Read Cross & Crown Online

Authors: Abigail Roux

Cross & Crown (21 page)

Kelly couldn’t stop himself from gawking. He could see more and more why Nick had wanted to bring him here for a little romance. Hints of the brick from the original jail
structure showed along the outer wall, but the majority of the wall consisted of an enormous decorative window, just like the one that had greeted them at the front entrance.

The room had been rearranged, with more seating being brought in to accommodate everyone. Paddy sat near the window, smoking a cigar. He gestured for them to join him.

One of the bodyguards stopped them, though, stepping in front of Nick when he moved forward. Nick didn’t back away, merely side-eyed the larger man, jaw tightening. Kelly cursed internally and slid a little so he was in front of JD if things went south.

“Need to check you over one more time,” the bodyguard told Nick. There was something in his voice, though, a taunt perhaps. Enjoyment. Kelly got the feeling that Mikey’s attitude in regards to Nick’s sexual orientation was perhaps the outlier in this organization. Keep your hands inside the ride, indeed.

“Be gentle with that one,” Paddy warned, and he sounded amused.

The bodyguard sniffed, then grabbed Nick’s arm and turned him, shoving him against the wall. Nick hit hard, slamming his face and chest. The man kicked Nick’s feet apart, then pressed his hand against the back of Nick’s head and rammed Nick’s cheek into the plaster again. Kelly jerked to move, but Julian’s hand on his elbow stopped him. If they started a fight here, they’d all leave the hotel in body bags.

Nick’s face was turned away from them, so Kelly couldn’t see his eyes, couldn’t gauge his expression. Kelly gritted his teeth, preparing to watch this guy manhandle his lover and unable to do anything about it.

“Watch the suit, huh?” Nick said, and his voice was deceptively calm.

The bodyguard laughed. As soon as he took a step back and gave Nick enough room, Nick brought his elbow hard into the man’s temple, then spun and kicked him, grabbing for the holster under the man’s jacket and pulling the gun away as he stumbled back from the kick. It was all dizzyingly fast, even for Kelly, who had seen the move plenty of times before.

With a few rapid flicks of his fingers, Nick had pulled the slide off the Glock and dropped the magazine to the floor. He stepped on the magazine, then dropped the gun and tossed the slide toward Mikey, who caught it with a grin as wide as a cartoon cat.

The bodyguard got to his feet again, glaring at Nick and flexing his shoulders. His nose was bloody.

Paddy cackled gleefully. “Told you to be gentle with that one. Now get the fuck on that door, both of you,” he added, waving at the bodyguards. “Fucking useless bastards.”

They grudgingly took up their posts on the door, but not before the bloody one pointed at Nick and murmured a threat under his breath. Nick watched him, only turning back to face Paddy once he was between JD and the bodyguard.

Paddy stood and came closer, opening his arms for a hug that Nick returned stiffly. The mob boss pulled him close like he was embracing a son, though, patting him on the back and then on his head like a proud father might before pulling him over to the couches. “Been a while, Nicky.”

“No one calls him that anymore, boss,” Mikey informed him with a cheeky grin.

Paddy gave Nick’s cheek an affectionate tap, then sat. He gestured for all of them to take seats. Kelly was confused again. Nick had been so tense, so worried, but this was a
warmer reception than Nick received at his own home when he visited.

Paddy propped one leg on his other knee and reclined, arms on the back of the sofa. He surveyed the four of them. Julian had remained standing, his arms crossed. Mikey stood beside him, hands in his pockets, looking at ease. JD and Kelly flanked Nick on the sofa. They waited silently while Paddy looked them over.

“So,” he finally said. “You need my help again.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” Nick said, words coated in ice.

Paddy laughed. He pointed at Nick while glancing at Kelly. “So fucking stubborn. He ever told you this story?”

Kelly shook his head, then remembered Nick’s warning about being respectful. “No, sir.”

