“How did you find me so fast?” she asked.
“See what’s left of your dress?” I said, pointing at the battered gown flung over a chair.
“Yeah?”
“There’s an excellent, long-range tracker in the hem.” I explained.
She started to laugh and stopped in a hurry, groaning. “What’s next, chipping me like a pet?”
“Don’t joke,” I warned, carefully stroking the hair off her forehead. “You wouldn’t be the first Mafia bride to have a tracker inserted under your skin.”
“You’re lying,” Cora looks shocked, which I find adorable. She thinks about it. “Ekaterina?” she asks in a whisper.
“She’s not the only one,” I said. She’s fighting her exhaustion but I can see her losing the battle.
“Dario?”
“Yes,leonessa?”
“Will you sit with me until I fall asleep?” she asks, eyes drooping shut.
“I will be here all night, watching over you,” I whisper, “I promise.”
After an hour of holding my sleeping bride and staring out the window, deep in thought, I look up when I hear the soft tap on the door.
“Enter,” I said, keeping my voice low.
Carlo slips in, closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to give you an update.” His gaze moves to Cora, still curled up on my lap. “How is she?”
“Santos really worked her over,” I try to keep my voice level. “But she’ll recover without any ill effects. What did you find out?”
He looks a little disappointed. “I really thought his lieutenant - Raoul Silva, he was the older guy - would be tougher. He’s already spilling details right and left. Not much loyalty now that the old bastard is dead. He said Cora’s parents tipped off Santos to her location. They apparently thought him whisking her away on some kind of elopement was going to work. I’m not sure they believed you two were married.”
I’m forcing myself to breathe slowly, even though my blood pressure is rocketing upward. “Maybe I don’t need the Senator’s influence as much as I need to kill him. Slowly.”
“I hear you, boss,” Carlo said fervently.
“Put Andrea on Silva,” I said, rubbing my eyes, “he’s got a lot of rage to work out. How’s Davide?”
“He lost a lot of blood,” he said, “but he’ll be okay.”
“Good,” I said, taking a deep breath. “And I need to know who took the kill shot on Santos. He’s getting one hell of a bonus.”
“That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about,” he said, the stress lines deepening on his face again. “That was the first shot. It should be easy to track back and find out who took it. The men in the helicopter weren’t at the right angle and none of them started shooting until Santos was dead. None of the men on the ground did, either.”
“What are you saying?” I asked.
“You saw the size of the explosion,” he said, “that kind of effect requires an extremely high-caliber bullet, like a 6.5 Creedmoor, for example. Based on the range and trajectory, that kill shot came from a sniper at least a quarter mile away.”
“We don’t know who killed Santos,” I said slowly, “but we know they’ve been watching him. Or us.”
Carlo nodded grimly. “Exactly.”
Chapter Sixteen
In which Cora discovers that Google is not always her friend.
Cora…
