“You enjoyed the hell out of holding me to the fire, didn’t you?” Andrew said quietly. “Making me feel like scum for what I did to protect my mother. Maybe I did do something unforgivable, but my father was the furthest thing from innocent.” A beat passed. “Not like those tourists you executed in the Castle Gate, right?”
Emotion bled from Handler’s face until he was nothing more than a husk staring back at them. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Need a memory jog?” Rory asked, holding up his phone and hitting play on the surveillance video from the night of the shooting.
It was almost eerie how little reaction Handler showed to the footage, apart from the quick breaths he took through his nose, his lips in a tight line. “That son of a bitch.”
“Yeah,” Rory said. “He was.”
“But a resourceful one,” Jamie added. “He loved to hedge his bets.”
“He told me the cameras weren’t working,” Handler said almost to himself. “The place was a fucking dive, you—”
“The kind of place you’d purposely not record, right? So there wouldn’t be evidence of the fights and drug use and affairs.” Andrew shrugged. “None of us were close to our father, but if I had to guess, I’d say that’s exactly why he had the cameras. He collected dirt, in case he needed to use it against someone.”
“Now you’re using it against me,” Handler spat.
“Not unless we need to.” Andrew leveled him with a look. “Three copies of this video are in a safety deposit box. We retained a lawyer this afternoon and he now has instructions for what to do with the footage if I’m ever arrested. Or if anyone in my family—and I’m including the Dalals—is arrested or subjected to any kind of harm, physical or professional. That means none of your bullshit intimidation tactics or bogus health code violations. That means staying the fuck away from all of us. If you don’t, one copy of this video goes to the media, another to this precinct and the final one will be sent to your family.”
Handler’s expression had been murderous until that last part when he flinched. It was subtle, but Andrew caught it. Jamie was the one who’d searched online until he found a rarely used Facebook profile for Handler. From there, he was able to piece together that the man had a wife and two grown daughters in college.
“You could still pursue my father’s disappearance. You could try and bring me down,” Andrew said in a low voice, stepping closer to Handler. “But you’ll never find the final piece of evidence you’d need to convict me. I’ve got mine right here and it’s damning as hell. So what’s it going to be? I don’t care if you run your side business as long as I’m left out of it—”
“You think it’s easy having two kids in college on my salary?” Handler cut in. “Save your fucking judgment.”
“Like he said,” Rory piped up. “We don’t care. Just find someone else to run your errands. Andrew is done.”
Handler was silent a moment, his attention straying to Rory’s phone. “I thought he had a gun.”
“Yeah?” Jamie asked, a fine edge of irritation in his voice. “What’s your excuse for the second guy?”
The cop didn’t speak for several seconds. “How can I be sure that video never surfaces?”
“Our word will have to be good enough.” Sensing they’d won, Andrew jerked his chin at his brothers and started to skirt past Handler, but he changed his mind when he remembered Handler had gone to Spice, sat in Jiya’s presence, just to intimidate him. Andrew grabbed Handler by the collar and jerked him close. “Listen to me, motherfucker. You ever—ever—go near my girl again, the video will be the last thing you have to worry about.” He breathed in and out, chest shuddering. “Are we done here? Do we have a fucking deal or not?”
“Yeah,” Handler gritted out. “We have a deal. You’re out. Don’t release the footage and you won’t hear from me again. Happy?”
The final weight lifted off Andrew’s shoulders and he shoved the cop away.
Minutes later, when they watched Handler drive out the precinct parking lot and out of sight, Jamie and Rory pulled Andrew into a silent hug. At least it was silent until Marcus threw his giant gorilla arms around them all and asked if they could get tacos.
Tacos would have to wait, though.
Andrew had a ring to buy.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
You could hear a pin drop at the Dalal family kitchen table. Whereas their meal with the Chauhans had been a jovial affair, the atmosphere as they ate dinner tonight would have been more appropriate at a wake. Her mother had gone for full-scale drama by forgoing cooking and ordering takeout, instead, something she’d only done twice in Jiya’s lifetime.