The Untouchables (33 page)

He wants to do this now?

“We’re just blessed, I think. Good things happen to good people, right? I still can’t believe all that mess with the First Lady.”

“You know,” he laughed, “there’s this crazy rumor going around about how you were all connected in this somehow. That this was all part of your husband’s master plan to get his guy in the White House for his own agenda. The First Lady said she had help, but she didn’t know the woman’s name. What do you think about that?”

He was pushing the wrong hormonal woman right now.

“Should I…call my husband or my lawyer or something?” I asked him, rubbing my stomach.

Before he could speak, Brooks walked up beside him. “Mrs. Callahan? Is there anything I can do for you? I’m so sorry, none of us knew you were coming in today.”

“No, Officer…?”

“Brooks, Ma’am. Your family helped pay for my old partner’s injuries from that Chicago factory fire last year.” He reached out and shook my hand. The moment his rough hands met mine, I squeezed before letting go.

“Please, don’t thank us or apologize. I’m the one who came unannounced. I had some information I wanted to pass on to Ms. Morales. But Officer Scatter…”

“Scooter.”

“Right.” I blushed. “Told me he would handle it. I really should get going before my husband calls searching for me.”

Before I could leave, the golden haired fucker had to get the last word.

“I’m glad to see the rumors of you marrying a Callahan for power were all false. You both seem very happy.”

Biting my tongue, I forced myself to smile once more. “All these rumors. No wonder you all can’t bring down the crime rate. It seems all you do is gossip. Good day.”

Monte opened the door to the street as the car pulled up onto the curb. I wobbled slowly down the stairs with Fedel hovering behind me. They all did that, and now that I was showing so much, I couldn’t even get out of bed without help. Sliding in, I took off my hat, throwing it against the seat.

“That no good motherfucking cocksucker! I want his head! I want to beat the shit out of him until his neck snaps and then drop him over a damn canyon!” I yelled, breathing through my nose as I rubbed circles on my stomach.

“Ma’am, please. Mr. Callahan—”

“I swear on your head that if you tell me to calm down out of fear of my husband, Fedel, I will remind who I am—baby or no fucking baby. Do you understand me?” Liam had all but drilled into their minds that I was in need of not only a bodyguard, but someone to keep me calm.

He nodded, glancing over at Monte as if to say:
you’re up.

“Would you like me to handle the officer, Ma’am?” Monte looked back at me.

“No.” I wanted to be the one to take care of that self-righteous prick. But he couldn’t die, not yet. “I want eyes on him at all times. I don’t want to deal with another wannabe hero cop. Right now, I’m more worried about making sure this plan works.”

“Ma’am, why go through all this trouble for a maid?” Fedel asked. “She hasn’t said anything to the police in months.” For some reason, his voice was just grating the fuck out of my nerves.

“We can’t kill her if the police have her under protection, and killing her would only make us look bad. Aviela went through a lot to prevent us from winning the White House, and in a matter of weeks, we will have eighty-seven percent of the electorate. There has to be backlash for that, and we don’t want them using the maid against us. So we have to keep the only leverage we have: her son. She can have a job and her child, that is just as good as buying her off. Aviela can’t get to us through her.”

“But will he let the maid know?”

Grinning, I nodded and stared out of the window. I waited for the phone call I knew would be next. When Beau had called informing us about his partner’s ambition, we’d figured it was best to kill as many birds as possible with one bullet. We would prevent Aviela from taking any action against us through the maid, make sure she couldn’t kill the maid, and now we had given Officer Scooter a damn bone.

“Ma’am, Beau’s on the line.” Monte turned, handing me the phone.

“Put him on speaker,” I whispered, rubbing circles into my stomach as I closed my eyes. I really wanted to take a hot bath and unwind; the pains in my ankles were a nuisance.

“You’re on,” Monte said to him.

“Ma’am, you were right, Scooter wants the maid to go undercover at the house after she’s testified. He’s running it past the Chief now. Should I—”

“Help them anyway you can, Brooks. Goodbye.”

“Oh shit.” Fedel stated forcing me to snap open my eyes. They both stared out the windows with their mouths hanging open before Fedel met my eyes in the rear-view mirror.

