Thin Lies (Donati Bloodlines #1) (14 page)

It
took Calisto all of two minutes to get the engine roaring, bake the tires
pulling out of the garage, and make his way toward the exit that Emma had taken
to leave. He was just pulling up to the exit that would take him to the Strip
when something out of the corner of his eye made him hit the brakes.

Calisto
pulled over to the side, made sure to give anyone behind him lots of room to
pass, and stepped out of the Porsche. He moved around the front of the car,
stepped up onto the sidewalk, and found the item that had made him stop.

A
black iPhone had been tossed to the manicured grass.

Calisto
knew that phone.

It
was Emma’s.

He
plucked the device up, noting how it didn’t have even a scratch on it. It
turned on perfectly fine. Unfortunately, the locked screen wanted a four-digit
passcode to enter the phone. He shoved it into his pocket anyway.

As
Calisto got back into the Porsche, he wondered why Emma had tossed the iPhone.
She would need a way to contact someone if she needed help to move from one
spot to another. It was her main connection to people.

Affonso
had a new phone waiting for her in New York, but this one was untouched by the
man’s usual methods of tracking.

Unless,
of course, Emma knew something that Calisto didn’t where the phone was
concerned. It was a good possibility that if it came from Emma’s father or
uncle, it might have a tracking chip or GPS app to map her whereabouts.

Pulling
out onto the Strip, Calisto hit the gas hard. “Think, man. Where would she go
first?”

Calisto
dug for his phone and balanced it against the steering wheel with one hand
while he drove with the other. He unlocked the device and scrolled through to
his email. Opening the file he had pinned at the top so that he wouldn’t lose
it, Calisto kept one eye on the road and the other on the pages of information
he had collected about Emma before he made the trip to Vegas.

School
information.

Hangouts.

Interests.

Friends
.

That’s
what Calisto wanted. He needed to know her friends, where they lived, and which
one was the closest to their current position. Emma only had so many options to
help her get out of Vegas, or stay quiet long enough to take the heat off her.
Without cash to help her travel, or falsified documents that would keep her
from being tracked by her family, she would be left with whoever would lend a
hand to help her.

Trying
to go through the list of names and information attached to Emma’s list of few friends
was difficult while Calisto attempted to navigate the unfamiliar roads. Despite
being in Vegas for nearly a month, he still wasn’t entirely comfortable driving
in the city.

Calisto
was glad he had saved the information about Emma. After learning more about the
young woman his uncle intended to marry, Calisto considered tossing away the
information as it was practically useless to him.

Apparently
it wasn’t.

The
phone vibrated and rang in Calisto’s hand, nearly making him ram into the trunk
of the vehicle ahead of him. The white Mustang in front of his Porsche laid on
the horn and the driver gave him the middle finger.

Calisto
stuck his own right back up for the asshole to see.

Fuck
him.

Cursing
under his breath at the phone number flashing on the screen of his phone,
Calisto steeled his nerves for a chat that was sure to be
fun
, if he
couldn’t manage to lie his ass off.

“Hello,
zio
,” Calisto said when he answered.

He
put the call on speaker and tossed it to the cup holder. He couldn’t afford to
get pulled over by the police because he had a damned phone in his hand.

“Cal,”
Affonso greeted. “How’s my favorite nephew this morning?”

“I’m
your only nephew. What do you want?”

“Is
the attitude really necessary?”

Yes
.

“I’m
driving, Affonso,” Calisto said, not bothering to hide the tiredness in his
tone. “I don’t really have time to make small—”

“You
always have time for your boss.”

Calisto
checked his attitude. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“It’s
ten in the morning in Vegas. What are you doing driving?”

Somehow,
a lie found its way out without hesitation. “Emma is meeting up with a
girlfriend for brunch. I’m following behind.”

“Brunch,”
Affonso scoffed. “Lazy woman’s breakfast. Can you at least make sure she
doesn’t drink?”

“She’s
not legal.”

“Were
you legal when you first began drinking?”

“Point
taken,” Calisto muttered. “I’ll keep an eye on her, like I have been doing.”

“Perfect.
You’re missed back here, you know.”

Calisto
swallowed back the immediate retort he wanted to let out. The one that would
tell his uncle no, he wasn’t missed, he was simply not under Affonso’s thumb.
“Is that so?”

