The Good Daughter (8 page)

“
Poca importa
? What does it matter?” Sandro gestured with his hand. “She is a prisoner now.”

“
It might help to know her mindset. I want to know what you told her and see if I can decide how she is going to react to being a prisoner. If she has even the slightest inkling you are in danger, she’s liable to do something crazy.”

“
In spite of what Marisa said earlier, she has no, what you call it . . . inkling.”

“
You can be so sure?”

“
Si
.”

“
What did you tell her?” Dave persisted.

A silence, then, “To go back home to Dallas.”

“
Just like that? I know better. She would have never gone without a good reason. What made you think she would rush back home to Dallas?” Dave was fighting an increasing urge to throttle Nia’s husband. Nothing new about the urge. Dave had wanted to throttle Sandro the moment he swept Nia off to Italy and married her.

Sandro exhaled, then finally answered. “I told her I was leaving her for Marisa.”

“
Jesus!” The word exploded from Dave’s mouth. “Well, no need to worry about her looking for you. Unless she didn’t believe you.”

“
She believed me. I . . .” Sandro looked at Marisa, “was very convincing.”

Dave ached for what Nia must have suffered thinking the man she loved so much had betrayed her with another woman.

“
Still,” Sandro went on, “even if what Marisa says is true, that Carlo will not hurt her, if he doesn’t release her soon, she will try to escape to get to Daniele. She thinks I have left her, and there will be no parent for him. She is fiercely protective of our son.”

Dave saw a man living with an enormous amount of pain, guilt... and no doubt incredible fear for his loved ones. Damn, this was a mess. He pulled his mind back to focus. “First, we need to find Nia,” Dave said. “Bringing Carlo down can wait. When we get her, all of you will have to go into the witness security program.”

“
No. I must get Carlo.”

“
We
will
get him. It’s going to take more time now. Until then you have to stay out of sight.” Dave tried to be persuasive.

“
No. There is another way. Marisa and I are working on other plans.”

Dave looked at Marisa. “You’re still willing to help, knowing attempted murder--make that a likely murder if something goes wrong--will be involved? You found out today how hard it is to make everything go right.”

“
Murder has been a reality my whole life. This is not like the old days where the women were sheltered from the business. I even know of two women in
Napoli--
grandmothers, both of them--who ran their own families when their men went to jail.”

“
What of your own life?” Dave asked her. “You’re taking a great risk. For now, they believe you’re part of them, but what if they find out you’re helping us?”

“
I want out.”

Dave had heard enough in the past weeks to know Marisa was speaking of her father’s crime family and not any possible set-up they might devise in the next few days. He still didn’t understand her reasoning, didn’t totally trust her, but he was smart enough to work with what was offered. Catching Carlo Peruzzo would be one step further up closer to Dave’s father’s hallowed reputation.

A grim look covered Marisa’s face. “If I must die, I have no one to mourn me. Sandro is the one with all to lose.”

Dave thought it sad Marisa believed no one would mourn her. But he understood. Sometimes it felt like he stood all alone himself, fighting criminals, managing to put a few in jail, only to have more spring up to take their place. It was an isolating job, a lonely life.

He imagined Marisa probably felt alone as well, surrounded by a family of criminals, trapped, looking for a way out.

He and Marisa could no doubt have a long, meaningful conversation about the many different ways of isolation and loneliness, over a glass of wine, with soft candles glowing on a table--

Whoa, where was all this sentimental crap coming from? Now wasn’t the time to get hung up on a romantic fantasy. She’d probably have a nice little stiletto for his back.

Now was the time to convince the stubborn Italian who thought he was invincible he wasn’t bullet proof.

“
She’s right, Sandro, you have a lot to lose,” Dave said, hoping somehow Sandro would see reason.

“
Exactly why he must be caught for my family to have a normal life. And now we must find a way to get Nia back as well.”

“
We’ll get her back.” Dave hoped if he said it enough it would be true. His team was currently going through traffic light cameras hoping to follow the kidnappers’ SUV electronically.

“
You
won’t do anything,” Sandro snapped.

“
Let’s talk more,” Dave urged. They were approaching the parking lot where he kept his car. “Pull over in this next parking lot so you can concentrate on what I have to say instead of driving.”

Sandro held silent, once again acting as if he were going to ignore Dave.

“
Come on, I’ll pay the parking fee,” Dave added. “Working together we’ll accomplish more.”

At the last possible moment, Sandro whipped the Buick into the parking lot, stopping to take the ticket from the automatic machine. He parked, but left the engine running.

“
Look, Sandro, after I talked to you, we swept the office, found the bug.” Dave looked at Marisa. “Tell me who dropped the device?”

“
I don’t know his name,” she answered. “His son was in a motorcycle accident and is now paralyzed. He needed the money for medical bills.”

“
Son of a bitch. John Madison. I donated money to help cover the medical expenses.”

“
Perhaps your donation wasn’t enough?” Sandro said.

Dave ignored Sandro’s sarcasm. “He’s not one of my team, but we’ll be watching him,” Dave promised. “John won’t plant another bug. When we get Carlo, we’ll nail John’s ass right along with him.”

“
Nailing asses won’t do good now. He has already caused much damage,” Sandro said.

“
Tell him what we have discussed, Sandro,” Marisa encouraged. “He can help.”

Sandro shook his head. “No, I do not think so.”

“
Che
?” she asked, looking obviously frustrated.

“
Why not?” Dave demanded.

“
It is dangerous for too many people to know.”

“
I trust my men, Sandro.”

