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chapter twenty-six
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FALCO
(Thirteen months later)
Irina and I sat in the lobby of the FBI’s Nashville offices. She was looking calm, sitting with her head leaning on my shoulder, her arm slipped under mine, holding my hand. I, on the other hand, was struggling with the outward appearance of remaining calm. Deep inside, my stomach was churning and I thought I was going to vomit.
My career had been progressing nicely. Hicks and I found our groove as partners. I had learned a great deal from her and she was learning from me as well. Since the incidents on my first couple of days on Metro, we had not had a single excessive force complaint. Hicks and I had become close, partner close, almost brother and sister close. Any semblance of sexual tension between had long since vanished, and as partners, we were firing on all cylinders.
Things between Irina and I were going incredibly well. We had become a couple. I never knew what life could be like with someone you loved so deeply standing at your side. I couldn’t wait to get home these days, knowing Irina was there waiting for me.
Our love life continued to sizzle but our personal relationship grew far beyond the physical aspects. We were becoming one, two hearts and souls, blended into a single unit. I loved it.
“Sorry I’m late,” Nico Mayson said, walking up to us.
“That’s ok,” I said. “I’m just glad you could be here.”
“You knew I would be,” he said. “Whatever happens, I will support you two.”
He bent down, allowing Irina to give him a quick hug and peck on the cheek, “Thank you so much for everything you have done for us, Nico,” Irina said. “I feel such hope now.”
Nico Mayson had paved the way, calling a friend of his in the FBI and explaining that he had an anonymous source that could help solve the Jimmy Gallo murder. He fed the agent a few bits of Irina’s story without telling the man who Irina or I were. Once the story checked out, the FBI agreed to provide temporary immunity to Irina in exchange for her full story.
That had taken three months for the full process to transpire. And now, here we were.
Nico put us in touch with a great attorney, Hank Haddad, from Memphis. Both Irina and I were comfortable with him from the beginning. He arrived right behind Nico. Haddad was in his late fifties, short with receding black curly hair, dressed in a suit that looked to be one size too large and wore glasses that looked a little too modern for his age.
“The receptionist caught me as I came in,” Haddad said. “They’re waiting for us. It’s showtime.”
We were led to a large conference room. Two women and one man stood as we entered.
“Nico, good to see you,” one of the men said, stand. They shook hands.
“Tom, this is Officer John Falco and this is Irina,” Nico said.
We had intentionally not told the FBI what Irina’s last name was. That was part of our deal today. If a deal was not worked out, the FBI agreed to not pursue finding and deporting her. If they struck a deal, they would grant her full immunity and provide her with US citizenship. What we didn’t know about yet, was whether Philo’s organization was deemed dangerous enough to place her into WITSAC.
“Falco and Irina, this is Agent Tom Parker, with the FBI here in Nashville,” Nico said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Parker said. “Let me introduce you to Special Agent Jim Andrews and Agent Adrian Smith, from our New York offices. They have been on point for the ongoing investigation surrounding Jimmy Gallo’s disappearance.”
Everyone shook hands with everyone else and took a seat. Once seated, I noticed Irina looking nervous for the first time. I took her hand. She squeezed it tightly.
“Thank you all for being here today,” Agent Andrews said. “We have taken the information provided by Irina. We found the information to be truthful and credible. We have conducted a preliminary investigation and now believe that Philo Mancini did, in fact, kill Jimmy Gallo in the Fantasy Land Exotic Men’s Club in Nashville two years ago, on February fourteen.”
Irina looked at me quizzically, “That’s good news,” I assured her softly.
“We are prepared to arrest Mr. Mancini but we cannot do so until we secure one last critical piece of the puzzle,” Andrews said.
“You want Irina to provide eyewitness testimony in open court,” Haddad interjected.
“That’s right,” Andrews said. “We can’t convict him without it.”
“We are prepared to agree to that,” Haddad said. “In exchange we want full immunity granted to Irina along with legal US residency.”
“It is so agreed,” Andrews said. “There is also the matter of the Federal Witness Protection Program. If Irina testifies we cannot guarantee her safety unless she enters WITSAC.”
Haddad looked at Irina and me. I nodded.
“Agreed,” Haddad said.
“Now, if we can move on . . .” Andrews continued.
“We have one more request,” Haddad interjected.
“What is that?”
“Officer John Falco would like to go with Irina,” he replied. “He would need to be included in the WITSAC program as well.”
Adrian Smith shook her head, “I’m sorry, counselor, we cannot agree to that. WITSAC is regulated by a very strict set of non-negotiable bylaws. Officer Falco is not Irina’s husband. He’s only known her for three months. I’m sorry, the answer is no.”
