a challenging glare. Joe slid in next to her, suppressing an amused grin as Murphy’s confident demeanor wavered for a fraction of a second.
“That must make you the former Mrs. David Dennelli.” Murphy’s smile didn’t reach his cold gray eyes.
Joe recognized the name and caught himself before he reacted, allowing his gaze to slowly settle on her face. This was the piece he’d been missing. Everything was beginning to make sense now.
A slight hesitation preceded her reply. “Do I know you?”
“No, but I know you, since Joe asked me to find out everything I could about you.” He lifted a file folder off the seat beside him.
She glared as Joe accepted the file. “I would have told you anything you wanted to know.” She spoke through clenched teeth.
“Actually, I didn’t ask him to find out about you.” His gaze held a silent warning for the man across from him. Murphy smiled smugly, obviously enjoying the exchange. “I asked him to find out about your ex-husband—a subject you haven’t been completely forthcoming about. Now I know why.”
“I told you I’d help you get Brian. David has nothing to do with that. What do you want to know about him anyway?”
“Just whether the man has any weaknesses.”
When she’d said Mafia connections, Joe hadn’t realized what an understatement that was. David Dennelli, mobster and one sick son of a bitch, if the rumors were true. No wonder she was scared to death of him. He studied Cara’s white face. How in the hell did she get involved with a creep like him?
Another question bothered him as well. With all the background they had on Sinclair, how had they overlooked his connection to David Dennelli? Joe met Murphy’s gaze. The same question was reflected there. Someone had obviously gone to a great deal of trouble to bury that fact. Why? Prostitution, drugs, money laundering, even human slave trading were rumored to be in Dennelli’s portfolio, but never a whisper of gunrunning.
“Murphy, do you have anything useful for me on Sinclair?”
“He’s business-as-usual this morning. Breakfast with his wife. He’s a couple thousand dollars down at the craps table. He doesn’t seem concerned that his baby sister skipped town.”
Cara’s gaze flew to Joe’s face. “What’s he talking about?”
Just then the waitress came to take their order, and they fell silent until she left.
“You sent Brian an e-mail late last night from an Internet café across the border in California,” Murphy said. “Told him you were taking some time off to look up an old friend in LA and you’d lost your cell phone but you’d keep in touch. To not worry. You get the idea.”
She straightened and anger flashed in her eyes. “Is that how this is going to work? You do everything behind my back? No, let me rephrase that.” Her fist hit the table. “That’s not how this is going to work. From now on, I make my own decisions.”
“Keep your voice down, Cara,” Joe said. “We did what we had to do.”
She didn’t seem to notice him, concentrating on Murphy, whose arrogant smile appeared to make her angrier.
“Do you even have a plan? I’m not sure you’re smart enough to lay a trap for Brian.”
“Cara.” Joe’s fingers closed around her elbow and squeezed. “The last thing we want to do is attract a crowd.”
She took a deep breath and seemed to compose herself.
Joe released her arm.
“As you know, our last plan didn’t end well.” No emotion shaded Murphy’s voice. Joe expected that from him, had almost gotten used to it, but this time it was Charlie Dugan’s life he trivialized.
Cara swallowed hard and her face turned a sickly gray.
Joe wanted to throttle Murphy, just on principle.
“Charlie… what was he trying to do?” Cara stared at her hands on the table.
“He was tracking shipments,” Joe said, “checking on buyers, investigating sales that didn’t look legit. Mostly he was hoping to be in the right place at the right time to
“That must make you the former Mrs. David Dennelli.” Murphy’s smile didn’t reach his cold gray eyes.
Joe recognized the name and caught himself before he reacted, allowing his gaze to slowly settle on her face. This was the piece he’d been missing. Everything was beginning to make sense now.
A slight hesitation preceded her reply. “Do I know you?”
“No, but I know you, since Joe asked me to find out everything I could about you.” He lifted a file folder off the seat beside him.
She glared as Joe accepted the file. “I would have told you anything you wanted to know.” She spoke through clenched teeth.
“Actually, I didn’t ask him to find out about you.” His gaze held a silent warning for the man across from him. Murphy smiled smugly, obviously enjoying the exchange. “I asked him to find out about your ex-husband—a subject you haven’t been completely forthcoming about. Now I know why.”
“I told you I’d help you get Brian. David has nothing to do with that. What do you want to know about him anyway?”
“Just whether the man has any weaknesses.”
When she’d said Mafia connections, Joe hadn’t realized what an understatement that was. David Dennelli, mobster and one sick son of a bitch, if the rumors were true. No wonder she was scared to death of him. He studied Cara’s white face. How in the hell did she get involved with a creep like him?
Another question bothered him as well. With all the background they had on Sinclair, how had they overlooked his connection to David Dennelli? Joe met Murphy’s gaze. The same question was reflected there. Someone had obviously gone to a great deal of trouble to bury that fact. Why? Prostitution, drugs, money laundering, even human slave trading were rumored to be in Dennelli’s portfolio, but never a whisper of gunrunning.
“Murphy, do you have anything useful for me on Sinclair?”
“He’s business-as-usual this morning. Breakfast with his wife. He’s a couple thousand dollars down at the craps table. He doesn’t seem concerned that his baby sister skipped town.”
Cara’s gaze flew to Joe’s face. “What’s he talking about?”
Just then the waitress came to take their order, and they fell silent until she left.
“You sent Brian an e-mail late last night from an Internet café across the border in California,” Murphy said. “Told him you were taking some time off to look up an old friend in LA and you’d lost your cell phone but you’d keep in touch. To not worry. You get the idea.”
She straightened and anger flashed in her eyes. “Is that how this is going to work? You do everything behind my back? No, let me rephrase that.” Her fist hit the table. “That’s not how this is going to work. From now on, I make my own decisions.”
“Keep your voice down, Cara,” Joe said. “We did what we had to do.”
She didn’t seem to notice him, concentrating on Murphy, whose arrogant smile appeared to make her angrier.
“Do you even have a plan? I’m not sure you’re smart enough to lay a trap for Brian.”
“Cara.” Joe’s fingers closed around her elbow and squeezed. “The last thing we want to do is attract a crowd.”
She took a deep breath and seemed to compose herself.
Joe released her arm.
“As you know, our last plan didn’t end well.” No emotion shaded Murphy’s voice. Joe expected that from him, had almost gotten used to it, but this time it was Charlie Dugan’s life he trivialized.
Cara swallowed hard and her face turned a sickly gray.
Joe wanted to throttle Murphy, just on principle.
“Charlie… what was he trying to do?” Cara stared at her hands on the table.
“He was tracking shipments,” Joe said, “checking on buyers, investigating sales that didn’t look legit. Mostly he was hoping to be in the right place at the right time to
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