In Too Deep: A Romantic Suspense Novel (57 page)

I turned to the Mayor, looking him in the eye. "Nobody here has the, excuse the term, the stones to do a damn thing about it. So here's what's going to happen. Me and Sophie here, we're leaving. But before we leave, we're making sure that in the next election, this city gets a Mayor that will actually stand up and try to make things better. I don't give a damn about the party, or what their stance is on Common Core education standards, or whether they like their pizza crust thick or thin. What I care about is if they are willing to do what is needed to break the stranglehold that the criminals in this city have on it."

"That's a lofty goal for someone who's going to cut and run," Berkowitz retorted. "And just how are you planning on accomplishing this goal?"

"The same way that I went from being a nobody in this city to being able to arrive a half hour late for a meeting and get more done in fifteen minutes than you have in years," I said simply, standing up. "By the way, Ms. Berkowitz, how is it that a simple community organizer and union member can afford a custom tailored suits with handmade Italian leather high heels for a business meeting? Mr. Mayor, we can talk later. Have a good day."

The room rumbled while Sophie and I left, and I heard comments behind us. As Sophie and I were making our way through the marble halls of the foyer, I heard someone calling my name behind us. "Marcus! Marcus Smiley!"

I turned and saw the Mayor walking with a purpose towards me, trying not to look like he was rushing after me, but not doing too good of a job. "Mr. Mayor. When I said we could talk later, I didn't think you would want to five minutes later."

"You pissed off a lot of very powerful people in there, Marcus," the Mayor replied, as we turned and kept walking. Coming out into the sunlight of the mid afternoon, we walked across Civic Plaza, stopping by a hot dog cart to grab some food.

"Four big dogs," I told the cart vendor, while Sophie pulled some cash out of her purse. Nodding to her, I turned my attention back to the Mayor. "I know I pissed them off, Mr. Mayor. But those people need to get pissed off. They've been sitting in ivory towers for far too long, meanwhile the very foundation of their towers are sinking in a flood of sewage and shit."

"You have quite a way with words, Marcus," the Mayor replied. "By the way, outside just call me Joe. That Mayor stuff can be saved for the press and official duties. I hope one of those dogs is for me."

"Of course, although don't think I'm trying to influence you with it," I said with a smirk. I handed one to Sophie and one to the Mayor, and all of us put our toppings on. The Mayor was a chili and ketchup man, not too bad in my opinion. You can tell a lot about someone by their taste in hotdog toppings. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"Walk with me," the Mayor said, indicating towards the rest of the plaza. I nodded, and the three of us walked and ate at the same time, a rather impressive feat for Sophie who was wearing one of her sexy suits and carrying a purse and briefcase along with eating a hot dog. "You pissed off some people, but I agree with you overall."

"Then why did you have the meeting with them?" I asked, not mentioning the fact that his very own deputy mayor was one of the biggest criminals in the city. The time wasn't right yet. "You look like a hypocrite doing so."

"Most politicians have to be," the Mayor replied. "But I'd like it to be different."

"I'm sure, but I'm afraid it might be too late for you," I said, looking around. I could see that while a few people were looking at us, there was nobody who might be eavesdropping. "You know that the biggest criminal in the city works for you. Or do you work for him?"

The Mayor looked at me with a moment of panic on his face, and almost choked on the last bite of his hotdog. I, on the other hand, finished off my first dog and started on my second. "So you know too."

"For quite a while," I said, stopping and casually tucking another bit of hotdog into my mouth. I don't know what the City Hall hot dog vendors used for their product, but it was the best damn dog in the city. "And I know something else, too."

"What?" the Mayor said shakily, still recovering from the news that I knew.

"Owen Lynch is going to be caught up in all this, very soon now. If you want any chance of surviving this politically, you need to distance yourself from him immediately. Tell me, who is honest and has the balls to take him down in the state level?"

"At the state level? Nobody. Owen's got connections up there too, he's tied in with all the movers and shakers all the way to the governor's office. But if you're looking for a cop or prosecutor who's willing to take him down, Bennie Fernandez at the DOJ is your man. He's as clean as a whistle, and Owen hates his guts. If it wasn't that Bennie is kept busy chasing the small fish, Owen would have had him taken out long ago."

