“Then I’ll give you this to make you feel better,” Lee Nightingale returned. “We started investigating this and our clients ran out of funds. We did not like what we found so we didn’t stop investigating, even after they could no longer pay for our services. We undoubtedly have more than you, perhaps enough to lay this shit open and stop a bad drug from hittin’ the market. You got the evidence to tie that bow, we’d be obliged. More so if we could quit dickin’ around, get it, and sort it before any more hits are called. And last, do all this before Salvatore Giglia and his goons get more involved and make this mess messier and possibly take indictments off the table due to mob involvement.”

At that, I gasped quietly and Benny looked at me.

Nightingale knew about Sal.

When Ben caught my eyes, I said, “Maybe we should meet this Herb guy at Frank’s.”

“Is that Francesca Concetti?” Nightingale asked.

I looked to the phone. “Yeah.”

“You’re off assignment,” he stated instantly (and bossily). “So is everyone else. Giglia’s men took care of the hired gun on Furlock. Now you can call Giglia off. Get the drives to Herb. Tomorrow, go in. Work. We’ve got it from here.”

Excuse me?

Some random guy on the phone “has it from here?”

I leaned toward Benny’s cell and snapped, “There are a lot of people who’ve stuck their necks out for a long time who have a lot riding on this.”

“Frankie,” Ben murmured.

“They can quit stickin’ their necks out,” Nightingale returned.

“And that’s a good thing,” Benny put in.

I turned my eyes to him to see his on me and I glared.

He turned his gaze to his phone at the same time he brought it closer to his face (and further away from mine). “We’ll look you up. Send an email. In it, write something that only your clients will know. We’ll confirm that information with the clients, and if it jives, we’ll meet this Herb guy at Frank’s at one o’clock. We’re keepin’ copies of the drives. And we want direct lines to you and this Stark guy so we can stay informed about how shit is goin’, and by that, I don’t mean email.”

“Luke doesn’t do email,” Nightingale muttered, and I saw Ben give me a smug look so I rolled my eyes. “This is my personal cell,” he continued. “Text me your email address. We’ll confirm with Herb that he’s meeting you at Frank’s.”

“Right,” Ben said.

“And, heads up, Herb is…” Nightingale started, paused, and went on, “Unusual.”

I felt Ben tense as he asked, “Unusual how?”

“He’s not young. He’s not tall. He has red hair. He’s loud. He’s likely to say something inappropriate. And he’s very much from Indiana.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“That means don’t wear red because he’s from a Purdue family,” Nightingale answered.

I’d been living in Indiana less than a year, and still, I totally knew what this meant.

“Red’s out,” I murmured.

“We good?” Ben asked Nightingale.

“Yeah,” Nightingale replied. “Text the email. We’ll get you Luke’s information and you and your woman can stand down.”

Benny was not tense at that. I could tell by his face he was cautiously relieved.

“I’ll talk to Sal and do the hand-off,” Ben told him.

“Right. Thanks. This’ll be over soon.”

“Fuckin’ hope so,” Ben muttered.

“It will,” Nightingale’s deep, attractive voice said, and it did this so firmly, I believed him.

“Right,” Benny said. “Later.”

“Later,” Nightingale replied, and Benny touched the button to end the call.

He then touched more buttons, asking, “What’s your email?” I gave him my email address and his thumb moved over his screen. He must have hit send because he looked to me. “Fire up your laptop, cara.”

My eyes got squinty at the order. “Can I have a good-morning kiss first?”

“You can have a good-morning fuck—a long one, a happy one, a celebratory one—if we can pass this shit off to some PI from fuckin’ Colorado, get Sal out of it so he won’t demand we name our first son after him, and concentrate on you either gettin’ the go-ahead to work from Chicago or findin’ a job in Chicago so I can get home and take my baby with me.” He leaned toward me in order to finish, “All of this requiring you to fire up your laptop.”

“You’re grouchy when you get woken up by some PI from Colorado,” I noted.

“Yeah, seein’ as this necessitates me doin’ a bunch of shit I don’t wanna do prior to buryin’ my dick inside my woman, that happens.” When I didn’t move, just continued glaring at him, he went on, “And I get grouchier when she lies there givin’ me the evil eye instead of gettin’ her sweet ass out of bed and gettin’ her laptop.”

