His Mafia Queen

Dangerous Secrets

RILEY

It's nearly 5 p.m. on Tuesday and I'm counting the minutes until I can leave the newsroom.

I've done fuck-all today, other than a short story about a man who tried to steal a chainsaw by stuffing it down his pants.

Predictably, the story went viral when it hit our website, and the editors are thrilled at the web traffic. I keep beating myself up for not doing more today—not doing more interviews about Doyle's death, not looking into other mafia tips, not getting out and talking to cops at the station about what's really going on in the city.

After I wrote the stupid chainsaw story, I grabbed some coffee and sat at my desk, searching for more information about Catherine Trafficante, her father Donnie, and of course, Gabriel.

I haven't found out anything I didn't already know about Gabriel. And Catherine disappeared more than a decade ago, so not much is public about her.

Donnie, on the other hand, is practically a masterclass of the Florida mafia. Because of his legal issues—he was indicted several times over the decades but was never convicted, probably because he had the best lawyers money could buy—there was plenty to read.

I discover that Donnie controlled North Florida, another man South Florida, and the Greco family's jurisdiction was the rest, including Tampa. I learn that the three bosses meet often, and wonder when Gabriel does that, and where.

Does he bring people to his house? Or does he go to an office, all legitimate-like? Or is it a clandestine back room of a strip club, like the Sopranos?

These are details I never considered when I thought about the Irish Mafia back home. Mostly I hadn't wanted to acknowledge it existed, because it was a little too close to home—my home. And then when Lorna was murdered, all I wanted was for the entire organization to burn in hell.

And look at me now...

I let out a sigh while sitting at my desk. I'm getting nowhere researching Catherine, and my mind has exploded with theories, many of them dark and depressing.

Did Gabriel have something to do with her disappearance? My gut tells me he did.

As awful as that thought is, another equally unsettling emotion has welled inside me.

Jealousy.

What was Gabriel's true relationship with Catherine? Somehow I got the impression that he hasn't had a serious relationship in a long time, if ever. Either he led me to believe that, or...

I'm deep into his bullshit. Believing only the good things. Ignoring the terrible stuff simply because he's hot, because he's great in bed, because he has that adorable fucking smile.

Just like Lorna had.

I'm sipping on my giant iced coffee—which is no longer iced, just lukewarm, watery, and gross—when someone waves a hand in front of my face.

"Riley? Riley! What is going on with you? You're sitting there like you're in a trance. Are you okay?"

"Hunh? Yeah, I'm fine, sorry. I'm just zoning out, thinking. I do that sometimes." I set down my coffee and muster a smile. "What's up?"

Brynn scowls. "Your story about the chainsaw theft guy is everywhere. I even heard Mike talk about how a big network TV station called and wanted someone to go on camera to talk about breaking the story. You going to do it?"

I blink. "What? No one's said anything about TV. And that's silly, it was just a little story I got from a police report and one interview with the cops."