Paddy grunted. “First time I saw these two chuckleheads, they were sixteen, walking down the street from baseball practice. That one had a black eye.” He pointed at Nick again. “Looked so much like my son, Patrick Jr. Lost him to a goddamn drunk driver the year before. Saw Nicky and thought he was a ghost. I stopped my car, called to him, asked him how he got that shiner. And this fucking kid, he looks me straight in the eye. You know how many people look me straight in the eye, even back then?”

Kelly shrugged uncomfortably.

“No fucking one.” He looked back at Nick almost sadly. “Didn’t take a fucking genius to figure out his old man was knocking him around, so I asked him, big kid like you, why don’t you knock back? He meets my eyes again and he says, ‘’Cause I got people more important than me at home to take care of, Paddy.’ He fucking knew who I was. Wasn’t afraid of me.”

Kelly glanced at Nick, his heart aching. “With a father like his, why should he be afraid of anyone?” he asked softly.

“You damn right,” Paddy snarled. “Damn right. I told him I’d help him out. I’d protect his sisters if he’d protect me. He was good on his word, and I was good on mine. Even gave him a ride to the airport and paid for his fucking ticket to go to Parris Island when it was time. I had pride in my heart for this boy just like he was my own son.”

Kelly’s eyes widened. He’d never heard any of this. Nick was stone-faced, though, not reacting at all to the information being revealed, or to the almost kind words the notorious criminal was saying about him.

“He came back home and went to work for the other guy,” Paddy said with a sigh. “Always were the good egg no matter how hard I tried to boil you. So you come to me asking for help, I’m giving it to you. No questions asked.”

Nick swallowed hard. “Mikey told you what we’re looking for?”

“He did.” Paddy gave Mikey a nod.

Kelly didn’t like the fact that Mikey was moving around behind him, but he was trying not to be tense or appear nervous. He had to trust Julian to watch their backs for them, which was admittedly a little hard to do.

“You have a lead for us?” Nick asked, growing impatient.

“Better.”

Mikey set a reinforced suitcase on the table between them, and Paddy leaned over to put in a code, then prop the lid open. He turned it to display the contents to them with a flourish.

On the cushioned interior of black felt sat a sparkling piece of jewelry. Roughly four inches wide, with bright-blue
enamel that was covered in diamonds, emeralds, and rubies. Kelly recognized it as the star brooch from Julian’s photo.

“Jesus Christ,” Julian blurted.

Nick lowered his head, rubbing his hands over his face. He’d just been shown stolen goods and was powerless to do anything about it. It had to be killing his sense of duty. Kelly put his hand on Nick’s knee.

“A replica, of course, of the one stolen and smuggled into Boston a century ago,” Paddy said cheekily. “I keep it to… honor our Irish roots.”

“Right,” Nick grunted. He sat forward, looking but not touching.

“What exactly is it you need from this?” Mikey asked.

Nick gave him a wary glance. “It’s supposed to point to a location.”

“Like a treasure map?” Mikey asked.

Nick nodded.

JD slid off the sofa to his knees, his fingers gripping the table. “May I touch it?” he asked. It was the first thing he’d said since the elevator. He’d obviously forgotten he was scared.

Paddy merely chuckled. He waved for JD to go ahead.

They crowded around it, scowling at the priceless piece like it was a Rubik’s Cube instead of a treasure that had gone missing over a hundred years ago. The emeralds were stunningly green, and they made up a clover in the center of the field of diamonds. Brilliant red rubies formed an X behind it. But there was nothing else. Just precious gems. No message, no sign. Nothing that would point in any way to a location or clue.

“I don’t understand,” Julian said. He was leaning over the back of the couch, breathing down their necks. “They said it would be there.”

Nick massaged the bridge of his nose. “Is it possible these people wanted you to locate
this
instead of something more?” he asked.

“Good luck to them, if that’s the case,” Julian said with a salute toward Paddy.

“Why did they think it would be here?” Kelly asked.

“The man responsible for the design was a descendant of the soldier who hid the stolen goods,” Julian explained. “There were several accounts, private accounts, that the clues to its whereabouts were passed along.”

JD tore his attention away from the star to turn it to Paddy. “Do you have a loupe?”

