The Boss's Love (34 page)

             
Tossing his shirt onto the corner chair, he dropped his pants to the floor, revealing a pair of black boxer briefs that caressed his mouthwatering tight ass. He fluidly slid into his lounge pants and pulled off his socks. Even his feet were attractive.

             
  When finished, he crawled into bed. She curled herself into his body and laid her head on his solid, bare chest. He situated them together and engulfed is arm around her. Simultaneously they sighed. 

             
"I promise I'll never leave your side in middle of the night, Courtney," he whispered to her after a while. 

             
That vow shocked her to her core. The meaning wasn't lost on her. Darren had frequently left her late at night for business deals or whatever else he dealt with. He would slip out when she was sound asleep. Eventually, when her body missed his warmth, she'd always wake up alone. She never confessed that to Darren. She refused to make him worry while his attention needed to be on the task at hand. What Derrick just promised her was something that Darren never had, could or would. Derrick promised to place her above business. He vowed to never leave his wife alone in their bed at night. Her heart felt like it was caving inside of her chest.  

             
Courtney slid her arm underneath his naked waist and pulled herself flush against his body. A silent, grateful tear fell onto his chest. She had no words.  

Derrick

             
Mary, a mid-fifties Italian woman, widowed with grown children was hired to cook and clean for Derrick's wife and soon-to-be-born child. After she cleared the vetting process by Jack and Carl, and Mary accepted the position, the two men explained policies and procedures. She was to answer only to Derrick, and informed her of Courtney's health concerns during her pregnancy. She'd been offered a room to live at the Murphy home but she'd respectively refused.

             
Mary had taken to Courtney like a mother hen. She constantly fussed shoved food at her boss's wife. Mary voiced her concerns to Derrick that his wife hardly touched her meals. 

             
Meanwhile, Derrick, Jack, and Carl continued their hunt for Darren's killer, using all connections to put their ear to the ground, but consistently came up empty. They stood around the kitchen discussing their next move while Derrick eyed Courtney wander around the back deck, taking in the cool fall breeze. His poor wife complained of hot flashes during these final weeks of her pregnancy.  

             
"Derrick, we've drained all of our resources. This wasn't an inside job," Jack said. 

             
"How is that possible?" Derrick barked. He didn't buy it. That car explosion had to have been an inside job. Someone in the Murphy organization or a rival trying to maneuver himself into Darren's position.

             
"We don't know," Carl answered. "We have questioned, gone after, tailed, bugged, done everything in our power. There are no murmurs, whispers, rumors,
nothing
. It's not an inside job." Carl glanced at Jack who gave him a short, tight nod. "Derrick, this wasn’t business." 

             
In other words, it was personal. 

             
Unable to grasp that his brother's murder wasn't an inside job, his gaze bounced back and forth between Jack and Carl. But it was a scenario that made sense. He trusted Jack and Carl's thoroughness with their investigation. They were as invested in finding Darren’s murderer as Derrick was.  

             
"Who knew Darren and Courtney were going shopping alone?" Derrick asked.

             
Jack shrugged. "I knew. Carl knew. He was there when Darren said I wasn't needed." 

             
"Who else was in the house that day?" 

             
Derrick watched Courtney wave and smile to someone who must have entered the backyard.

Who the hell
was here?
 

             
"Tony, the bartender," Carl said. "He had to stop by and get a check off Carl for liquor for the bar."  

             
"Liz," Jack said. "Tony's girlfriend. She's not the brightest bulb in the box."   

             
"Butch," Carl said. Butch, their runner of product, cash, equipment, cars, anything that needed delivered.

             
"Trent," Jack said. 

             
Trent. The new guy. For eight months he worked for Darren, recommended by Tony, but only because the kid frequented the bar. And touted about his superior work ethic for the families he previously worked. Derrick hadn't done a background check. 

             
"Who did his check?" Derrick snarled, a sudden clarity falling into place. Derrick watched Courtney walk down the back deck steps towards the backyard. 

             
"Darren had said he was going to get you to do it,” Carl said.

             
"He didn't." 

             
Jack and Carl slid each other a quick glance.

             
"It was around the time he was trying to get Courtney back home and fix their marriage," Jack said thoughtful. 

             
"Darren wouldn't allow that to slip through the cracks," Derrick scoffed.
Would he?
he thought to himself. Darren had been proficient when it came to his men. Relentless in making sure they cleared their background checks. Only the best of the best were allowed to work in the family. 

             
"Whose family did he say he worked for?" Derrick asked.

             
"The Valinti's and the Spallone's,” Carl answered. 

             
"Get them on the phone," Derrick ordered. Where the hell did Courtney go off to? He stalked outside. 

             
When Derrick stepped onto the deck, his heart jumped up into his throat. Courtney stood in the backyard having animated conversation with Trent, who nodded in agreement at whatever she was saying. Derrick marched down the steps and straight up to his wife, approaching her from behind.  

             
"Mr. Murphy." Trent nodded respectfully.  

             
"Trent," Derrick replied icily.