Looking out, I felt myself starting to hyperventilate. There on the Callahan’s giant entryway was a massive blue sign draped in ugly birds, rattles, and cribs.

“Please tell me that doesn’t say what I think it says,” I hissed, my nostrils flaring as we drove.

I stared at the onslaught of cars swarming like an invasive species in our driveway. All the damn women from Evelyn’s monthly charity functions were there with their fake Stepford wife smiles, and big boxes with obnoxiously large bows. It was like they were walking in slow motion with the wind blowing their hair back and their laughs reaching my already frayed nerves. Jesus Christ, it was a whole other level of hell!

“I’m going to bloody kill her. Chop her into little bits and sprinkle her over fucking Lake Michigan.” I couldn’t believe—well, I could believe she would do this, but damn it all. “Is there any way to get to the garage?”

“No, Ma’am,” Monte said. “All these cars are in the way, and she’s spotted us.” He nodded over at the woman dressed all in blue, waving and smiling at all the other women I knew she hated as she made her way over.

I could handle a lot of things, but a crazed mother-in-law was not one of them. But I couldn’t hide out in the car like a bitch. Damn her.

Dear God, give me the strength not to kill anyone.

Stepping out, I was met by one of the plastics with the fakest red hair I’d ever seen.

“Oh my God!” she yelled and it sounded like she had cats trying to claw their way out of her throat. “Melody, you’re huge! Are you sure you aren’t having twins? My cousin totally, like seriously, thought she was only having one. I kept telling her, ‘Sissy, you’re huge! There has to be another baby in there somewhere!’ And lo and behold, she was having
triplets
. You’re just giant, how are you still in those heels of yours? I love Giuseppe Zanotti, but there is no way I could ever wear them while I was pregnant. Not at least with my first child, this is your first child, right? You and Liam must be so excited, a boy…” The moment her hand went to my stomach, I grabbed a hold of it as I stared into her eyes.

I wanted to kill her. She just kept yapping away. I didn’t even know who the fuck she was, and she was talking to me as though we were best friends. I wasn’t going to make it. Who did she think she was? Who did she think
I
was, that she could just come up to me like this?

“Melody, my arm.” She winced, as she fucking should.

“Mel, dear!” Evelyn came over, pulling me into a one armed hug, effectively loosening my hand off the very lucky woman in front of us. “You and that pregnancy grip of yours. I swear she could make men cry without even knowing. Are you alright, Nicole?”

“Of course,” cried the hyena, “I’m not some delicate little flower. I’m stronger than…”

“Thank you, Nicole. We will see you inside, we have great
wine
.” That shut her up and sent her running like a dog with a fresh scent.

“Now Mel, before you threaten to kill me—” Evelyn said.

“We’re beyond that, Evelyn. I’m now trying to figure out where to dump your body.”

Sighing, she rolled her eyes before taking my arm in hers. “Mel, I know you hate this type of thing, but it’s all I have. You have your empire, well this mine. I handle public image. I’m the reason why, if
God-forbid
you all need character witnesses, we have people to spare. My first grandchild is going to have a goddamned baby-shower and it’s gonna be the best one in the state. There will be cake, there will be pictures, and there will be baby games. You will handle it out of pure love for me, Mel, because you have not seen me crazy yet. Once they are drunk enough, you can leave, okay?”

“I want Liam here. None of that all female bullshit,” I replied, waving at a few more women as they stepped out of their cars.

“He’s already here.” She smiled, leading me to the door.

This would be the longest few hours of my life.

LIAM

Everything within the house was dripping in blue and white; blue and white chairs, blue and white crystal chandeliers, paints, gift bags. If you could see it, it was either blue or white. It had taken her six hours to pull this shit off while Mel and I weren’t home. Which meant she must have been planning this for weeks, and my father kept his mouth shut until it was too fucking late.

There were more intoxicated housewives in my house than in all of Orange County; and they sat in one massive circle around Mel, in the midst of our living room.

“She’s being…unlike herself,” my father whispered beside me. We were prisoners, unable to move out of the room, but unable to get close to the damn circle. So all we could do was stand by the door with our tinted blue wine glasses and watch.

