Laid and Leveraged (19 page)

About
to
get
in,
the
driver
snatched
her
purse
from
her.

“
Hey!
”
she
yelled.
He
didn't
answer
but
just
rummaged
through
the
bag
before
withdrawing
her
phone.
The
burly
man
flipped
it
over
and
pulled
out
the
battery
before
tossing
it
back
into
the
bag
and
returning it to her
.
             

Michelle
swallowed
hard.
She
got
in
and
the
door
slammed
behind
her
with
an
ominous
thud.
Michelle
heard
the
sound
of
the
automatic
locks
clicking
into
place.
She
felt
for
the
handle
and
found
to
her
growing
concern
that
she
couldn't
open
it
from
within.
She
glanced
around
the
interior.
This
time
there
was
no
bottle
of
champagne
awaiting
her.
Oh
dear
Lord!
Roger
was
going
to
have
her
put
in
cement
shoes
and
dumped
in
the
river!
Michelle
felt
her
heart
stop
at
the
thought.
The
engine
revved
up
and
the
limo
lurched
forward.

“
Where
are
we
going?
”
she
ventured
to
ask
the
driver
when
they'd
been
on
the
road
for
a
while.
The
driver
ignored
her,
making
Michelle
all
the
more
uneasy.
She
chewed
on
her
thumbnail
while
she
surveyed
the
passing
landscape
out
the
window.
They
left
the
city
and
turned
down
a
country
road.
The
road
wound
its
way
up
a
twisting
path
toward
the
top
of
a
big
hill.

Well,
Michelle
thought.
At
least
I'm
not
going
to
drown.
More
like
an
unmarked
burial
in
the
woods
then.
The
limo
came
to
a
stop
in
front
of
quaint,
two-story
building.
The
building
appeared
occupied
and
Michelle
was
just
beginning
to
wonder
who
all
was
in
on
her
assassination
attempt.
Should
she
run
inside
screaming
that
she'd
been
kidnapped?
The
driver
opened
the
door
and
handed
her
back
her
cell
phone
battery.

“
There's
no
service
up
here
anyway,
”
the
big
man
smirked.
He
pointed
to
the
building's
entrance.
“
Go
straight
to
the
back
and
then
hang
a
left.
”

A
sign
on
the
door
read
Antonucci's
.
The
wonderful
aroma
of
Italian
cooking
coming
from
within
was
a
sure
fire
indication
that
the
place
was
a
restaurant.
Michelle
was
about
to
open
the
door,
when
it
swung
open
for
her.
A
swarthy,
dark
haired
man
smiled
at
her.

“
Welcome
to
Antonucci's,
”
he
said
with
a
thick
Italian
accent.

Despite
the
friendly
welcome,
Michelle's
pulse
quickened.
Maybe
Roger
really
was
part
of
the
mafia,
the
Italian
mafia.
She
took
a
deep
breath
and
headed
inside.
She
found
Roger
at
a
small
table
in
the
back
in
the
direction
the
driver
indicated.
Wine
had
already
been
poured
for
them
and
when
Michelle
took
a
seat,
she
realized
they
had
a
breathtaking
view
of
the
entire
city.

“
So
good
of
you
to
join
me,
Michelle,
”
Roger
broke
their
silence.
She
couldn't
read
him.
Was
he
still
planning
on
killing
her?

“
Are
you
Italian?
”
she
couldn't
refrain
from
asking.

“
My
mother
was,
”
he
replied
easily,
taking
a
sip
from
the
blood
red
wine.
“
In
fact
this
restaurant
is
owned
by
my
uncle.
”

A
server
came
and
dropped
off
two
plates
of
veal
marsala.

“
Have
you
brought
me
here
to
off
me?
”
She
no
longer
found
Becky's
earlier
warning
melodramatic.
Roger
chuckled.
He
picked
up
a
butter
knife
and
carved
into
the
meat.
It
fell
apart
with
just
the
tiniest
of
pressure.

“
Don't
be
absurd,
Michelle,
”
he
said
before
putting
a
forkful
into
his
mouth.

If
he
wasn't
planning
on
killing
her
then
why
the
rough
treatment?

“
I
just
thought...well
you're
limo
driver
seemed
a
little-
”

Roger
broke
into
laughter.

“
Oh,
I'm
sorry,
Michelle,
”
he
wiped
at
the
corners
of
his
mouth
with
his
napkin.
“
That
was
Bruno.
Harry,
my
regular
driver,
has
the
flu.
Bruno
is
actually
my
uncle's
driver
on
loan.
He's
a
little
rough
around
the
edges.
”
Roger
shrugged
his
shoulders
as
if
to
say
'what
can
you
do?'.

“
I
prefer
not
to
know
about
my
uncle's
other
ventures
outside
the
restaurant
business.
”
He
looked
back
at
her
again.
“
But
no.
Rest
assure
I
have
no
interest
in
hurting
you,
Michelle.
Now
please,
eat
your
food.
It's
getting
cold.
”