             
"Derrick, I was just telling Trent we need a fence around the pool because of the baby. I want one put up immediately. By the time it gets warm out, the baby could be walking and it's too dangerous," Courtney said, her eyes shined with concern.   

             
"I agree." He wrapped a secure arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you thought of it before the weather becomes too cold." He narrowed his eyes towards Trent, giving him a once over. He watched the kid take an instinctual step back. "Get on this right away, Trent. I'm putting you in charge of the project." Derrick lived by the motto of keeping his enemies close enough to kill on the spot. As far as he was concerned, Trent was potentially enemy number one. 
  

             
"Yes, Mr. Murphy," Trent answered, beaming with excitement.   

             
"Come, Court. Mary's making dinner," Derrick said, ending the conversation. He did not want his wife around the kid. 

             
She nodded and rubbed her belly. "I am hungry." 

             
"Good girl," he said. Maybe she'd finally eat something.  

             
"Thank you, Trent," Courtney said and went back into the house with Derrick. 

             
Derrick wasn't sure if he wanted to address his suspicions regarding Trent with Courtney yet. He decided to wait and see what Jack and Carl dug up. But the rest of his staff would be warned to keep a close eye on the kid.  

***

              Two weeks ago Derrick had set up the meeting with Jon Spallone. Jack and Carl had wanted to make Trent "disappear," but Derrick wanted more information about the kid trying to play with the big dogs. He wanted and needed proof. He wanted proof so he had reason to keep Trent tied naked to a chair for a couple of weeks, begging for his very life and admit to murdering his brother. He'd be unsatisfied until he had what he wanted‒someone answering for Darren's death. 

             
Sauntering into the restaurant, Jon Spallone surrounded himself with three large goons. Derrick snorted.
Goodfellas
admirer or what? Slicked back black hair, loud three-piece suit, shined up shoes, and his men flanking him. Ridiculous. 

             
"Mr. Murphy!" Jon Spallone said with gusto. 

             
Jon was one of those Murphy men who had relished in Darren's attention, the rare times he received it.

             
Derrick stood and shook Jon's hand. "Spallone." He motioned to the empty seat across from him. "Sit." 

             
"Thank you," Jon said gratefully. The excitement radiating off him was overwhelming.

             
It annoyed Derrick.

             
He motioned for the waitress to order their drinks. Jack and Carl positioned themselves at the bar, closer than they appeared.  

             
"So what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Murphy?" Jon asked. 

             
"I need to know about an old employee of yours, Trent,” Derrick said. He took a seemingly nonchalant sip of the red wine the server placed in front of him. 

             
"Ah, yes, young Trent," Jon said, following Derrick's lead by taking a gulp of his whiskey on the rocks. "A driven, yet reckless young lad." 

             
Derrick didn't respond. He didn't need to with Jon, who elaborated without any encouragement. The man loved his gossip. He was terrible at keeping a secret but somehow he knew everyone's skeleton filled closets.

             
"Trent’s a good kid. Works hard and will do whatever’s asked of him, but he’s ambitious. Too ambitious. He would stray from his duties for me and for a price take orders from others, whoever he thought could bring him closer to the top." Jon smirked. "Closer to your brother." 

             
"It worked." 

             
"Did it now?" Jon drawled. "Well, credit to Trent. He deserves recognition for his ambition." Jack held up his drink in a toast. 

             
"When you say he would take orders at a price, what exactly do you mean?" Derrick asked, wanting to be clear. 

             
"Money of course. He wanted money. The kid could be bought. He figured money got him to the top. In some cases it would, but we know with you Murphy men that's not the case. It's loyalty and the ability to remain low key," Jon stated expertly.  

             
"Loyalty is a must," Derrick tossed him a bone.

             
"Of course," Jon insisted. "You can't be in our position without loyalty." Jon threw back the rest of his drink then waved to the waitress to bring him another. He turned back to Derrick. "I suppose then that Trent has grown up." 

             
Derrick thoughtfully tried to spin the information. He took another sip of wine. "I haven't worked with him. He's new and my brother was the one who'd brought him on. My wife is the one who has had more one-on-one contact with him." 

             
Derrick watched Jon's face drain of color. 

             
"Derrick," Jon whispered, using Derrick's first name. "Keep him away from Courtney." 

             
"Why?" Derrick demanded. What the hell did Jon Spallone know? 

             
"There should be no reason for him to be around your wife. If he is, then it's no good. The kid is a climber. The two people he should be dealing with are Jack and Carl. Are you using him for your wife's entertainment?" Jon asked, horrified.  

             
"Absolutely not," Derrick snarled. 

             
"Who's with her now?" Jon asked concerned. 

             
"Don't worry about it. That's my business," he snapped. His wife was with Ryan at a doctor's appointment. 

             
"Mr...Derrick.” Jon leaned on the table. His forehead developed a sheen of sweat. "I'm going to tell you this because I think you should know. It was kept secret so no one would be embarrassed when it had happened, but with Trent working his way close to Mrs. Murphy, you must know‒" 

             
"Damn it, Jon, just tell me what the hell you know. This is my
wife,
" Derrick pounded the table, raising his menacingly dark and dangerous voice.