My heart sank. I saw the worry etched on Irina’s face. Nico Mayson leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, “Whatever you do, don’t blink,” he said.
Nico stood and addressed the FBI team, “You mean to tell me you’d let Jimmy Gallo’s murderer walk over this?”
“There are some rules we simply can’t bend,” Smith shot back. “This is one of them. WITSAC costs the taxpayers money. It’s a program that cannot be abused.”
“So, it’s about the taxpayer’s money?” Nico spouted. “How much money have the taxpayers spent on the Gallo investigation thus far? If Irina doesn’t testify, how much money will you spend going forward?”
“I appreciate your position, Nico,” Smith said, “but this is not a matter open to discussion.”
“Well, then let’s figure a way to open it,” Nico said. “Irina is an eyewitness to a murder that you FBI boys have been trying to solve for two years. This young woman can deliver the murderer to you on a silver platter.”
“I know that,” Andrews said, “but . . .”
“But you pencil pushers are gonna let one silly-ass clause get in your way,” Nico interrupted. “You’re asking this girl to give up her entire life . . .”
“Life as a stripper and homeless person,” Smith spouted.
“That is not fair,” Nico spouted. “She got to where she was only because she was running from . . .”
“What if Irina and I were married,” I interjected.
Irina’s mouth gaped open. She gasped.
“What did you say, Officer Falco?” Smith asked.
“Give us a moment,” Nico said, then turned to me and whispered again, “Falco, I told you not to blink. That was a big blink.”
“I got this Nico,” I said.
“Falco . . .”
“It’s ok, Nico, really.”
“You do not have to do this, Jackie,” Irina said.
I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I want to do this.”
I saw tears forming in her eyes, “Are you certain?”
“If you’ll have me,” I whispered.
She took in a breath and held it. She nodded, “Of course. I’ve wanted this ever since I was fifteen years old?
“Me too,” I said. “I just never realized it until now.”
Irina had her hand over her mouth and was near hyperventilation. She fell into my arms.
Adrian Smith cleared her throat.
I looked up, still holding Irina, looking at Smith over her shoulder, “I asked you, what if Irina and I were married, then could I enter WITSAC with her?”
“So, how soon would this blessed event occur?” Andrews asked.
“Surely the FBI has the power to expedite a marriage license,” I said. “The courthouse is open. How does today sound?”
“Agent Smith?” Andrews asked.
Smith looked at Irina an I quizzically and turned to Andrews. She shrugged, then nodded.
“Agreed, then,” Andrews said. “Agent Adrian Smith will begin drawing up all the appropriate paperwork. We’ll need your last name now, Irina.”
“Petroski,” she said, “until later today. Then you can call me Falco. Irina Falco.”
Smith smiled, “You realize you won’t have that name long, right? As part of the WITSAC program, both of you will be given new names.”
“That’s ok,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. From this day forward, I will forever consider myself to be Irina Falco.”
“That will be all for today,” Andrews said. “Agent Smith will be in touch with the details.”
Out in the lobby, Nico hugged both Irina and I, “Congratulations, you two.”
Haddad shook my hand and also offered his congratulations, “I’ll see the paperwork goes through its diligence.”
Haddad and Nico left. We were alone again, well . . . as alone as you could possibly be while standing in the lobby of the FBI offices with several dozen people milling around you.
Irina reached up and touched my cheeks, looking into my eyes, “Jackie, I’m so happy, but I really, really want you to think about this.”
“I have thought about it,” I said.
“Jackie, you made a snap decision on the spot to save me yet again. I don’t want you to later look back and regret . . .”
I pulled a tiny jewel case from my pocket, “No, Irina, I did not make a snap decision to ask you to marry me on the spot,” I said. “I’ve had this ring for a week, looking for the right time to . . .”
I opened the box, revealing a modest, but beautiful engagement ring.
She gasped as I fell gently to one knee, “This was not the romantic moment I had in mind,” I said. I actually envisioned an engagement period and a real wedding, but . . .”
“It’s perfect,” she cried. “Perfect.”
“Ok then, one more time for posterity,” I said, falling to one knee. “Irina Petroski, will you do me the honor of being my wife.”
“Yes!” she cried out. “Yes.”
I was completely oblivious to the fact that dozens of people had witness the proposal and began clapping. I tuned them all out. I only had eyes for Irina.
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
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HICKS
(Fifteen months later)
I’ve always been nervous on airplanes, particularly a small plane such as the twin-prop puddle jumper that connected me from Amarillo, Texas to Santa Fe, New Mexico. As the plane descended, turbulence shook the plane and damn near made me piss my pants.