“Ray
is picking up your slack,” Affonso explained.

Ray
Missotti, Affonso’s underboss, was the other great pain in Calisto’s life. If
his uncle wasn’t on his ass, then Ray was doing it for Affonso.

“I’ll
be home in, what, three days? Tell him to take a fucking pill. It’s not like
the man ever lifts a finger. It’s a good lesson for him.”

Affonso
chuckled. “I already did tell him all of that. Nonetheless, that’s my point. He
hates running around for me and keeping an eye on things like you do. And
besides, you do a better job of it.”

“Three
days,” Calisto repeated.

It
wasn’t just a reminder for his uncle, but also for him. He had three damned
days to find Emma, get her back with no one any wiser to her getaway, and catch
the plane for New York.

A
part of him wanted to let her run.

The
other part knew better.

“Hard
to believe that I’ll be a married man once again in just a week,” Affonso said
more to himself than to Calisto. “You know, the offer is still there, Cal.”

“What
offer,
zio
?”

“The
option to take over the family. My marriage doesn’t make a difference to that.
You can still—”

“I
don’t want to talk about this again,” Calisto interrupted dully.

“I
want my
famiglia
to keep my family name, Cal. We have been the Donati
Cosa Nostra for five decades.”

“Then
make sure your next wife pops out a boy for you.”

Calisto
wished he could take the words back the very second they left his lips, but he
couldn’t. Strangely, the odd pain from earlier pierced his chest again at the
idea of Emma birthing Affonso’s children.

What
in the hell was wrong with him?

“That’s
my plan,” Affonso said, unaware of Calisto’s inner battle. “And I’ll have to
stay alive long enough to put my boy on the right path.”

Calisto
chewed on his inner cheek before saying, “I’d look after him.”

It
was the truth.

Despite
how much Calisto hated Affonso, he would take care of the man’s children. For
many reasons, but mostly because Calisto had been taught by his mother that no
matter what, family came first. More importantly, it was Calisto’s job to take
care of those in his family who couldn’t watch after themselves.

That’s
what a good man did.

Always.

Affonso
was the only one Calisto didn’t give that gift to.

“I
know you would, my boy,” Affonso said heavily. “You’re good in that way.”

Calisto
smirked, tasting a bitterness on his tongue. “Yeah, I am.”

“Give
my hello to Emma. Make sure she keeps her nose clean. Not long now, and you can
drop the babysitting act, Cal.”

“Will
do.”

“
Ciao
,
my boy.”

Calisto
didn’t say goodbye before hanging up the call. Rubbing at the ache beginning to
throb at the base of his skull, Calisto caught sight of a flashing neon sign.

Pawns.
Electronics. Gold. And More.

He
smirked again, and cut in front of the car trying to pass him to make the
turnoff for the business with the flashy sign.

Chances
were, that place took hot items. Almost all pawn shops did. Sometimes they
would report it to police, but most times they didn’t. Nonetheless, if the
place would take electronics, someone in that shop knew how to unlock an iPhone
without losing the information on it.

Hopefully
.

Maybe
there was a last call that Emma had made. Someone with info about where she had
gone. Even better if whoever it was happened to also be in the list of names
inside Calisto’s files on the girl.

Calisto
was willing to take the risk.

What
else did he have to lose?

Emma

“Poppy,
you there?” Emma asked into the payphone.

“Emma?”

“Yeah.
I told you that I would call you back.”

“I
know, but I just had—never mind, it doesn’t matter. I thought you said you were
getting rid of your cell phone, remember?”

Emma’s
brow furrowed. “I did. I tossed it right after we talked.”

“Then
why do I have a text from your phone from five minutes ago?”

Dammit
.

Her
phone required a locked passcode to get inside. The only way someone could send
a text from it was if they had broken the lock or entered the correct passcode.
Emma was positive that she had thrown her phone in a spot where Calisto
wouldn’t find it if he came after her.

She’d
hoped …  

“You
there?” Poppy asked.

“Yeah.”

“Did
you hear what I said about the text? Why is it there?”

“I
don’t know,” Emma said quietly. “Did you respond?”

“Not
yet.”

Emma’s
anxiety climbed higher. “Don’t. Okay?”

