“Okay. What else did you find out?”
“Gallo’s emails are heavily encrypted and she has bank accounts hidden in the Cayman Islands. Even if we find Luigi’s body, we may never be able to tie her to his murder. We need a strong motive and I’m thinking the answer lies in her laptop. We need to steal it.”
Suds eyes go wide as his brows raise. “Who are you and what did you do with Agent Russo?”
“I’ll figure out how to do it legally. Otherwise, the Feds will never be able to tie Luigi’s death to Gallo. Shit. That reminds me, we still need the body.”
The SUV speakers ring and Suds answers. “Slate?”
“Have Sam send me the landfill’s coordinates. I got cadaver dogs waiting. You guys better be right or all our asses are on the line.”
“Mrs. Rossini may be old but her mind is solid. If she said her kidnapper admitted to putting a body in the dumpster, it’s true.
Slate grunts and hangs up.
“Was that goodbye?” I glance over at Suds, tapping his fingers on the wheel, staring at the stopped car in front of us.
“Uh-huh. It also means hello, what the fuck, and a whole lot of other things. So, what’s the plan?”
Chapter 19
Sam
Back in Brooklyn, I wait in the bushes while Suds walks up Mrs. Gallo’s front steps and raps on the door. She doesn’t answer right away, so he rings the doorbell.
“Delivery. I need your signature.” Dressed in UPS brown, he raises a package toward the moving curtains.
As planned, the door opens, he hands her a clipboard, and as she takes his pen, he pushes her inside. I jump up the steps and follow.
Everything is going so well until she snatches a gun beside the door, backs up, and points it in our direction.
Suds steps in front of me. “Give it up, your man talked before he died. We know you killed Luigi.”
Her face pales but she recovers fast. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. You’re intruders. I could shoot you both and no one would be the wiser.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, ma’am. I don’t think you’ll want the police sniffing around.”
“Good thing you’re not me.” Gallo takes aim and as her finger twitches, Suds kicks.
Astonished, I stare as the weapon fires, plaster rains down and the gun skids across the floor.
Totally ad lib, Suds grabs the woman’s arms and twists them behind her back.
“Back pocket, sugar.” He waits while I grab plastic ties and bind her.
Not wanting to hear Gallo’s creative cursing, I pick up the first fabric I can find, a lace doily, and stuff it into her foul mouth. Then I reach in my pocket, snap on forensic gloves, and walk to her open laptop on the kitchen table.
We’re back on schedule.
Much like an FBI instructor, I begin a lecture on security while saving her files onto a thumb drive. “If you need to step away from your computer, even for a second, you should lock it. Otherwise, you’re still logged in if a stranger with malintent walks by. Also, it’s not wise to store your passwords in your browser. Why, just about anyone could log into all your accounts, your applications, your emails… Whoa. Looky here.”
For Suds’ benefit, I lift my index finger high in the air, then bring it down on the enter key. “What a lovely confession, Anne. I amsoglad your conscience was bothering you. Everyone should bare their souls.”
I grin when our prisoner grunts, her eyes dark and menacing.
“You say you didn’t send it? How can that be? It came from your IP address. I also included your Cayman account numbers and forwarded a recent email from Luigi. No wonder you killed him. Blackmail? Tsk-tsk. He should’ve known better.”
I pull the gag out of the angry woman’s mouth. “You think I won’t kill you for this?”
