Only when she stepped out into the golden sunlight did he permit himself to lower his guard.
Despite the secretive location past the outskirts of the city, there was no pressing issue for them to discuss. Ever since Alex had uncovered Brian Kolthoff’s link to Senator Stan Young, he and Amelia had agreed to meet regularly to keep one another updated about the man’s activities.
He could hardly believe that, only a few months earlier, he and Amelia had crossed paths for the first time in over a decade. When he saw her now, he could have tricked himself into thinking their tearful breakup had only occurred a year ago.
In the eleven years since she’d left Chicago to join the military, he had yet to broach the same level of intimacy with another woman that he and Amelia once shared.
Never mind that he was engaged to the daughter of the head of the D’Amato family. Salvatore D’Amato’s youngest child, Liliana, was a little more than ten years younger than Alex, and the last time he’d seen her, she’d still been in high school.
Now, she was at the start of her senior year at the Chicago University Booth School of Business. He’d been informed that her intent was to earn her master’s in business administration. Once Liliana completed her undergraduate degree, the two of them were slated to marry.
In less than a year, Alex would be a married man.
No matter how bizarre the whole situation felt to him, his and Liliana’s union would cement the Passarelli family’s status in the upper echelon of mafia hierarchy.
Some part of him had always thought the day would never come, that he’d be a bachelor for the rest of his life. He needed to get rid of the detached sentiment toward his intended, so he’d made plans for a night out with Liliana.
The date would happen in two days. And he still hadn’t found a ring to give her.
Fingernails scraped his scalp as he combed a hand through his hair and forced his attention back to the park. Aside from a few faint voices that drifted up from the lake at the bottom of the hill behind him, the surrounding area was quiet.
Amelia’s eyes fell on him as she climbed the two steps to the gazebo’s wooden floor. “Evening, Alex.” Her tone was professional, but he caught a strained twinge in her expression.
Closing the paperback, Alex straightened to face her. “Hey. How was the drive?”
She dropped into her seat and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “It’s six o’clock on a weekday. How do you think it was?”
“Probably not great.” He stifled a grin, reminding himself to stay purely professional. “Have you learned anything new about Kolthoff since the last time we talked? Or Stan Young?”
Waning sunlight glittered off the silver band of her watch as she pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know why I would have. I’m looking for a dirty cop, so unless Kolthoff has changed professions lately, I can’t say I’ve been looking too closely at him.”
Alex wasn’t surprised. “A dirty Leóne cop?”
Though slight, a muscle in her jaw tensed as she clamped her teeth together. “Yes. A dirty cop who worked with Alton Dalessio in that hellhole in Kankakee County.” She pinned him with a knowing look. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any idea which Chicago detectives are on the Leóne roster these days?”
He gave himself a moment to run through his mental rolodex, wondering if one of the cops on his payroll was double dipping. “I don’t. All I know is that they have cops on their roster. And at least one Fed, if I remember the Leila Jackson case correctly.”
Her nose wrinkled, and she crossed her arms, clearly unhappy with the memory. “I remember it. But whoever it was, they didn’t help the Leónes on the last case we worked, so that makes me wonder how loyal they actually are to the family. Might’ve been that they were just pals with Emilio.”
“It’s possible.” Alex smoothed out the fabric of his black slacks. “It’s also possible that the Fed isn’t on the Leónes’ payroll. They might be one of Kolthoff’s allies, or maybe one of Stan Young’s.”
Amelia narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean, exactly? I get that we’ve traced Kolthoff’s connection to the Leónes, and then we’ve traced his connection to Young. Not to mention that Young’s company was, is, probably making millions on the backs of modern-day slaves, plenty of which were supplied by the Leónes. I don’t really have to stretch my imagination to picture a corrupt politician keeping company with a corrupt federal agent, you know?”
The obviousness of that statement didn’t need a response, but Amelia was staring at him as if she expected a Captain Obvious-like agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not much of a stretch, is it?” He paused, taking a mental inventory of his investigative progress over the past couple months. “It’s been almost a month since I found that connection, and it seems like there’s nothing to show for it so far.”
She let out a mirthless chortle. “I’m not really sure what you want from me, Alex. Do you want me to take down a senator?”
Yes. Yes, he did.
“Well, that—”
She waved a hand. “Yeah, I know that’s what the FBI is for, but it’s a bit beyond my scope of expertise. Right now, I’m just trying to find the pedophile Chicago PD detective who was working with Dalessio.”
It was Alex’s turn to narrow his eyes. “What about Brian Kolthoff? The Shark? You know how he got that moniker, don’t you? It’s not because he likes to scuba dive, I can tell you that much.” He propped an elbow on each knee and hunched forward, his gaze fixed on Amelia. “People
