Rory: Hope City, Book 7 by Maryann Jordan (uplifting books for women txt) 📕

Seeing the surprised looks from Colm and Sharon, she quickly added, “I know that’s not my job, but I want to make sure everything’s done the right way. I’ve been looking into Perkins Electrical, finding some interesting articles about their shady past.”

“You’re looking into it?” Colm asked, his brows raised.

Shrugging, she said, “Well, Bekki King gave me a little information, and I took it and ran with it. Probably a waste of time, but I hate the idea of shoddy work, or even faulty work, to hinder what I’ve put in to make these offices exactly what the clients need.”

“I remember Perkins very well,” Colm said.

“Dad, I never even thought about that. Of course, when you were with the FBI, you probably had to deal with some of that.” Rory shook his head and looked toward Sandy. “Dad’s career was mostly spent here in Hope City.”

“The articles I read gave some history into old-world politics and organized crime here. It was fascinating,” Sandy admitted.

Having finished his last bite, Colm leaned back in his chair, quiet for a moment as he appeared to gather his thoughts. “To understand the influence of organized crime in our city today, you have to look back at its history. The history that’s not unlike most large cities in America, especially those with major ports on the Eastern seaboard, such as New York City, Philadelphia, Norfolk. For close to two hundred years, Hope City was a major port of entry for people who crossed the Atlantic Ocean, with many deciding to stop here. New ethnic groups often had to fight for acceptance, but the great diversity of people in the cross cultures have been one of our strengths—as well as the source of a few problems. In the mid-1800s, we had a great many Irish, German, Italian, and Russian immigrants as well as others from Eastern Europe. Hope City offered many jobs in the canning factories, steel mills, and of course, the shipyards. Many neighborhoods in Hope City were divided based on where the residents came from.”

So far, what Colm had offered was basic information, but Sandy could have sat and listened to him all day. His deep, calm, and steady voice lulled her into his story, and she glanced down at her plate, glad that she was finished with the meal, knowing it would have gone cold as she listened. Rory reached over and squeezed her hand, and she sent a smile his way before turning her full attention back to Colm.

“Like any place with a mixture of people, they brought with them their great cultural heritage as well as any problems from their home country. In the mid-1800s, there were anti-Catholic riots, mostly against the German and Irish Catholics. My line of the McBrides had not come to this country until after the riots, but I remember learning about it in school and wondering what it would’ve been like during those times.

“While Hope City was never as fully run by the Italian Mafia as New York City, its presence was certainly felt. And the Russian Mafia, which had a stronghold in Philadelphia and New York City, was certainly here as well. Any port city with large docks where ships were coming from all over the world seemed to be particularly important for Mafia families. Payments, buy offs, ruling with an iron fist, controlling what comes in and goes out, smuggling… all of these activities are well suited around docks. By the time I became an FBI agent working here in Hope City, the major organized crimes were fairly typical. Drugs, prostitution, slavery, and in recent years, stealing young babies or children and selling them to wealthy people.”

The last statement brought a gasp from Sandy, and she sat up straighter. “Oh, my God!” Rory squeezed her fingers, and she looked to see Erin’s wide-eyed gaze and Sharon shaking her head sadly.

“A lot of people think the old-world connections have fallen by the wayside and that organized crime is dominated mostly by the newer drug gangs from south of our borders, such as El Salvador and Mexico. But you can’t discount the Russian Mafia influence. I didn’t work the case, but just a couple of years ago, almost thirty members of the Russian Mafia were arrested and charged with extortion, racketeering, illegal gambling, firearm offenses, narcotics trafficking, wire fraud, credit card fraud, identity theft, using electronic hacking devices, and even murder for hire.”

By this time, Sandy’s head was ready to explode. “I confess to having done some digging into this, but somehow, hearing it from you makes it all seem more real. And scarier.”

“Whatever you’re looking at, you need to be very careful. If you have information, you need to turn it over to the authorities and not go digging yourself.” Colm’s unsmiling expression held hers, and she swallowed deeply.

“Sandy—”

She jerked her head to the side. “Rory, don’t start. I’m not investigating. Honestly. I was just checking in to what was happening with Perkins Electrical.”

“Perkins Electrical.” Colm nodded, his mouth pursed as though tasting something sour.

“Sweetheart, let’s clear the table and take dessert to the den. If we’re going to have this serious conversation, we should get comfortable.” Sharon patted his arm and stood, joined by the others as they made quick work of taking the empty plates to the sink to rinse before putting them in the dishwasher.

Sharon cut slices of cherry pie while Erin made a pot of coffee. Once the gathering was settled in the deep-cushioned chairs and sofa of the den, Sandy turned her attention back to Colm. “Bekki was able to tell me that the original owner of Perkins Electrical was a man named Feodore Petrov, a dock worker. He did electricity work on the docks. I wasn’t able to find much on him, but I know that his family became successful and there were questions about his dealings with the local politicians.”

Colm nodded. “When the case against Perkins Electrical broke, most of