“I’m pregnant.”
Chapter 22
“How’d it go?” Sebastian asks as soon as I pick up the phone.
“About as well as can be expected.”
“What does that mean, precisely?”
“It means he wasn’t happy about the fact that I sat on a lot of illegal information about Brandon. Especially since I wasn’t about to admit that I’m pulling the strings on a very elaborate plot designed to have my brother incarcerated for twenty years or so.”
“I bet. What did he say, though? About the evidence? Was it enough?”
“On the record, he played it really close to the vest. Told me the department would be looking into my complaint.” I pull out my sunglasses as I step outside and into the heat. The LA sun is brutal on the eyes at midday. “But off the record, he said he’d made some calls to the Vegas unit before our meeting. According to them, there’s been a sudden recent influx of calls from my brother to Nico Valducci.”
“So, Aria’s dad was telling the truth, then.”
“Looks like. They also said he isn’t the only mob guy Brandon’s been dealing with.”
“They’re talking about the recent phone calls to the others, when he was trying to drum up support?”
“He didn’t say, but I didn’t get that impression. It sounded to me like they were talking about the Armenians.”
“Really?” There’s silence for a few moments as Sebastian digests my words, tries to think through them. I wish him luck, because I’ve been spinning ideas about it around in my mind ever since James mentioned it to me.
“So he’s been fucking around behind the mafia’s back?” Sebastian asks, incredulous. “I never credited him for the guts to do that. Then again, he could just be a moron. Fucking around between the Italians and Armenians is not a smart move on his part. If Valducci finds out, he’s going to go ballistic. From what I understand, he despises the Armenians.”
“Yeah, I know.” The thought sends a chill down my spine. “The question is what Brandon has to offer the Armenians, though. His money, sure, because I have no doubt he’s run up gambling debts with them, too. But from what I can tell, they’re more brute force than political finesse. What do you think?”
“I think that’s a good way to put it. They’re not the patient sort—I can’t see them waiting for him to be elected, waiting for him to get some power in Congress before they start calling in favors he owes them. I mean, I don’t know for sure. I can do some digging.”
“No, don’t worry about it. You’re already up to your balls dealing with all the Valducci crap,” I tell him as I climb into the limo waiting to take me back to the nearest public heliport. “I don’t want you to stick your neck out any more than you already have. And I sure as hell don’t want you drawing the attention of the Armenians by asking questions they don’t want you getting answers to.” I was okay with him helping me with the Valducci thing because he had his own ax to grind in that. But the Armenians? No way.
“I can be subtle.”
“Yeah, like an eighteen-wheeler can be subtle,” I tell him. “No, Sebastian. You’ve already done more than enough. I’ll call my PI. Let him dig around for a while, see if he can figure out what he missed.”
“I don’t mind. You’re my best friend.”
“Yeah, and that’s why I do mind.”
He snorts. “Well, shit, Frost. I didn’t realize you were going to go all kumbaya on my ass.”
“What can I say? It’s Chloe’s influence.”
“Yeah. How’s she doing? What happened today was insane.”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“Your mom, man. Bringing this shit up, going after Chloe like that, was stone-cold crazy. She had to know you’d fire back.”
“I’m pretty sure she thought family loyalty would keep me in line.”
Sebastian snorts. “Well then, she’s obviously never seen you with your wife. You look at her like she’s the sun.”
“For me, she is.”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat uncomfortably. “I feel that way about Aria, too.”