Paddy rubbed his finger across the tip of his nose, nodding. He gestured for one of the men at the door to retrieve it.

Nick still had his head down, his thumbs massaging his temples. “This treasure hunt is just as pointless as the one we send those kids on every summer.”

Kelly patted his knee, trying to offer some sort of comfort. Nick had just sold his soul to get a look at this thing, all for nothing. The memory of Nick’s notes for that treasure hunt flashed through Kelly’s mind. Then it hit him.

“Oh my God, it’s a pigpen cipher!” he blurted.

Nick raised his head, blinking rapidly at Kelly then glancing at the star in JD’s hand.

“Look it,” Kelly said, reaching to take it from JD. He drew his finger across the rubies, then pointed at each tip of the clover so they could envision it. It formed a perfect piece to a pigpen cipher, with the shapes of the clover creating the message.

“Motherfucker,” Nick breathed.

“What does it mean?” Julian demanded.

“Pigpen ciphers are usually dots, but this is shapes,” Nick told him. “Three circles and an arch. I know arches are supposed to represent power, monarchy, manliness… sometimes the warrior class. But this one’s on its head, I have no idea what that means. And circles, I don’t know.”

“You said there were more pieces stolen when this was?” Kelly asked. “I bet together, they form a complete cipher.”

Nick nodded toward Paddy. “Any ideas?”

“The other pieces, I can’t help you with,” Paddy told them. “You can imagine that stealing the Irish Crown Jewels brought enough attention; keeping them together as a collection would have been…”

“Stupid,” Nick provided.

Paddy gave them that crooked grin again, and again it made Kelly uneasy.

“Where the other pieces ended up, I don’t know. You could speak to our… brethren in New York. Chicago. But even I can’t get a cop through their doors for a treasure hunt, kiddo.”

Nick’s jaw tightened and he nodded.

“Maybe there’s more etched in the stones,” JD said. He pointed to the jeweler’s loupe Nosebleed was bringing them. They were all silent as JD examined the stones for markings. After a few minutes, he sighed and set the star brooch and the loupe down on the cushion. “Nothing.”

“Where does that leave us?” Julian asked.

“With a very expensive… copy,” Nick answered, voice gone soft with defeat. His eyes were locked on Paddy’s.

“Well,” Paddy said, and he clapped his hands together. “It seems our meeting has come to an end.” He climbed to his feet, and they all stood with him. He reached for Nick’s
hand, shaking it warmly, and a moment later he pulled Nick into another hug. For an infamous mob boss, he sure did seem fond of the police.

This time, Nick returned the embrace a bit more sincerely. “Thank you,” Nick said, almost inaudible.

Paddy tapped Nick’s cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Don’t be a stranger, kiddo.”

“Don’t hold your breath, old man.”

Paddy barked a laugh. “This make us even?”

“I got one more left,” Nick told him. “Mark it in your damn book so your boys know it.”

Paddy was still chuckling when the door closed behind them.

“One more?” Mikey asked Nick as he led them to the elevator. Nick was silent, but Kelly wished like hell Mikey would press him for details so Kelly wouldn’t have to later. Mikey stopped him in the middle of the hall, standing in front of him with his hand on Nick’s chest. “You telling me Paddy owed you a solid? Owed you
two
solids?”

A slow, crooked smile spread across Nick’s face. It was his only response.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you fucking fucker,” Mikey said affectionately, and he stepped aside so they could continue on to the elevator. Kelly punched the button. Mikey pulled Nick into a hug, squeezing him tightly. “You be careful out there, huh? You left Boston to save your fucking life and then spent every fucking day trying to die.”

“Watch your fucking mouth.” Nick patted him on the back of the head, and then they released each other. “You get in trouble, you know who to call.”

“Anybody but you.”

“That’s right,” Nick drawled, and stepped into the elevator with the others. Mikey stood there grinning, his hands in his suit pockets as the doors closed.

“How the bleeding hell do you acquire not one, but
two
favors from the Irish mob?” Julian demanded on the way down.

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