"I know who Fernandez is," I said. "And you're sure that he can take Lynch down?"

"If there's any evidence. But Owen didn't get to where he is without being slippery. Guy makes Teflon look like super glue."

"I know. Okay, Joe. Thanks for the information. Trust what I said though, you need to dump Lynch now. As for me and Sophie, we're leaving town tonight. We won't be back."

The Mayor nodded, and held out his hand. We shook, and the Mayor turned to leave. About halfway there, he turned back, a questioning look in his eyes. "Who are you, Marcus Smiley? Really?"

I shrugged and gave him a grin. "It's not who I am underneath that counts, but what I do that is important."

The Mayor looked at me quizzically for a moment before turning and going back towards City Hall. Sophie, who had watched the entire exchange silently, watched him go. "You think you can trust him?"

"Yeah. He knows he's in league with dirt, but he's tried his best to be as clean as a politician can be in this city. Besides, he was legit on Bennie Fernandez. Sal Giordano hates that guy too. I'm only worried about one thing."

Sophie watched the Mayor start up the steps to City Hall. "What's that?"

"How anyone can consider themselves worthy of leading a city and not get such an obvious Batman reference. Come on, let's go home."

T
he news reports
were buzzing when Mark and I came home that evening. The bomb at the airport had gotten the attention of Homeland Security and the FBI since it happened on an airfield, and rumors were already swirling that there were things found in the warehouse that were connected to Owen Lynch. I sipped at my tea and looked at Mark. "Had you planned on that?"

"No, but I'm not surprised. Actually it's a bit of a setback," I said. "While it hurts Lynch, the problem is it takes heat out of the Confederation. We're going to have to really make sure the next one goes smooth."

Tabby came in, dressed to kill in a business suit that looked more appropriate on Sophie Warbird than Tabby Williams. Still, she filled it well. "Hey you two, you need to make your departure."

"You're right," Mark said, sighing and finishing off his own tea. He was dressed in cargo pants and a sweatshirt, and I had a moment of deja vu as I thought of the night that Mark and I had first fled the city, the clothes were so similar. "You ready?"

I nodded my head and got up. "I'm going to miss the purple hair," I said, running my fingers through it. As part of our plan to disappear, I was going to go back to my regular shade of brown while also getting a short haircut. "I kinda felt like a superhero with it."

"You did give off the Psylocke vibe," Tabby said. "By the way, you like the suit?"

"You can raid that part of my closet all you want," I said in way of reply. She did look good, and the red was perhaps even more striking than the purple I'd been rocking. "Just remember that you're not officially President of MJT until two weeks from now, so until then, just be normal Tabby."

"I know, but I figured I'd send you two off with a good feeling that things are in good hands," she said, spinning on a heel. "I know you'll be gone only a few days, but still."

Mark came over and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "We'll miss you too. Watch the fort, and you'll have us back before you know it. Just lay low, okay?"

"I will. I'm planning on my last trip to the old office tomorrow, to do final handover of my accounts to Donna. She's a good girl, and this bumps her out of the intern pool. She's going to be one to keep your eye on, she's smart as all hell." Tabby released Mark's hug and came over to me, wrapping me up as well.

I could feel her holding tight, and I clung back. "It's just a few days, sweetie. Then you get to boss me and Mark around, at least in public," I whispered in her ear, patting her back. "You're strong, and if things get scary, you know how to reach us. Just chill for three or four days, we'll be back."

Tabby nodded, then kissed me on the cheek. "Do me a favor while you're gone," she said when Mark left to go out to the garage.

"What?"

Tabby looked over her shoulder towards the door to the garage, then turned back to me with that familiar Tabby grin. "Take at least one night and rock that man's world. You both deserve it."

I couldn't help it, I laughed. Nodding, I kissed Tabby on the cheek and stepped back. "Damn right. What do you think we're going to do besides rest up during the next few days?"

"And your tummy?" Tabby asked, looking down. "Everything okay down there?"

"We'll check while we're gone. I'll tell you when we get back."

