Chapter 24: Claire

It had been two weeks since Sean’s arrest and quick release. Things had settled down a little at the office, but Ed would still turn red and curse the gods at the mere mention of Sean O’Connor’s name.

After Sean glared at me through the one-way mirror and left with his attorney, I snuck out before Ed could find me and bring down his wrath. I holed up in my apartment all that weekend, not answering the door or the phone, bouncing between bouts of intense guilt and sobbing, to unbridled anger and cursing. It was one of the worst weekends of my life. All I could think about was calling Sean, taking him into my arms, into my bed, though I knew that was something I could never do again.

I crawled back into the office on Monday and tried to keep my head down and my mouth closed. I’d never seen Ed so angry. He stormed around the office for a few days, threatening to fire us all, especially me, whom he ultimately blamed for things going awry. I took his abuse and didn’t argue back. I knew my relationship with Sean was probably not the wisest decision I’d ever made, but if that warehouse had indeed been filled with millions of dollars in counterfeit goods, Ed would have been praising me rather than threatening to send me packing back to Vice.

A week later I was offered a spot in Robbery/Homicide. It was a lateral move, but I jumped at the chance to leave Ed’s task force. It was never a good idea to work for my ex in the first place. And given his inability to stop reminding me that fucking Sean O’Connor was a stupid fucking thing to do, moving to a new job was an easy decision.

* * *

The next Saturday morning around nine I was standing at the kitchen counter, waiting for the coffee pot to finish when the doorbell rang. I’d just gotten out of the shower and was wearing a robe and slippers with a towel around my neck. I didn’t think much of it. My neighbor, an elderly lady named Mrs. Grant, was always ringing the doorbell to ask if I’d seen her cat. God bless her, her mind wasn’t all there. She hadn’t had a cat in twenty years according to her daughter. Still, I always promised to keep my eye out and let her know if I saw a gray tabby that answered to the name Louis.

I opened the door and prepared a smile for her. When I saw Sean O’Connor standing there, the smile froze on my lips. I blinked at him a few times to make sure I wasn’t imagining things.

“Hi, Claire,” he said with a shy smile. “Can I come in?”

Damn him. What the fuck was he doing here, standing outside my door with a pitiful look on his gorgeous face and a sad twinkle in his eye. He was wearing jeans and a tight t-shirt that reminded me how muscular he was. He had a pair of Raybans pushed to the top of his windblown hair. I wondered if his Mercedes convertible was parked downstairs.

I half-hid behind the door and pretended that I was not happy to see him. I worked up a frown and snarled at him. “Why do you want to come in?”

“I feel like we left a lot of things unsaid,” he said with a slow shrug. “I’d like to just say a few things, then I’ll be gone for good.”

I stared at him for a moment, struggling to resist the urge to rip off the robe and take him into my arms. Instead, I gave him a sigh and told him to come in. I led him into the kitchen and poured us each a cup of coffee.

“How have you been?” he asked as he watched me set out the cups of coffee and take the chair across from him.

“I’ve been fine,” I said, sliding the sugar bowl in front of me. I stirred in three spoons of sugar and a little milk. I didn’t bother offering sugar and milk to Sean. I knew he took his coffee black. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good,” he said, putting his hands around the coffee cup. He stared down into the black brew for a moment as if he were reading tea leaves to see what his future might bring.

“You said you wanted to talk,” I said, picking up the cup and holding it carefully between my hands. “So, talk.”

He glanced up for just a second and gave me a little nod. “Okay, it’s a long story, but I’ll try to make it short.”

“Please do,” I said, sounding hateful. “I have things to do.” I immediately regretted my tone, but he seemed unfazed.

With his voice low and tone even, he told the story I’d been dying to hear. “Ten years ago, just as I was graduating law school, my dad came to me and said the FBI was investigating his operation. He said they were trying to nail him for smuggling, racketeering, and a number of other lesser charges. I didn’t have to ask if he was guilty because I knew he was. I’d known for a while what he did for a living and so long as it didn’t affect me, I chose to ignore it. Then, when he asked for my help. He was terrified of going to prison and losing everything he’d worked for. It was the first time he’d asked me for help. There was no way I could ignore him.”

“So, you went to work for him,” I said quietly, mirroring the sadness in his eyes.

“Actually, I went to the FBI first to see if I could make a deal for him,” he said, frowning at the memory. “And I did so without his knowledge. I told them I was there not only as my dad’s lawyer, but as an officer of the court who wanted to help them shut down illegal activities in the port. Not just my dad’s operation, but others, as well, especially those who dealt in things like drugs and human trafficking.” He smiled wistfully for a second.

