Shadow Warrior, page 29
part #4 of Shadow Rider Series
“Where was Pierson found?” Giovanni asked.
“Berardo found him in the dumpster behind Giordano’s butcher shop. I was grateful he went to the garbage first thing and not Claretta. These bodies were in very bad shape.”
“But they took a fourth carpet,” Vittorio said. “Another employee we don’t know of, or a warning to us?”
“I think the dead bodies put in dumpsters behind the buildings we own might be a warning,” Taviano said. “I’m so fucking glad I sent Lucia, Amo and Nicoletta to Italy. Did you have the dumpster behind Lucia’s Treasures searched?”
“Lucia and Amo are in Italy?” There was obvious relief in Eloisa’s voice.
Emmanuelle put her mouth close to Vittorio’s ear. “Sometimes I think she cares more for the people in our territory than her own children.”
Vittorio kissed the top of her head, aching for her. Her heart had to be completely broken. Somewhere deep inside, she had to be holding out hope that the Saldis were not preparing for an all-out war with the Ferraros. “Sometimes it does feel that way, honey. Always know, you’re very loved.”
“I do know,” Emmanuelle said.
“We’re still searching other dumpsters as well as for any missing employees in any of our establishments or the shops in our territory,” Stefano continued.
“Would they have two dealers in that small of an area?” Vittorio asked. “One in the club for sure, and then Bruno already.”
“What other purpose then?” Ricco asked.
“Not gun running,” Giovanni said. “If they were selling guns, who would they be selling to other than our family?”
“They went after Grace,” Eloisa said. “Human trafficking? Right under our noses? Would they dare?”
Vittorio thought it over in the ensuing silence. “They were using the club for their dirty work and that had to be deliberate. Maybe trafficking.”
“Have any of our girls or boys disappeared?” Eloisa asked. “If so, who is looking into it?”
“I was,” Emmanuelle said. “Two of the girls from the local high school. They were friends with Nicoletta and hung out at the flower shop with her.”
Vittorio happened to be looking at Taviano. His features hardened perceptibly. He went from looking young to appearing a dangerous, lethal and very pissed-off man.
“Two friends of Nicoletta’s have gone missing and you didn’t tell me?” Taviano snapped. “What the fuck, Emme?”
“Sisters. Twins. Eva and Marta Giboli,” Emmanuelle conceded. “Their mother, Rita, asked me to look quietly into their disappearance. She thought they’d run away from home. Their father lives in Tuscany and they’ve never met him but whenever she insisted they do chores around the house, they threatened to go live with him. She was afraid they might have.”
“And you didn’t think it was worth telling me?” Taviano repeated, glaring at her. “Nicoletta is a hellion. If her friends were running away, wasn’t it possible she might have been considering following their example?”
Emmanuelle sighed. “Seriously, Taviano, I just got the call from her yesterday and started the investigation. I couldn’t talk to Nicoletta because she’s in Italy. Rita didn’t see fit to call me until yesterday evening. She feared her friends would think she was a bad mother if they knew the girls had run away to be with their father.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Eloisa snapped. “I’ve always wanted to slap that woman. She doesn’t have a brain in her head. How long have the girls been gone?”
“Almost two weeks.”
“Did she talk to their father?”
Emmanuelle shook her head. “She refuses to talk to him, but she’s certain the girls are with him. She wants me to get in touch with him. I tried, but no one answered his phone.”
Stefano scowled darkly. “That’s insane. She waits almost two weeks before she contacts anyone and won’t ask her ex-husband if the girls are with him? What the hell is wrong with her?”
“I have no idea,” Emmanuelle said.
“Put the Grecos on it immediately. I want an answer in the next hour. If they aren’t with their father, and they’ve been taken, the odds of getting them back are slim to none after two weeks.”
Ricco swore under his breath. “Maybe she needs parenting classes, or better yet, if the girls are safe with their father, just leave them there.”
“I think we’re all in agreement there,” Eloisa said.
Vittorio didn’t point out how ironic it was that Eloisa was furious with Rita, although he had to admit, his mother might not have been nurturing, but she saw to their training and would have gone looking in a heartbeat had they disappeared.
“I’ve texted the Grecos with all the information,” Giovanni said. “They’re on it.”
Vittorio settled back in his own chair, ignoring the way Eloisa rolled her eyes. His mother thought they all spoiled Emmanuelle. He didn’t think Emmanuelle had ever been spoiled in her life, although the brothers loved her and tried to protect her when they could. Certainly, she would need help avoiding Val Saldi. He hadn’t given the impression he was going to give up.
“We need to either find another body wrapped up in the missing carpet or figure out who they plan to hit next.”
“They could just be fucking with us, stealing another carpet,” Taviano pointed out.
“Or they were going to use it for Bruno’s body, but it was more convenient to take the carpet out of his apartment,” Emmanuelle said.
Stefano looked around the room. “Did Merry set up the coffeepot?”
“Behind you,” Vittorio said, indicating the coffee station.
“I’ll get it,” Emmanuelle offered and jumped up.