“
The trust has done me no good.”

“
We won’t make the same mistake twice,” Dave assured him. “I’ll tighten security so much--”

“
My
wife
is in danger, Agent Armstrong,” Sandro interrupted. “I do not think Carlo will hesitate to kill her in spite of what Marisa says.”

Dave lost his temper. “Don’t you think I know she’s in danger! That’s why I have to help.”

“
I know you loved her. Maybe you still love her.” Sandro met Dave’s gaze. “But I will save her. She is
my
wife.”

Heat rose under Dave’s collar. Marisa sent him a curious look, which he ignored. “Do you plan to turn yourself over to them?”

“
If it becomes necessary.”

“
One man. Against the mob? You plan to live to tell about it?”

“
Marisa will help. We have a plan.”

“
You could be killed.”

“
It is a chance I must take. If I am killed, you must make sure my wife and son are safe.”

Dave didn’t even want to consider the possibility of Sandro’s death. It was too tempting, and after working years to get over heartbreak, which right or wrong, Dave had blamed Sandro for, it was a road Dave didn’t want to travel.

“
You have no authority to act, Sandro.”

“
Carlo will only recognize authority from someone more powerful. Your laws are not good enough.”

“
That’s bullshit. We have RICO, surveillance equipment. We have men and weapons--”

“
You do not have Carlo.”

Dave sighed. “You’re bound to be planning something illegal.”

“
Which is a good reason for you not to know. You cannot break your laws. I can.”

“
I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep you out of jail.”

“
Jail is a minor thing.”

Under the circumstances, Dave knew Sandro was right. But still, Dave would do his best to keep their plans within the law, so no one but Carlo and his men would be going to jail.

Dave looked at Marisa. “You’re in this with him?”

She studied Sandro’s set jaw before she turned back to Dave. She nodded. “
Si
. I am in.”

“
You want us to secure you a place to stay?” Dave asked Sandro.

“
I will find my own place. I think I will move around often.”

“
And drive different cars, right?” Dave’s attempted humor didn’t even evoke a smile this time. He cleared his throat. “My car’s parked close, I’ll get out here.”

In the rearview mirror, Sandro met Dave’s gaze. “Keep my son safe.”

“
I will.” Dave laid his hand on Sandro’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself.”

“
Carlo will not get the best of me this time. I will be careful. He will get what he deserves after taking so much from me.”

Dave couldn’t disagree there. “Keep in touch,” he added before he got out of the car.

When Sandro and Marisa drove off, Dave’s shoulders slumped as he felt his chance for bringing down the Peruzzo crime family leaving with them. He didn’t know what Sandro had in mind, but Dave had firsthand experience that it wasn’t easy to outsmart Carlo. Even if Sandro had Marisa’s help. Too many things could go wrong. Today’s big all around fuckup, proved that.

Dave knew without a doubt he couldn’t let them handle this on their own.

Chapter 11

Nia didn’t know where they had taken her. Once they left New York City and headed north, the roads were unfamiliar. They drove forever it seemed. By the time they stopped in a densely wooded area and the New Yorker with the gun dragged her out of the car, tension and fear had been replaced with a growing exhaustion. Her limbs felt heavy, hard to move. At this point, if he shot her, she didn’t know if she’d have the strength to care.

The red brick house rose in straight, narrow lines, three stories high.

“
Mikey, take her up to the room,” the big Italian whose name she learned was Angelo, instructed the New Yorker.

With the gun poked into her ribs, Mikey, a slimy little man with dark gel-stiffened hair and an acne-scarred face, forced her to walk up all three flights of stairs. He opened a door and waved the gun. She moved inside.

It was a bedroom. Brief panic stiffened her spine, penetrating through her tiredness. She didn’t know his intentions. The thought of him touching her made her tighten her muscles, ready to defend herself.

She turned in time to see the door shut, followed by a distinctive click. Alone--thankfully alone--but locked in. Breathing easier, at least for the moment, she walked to the window. A damn long drop to the ground. A quick scan of the room and a useless shake on the locked doorknob promised no escape anytime soon. She needed a plan.

First, rest. She sank into a soft overstuffed chair set up beside a small table. Her brain couldn’t function when she was so tired. The bed looked tempting, and she was afraid she’d sleep too long if she lay on the inviting down comforter. It was not a normal condition, this tiredness--usually her energy abounded--but circumstances were not normal.

And being pregnant sapped her strength, as well. That had been her first clue. Not a missed period like most women. As a professional athlete, she trained so much her periods were irregular anyway. But when her energy level dropped off drastically, she knew. It had been the same way with Daniele.

Daniele.
A pain hit her heart. God, her sweet son. Was he okay? Would she ever see him again?

Of course she would. No negative thoughts. Positive thinking made her a success. Positive thinking would help her escape. At the moment, her options seemed limited, but she would find a way to get away from these criminals. Then she would find her husband.

She rested her head against the plush chair. Closed her eyes. Just a little rest.

* * *

She was running. Running as if demons from hell were nipping at her feet. If she fell, she was dead. Hurry. Her heart hammered frantically against her ribcage. Her breath labored through her lungs. Move, feet.

Move, move, move.

Safety was close. Just a little further. She had to make it.

Gunshots exploded around her. The noise was deafening.

Instinctively, she ducked, and urged her churning legs to greater speed.

Someone hurled a bowling ball into her shoulder. Another loud crack sounded. She went sprawling. She scrambled to stay on her feet, scraping her knees, her fingers clawing at the ground to push her upright.