The World in Reverse Page 6

  Twist sucked in a dramatic breath and put his hands on his cheeks. “What to do? What to do? First you come in here with a favor and then it turns more into a rape,” he said, taking a crystal tumbler stacked up on the side of the bar and turning it over. He poured himself a hefty helping of Gentleman’s Jack and knocked it back. Slamming the glass on the bar, he smacked his lips. “Damn, that hit the spot. I gotta tell you, Agosto, you have the worst timing in the world.”

  “It’s my collar, Twist. You give me something. I give you something. We both win.” Nicola waited.

  “I want Amherst’s head on a plate. He’s talking to my suppliers, fucking with my money flow. Can you do something about that?”

  “You’re really asking me to lean heavy on another drug dealer for you? Come on, man. You know I don’t do that shit. Hell, this is not my style. Coming to you is like…making a deal with a devil.”

  “Better the devil you know,” Twist said in a huff.

  “This really isn’t a good time.”

  “When is it a good time? At least you won’t have me on your back. You can do what you do…for the moment,” Nicola said with warning. “This offer is only good for as long as I’m in this house. When I leave, I come back with an army.”

  Twist wiggled his fingers like he had just figured Nicola out. “What if I do help you find this guy and then you just bust me next week?”

  “I’ll give you a month head start to change shit around after I bust this guy before I even look your way.”

  “Two months,” Twist negotiated.

  “A month and a half, and that’s a lot for me. You know it.” And Nicola wasn’t lying. It was more than he had ever offered in his life.

  Twist scratched his chin. Nicola Agosto was a good ally to have - the best. He never bent for anyone, which meant that he wanted the kid killer bad. “Alright. I’ll help you find this fucker. I’ll get my guys together, find out who has been selling to your mystery boy and then get back to you. But you fucking owe me. And I won’t let you forget it.”

  “You have my word. Now, I need it quick,” Nicola urged.

  “I know. I see the news every damn day,” Twist said. “When are you going to get me the profile so that I can tell them what we’re looking for?”

  Pulling out a red metallic jump drive, Nicola slid it over to Twist. “I don’t have time to waste. Kids are dying. Everything you need is on there.”

  Twist took the jump drive and slid it down into his pocket. “Give me until tomorrow afternoon at most. I’ll have something for you.”

  “Thank you,” Nicola said, pushing the words out. For that kind of favor, he could be polite.

  6

  The Agosto house was alive by nightfall when Nicola pulled up after a long day from home. He and Johnson had followed up on a few more leads regarding the case, took some statements, took more photos and studied everything that they had in the war room to try to come up with more clues. The day had been exhausting, and essentially they knew that they were depending on a drug dealer to point them to the killer, which meant it had also been emasculating for Nicola.

  All the lights throughout the entire three-story bricked, colonial were on, including the porch lights and floodlights that illuminated the large mansion from the street. For some reason, Nicola immediately thought of his utility bill and how his children were hitting him in the pocket every time they flipped a light on - especially since they never turned a light off.

  The family dog, Meko, barked in the backyard as an ambulance passed a few streets over, and wind rustled through the shuddered windows as it brought with it dark clouds that covered the full moon.

  It was a peaceful night. No kids were found dead today and no horrible media stories had broken about the investigation. God was giving him a break.

  He walked inside gratefully, inhaling all the wonderful scents that made his house smell like a home - cinnamon, spice, baked goodies and happiness. Every day, he waited to walk through his door and smell that exact fragrance. Every day, he could not wait to see his family. Every single day, they did not disappoint. They were always there for him, always ready to receive him with open arms. He needed it tonight.

  Kicking his boots off at the front door, he threw his jacket up on the hook behind the door and walked quietly down the corridor, listening to the multiple high soprano giggles come from the TV room.

  The kids were lined up on the sofa watching television and eating popcorn in the dimly lit room, completely oblivious to their surroundings, while Ivy sat at the large wooden desk in the corner nook reading an email on her laptop and eating nachos out of a bowl. She had on her headphones to drown out the sound of children, something Nicola could never do in the house while he was babysitting. He was too paranoid.