“Thanks, honey,” Stefano said. “I’ve got every dumpster in our territory being searched. Any suspects for another Saldi contact in our territory?” He swiveled around to regard his sister. “You have the most contact with everyone, Emmanuelle.”
“Francesca had taken over the visiting as well as sitting on all the committees to represent our families. Have you asked her?” Emmanuelle placed a cup of coffee in front of Stefano and then her mother before going back to the station for more.
“Not yet. She’s been down the last few weeks, and I know you and Sasha have been visiting so Sasha could take over those duties for Francesca.”
“Honestly”—Emmanuelle put the mugs in front of Ricco and Giovanni—“I was so busy trying to remember every detail of every family for Sasha that I wasn’t paying as close attention as I should have been.”
Eloisa heaved an over-exaggerated and very loud sigh.
Emmanuelle clenched her teeth as she handed Vittorio his coffee and set another cup in front of Taviano. Vittorio winked at her. She managed a faint grin as she turned away to get her own coffee.
“I’ll ask Francesca,” Stefano said. “But you take some time to think back to each visit. More than likely, because you know them so well, you’ll notice a detail that will nag at you about someone. I don’t care how ridiculous it sounds, you tell me.”
“I will,” she said immediately.
“We’re going to have to consider that Miceli Saldi is staging a takeover from his brother. Giuseppi has been very wrapped up with his wife’s illness these last few months and has left himself open for a takeover.”
“Or it’s possible it’s his own son and he’s throwing the blame on Miceli,” Eloisa pointed out with a glare at Emmanuelle. “That’s the problem with having power and responsibility and falling in love. It’s selfish.”
“There is always that possibility as well,” Vittorio said before Stefano could reprimand Eloisa. “We have to consider any possibility, no matter how remote.”
“I agree,” Stefano said. “Or a third party may be setting up both brothers.” Stefano turned his attention to Vittorio. “Where are you in your relationship with Grace? Where is she on her recovery?”
“She’s doing physical therapy on her shoulder and arm. The doc says she’s coming along faster than he’d hoped, so physically, she’s much better.”
“And your relationship?”
Vittorio knew Stefano wanted to know if there was a danger of Grace rejecting him. “The reference Eloisa inadvertently made in front of her to all of us needing women meeting a certain criterion set me back a bit. She asked questions I couldn’t answer immediately.” He made certain to keep his features expressionless when he wanted to smirk. Eloisa made mistakes and she would detest that, in her need to slam Grace, she’d been careless with her choice of barbs.
Stefano turned cool eyes on his mother. “You actually made a reference to someone outside our family that could endanger us?”
Eloisa nodded. “Yes. I apologize to all of you for such a slip.”
Stefano drummed his fingers on the table. “Have you been to the doctor since Phillip died?”
Eloisa sent him her blackest scowl. “I don’t believe that is any of your business, nor is it the business of anyone sitting at this table other than me.”
Stefano leaned toward her, his eyes boring into her. “This is a business matter and when you start making mistakes, when any of us starts making mistakes that could jeopardize all shadow riders, that has to be addressed and you know it. You’d be the first one to demand it, Eloisa. You suffered a trauma. We all did. There are going to be repercussions to us. We train physically and mentally, but there is no way to factor in emotions. See a doctor. And I want a report. That’s essential. If you need counseling, get it. We have a rider here who is a counselor. She set up shop a few months back, as you well know.”
Eloisa held his gaze defiantly for several seconds. Vittorio felt sorry for her. Having one’s son dictate after years of being the top rider in the family was most likely humiliating. Still, Eloisa knew he was right and she nodded.
“Continue, Vittorio.”
“I haven’t talked to her about what we do, but I will as soon as I think she can handle it.”
“It has to be soon,” Stefano warned. “You’ve spent so much time together, it might already be too late.”
At Eloisa’s swift intake of breath, Vittorio looked at her face. For the first time, she looked older. Eloisa was a beautiful woman and appeared far younger than her years. He knew it was already too late. He’d seen the way their shadows tangled together.
“One last thing,” Stefano continued. “The victim at the hotel, Mrs. Lanie Kandar, was traveling alone. She has no children. Her husband was killed in a hunting accident about ten years ago and she never remarried. No other children. She lives and travels on the insurance money left to her as a result of her husband’s death. She had no known enemies.”
Vittorio had been certain nothing would be found in the woman’s past that might explain why she was shot, but he was surprised about the boy. “If the boy wasn’t hers, who did he belong to?”
“That’s a good question. The investigation showed the bullet that killed Mrs. Kandar was not fired by any of the policemen present. None of us fired the shot. The Saldis were inside the room, at least we thought they all were. If they had any others secreted around the hotel, they weren’t spotted by the security cameras.”
Vittorio drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.
“Stop,” Eloisa hissed between clenched teeth. “That’s a terrible habit picked up from your brother. It gets on my nerves and I can’t think.”
Vittorio immediately ceased but shot his brother a worried glance. Eloisa had always been edgy, but it seemed as if she was getting more so in the last months.