I heard the SUV that we were using start up, and I patted Tabby on the shoulder again. "Okay. See you when we get back. We'll text you when we get there."

Tabby followed me out to the garage, where Mark was already sitting behind the driver's seat. "See you in a few days," Mark said, hitting the garage door opener. "Don't eat all the ice cream."

"I won't," Tabby said with a laugh. The door rattled up, and we pulled out. Down at the street level, we could see a few paparazzi, exactly as we'd planned. Marcus Smiley's leaving town wasn't going to be front page news, but it did establish that we were leaving.

"Mr. Smiley!" one of the reporters, from the local ABC affiliate yelled.

Mark pulled through the gate and let it close behind us, then opened his window. "Yes, but only a minute. We do have to hit the road."

"Rumors are swirling that you're leaving the city permanently. Is there any truth to that?"

"Well, financially I'm always going to be here," Mark replied, pitching his voice in the Marcus Smiley persona. "You guys will get some more information on that soon. As for where Miss Warbird and I will live, well, we're exploring our options. We were thinking maybe Hawaii, maybe the West Coast, maybe overseas. But yes, we've both decided as great as this city is, it's not the place for us to get married and raise a family."

"Does that mean you two are going to tie the knot soon?" another reporter hollered. "What about kids?"

"No comment," Mark said, smirking. "But maybe you all can get some honeymoon photos. Thanks guys, you've been pretty wonderful and respectful. Take care."

Rolling up the window, we crept along until the last cameraman was clear before driving down the street and towards the highway. As Mark drove, he had a strange little smile on his face. "What?" I asked, unable to resist smiling myself. "Why are you smiling?"

"Just thinking about what that reporter asked as we were leaving," Mark said, turning and getting on the Interstate. "What about it?"

"What about what?" I said. I knew the plan at this point, we were going to head north and cross the Canadian border, then sell the car before crossing back over under our new identities. It'd be a supposed disappearing celebrity mystery, made even more weird as we had booked flights to five different international locations along with a yacht. The tickets would be used, but not by us. It was an elaborate scheme, but we hoped it would let Marcus Smiley disappear.

"Getting married. When we cross back over, we can stop off in Las Vegas, get married if you want. It'd be pushing the schedule, but I think it could work."

I grinned and nodded. "Why the hell not? Think you can charter us a plane to get us to Vegas in time?"

"Of course I can," Mark replied, giving me another smile. "But first we're going to need to get some haircuts and stuff."

"No, first we need to get to Canada."

T
he famous Las Vegas
strip was amazing, even more than all the times I'd seen it on TV. Flying in on a Lear jet, I felt giddy as I looked over at Mark. Excuse me, at Mathew Mark Bylur, originally of Phoenix, Arizona. I had laughed when he had told me what his name meant.

"Bylur is an Icelandic word, it means severe snowstorm," he told me as he handed me my new American passport. It had been brought over the border three days prior by an associate of Mark's, who then snuck back over the border after dropping it off in a train station coin locker in Toronto. "You think it works?"

"I think I'll come to adore it," I said. "I think Joanna Bylur has a certain charm to it."

After living my entire life as Sophie, first Sophie White then Sophie Warbird, I was now Joanna Smith, at least for the next two days. I'd stopped asking Mark how he was able to get such good fake identification papers, but I knew it involved hacking a lot of government databases. I'd done a search using the plane's WiFi while we flew, and I had a complete credit history, records from the University of Washington saying I graduated with a degree in sociology, as well as a Tinder account. I didn't even want to know how much it had cost.

"In any case, we'll be landing soon," Mark said, patting my knee. "Then we have to check in at the chapel, they'll have us sign the basic paperwork, and the ceremony is tomorrow."

"Did you book the one with the Elvis impersonators?" I said with a laugh.

"No, another one that actually looks a little bit classy," he said. "It's still on the strip though, and we'll be within walking distance of our hotel."

"But we're still getting married in shorts and tank tops, right?" I asked. It was my only insistence about the whole deal. I’d dreamed as a little girl about my perfect wedding and my traditional wedding dress, but now all I wanted was Mark. None of the other stuff mattered, and I wanted this to be fun.