Amaranthe’s gaze flicked to him.You nearly died, Geno. You should never have taken that chance.
Youwouldhave died.He couldn’t help the censure in his voice.
She ignored him and turned her attention back to Elie and Stefano. “The International Council was contacted by the family of riders from Croatia. Like the Ferraro family here in New York, they are extremely small, only four riders for a large area. They noticed petty crimes, mostly among the young teens. In the beginning the crimes were outside their territory, but they were aware of them, then they began happening in their territory. Thefts. Robberies of shops. Tourists no longer safe. Mistrust spread where there had always been goodwill within their territory. The first murder was outside the territory, a priest. Then the greeters, the parents of the shadow riders, were murdered.”
“A priest?” Geno echoed. An alarm went off. A young priest had been present the night his father’s leg had beenamputated. He had been giving his father the last rites when Geno had been forcibly removed from the room. “Father Brennen should be checked on. I should have thought to send protection. What the hell is wrong with me?”
“Who is Father Brennen?” Amaranthe asked.
“He gave my father the last rites when his leg was amputated all those years ago. My mother’s cousins, Viola and Noemi, were the nurses attending the surgery.” Geno hastily texted several of his men to get to the rectory to check on the priest and stay to ensure his safety. “It may have nothing whatsoever to do with what happened that night, but it seems too big of a coincidence that both women were murdered and so were my parents.”
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Elie said. “At least not that big.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Geno studied Amaranthe’s composed features for a long time before he allowed the pieces to click into place. “You had no way of knowing what happened when I was thirteen and my parents turned over leadership to me. As far as the Archambaults and Jean-Claude knew, my father was in a car accident. That was what everyone was told, including me. I suspected this attack on my parents stemmed from that night only because the murders tied together. But you didn’t have that information. You weren’t even born when my father handed leadership over to me. You couldn’t possibly have known of that connection. How could you have chosen to come to New York?”
There was silence in the room. The sun shone through the wall of windows. The tiled floor and high ceiling with the wide-open spaces soothed him. He needed the minimalistic appearance his home offered. Simple artistic design. He was a big man and he needed space to move. Everywhere he looked the glass opened his home to theoutside. At times—like now—he needed those views just to breathe.
It was a legitimate question. She had to have applied for her position in the ballet long before she came to New York to establish her cover. What had led her to New York? Geno hadn’t informed the Archambaults of what had been taking place in his territory. They would be able to read about the murders, of course, but those came later.
Stefano and Elie exchanged long looks, both waiting for an explanation. Amaranthe remained silent, looking up at the high ceiling and then staring out over the water.
Geno broke the silence. “You were sent to Croatia to gather facts and come up with a conclusion. Would you share that conclusion?”
She sighed and pushed her fingers against her temples. Geno could feel the throbbing pain growing stronger in her head. She was very reluctant to talk about her report to the council, but he could tell she was going to capitulate. He willed the others to remain silent and allow her to set her own pace.
“I believed whoever these conspirators were, it wasn’t a onetime thing. I felt it was a deliberate targeted attack. Yes, the riders were a small group and much more vulnerable than other families, but there was a reason other than that one that they were chosen.”
Amaranthe frowned, and Geno could feel her reaching for an explanation, a way to try to get them to understand. “When I’m on the ground, on-scene investigating, I get strong impressions, and then I have to try to back those feelings up with facts to get the council to take what I say seriously. In this case, there seemed to me a ritual to the way the female rider was murdered. The precise stab wounds. The patient lead-up to the murders and the fact that two shadow riders—although older, they were still riders—could be murdered simultaneously was very alarming to me. This was meticulously planned and carried out. I believed that ultimately,they would have murdered the younger riders, but they didn’t want to call any more attention to themselves.”
She fell silent again, once more pressing her fingertips to the pressure points near her eyes. Geno wanted to call a halt to the inquisition. She needed to rest again. He indicated the water sitting on the end table beside her chair. She picked up the glass automatically and took a drink before continuing.
“The council didn’t necessarily agree with my assessment—that the Croatia riders weren’t chosen at random—that they were specific targets, and these people weren’t going to stop. They also didn’t believe the younger riders were under a threat. I still believe they are. I think if the success continues, the killers will become bolder.”
Geno remained silent, shocked and astounded at how her mind worked. As far as he was concerned, Amaranthe Aubert was a total genius. She was not only beautiful and talented and an excellent elite rider, she had a mind to rival the best he knew in their business—Stefano.
She flashed him a look from under her long lashes, and he knew she was reading him. He didn’t care in the least that she knew he thought she was the most amazing woman in the world. He admired her. Respected her. He hoped to hell the council did.
Elie asked the question. “Did the International Council take your report seriously?”
She sighed. “They didn’t buy into the idea that the murders would happen again somewhere else or that the younger riders might be in danger.”
“What is your percentage of being right when you hand in your reports?” Stefano asked.
“Until I made the mistake with Geno, and I suppose since I didn’t send in a report, I’m still at one hundred percent. That’s why Jean-Claude sent me here when I requested to come.”
“You made the assessment that the next hit would be in New York?” Elie asked.
She nodded. “Yes. I had a strong feeling about New York. Small family of riders, a large territory to cover. Older family. There was something that pulled me in this direction. I told Jean-Claude I was certain—and I was. Every instinct I had said they were going to hit again, and it was going to be here.”
“I wonder why the council disagrees with your findings when in the end, you prove to be right,” Stefano mused. “That makes no sense.”
“Sure it does,” Elie contradicted. “They are in complete control. In the end, they reluctantly allow her to do as she wishes, but if something goes wrong, they can always say they knew she had blown it. They don’t want her to get too big for her britches.”
Amaranthe laughed. “You’re terrible. No wonder you have such a reputation among all the riders. The legendary Elie Archambault, defying the Archambaults.”
He flashed her an unrepentant grin. “I was a thorn in their side.”