“Did the police question the kid? He was closer to the shooter than anyone else, he might have seen something we didn’t.” When Stefano shook his head, Vittorio knew immediately what the answer was. “The police never found the kid, did they?”
Stefano shook his head. “What are you thinking?”
“He was small, but up close he looked older. Haydon Phillips assumes different personas. It could have been him.”
“Working for the Saldi family? No way,” Eloisa said. “He tortured their enforcers. They’d kill him on sight.”
“Working for himself,” Stefano said. “He couldn’t have known about the Saldi meeting with us. No one knew about it.”
“Unless he had them bugged. I’m beginning to think he’s capable of anything,” Vittorio said. “On the other hand, it’s worrisome that he was on his way to the second floor rather than hovering outside the door of the conference room or trying to get close enough to one of us to kill us. What was he doing there? Especially if he didn’t know about the meeting between our two families.”
Stefano handed his phone to Giovanni. “I’m headed home now. Vittorio, do your best to wrap this up with Grace. Get her on board.”
Vittorio tried not to laugh. That was so like Stefano.
Emmanuelle rolled her eyes. “She isn’t a boardroom, Stefano. She’s a person.”
“Exactly. A woman. He has a certain reputation.”
“Which is working against me at the moment.”
“I have faith in you. I’m heading home. Ricco, put in a call to security at the hotel. I want a complete overhaul. I want floor by floor inspections. Let’s find out what Haydon was up to.”
“We don’t know if it was him,” Eloisa pointed out. “We don’t want him to get us off our game and make mistakes.”
“We have to go on the premise that it was Haydon,” Taviano said. “He’s a cunning little bastard, and he wants one of us so he can prove to Grace that he can get to her and anyone she cares about. He’s been terrorizing her since she was a kid, keeping her under his thumb. No way is he going to let her go.”
“It’s all a game to him,” Giovanni said. “He thinks he’s the smartest man in the room.”
“Maybe he is,” Vittorio said. “But that doesn’t mean he can win against all of us.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Grace laid her head back and stared up at the explosion of stars. They were spread across the clear night sky, looking like glittering diamonds. Around her, small puffs of steam rose from the hot tub to drift lazily around her. Her shoulder ached from the laps in the pool she’d done in order to strengthen it, but there was satisfaction in knowing she was finally able to actively work on repairing the damage.
Vittorio picked up her foot, put it in his lap and began massaging the sole and toes, relaxing her further. He had a way of touching her that relaxed her body immediately. He’d made love to her dozens of times. The moment he could, he had his staff leave, and he loved to strip her naked, or have her dress in very beautiful, elegant, but transparent lingerie. She learned very quickly he liked looking at her body.
“You do know, if I were to get pregnant, I’m not going to look the same.” It came out before she could censor.
His long fingers continued the massage, and silence ensued. She looked up cautiously and met his eyes. There was always that moment when she first made eye contact where she had the sensation of being held captive. She knew, no matter how long they were together, how many years passed, every time she looked at him, she would feel that same thrill, have that same sensation of a slow somersault in her stomach.
“Where did that come from?”
His tone was strictly neutral. She was coming to understand, Vittorio never got ruffled. He was always calm. Always centered. He spoke in that soft, low tone that carried absolute command, but he didn’t raise his voice.
She gave what she hoped was a casual shrug. “I was just thinking about how much you like to look at my body. After Merry leaves, the first thing you like is for me to strip, or to put on a see-through but gorgeous outfit.”
“Does that bother you?”
Vittorio tipped his head to one side and his hair fell across his forehead. Whenever he did that, she always had the urge to push the wayward strands back. She indulged herself. He touched her often and in intimate places. When they walked, he always had his hand on her hip or the small of her back, sometimes on the cheeks of her butt. She hadn’t yet been brave enough to claim him by voluntarily touching him unless they were having sex. Then she indulged her needs. Right now, she felt very brave reaching out and brushing at his hair with her fingertips.
He lifted his head and caught her finger in his mouth, drawing it in to suck on it. Her stomach plunged. Rolled. Heat exploded deep. Her sex clenched. She would never get enough of him. Never. He was the most sensual, gorgeous man in the world and she still couldn’t believe he was hers. She kept waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop.
His tongue curled around her finger as he drew it out of his mouth. “The question requires an answer, gattina.”
She had to wrack her brain to remember the question, that was how easily he could make everything go out of her head. “I like that you want to look at me,” she admitted. She did, but it took getting used to. “I never thought of myself as beautiful. I think, like most women, I see every flaw I have, so at first, I was a little uncomfortable.” She still was uncomfortable, especially if he laid something out—like tonight—that was something she considered risqué. Still, it didn’t matter. If he wanted her to wear it, she would, because she loved to see the look on his face when she complied with his wishes. Pride. Approval. Pleasure. Possessiveness. He looked at her as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
“You have flaws?”
She laughed. “I’m not pointing them out to you if you’re blind to them.” She couldn’t imagine that, since he saw every little detail.
“I like when you wear what I’ve bought for you. It especially meant something to me tonight. I know you were a little reluctant when you first put it on, but you looked so sexy, you took my breath away. Thank you for at least trying it.”