  Stealthily, he leaned against the door and watched them as they went about their business - safe from everything that was outside of these walls. His oldest boy slapped his twin brother in the head and called him a booger right before the youngest of his sons told everyone to smell his feet. They were all boy - gross and untrained.

  He cherished all four of his sons - every single one of their many idiosyncrasies.

  He found their chatter to be soothing and their problems to be a break from the real world. All four of his children adored him, praising him constantly and always looking to him for answers. It made him feel needed in a different way than people needed him on his job. His children needed him to help them survive, to grow and become catalysts of change in their community - world shakers.

  And his Ivy…

  Words were not enough to express how much he loved his wife. Each and every year they fell deeper and deeper in love, despite the arguments, the sofa deployments, the rolling eyes and snide remarks. That was just a part of marriage, ask any old person. But his wife was his shelter and his foundation. She kept him grounded.

  Her voice cracked across the room like lightning. “Turn that TV down. I can hear it above these dang earphones!” Ivy screamed, pulling an ear bud from her ear.

  “It’s Madison’s fault!” Adam screamed.

  “No, it’s not!” Madison argued, slapping his brother in the ear. “It’s your fault.”

  “Enough hitting! If one of you hit each other ONE MORE TIME, then I’m going to start paddling people’s asses!” Her voice was harsher now, full mommy-mode.

  Nicola snickered to himself at Ivy’s feeble attempt. She tried to be so tough. It only made her softer.

  She caught a glimpse of her husband’s large shadow in the corner and stood up. “Nicky?” Suddenly, her voice was a mix of excitement and surprise.

  “Yeah, baby,” Nicola said, stepping inside the door. He winked at her. “Paddling asses?” He laughed. “Since when do you paddle anything?”

  “Daddy!” the kids sang, turning around on the back of the sofa to look at him. All four sets of eyes burned through him, looking for treats.

  “Did you bring us anything?” Madison asked.

  “Forgot. I’ll fix you a treat with dinner,” Nicola said, slapping his pockets.

  “What are you doing over there?” Ivy asked, walking over to him.

  “Just checking you guys out,” he said, pulling her to him. He noticed that she was glowing - her skin was radiating like the sun was right under the surface.

  She hugged him tight. “You made it.”

  “I told you I’d be here to cook dinner,” he said, nuzzling his nose into her hair. “I try to never break a promise.”

  “Try is the operative word,” she said, looking up at him as she held on to his waist and weaving her fingers around his gun. “Now that you’re here, I’m going upstairs and run a hot bath.”

  “Can I get in?” he growled into her ear.

  “Nope. Mommy needs some me time,” she said, stepping away. “Kids. He’s all yours.” Patting him on the back, she disappeared down the hall.

  ***

  Two hours later, two sets of little kids ran up and down the front staircase ch
asing each other and screaming, while SpongeBob played in the den.

  Madison and Adam, the oldest twin boys, led the gang, followed by Michael and David, the three-year old twin boys, who worked hard to keep up with their older siblings.

  Pleased with the racket, Nicola cooked a large pot of spaghetti in the kitchen as he watched the news, and Ivy counted socks in the adjoining TV room, coupling them together every time that she found a match.

  “FYI. This is not how I want to spend my anniversary,” she said sarcastically as she heard one of the kids scream again. “So, despite this case, you had better be planning something great. You have a little over six weeks to reserve hotels and first-class tickets, buy me an awesome piece of jewelry…you know a diamond-esque anniversary gift and…”

  “Wait. How do you know that I haven’t already done that?” he asked with a serious face.

  Ivy turned her lips up in a smirk. “Because I’ve been married to you for six years.”

  “And?” Nicola said with a frown. “Every year I do something amazing.”

  She said his name slowly, over enunciating every syllable. “Ni-co-la…you know I love you, but your anniversary gifts always suck.”