My plane landed and I was still alive—so far, so good. I was just happy to be on the ground. I grabbed my bag and headed to the small airport entrance. Falco was standing behind his car, parked in a no parking zone. He was leaning against the trunk of his car with a big shit-eating grin on his face. He was wearing tight jeans and a tiny tank top that exposed every one of his sculpted muscles as well as the tats all up and down his arms. The Santa Fe sun agreed with him. His skin was always darker than normal, but it looked pure gold now.
“It’s hotter than shit out here,” I complained as a greeting. “How do you stand it?”
“It’s something you get used to, just like the humidity in Nashville,” he said. He opened his arms to me. “Bring it in, partner. Good to see you.”
I tiptoed and slipped into his massive arms and gave him a warm hug, my chest pressed against his.
“Hot . . . damn!” he cried out. “I miss those big bazookas. They still feel in-fucking-credible.”
“You had your chance, hot shot,” I told him, releasing the hug. “You blew it.”
He snapped his fingers, “Damn. I guess I can’t complain though.”
“I guess,” I said, smiling and punching him in the arm, like a sister might do.
I’ll have to admit, I spent many a night laying in my bed at night wondering how things might have changed if I hadn’t uttered those five words that proved to have been the ultimate buzz kill: Do . . . you . . . have . . . a . . . condom? Who knows how things might have turned out if we had done the complete nasty that night. If Falco had stayed with me, he may have never gone back to hobo’s palace looking for Irina. Shit, who knows. I may have even been the one getting married to him, now.
For me, Falco was the one who got away, though I was truly happy for the guy and I’d never do or say anything that would compromise his happiness. Irina was a perfect fit for him, and I can certainly be a handful for any man, even Falco. I do know this. I was happy just to have the guy still in my life, even if he was over a thousand miles away.
I threw my shit into his truck and hopped in the passenger seat. In a few seconds, we were off.
“So, tell me about life in New Mexico,” I asked him. “How are they treating you on the Santa Fe PD, Officer, uh . . . You know, no one ever told me your new name. What is it?”
“It’s my old name,” Falco said. “Irina and I are officially out of the WITSAC program, now. When Mancini went down, his whole empire fell like a house of cards. There is no one in his organization left to come after us—at least no one who’d give a shit about us.”
“So, why not come back to Nashville?” I asked.
“We established a new life, here, Hicks,” Falco said. “We like Santa Fe.”
“You know, I was at the big sting when the FBI busted in and took Mancini and his crew down,” I said.
“I wish I could have been there,” Falco said.
“You’re full of shit,” I replied. “Dollars to doughnuts you had your dick in that Russian redhead of yours when the whole thing was going down.”
He laughed, “So, Mancini got the death penalty?”
“He did, thanks to the testimony of your incredible wife,” I responded. “I’ll bet it was driving you crazy to not be there for her when she was on the stand.”
“It was,” Falco admitted. “It was all part of the WITSAC agreement. Mancini and his men had no idea who I was or that Irina and I were married. The FBI wanted to keep it that way. They wouldn’t allow me to come and see her testify.”
I nodded, “I know. Irina told me.”
“I heard you two spent some time together while she was in Nashville for the trial,” Falco said.
“We did. I got myself on her security detail with the Federal Marshals. They needed a female officer inside the safe house.”
“Thank you for doing that, Hicks,” he said.
“It was my pleasure,” I told him. “I got to spend some time with Irina. I was really wrong about her. She is an incredible woman.”
“Don’t I know that,” he offered. “She really enjoyed spending time with you, too. She said she got to know you really well.”
“She did. Her life story is amazing,” I volunteered. “She remembered every detail about you as a fifteen-year-old. When I heard her tell the story, I knew she was for real. That woman loves you in a manner that’s beyond measure. You hang on to her, Falco.”
“That’s the plan,” he agreed. “How was she on the stand?”
“She was fantastic,” I continued. “She was both likeable and credible. “When she came into the courtroom Mancini glared at her, trying to intimidate her, but she did not break a sweat. You gave her that strength, Falco. She held up under cross examination beautifully. I watched Mancini the whole time. When Irina didn’t cave under cross examination I bore witness to . . . the moment.”
“The moment?” Falco repeated.
“Yeah, that moment when Mancini realized that he was totally and irreversibly fucked.”
Falco laughed, “I would have loved to have seen that.”
“Yeah, I wish you were there. It was priceless.”
“So, how are things going for you?”
“You sure you want all the dirt now?” I replied. “No reason to blow in a black cloud over a happy occasion.”
“That bad, huh?” he said.
“Worse,” I said. “Paulson is a scumbag. He’s been gunning for me . . . hard. My new partner is an asshole. Shawna was my only real friend and she quit six months ago, got married and moved to Atlanta. I hate it there, Falco. If I stay, it’s only a matter of time before Paulson gets me on some chickenshit violation. I’m tappin’ out just as soon as I can.”