“Yeah,
sure.”

Outside
the coffee shop, Emma took note of the lowering sun. A pink and orange sky
highlighted the horizon, reminding her that it was getting late and she needed
to find a place to sleep for the night. She had taken the few hundred dollars that
was stored in the bottom of her jewelry box, and the two-hundred in twenties
that she found in the glove compartment of Calisto’s Mercedes, but it wasn’t
nearly enough.

Emma
hadn’t thought taking off would be easy, but she stupidly figured she would be
able to at least get out of Las Vegas before nighttime came. She hadn’t
factored in where she would go, how she would get there after she left
Calisto’s car in a random parking lot, or what to do after.

She
didn’t have enough money. She had no way to get anywhere without spending what
money she had. Her plans were failing. Fucking miserably.

She
felt like an idiot.

Emma
had seen the cordless phone unattended on Calisto’s lap, thought security might
screw up who was who in the apartment, thought about the exit door, and taken a
chance. She hadn’t stopped to consider all that would be involved in taking off
without money on hand, or any real plans to go by.

Her
lingering guilt about tricking Calisto, and leaving him on the hook to explain
her sudden disappearing act, wouldn’t let up. It was eating away at her, but
Emma forced it to the back of her mind. She didn’t have a choice but to leave.

She
couldn’t go to New York willingly.

No
way.

“Where
are you right now?” Poppy asked.

“Downtown.”

It
was the most Emma would give her friend. Poppy Johansen came from a well-to-do
Vegas family that had a hand in a few casinos. Emma met her old friend during
one of the many charity events her family attended.

“A
good spot or a bad spot?”

“Kind
of in between,” Emma replied.

“Will
you tell me what’s going on now?” Poppy asked.

“Better
you don’t know. I just want to know if you can point me in the direction of
someone who could help me, Poppy. That’s all. I need a safe way out of Vegas
without someone knowing it’s me. Did you get any more info on that guy you
mentioned this morning when I called?”

Poppy
made a sad sound. “Are you running, Emmy?”

Emma
sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It
does to me. What happened?”

“Things,”
Emma said vaguely.

“Is
this about what your uncle does … the mafia and all that stuff?”

Emma
didn’t want her friend involved in those affairs. She didn’t even want Poppy to
think about it. It certainly wouldn’t lead to anything good.

“Poppy,
stop asking me questions. I need help without a fucking inquisition. Okay?”

“Yeah,
okay, I get it.”

“The
guy—Mika, you said. Right?” Emma asked.

“I
mean, that’s what we’ve always called him, but he doesn’t give out his last
name.”

That
didn’t sound good.

“You
don’t know his last name?”  

“Well,
when someone wanted a little something-something, they gave Mika a call and he
would show up with whatever they wanted.”

“Like
drugs?” Emma asked.

“Yeah.”

It
wasn’t uncommon. Rich kids didn’t dabble in drugs the same way other people
did. Their dealers weren’t shady people on a street corner, or a guy leaning
out of a low-riding car. Their dealers were typically on speed-dial, showed up
in a suit, and didn’t look out of place in a crowd of wealthy brats.

That
hadn’t been Emma’s scene. She knew that sometimes Poppy indulged in substances.
It wasn’t for Emma to judge.

“But
I don’t think you want to go to him, Emmy,” Poppy said after a moment.

“Why
not?”

If
the guy could get her out of town, Emma didn’t give a fuck how he did it.

“I
made some calls and asked around. Mika isn’t in the business of dealing like he
used to be. He’s working with other people—bad people. Or so the word is,
anyway. I can’t confirm any of it since I haven’t talked to Mika in a year.”

“But
if you could get a hold of him, would he do you a favor?”

Poppy
blew out a quiet breath. “I used to date the guy. We ended it on okay terms. I
think he would, but it doesn’t sound good. What people were saying about him, I
mean.”

“Like
what?”

“Not
a lot. But when dealing goes from a good, solid source of income to something
that’s only whispered about, it can’t be all that safe or great, Emmy. From the
sounds of it, he stopped catering to the users and might be working with skin
instead. That’s not the kind of shit you want to be mixed up in, all right?”

Skin
…  

The
term didn’t register to Emma.