  “Baby!” Nicola said applauded. “How can you…” He shook his head as if he could not process her words. “The massage thing that I bought you with the prongs to work your deep tissue…”

  “A dildo,” she said throwing down a pair of socks into one of the kids’ baskets. She rolled her eyes at him.

  “That was not a dildo. I bought that thing at the mall by one of those massage chair things. And what about the Dead Sea bath salt big basket bullshit I bought you that one year…” he argued.

  Ivy cut him off. “That shit broke me out. I had to go to a dermatologist, Nicky, remember? It changed my complexion forever.”

  Nicola snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “The diamond tennis bracelet.”

  “You got me pregnant right after that.”

  “But you liked the tennis bracelet, right?”

  Ivy shook her head. “Plan something nice, Nicky. I’m not playing. I deserve it.”

  “What? This is great,” he said, adding sage to his special sauce. He tasted the spoon and smiled, revealing deep dimples in his well-tanned face. “We’re all going to sit down like a family and have dinner and...” He looked down at the red sauce as it splattered on his apron. Rubbing his finger against the stain, he slipped his finger in his mouth. “Finger-licking good.” He smiled at Ivy.

  His boyish charms still made her heart skip a beat, but over time, she had learned to hide it.

  “You know you still like what I do with my fingers, girl,” he joked. “And my tongue for that matter. The other night I almost lost consciousness in that leg-lock, death grip you put me.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she chuckled.

  “Oh, you don’t know what I’m talking about. I damned near saw stars when you let go of me. You practically smashed my entire head.”

  Ivy laughed this time, recalling the encounter.

  She looked up from her pile of laundry and gave a cool smile. “You’re in a lot better mood now, huh? Since you came clean about your investigation. The few days before that you were edgy.” She observed as she placed a large bundle of folded clothes in a clean hamper to haul upstairs later.

  Nicola raised his brow while he dumped more oregano in his sauce. “I’m always in a better mood when I’m with you guys,” he said, stirring the food. He looked at her for a moment with a half-smile, his large, brown eyes sparkled with phony calm, but Ivy could see his pain. She stood up from her chores and walked over to the counter. Leaning against it, she reached her hand out and touched her husband’s face.

  “Want to talk about it?” she asked. Her voice was low and soothing, as normal.

  “What? Talk about what?” He took his eyes off her and focused on the spaghetti.

  There was a slight hint of frustration in her voice when she realized that he was going to try to avoid any resemblance of a discussion about his work. “Talk about today?” she continued. “About yesterday? About any of it? This can’t be easy. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and it’s the only way you’re going to survive this case.”

  He stopped stirring his food and looked up. His long eyelashes flapped like wings. “No, baby, I don’t want to talk about it.” His face was like stone now. Shutting down immediately, he turned his back to her again, putting up his invisible yet fully recognizable wall.

  But Ivy continued, only in a softer voice to convince him into sharing. “Well, you need to talk to someone. It’s not healthy. You’re going to...”

  “Going to what?” he interrupted. He turned back to her with narrowed eyes. He thought that she was going to say fail - going to say what he feared the most. He watched her mouth as the words formed on her lips.

  “Explode.” She lowered her voice and looked around to make sure that the children didn’t hear her. She lifted her eyes and nodded. “You’re going to explode, Nicola, if you don’t talk to someone.” She bit her lip.

  Nicola turned off the stove, the knob clicking with his rough handling of it, and pulled off his apron. Setting it on the table, he walked over to her and pulled her into his arms. “Listen to me. I don’t bring my work home. That’s the one thing that I’ve learned not to do - especially after that shit that happened out in West Wood.”

  Ivy shook her head emphatically. “Some things are easy to separate, Nicky. When it was drugs, guns, prostitutes, you could separate it. But it’s children now...like the four you have in there,” she motioned towards the loud noise coming from the stairs. “There is no separation, and you and I both know that. You’re a father first, no different than the rest of the fathers out there. You’re not thinking like a cop…I know you.”