Mel laughed, pulling out yet another wool onesie, which would go great with the wool vest she had gotten before, along with the silk scarf, cashmere booties and the red fleece jacket. After all, newborns just love their fleece. Mel smiled and thanked them before looking up at me and showing the ridiculous outfit. All of them snapped their necks as they turned towards me, awaiting my approval; it was only when they weren’t looking that Mel’s brown eyes glazed over with rage. She was being tortured, but so was I; all I could do was nod and grin as well.

“How much longer must this charade go on? I have plans for us tonight,” I whispered. Though now that my mother had sprung this on her, I doubted Melody would want to go.

“Until your mother has enough pictures to fill up half your child’s baby book,” my father answered. “What are your plans?”

Pulling out the tickets from my coat pocket, I handed them over to him.

“Bianca e Falliero by Felice Romani?” he read. “I wasn’t aware you enjoyed opera. It’s a beautiful one.”

“I don’t, she does. And since when do you know opera?” He had never once spoken about that hobby before.

He smirked. “I know all, son.”

“Bull—”

“Who is this from?” Mel asked, searching the white box in her hands for a tag or card. No one answered, each of the women looking at each other commenting only on the wrapping.

“Were all the gifts wanded and hand checked by the men?” I asked my father, leaning off the wall when Melody’s eyes met mine again.

“All of them were, including that one. I saw to it myself, though we didn’t check for cards,” he responded.

Each one of the women leaned forward, all of them dying to see what was inside. I, on the other hand, was not taking any chances.

“Can a father-to-be open one of the gifts? Or am I breaking some ancient tradition?” I winked at them, causing Mel and my mother to roll their eyes while the sane women giggled.

“Oh, I don’t see why not. Right, ladies?” one of them said.

“Of course!” another answered.

“This is so sweet,” someone else said. “You guys should take a picture. Right, Evelyn?”

Coming up to my wife, I kissed her cheek before taking the box slowly out of her hands. The whole thing was padded and soft when I lifted the lid. I mentally prepared myself for everything but what it was…

“Aww!” they cooed as I pulled out the white teddy bear dressed in the finest black suit a bear could have, along with a top hat and a small tommy gun in his hand.

“A little violent, but so cute,” said another one of them.

“Liam, sweetheart. There’s a note in the jacket pocket.” My mother pointed and sure enough, right in front of its tiny red handkerchief was a little card that had only two words and a letter written upon it:

Love Mom

~A

“Thank you all for this,” I said. “Honestly, our son is going to want for nothing. I’ll escape back into my little corner now.” They laughed. At least someone could laugh as I handed the mafia bear back to Mel.

She didn’t look at me. Instead, she focused on the women in front of her, asking for the cake.

Stepping into the hall with my father, I did my best not to yell. Someone was going to die. I wasn’t sure who, but I knew damn well it wasn’t going to be my wife, my child or myself.

“There is a mole in my house. This is the second time she’s gotten in. I want them found,
now
.”

TWENTY-NINE

“Blood!…Blood!… That’s a good thing! A ghost who bleeds is less dangerous!”

—Gaston Leroux

MELODY

Sitting at my vanity, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the idiotic toy. My mother was like the Joker, playing mind games with people all while reminding us that she was always there, lurking. Somehow she had gotten this toy to me without appearing on any cameras and without alerting any of the men on guard. Liam had already taken it apart and stuffed it back together, there were no cameras or wires in it. It was just a toy. I didn’t get it. Even with how fucked up I was, every time I looked down at my stomach, I felt my throat close up as I tried to fight back the emotions building their way up. He wasn’t even here yet and I knew I would die—that I would do anything—for him. How could my own mother be so hell-bent on destroying me? Even with her issues with Orlando, I’d come from her, I was part of her, and she still wanted to kill me.

“You look stunningly beautiful,” Liam said as he stepped up behind me, and met my gaze in the mirror.

I couldn’t help but grin as I turned to face him. There he stood, not even a foot away from me, dressed in a full tuxedo, shiny black shoes and he’d even bothered to comb his hair.