“Yeah,
but—”

“And
he might come with a price,” Poppy interrupted softer.

“I
get it. You’re worried. I just need some help. Will you help me or not?”

Poppy
was quiet for a long time. Long enough that Emma thought her friend might have
hung up the phone on her.

“Will
you tell me what happened?” Poppy asked.

“I’ll
tell you that I’m running,” Emma said instead.

“I’ll
give Mika a call. He had a private number for me to use that wasn’t the same as
his number for clients. Maybe he still has it. If not, then I’ll make some more
calls.”

“Thanks.”

“Call
me in the morning. It’s getting late. Try to get a decent hotel room for the
night, eat something, and think this all over. I don’t want you getting mixed
up in bad stuff, Emmy,” Poppy finished, sounding sadder than ever.

“Don’t
worry about me. I can handle myself. And hey, if your ex can get me out of the
state without trouble, then I’m willing to turn cheek to whatever business he’s
got going on.”

She’d
spent her whole life turning her cheek, after all.

What
difference did it make?

“Just
be careful,” Poppy said. “There was a reason why I broke it off with Mika.”

“Why
was that?”

“Because
I was starting to think I didn’t even know who he was.”

Emma
sucked in a slow breath.

She
would take the risk.

“I’ll
call you in the morning, Poppy.”

“Be
safe, Emmy.”

Emma
hung up the phone, and took a moment to gather her thoughts. She might not have
had a very good plan before, but she was going to start by putting together a
better one now.

One
step a time.

She
decided to start by refilling her coffee, grabbing some soup and sweets from
the café to eat, and then finding a decent hotel room that wouldn’t cost her a
lot to sleep in for the night. Grabbing the waiting bag down at her feet, Emma
made her way to the register. She ordered the coffee and food, and then paid
and waited for her order.

“There’s
a quiet, clean motel two blocks away,” the cashier said.

Emma
glanced up from the floor. “Pardon?”

The
cashier nodded at the small suitcase in Emma’s hand. “I’m guessing you’re
probably looking for a room, unless you’ve already got one. Sometimes we see a
lot of last minute tourists come in and they don’t have anything booked. Like I
said, there’s a decent place two blocks away. Tracy’s Motel. It’s not very big,
but you won’t have to worry about strange people or bad business.”

Emma
didn’t realize that she looked like a tourist, but with the small luggage, it
shouldn’t have been a surprise that the cashier assumed she was one. It didn’t
matter. Emma now had an idea of where to go for a place to hide out for the
evening.

The
woman pushed the coffee and bag of food across the counter. Emma took it.

“Coffee
is fresh, as I just made a new pot. You might want to warm up the soup when you
get to the hotel, though.”

“Thanks,”
Emma said.

“No
problem. Have a good stay. Try not to sleep too much of it away. Vegas is the
city that never sleeps, you know.”

Emma
laughed.

Yeah,
she knew.

“Sleeping
is the last thing on my mind.”

That
was truer than the cashier could possibly know.

Twenty
minutes and a two-block walk later, Emma found the motel that the cashier had
mentioned. The parking lot had a decent amount of vehicles, and the place
seemed quiet enough for being in a poorer part of the city. At the front desk,
Emma paid for a room, allowed the woman to photocopy her ID in case damages
incurred during her stay, and left with a new key ring in her hand.

Emma
walked up the stairs outside to the second level of the motel and found her
room four doors down from the left. Once she had the door unlocked and was
inside, Emma finally took a real breath.

She
hadn’t felt like she could breathe in hours. Not since she snatched Calisto’s
keys, made a rash decision with nothing but blind faith in her pocket, and ran.

Tossing
her small luggage into the corner, Emma found a chair by the window and sat
down. Her feet ached. She was pretty sure that she hadn’t ever walked as much
as she did today. Her first sip of coffee was heavenly.

Emma
fingered the curtain covering the window, and pulled it slightly to the side so
that she could look outside. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Emma still let
the curtain fall back in place just in case someone—no matter how unlikely it
was—might recognize her. She knew she was safe for the moment. Oddly, it didn’t
help the nerves crawling beneath her surface.

She
had felt better when she knew Calisto was watching her back, as crazy as that
was.

Had
she made the right choice?

Could
she do this?

Would
it work?

Emma
hoped so.