“I guess I was young and wanted to do my part in cleaning up the city. Anyway, I worked a deal with them. I would take over my dad’s operation and phase out all illegal activities. I would encourage my dad to retire and move out of state. And I would act as a confidential informant on their behalf. Anything I could do to help bust up criminal activity along the ports I would do, so long as it didn’t put me or my family at risk.”

“So, you became a confidential information for the FBI to protect your dad.”

He nodded. “Yes. And for the last ten years I have managed to legitimize my dad’s operation. Anything even remotely illegal has been phased out. The operation is one hundred percent legit.”

I frowned at him. “I don’t understand. Why the need for the second warehouse full of cheap purses? Why all the cloak and dagger bullshit with the Organized Crime unit?”

He smiled again without looking up at me. “My dad had a very hard time pulling his fingers out of the pie that had been feeding him so well for so long. It was like trying to get a leopard to change his spots. He worried that the legitimate businesses wouldn’t do as well as the illegitimate ones. So rather than importing knockoff designer goods, I started importing the cheap purses. Dad had no idea I’d made the change. To him it all looked the same. He never looked at the accounts, so I transitioned everything and assured him that business was good, and that the money was rolling in.”

“Okay, so you set up a fake criminal operation to keep your dad happy?” I shook my head at him. “Do you know how insane that sounds?”

“I do,” he said. “But it worked. Dad was happy, the business was legit and profitable. Everything went according to plan. The only problem was the FBI would not let me off the hook so long as dad was around. And dad refused to retire, no matter how hard I pushed him to do so.”

“So, as long as your dad was involved in the business, the FBI had its hooks in you.” I stared into his eyes for a moment. “Oh, my god, that’s what this was all about. You wanted the police to raid the warehouse so you could convince your old man to retire.”

He finally looked into my eyes for more than a couple of seconds. “Yes. I knew the only thing that would make the old man retire was the threat of spending the rest of his life in prison. So, when I caught wind that your group was sniffing around, I decided that would be a good way to put all this to rest.”

My mind raced as we looked at each other. Suddenly I had an aha moment. “Oh, my god, you were Lester’s inside man.”

“I was,” he said, nodding. “I fed Lester tidbits of information, hoping you guys would eventually put it all together and bust the warehouse.”

“Why didn’t you just give Lester the address?” I asked.

“Because the cops would have checked it out and found that there was nothing there. I needed the SWAT to storm that warehouse while me and dad were there. I wanted dad to think that his playhouse had finally crumbled. That the only thing to do was to shut it all down and try to avoid prison.”

“And that’s what you told your dad after the raid?”

“Yes. Tim Reed, my attorney, told my dad that he had worked out a plea deal for him. If he would sell the business and move to Tampa, they would drop all charges.”

“And your dad fell for it.”

He shrugged. “He’s a tired old man who couldn’t let go of his past. Once Tim told him the lie, that he could spend the rest of his life in prison if he didn’t take the deal, he couldn’t pack fast enough.”

“It was all a ruse,” I said, falling back in my chair.

“It was all a ruse,” he said. “And I was starting to think it wasn’t going to work, then Boozie decided to leave. I told Lester about it. I said it would be a good time to send in someone undercover.”

“Wait, what? You suggested that they send in someone?”

“I did,” he said, his eyes going around my face. “I had no idea it would be someone so… interesting.”

“You knew I was an undercover cop? The whole time?”

He shook his head. “Not the whole time. I suspected you at first. That’s why I hired you. That’s why I moved in so fast on you. Sexually.”

“It was a test,” I said, tapping a fist to my forehead. “And I failed miserably.”

“Actually, you didn’t fail,” he said. “I figured an undercover cop wouldn’t sleep with me. So, when you did, I thought, hmm, guess she’s not a cop after all.” He picked up the coffee cup and toasted me with it. “Congratulations. I didn’t know you were a cop until I saw you standing outside the warehouse.”

I tried to smile, but it wouldn’t stick. I said, “I’m really sorry I lied to you.”

“Hey, that was your job,” he said. “And you did it extremely well.”

“So, what’s happened since then?”

“Well, my dad has retired. He and mom are already in Tampa living the high life in a retirement community. I have a buyer for the business, which should close next week. And the FBI has finally released me from our deal. For the first time in ten years, I am on my own.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said. “So, what will you do now?”

“Take a little time off. Maybe talk to a few law firms about going to work.” He leaned into the table and gave me the smile that made my panties melt. “And… I was also hoping we might start over, you and I.”

I blinked at him. “You were?”

“I was.”

“I think that would be… wonderful,” I said.

“Good.” He held his hand out across the table. “Hi, my name is Sean.”

I slid my hand into his. “Hi, Sean. My name is Claire.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Claire.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sean.”

“Claire?”

“Yes, Sean?”

“Would you like to fuck?”

“Yes, Sean. I think that would be lovely.”