Hooked

recalled Martell was related to Mario by marriage and figured a family problem tainted his previously high opinion of the accountant.
    “I’d hoped you were out of the business, Tawny. You’ve been lucky, but luck runs out.”
    You’re telling me. “You’re a good friend, Mario. But I made a deal with Cooper. He’s always wanted me to work for him, and he’s paying me a bundle. I only have to do this long enough to get the money. Then, if they don’t make an example of me and put me in jail anyway, I’m gone, like I planned.”
    He pulled the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and examined the label. “Not the best, but adequate. I know you don’t drink, but this is a special occasion. Please.”
    “How could I refuse?” She took the proffered flute. A mental smile surfaced when she thought back to Walsh and his supposition that all high-priced call girls drank only champagne. Surprisingly, she enjoyed the fizzy liquid. Dry, not sweet. Now that she wasn’t “in the life,” at least on her own, she might take to it.
    To you, Walsh , she thought as they clicked glasses and sipped. After topping a triangle of toasted bread with a dollop of caviar, she offered it to Mario.
    “Mmm, Cooper’s taste in caviar is better than his taste in champagne. Good.” He washed down the appetizer and said, “I’ve told you what’s going on because I want you to be careful, Tawny. Don’t let Cooper’s Wall Street background fool you. He’s more than an oversexed pimp. He rationalizes he’s giving people what they want, but when his back is against the wall, he has a highly-tuned sense of self-preservation, and he’ll play dirty to save himself. I won’t go into the particulars. Do your job and go home.”
    “Why didn’t you, y ou know―”
    “Make a lesson out of him? Because my guy was in the wrong, and I don’t want it out in the open. But heed my warning.”
    “Does it have anything to do with the girl fished out of the harbor?”
    “I know nothing about that.” He kissed her forehead. “Tha t’s all, Tawny. No more questions.”
    She wanted to pump him for more information, but when Mario Russo said enough, he meant it. He wouldn’t incriminate himself or anyone working for him. There was too much going on here for some of it not to be connected. A dead prostitute, two women leaving Upper Eighties under suspicious circumstances—one of them missing—and now to find out that someone from Mario Russo’s family was involved. The old saying that if you lie down with dogs, you’ll get up with fleas came to mind. Tawny had managed to keep the fleas away for fifteen years, and ever since she decided to get out of the game, the fleas were attacking like, well, fleas. The idea she was doing the work for the feds and the NYPD started her itching.
    Walsh must know about her relationship with Mario. He said as much the first day they met. Five Families. Isn’t that how he put it? But how? She never uttered a word about her trysts with Mario Russo. Not to anyone. And she was sure Mario never spoke of it either.
    If Walsh knew, it was because the feds were watching Mario. Were they watching him now? If so, she would deny knowing anything about Mario’s presence at Upper Eighties. He was not part of her game, and she wouldn’t stab him in the back. He’d helped her when she needed help, and he’d help her again if she asked.
    “So, Mario, it’s been awhile. How may I please you?”
    “You can sit here with me and keep me company.” He took her hand and held it.
    “Come on. We’ve known each other a long time.”
    “Yes, a very long time, but it’s been months since you quit the business and gave up our visits. So thank you for not reacting when you saw me. It must have been a shock.”
    It had been, but she managed to keep her reaction from showing. “I’ve seen you looking better. I figured you’d been ill.”
    Russo lifted his champagne glass with a bony hand. He took a long drink and put it on the table. “I have cancer, Tawny. I look like the Grim Reaper has already claimed me, I know. My days are numbered, and the chemo has slowed me down. Can’t get it up any more, my dear. Companionship is all I can manage. I came tonight because Cooper offered me the best of the best and said I would be satisfied. I was curious.” His expression alternated between pleasure and sadness. “I should have known.”
    “Mario, I’m so sorry.”
    He’d been Tawny’s client for many years.