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CHAPTER 8 - ...AND BEING A BORED BROAD ABROAD CAUSES TROUBLE

 

FAAL AND ZEE’S FORMER ISLAND - NEXT DAY

 

LINDSAY'S QUARTERS

 

LINDSAY

 

I look at my calloused hands and want to weep. This may be an island paradise, but the work is back breaking, and having to see my father and his new wife swanning around, virtually clicking their fingers at me was horrendous. Thankfully they have now left, but those two weeks were the worst of my life, even worse than prison. When I asked him how they got hitched, she just stared down her nose at me and said that she doesn’t discuss family matters with strangers! And when I told him what she said, he backed her, saying that I am now a stranger to him!

 

I have finally finished for the day and sink down onto the bed. I groan as the laptop they have loaned me to keep in touch with my many friends signals the arrival of an email. Wearily, I get up and then blink in surprise as it’s from Michael, then sigh as I read the title; liar, liar pants on fire!

 

“Let’s see what you have to say for yourself.” I mutter, then get up to close the bedroom door. Once the email loads, I sneer at his opening line. “So you’re not going to be the next Mrs Ugerstacht any time soon! According to Luther, and he should know after all, they are still very much married. Shame about the kid dying though, but at least the world is saved from having another Zaden or Hades as I have taken to calling her.” I pause, repulsed by what he’s just said about an innocent child. “Not sure where you ended up after you most likely fucked your way out of jail, hope the warden washed and shaved at least, but wherever it is, you will be a bitter dried up old prune that nobody wants!”

 

I look up at the knock and bid them enter. Madea comes in with a smile, I am instantly on my guard.

 

“What are you up to?”

 

“I have just finished my shift so I am going to rest for the rest of the day.” I reply, closing down the laptop.

 

“Oh, we’re going out later if you want to join us?”

 

“Join you?” I am incredulous.

 

“Yes. You must be bored out of your mind every night.”

 

“No, uh, thank you for the invite, but I really am tired and would rather have an early night.”

 

“Okay, had a feeling you would say that. Brought these up for you to read.” She hands me some magazines and newspapers. “Enjoy your evening.” She smiles again before leaving me astonished in her wake.

 

As I place them on the table, I wonder what her game is. Something catches my eye, and that something is Pittsburgh Gazette and the picture of Brian and Justin having just finished.

 

“You have got to be kidding me?! How the hell did he become Mayor?! That reprobate!” I quickly turn to the article and read with mounting fury. “That smug little bastard!” I snarl as he gloats about being the one to change, not tame him. “He is still as wild as ever but just only with me.” I almost scrunch it up in fury, but I have a much better idea. I almost break my laptop opening it up again, then taking a deep breath, I start to type...Mr Novotny, or should that be Grassi or Devore? I would thank you for your reply, but it was so filled with delusion and spite that I could barely read it for laughing at your attempts to be bitchily witty, or being disgusted at how nasty you are over the death of a child, which is not true. She is very much alive, and we three are happy, just like Brian and Justin are happy. And to think, if you had just been a bit more polished, a bit more clever, a bit more not you, then you would’ve been the First Man of Pittsburgh, but you’re not. Luther is in jail for lying, remember? Did you see the article in Pittsburgh Gazette? Not the most flattering of pictures of you, is it? And did you see how quickly you were dismissed by first Brian and then by the man that has replaced you in every way, Justin? If you are honest with yourself, you never ever had a chance with Brian. He loved the pathetic attention that you gave him. Who wouldn’t want someone fawning over them…”

 

By the time I hit send on the email, I am feeling very pleased with myself. If that doesn’t rattle his tiny jealous brain then I am losing my touch, and I will not be bested by that insect!

 

WARDEN CLIFTON FLECK’S OFFICE - TWO DAYS LATER

 

TANK

 

We are all quiet, just staring at each other in shock.

 

“So which one of you is going to explain this to me?” Warden Clifton fumes, her eyes blazing.

 

Nobody says a word.

 

“Come on, Mr FBI man, surely you know why I have an undercover cop, FBI agent, and a whatever-the-hell you are in my prison for the same person?!”

 

We three look at each other and I sigh. “I knew about Mouse, but as for Brock, I didn't know about him.” I can't believe this myself.

 

“So where do you fit in?” She demands of Brock.

 

“Bodyguard, private hire.” He clips out, then glowers at me like I made him be here. “And client confidentiality prevents disclosure.”

 

I chuff a laugh then pull out my phone to call my partner on the outside. “Hey, can you check with Faal…” I pause and look at him. Although he tries to hide his reaction, I spot the relief. “...no Zaden, if she put anyone on her old man. I will hold.” For ten long minutes nobody says a word then he comes back on the line. “Okay, great. Thanks. Talk later.”

 

“Well?!” Warden Fleck barks, then holds up a hand. “Sorry, Tank, but you can appreciate that…”

 

“No probs, Cliffie…” I smirk at the use of the nickname.

 

“Get on with it!” She grumbles.

 

“Deep down she's still, daddy's little girl.” I murmur. “When did you go in?”

 

“Start of the trial, needed to establish myself.” Brock explains, still looking disgruntled.

 

“First, rule of undercover work: don't look like you are a bodyguard! Your stance gave you away; well, that and the way you kept body checking him! And there was more than you on him, right?” I snap, wholly pissed off by him being upset.

 

“Yeah, she had one on him when he went in first, and then I took over when he got jailed. Don't know why she bothered, hard nosed doesn't come close.”

 

“So now what happens?” Cliffie sighs.

 

“Brock stays.” I declare. “Take it you’ve been feeding back on Daddy’s well being?”

 

“No, she didn’t want to know anything about that, just to know he was not harmed. Like I said, hard nosed doesn’t come close. He has a lot of anger, and a deep need to top dog it.”

 

“Hmmm. Anything else?”

 

“Apart from him being sick? Nothing much, but he has been chatting to the newbie on the block a bit.”

 

“What newbie?” I frown, as I had been keeping an eye on Stockwell at Rikers, but he was moved to the ‘cop wing’ almost immediately so I had to step back as I have sent many a cop down there.

 

“The guy that was talking to the murder cop.” He scratches his head. “Now that is one bitter little bastard!”

 

“Roll it back and start again. Do you mean Jim Stockwell?”

 

“Yep, him. He and Novotny were chatty before, and now him and Stark are.” Brock sits forward and smirks as he knows he has my full attention. “He got another email from a Lindsay Peterson after her first, bigging her new life up with Faal, but Stark has said to me, and to him, that none of what she’s said in the first is true. And Stark is pissed at him, I mean really pissed.”

 

“About?” Mouse prompts.

 

“Novotny crowed about the death of his grandchild, which is also not true.” Brock looks as disgusted as I feel. “And Stark’s got something planned with him and the new Mayor of Pittsburgh.”

 

“Brian Taylor-Kinney?” Cliffie’s eyebrows shoot up and then she fans herself. “Such a shame about him, about them both. Utterly gorgeous! I mean, what about him?!”

 

“Novotny has that article that had them...well, you know.” Brock looks sheepish. “...seems to read it every day. And after that email, he tore the face out of the paper...”

 

“Which one’s face?” I ask warily, even though I know the answer.

 

“Justin Taylor-Kinney.”

 

“Hmm.” I am about to call my partner again when I have a thought and smile, as I remember something from his New York trial: he didn't recognise me at all. “Cliffie, I am going to have to talk to my boss, but I need to be in closer, to Novotny in particular. Peterson is stoking his fire and I don’t like it, not one little bit.”

 

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

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