  “Even if I did want to talk to someone, if I spoke to the shrink at the station this early in the case, they may pull me off the case completely,” he said, rubbing her arms. “I’m too close to just get yanked, Ivy. I’m so close. I’ve got a viable lead just dangling. I’ve damned near offered my soul to get it.” His voice pleaded for her understanding and his eyes were intense with the passion that she’d seen on a hundred other cases.

  It was confirmed. Nicola was all in.

  She took his face in her hands, cupping his chin in her palms. His big brown eyes gazed at her, seeking approval.

  After a moment of staring at him, pondering to herself, she nodded. “Then talk to my shrink.”

  “There you go with that shit again,” he shook his head. That wasn’t the response he was looking for. He quickly changed the conversation, knowing that it was easy to get her off track. “And why do you need a shrink? You have everything a woman could ask for.”

  “I do,” she agreed with a certain amount of sarcasm in her voice. “I have a wonderful husband, who enjoys playing cowboy in the most crime infested city in the country. I have a job that at times drives me crazy, especially since I’m so close to making partner. I have four kids. Four. And I’ve just turned thirty.”

  Nicola waited. His intuition told him that there was something else that she wasn’t saying - something to add to that already long list. But for some reason, she had stopped there.

  “Okay, maybe you do need a shrink,” he said as they both laughed, “but...baby, I can’t go to your man-hating, man-eating, psycho babbling, women’s lib...”

  Ivy interrupted him. “She’s great. I tell you what. I’ll make you an appointment myself. You can talk to her and get some of this off your chest before you explode and do something crazy.” Her warm smile reassured him.

  Nicola pulled her closer. “Something crazy?” He ran his hands down her back and grabbed her buttocks. Biting his lip, he picked her up off the ground and forced her to wrap her legs around him. “Something crazy like...take you on the floor right here?” He slapped her backside and growled. It was amazing how quickly she could turn him on. “You know how horny I g
et when you wear that Steeler’s t-shirt with no bra on under it. His deft fingers grazed over her pebbled nipples as he bit his lip.

  She laughed and tried to keep him from pulling up her shirt. “Nicky! You better not! The kids...what about the kids?” She laughed infectiously. “I keep telling you that you can’t do that kind of stuff in front of the little babies!”

  He pinned Ivy against the wall and held her in his arms. Burying his head on her chest, he inhaled her perfume and sighed. “Shit. I forgot about all those damned kids.” He rubbed his hands against her jeans and felt an erection growing.

  “Look at what you’re doing to me,” he said, trying to make her feel guilty.

  “Oh, you poor baby.” She ran her hands through his curly locks and kissed him quickly. The feeling was mutual but would have to be hampered for now. “Kids! Come down! Dinner’s ready!” she screamed in his ear.

  “Ouch, my ear,” he said, deafened by her long-range, outdoor mommy voice.

  Sliding down from his embrace, she patted him on the back and giggled. “We’ll pick this conversation up later, chief.”

  “That’s right,” he said watching her walk away. “Put daddy’s shit on the back burner.”

  “Daddy’s stuff is always X-rated, “she said, turning back to look at him. She flashed her bedroom eyes.

  “And that’s fair, how?” he asked, pushing down on his crotch to adjust his growing manhood.

  She laughed.

  Nicola rolled his eyes. “Yeah, keep laughing. I’ll pull you into the broom closet and get you pregnant,” he shouted after her. “It’ll take me like four minutes, five tops.” Throwing up his hands at her, he went back to his spaghetti.

  Ivy bit her lip and paused. She watched him while he worked on his food. Her voice was lower now. “You’ve already gotten me pregnant,” she said, walking back into the kitchen. The kids ran past her to the dinner table.

  Nicola turned his head. “Come again”. His eyes bucked.

  Ivy pushed the smaller boys up to the table and looked over at him. “I was looking for the right time to tell you.”