Hooked

“I’m going to find the doctor. See if there’s any change in Russo’s status.”
    “You couldn’t have stopped her,” Harry said. “She saw Martell yesterday. Maybe he said something that got her thinking he killed the Dyson girl, and she wanted proof before she said anything.”
    Linc stopped. He stared at Harry a long time, almost as if he were seeing through him. His heart almost stopped. “You…you knew Tawny was at Martell’s. And you knew Martell was dead. How?”
    “It was all over the news, Linc.”
    “No. Not initially. Last evening, when Dennis and I were on the way back from Martell’s. I tried calling to tell you, but your phone went to voicemail, and I never got around to it. The news wasn’t made public until long after. I purposely told the guys at the 62 to put a lid on Martell’s death because it jeopardized Tawny. Then, when you called me back, you asked me if Tawny knew about Martell. Later, after the news broke, you said if Russo knew Tawny saw Reggie at Martell’s she’d be in serious trouble.” He shook his head. “Something like that. The detectives surely called Martell’s wife, and she called Russo. No one else knew. But you knew, Harry.”
    Harry rarely lost his composure. Calm and steady. That was Harry. But Linc saw it now. The nervous reaction, the sputter.
    “Someone must have called me. I don’t know. I can’t remember who.”
    The picture forming in Linc’s mind was so preposterous he didn’t want to believe it. The man who meant the most to him, the beacon who’d saved him from being passed from one foster home to another, probably from one jail to another, had sold his soul to the devil. Dazed, he stumbled to a seat in the waiting room, his whole world collapsing inside him. Nothing made sense anymore.
    Harry joined him. “It’s not what you think.”
    “No? Then what is it? How did you know something you couldn’t have known? There’s only one way. Russo. He’s been ahead of us every step of the way. He knew Tawny would be at Cooper’s tonight. I sure as hell didn’t tell him. He knew enough to block Clauson’s car. I didn’t tell him that either.” Linc covered his face with his hands, rubbed his eyes. He mustered the courage to face Harry. “How long?”
    Harry shook his head. “Don’t go there, Linc. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    Linc rocked in his seat, his stomach tied into a knot. “My God, you know where she is.”
    “You’re way off base.” Harry’s face tightened, and he leaned into Linc. “Leave it alone, son. This has nothing to do with you.”
    Linc struggled for breath. “It has everything to do with me. Where is she?”
    “She’ll ruin your career, your life. You’ll be right back where you started when I took you off the streets.”
    “Jesus, Harry. How could you? Russo of all people. What did he have on you?”
    “Doctors aren’t talking,” Clauson said, joining the two men. He glanced from Harry to Linc. “Hey, did I interrupt something? Family business, maybe?”
    “Yeah,” Linc said, staring at Harry’s gray face. “Family business.” He forced his gaze away to face Clauson. “Jim, do you mind. I need a couple of minutes more with Harry.”
    Clauson shrugged. “No problem. You sick, Harry? You look terrible.”
    “I’m fine. Give us a minute, will ya?”
    “Sure. I’ll be over there.” Looking confused, Clauson sauntered over to the nurse’s station. He glanced once over his shoulder.
    Harry leaned back in his chair, avoiding Linc’s eyes.
    “Talk to me, Harry.”
    Harry stared straight ahead, his breathing slow and steady. After a few minutes, he spoke in a dull monotone. “It was right after Davey died. You know the story, my son had been sick for over two years, in and out of hospitals, treatments, everything we could do to keep him alive. Insurance paid for most of the medical bills, but we were still left with an exorbitant amount. Out of my reach, really. I was just starting at the agency.” He glanced at Linc for the first time. “You don’t do this work for the money. You know what beginners make, and that was thirty years ago.”
    He didn’t wait for an answer. “Russo was making his bones in his father’s organization. Hard to say this now, but my bosses thought, as far as mobsters, he was one of the better ones.” Harry’s laugh reeked of sarcasm. “Now there’s an oxymoron for you, a good mobster. But Mario Russo was more a split personality, the