“Damn, Hicks,” Falco said. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m thinking of a change of scenery,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about New Orleans.”
“The Big Easy, huh,” he said. “Cool town. Lots of eligible men, there.”
“I’m not thinking about men right now, Falco.”
He smiled at me, mischievously, “Tell that shit to someone who doesn’t know you, Hicks. When you aren’t actually fucking men, you’re thinking about men.”
I blushed, placing my hand over my eyes, “Ok, guilty.”
“So, what’s new on the men front?” he asked.
“My story has yet to be written,” I said, “but I have high hopes. I’m in a good place, though.”
“Good.”
“Why are you turning off at this exit?” I continued.
“Because we have to get your dress for the wedding,” he replied.
“Yeah, that’s tomorrow, right?”
“Yep, thanks for coming.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. I think it’s romantic that you are giving Irina a real wedding,” I said. “I saw the venue online. Looks like it’s going to be quite the spectacle—live music, great food, great wine. Well done, Falco.”
“Yeah, now that we have new friends, I wanted to give Irina a real nice wedding. Plus, we want to renew our vows. Would you like to see the wedding band?”
“Hell yeah,” I said.
He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, handing it to me. I opened the case.
“Holy shit, Falco!” I exclaimed. “How can you afford this? Have you been fucking rich old ladies on the side for cash?”
He chuckled, “Hardly. Irina didn’t want anything so extravagant but I insisted. I’m on an easy payment plan.”
I shook my head, studying the ring. It was simply gorgeous.
“I’ll warn you Falco, I’m going to look like shit in a pink bridesmaid’s dress.”
“Fortunately for you, you won’t be wearing pink,” he said.
My face flushed with embarrassment, “Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry. I got the impression I was going to be a bridesmaid.”
“Nope,” he said. “She’s made new friends and made them her bridesmaids.”
I offered the ring back to him. He waved me off, “You hang on to it for me,” he said.
“Why?” I asked, “and if I’m not a bridesmaid why are we going someplace for a dress?”
“Because I’m wearing a black and purple tux,” Falco said. “My best man has to be wearing black and purple too. The dress you’ll be wearing is . . . black and purple.”
It took a second for it to sink in, “Are you saying . . .”
“I’m saying, it’s the best man’s job to hold the ring.”
I gasped, “I don’t know what to say, Falco. Are you sure you want me to be your best man, uh . . . er . . . woman?”
“We may be a thousand miles apart, but as far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be my partner.”
“Damn, Falco, you’re gonna make me cry,” I said, dabbing at my eyes. “Any other surprises?”
He smiled, “Well, Irina’s three months pregnant. We’re having a son. Does that qualify as a surprise?”
I slapped his shoulder again, “Holy shit. Get the fuck outta here. You’re going to be a father?”
“Right?”
“That poor little bastard.”
He chuckled again, “Luckily, Irina can still fit in her dress. I narrowly avoided a disaster.”
“I’m happy for you, Falco,” I continued. “All kidding aside, I think you’re going to make a great father.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Oh, there’s one last thing.”
“Jesus, Falco, cut a girl a break, will ya? I don’t think my heart can take any more.”
“Ok, never mind,” he said. “It wasn’t important anyway.”
He then glared at me, his eyes lit up, begging me to ask him to continue. I rolled my eyes and played along.
“Ok, I’ll bite,” I told him. “What is it?”
He reached over his visor and pulled a folded sheet of paper from it. He handed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“It’s a positions description for a police officer on the Santa Fe Police Department,” Falco said. “As it turns out, my current partner has just been promoted to detective. We have an opening.”
“Are you shitting me?” I said. “Me? In Santa Fe?”
“Why not?” he said. “The weather’s great, we have a whole slew of art galleries on Canyon Road, we’ve got bullfighting in the Plaza . . .”
“Everything a single girl needs, huh?” I chuckled. “You’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you?”
He shrugged and smiled.
“How did you know I was thinking of moving?” I continued.
“How do you think?”
“Nico . . .” I said. “Nico’s been talking to you.”
“He has. Hey, Hicks, I’m serious,” he said. “Things are fucked for you in Nashville. You don’t know anyone in New Orleans. I’ve told them about you—they’re interested. You want a new start. I’m here, now. And besides . . .”
“Besides what?” I asked.
“Irina and I thought it would be nice if our son’s godmother was living close by.”
I tried to fight it, but I couldn’t help it. Tears began to stream down my cheeks.
“A godmother, me?” I repeated.
Falco nodded, “We’d love for you to be involved in our son’s life—in all our lives.”
I chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I was just thinking . . . about you as a father and me being a godmother to the same kid,” I replied.
“I know . . . right?”
I nodded, “God help us all.”