“I think I’ve made it relatively clear you bein’ bossy isn’t my favorite thing,” I told him.

“It is when you’re wet for me,” he returned.

It sucked, but he had a point.

And it irked me, but my choices in that moment were either to have a staring contest with Benny, continue our fight, which was kind of ridiculous, or go and get my laptop.

I decided on going to get my laptop, but as I threw the covers off me (and, thus, Benny since I intended to climb over him because his side was closer), I did it bossing.

“I’ll get my laptop and take care of the first part of the operation. You go walk Gus.”

I was climbing over him but didn’t make it when his hands curled under my arms. I let out a surprised noise as he flipped me to my back, covered me, and laid a hard, short kiss on me.

When he lifted his head, he asked, “Satisfied?”

Not hardly.

“That better be a promise of things to come,” I replied.

“When isn’t it?” he asked.

And he had another point, this one excellent.

“Stop bein’ awesome when I have shit to do.”

He grinned.

I scrunched my face at him.

That made him smile. Unfortunately, he did this rolling off me so I didn’t get the full force of it, though, this had its benefits since I could see to my business, he could see to Gus, and then he could get down to fulfilling his promise.

I got my laptop, fired it up, and brushed my teeth. Ben pulled on jeans, his tee, and running shoes, then got our dog and the leash and took off.

I got the email. Then I called Tandy to ask her to ask her friend what colors were used in “Roxie and Hank’s” wedding. I pulled on yoga pants and a cami while Tandy made her call.

Ben came back while I was making coffee. “We good?” he asked, letting Gus off the lead whereupon he waddle-galloped into the kitchen and started jumping up my calves.

I bent to pick him up, and when I had him in my arms for a squirmy cuddle, I told Benny, “Waiting for confirmation from Tandy now.”

Benny nodded and headed down the hall.

I looked down at Gus and asked, “Breakfast?”

He gave my neck a puppy kiss.

I took that as a yes and was finishing up putting clean bowls of water and food down for him when my doorbell rang.

I looked that way just as I felt Benny leave the mouth of the hall and heard him ask, “Who the fuck is that?”

“No clue,” I answered.

He kept heading to the door but did it looking at me. “I thought you couldn’t get in the complex without a code.”

“You can’t,” I confirmed.

Ben didn’t look happy as he kept walking to the door.

He opened the baby door, which was really a supercool peephole, then I heard him mutter, “Jesus.”

“What?” I called, moving to round the counter and get to the living room.

By the time I got there, the door was open and I stopped dead when I saw Sal barge in.

He did this ordering, “Call off them dogs.”

I stared at him.

“Good to see you, Sal. Wanna come in? Have some coffee?” Ben asked sarcastically as he closed the door behind him.

Sal looked at me, took me in top to toe, then greeted, “Beautiful as always, amata.” Then he turned to Benny. “Been on the road for hours, figlio. Not in the mood for your shit.”

Ben moved out of the entryway, stopped, planted his feet, and crossed his arms on his chest. Only then did he suggest, “Maybe you open with tellin’ us what got your ass on the road, we can move on from there.”

“This is my goodwill mission,” Sal stated, jerking his thumb to his chest and leaning toward Benny. “Don’t need no private dicks from the Rocky Mountain state hornin’ in.”

Oh God.

He knew about Nightingale.

This wasn’t surprising. Sal knew just about everything, and if he didn’t, he had ways of finding out. What was surprising was that he seemed proprietary about his “goodwill mission.”

“Sal, they been on this case longer than us and can do shit above board, not knockin’ people around and whackin’ ’em,” Benny pointed out.

“I’m not gonna whack anybody,” Sal snapped.

“What happened to the hit man?” Ben asked. “Or do I wanna know?”

Sal settled back and grinned. “He got an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

I started giggling.

Ben cut his eyes to me.

I pressed my lips together and stopped giggling.

Benny looked to Sal and said low, “This shit isn’t funny. We’re discussin’ a fuckin’ hit man.”

At that, Sal looked like he was starting to get mad and that made my breath start to go funny.

“Got hundreds, maybe thousands of lives on the line this drug is bad and it goes out, Benny. I am not in the business of good deeds, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know this isn’t decent work that needs to get done right. But that isn’t all it is. This is for my Frankie. Do you think I’d do anything to get her ass in a bind?”