Atilio turns around and grabs his brother by the collar of his shirt, lifting him onto his toes, until they’re nose to nose, their eyes locked. Atilio looks ready to murder his brother. I can see his mouth moving, but his voice is too low for me to hear. When he tosses his brother away from him, Luke stumbles back and catches himself before he hits the pavement.
Atilio doesn’t bother looking back as he climbs back into the BMW. Luke gets up, dusts himself off, and goes back into the restaurant. I open the passenger door to get out.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Falcon asks.
“Luke’s vulnerable. This is where he might fuck up. Text me where you end up, and I’ll meet you there,” I reply. Without giving him a chance to argue, I get out and cross the street toward the restaurant. I look at Falcon’s car in the window reflection and see him hesitate, but he’s forced to leave to follow Atilio.
The restaurant looks like an old-fashioned bistro, with checkered red-and-white tablecloths and flowers in vases that resemble retro wine bottles, complete with rattan wrapped around the bottom half of the bottle. Soft Italian music plays in the background, and several tables are occupied and being served. The delicious aroma of tomato sauce wafts through the air. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since early morning and the salty peanuts on the plane weren’t going to assuage my hunger pangs.
“Are you dining alone?” I’m asked by a young woman holding a menu in her hand and wearing what seems to be the uniform for the establishment, a pristine white shirt and black pants, her hair up in a tidy ponytail.
“Yes, thank you.” I might stand out wearing dark blue khakis with a white T-shirt, but thankfully, a blue button-down shirt makes me less conspicuous.
“If you’ll follow me,” she replies, and walks in the opposite direction from where I want to be. I see Luke and want to get as close to him as possible.
“I really like the window. Do you mind if I sit right over there?” I indicate a table for two, not too far from Luke, but far enough to make it seem that I like my privacy.
“Not a problem,” the server says with a grin and takes me to my table. “Are you new in town?”
“I’m on vacation and wandered over this way,” I reply nonchalantly.
“Most tourists prefer the cities. You’re a ways from London,” she adds.
“Yeah, and it was great for a couple of days, but I prefer the quiet. I’m thinking that the next time I plan a trip, I’m going to rent a country home instead of staying at a hotel in the city,” I answer with a chuckle.
This seems to satisfy her curiosity. She hands me the menu. “I suggest the gnocchi. They’re my favorite item on the menu,” she says, then adds, “I’ll give you a few minutes, but can I start you off with a drink?”
I order a glass of wine and glance at the menu. Luke is fixated on his cell phone. He’s texting frantically, his gaze never leaving the screen. Obviously, whatever his brother whispered has spooked him.
The waitress comes back with my wine, and I order the gnocchi, as she suggested. I notice the men’s room is right past where Luke is sitting, and I get up to head in that direction. When I walk past him, I can see his hands shaking. He picks up a call as I move by him.
“Where’s your brother?” I hear him ask. There’s a pause, then he asks, “And Nick?” Luke puts his head in his free hand. I know that Nick is Luke’s son. “Fuck!” he exclaims, “Get your mother and brother and drive to the country house. Stay there until you hear from me.” Another pause, then, “I don’t have time to explain. We messed up. It was our job to bring the woman and her son to Atilio, and she got away. Atilio is out of patience. Keep calling Nick, and if you get him, tell him to meet you. I’m going to see Atilio. If he has Nick, God knows what he’ll do to him just to make me suffer.”
I disappear into the men’s bathroom and text Falcon that Luke’s son Nick is involved now too. Then I go back to my table, only to find Luke gone. I throw a few bills on the table and make a quick exit. I need wheels. It’s not something I’m proud of, but hot-wiring an older car is another of my talents. It’s one that I don’t use often, but it comes in handy at times like this.
I call Falcon as I’m driving. “Has Luke shown up yet?”
“Not yet,” Falcon replies. “If we can get Nick and Luke, we can find out why they’re after Maria and Franco. What’s your ETA?” After doing thorough research, we know all about Luke’s family.
He’s heading in the direction of the garage, which isn’t far. I estimate another ten minutes or so. “Luke has a head start. You need to head him off before he goes inside. If what I overheard is true, Atilio won’t hesitate to kill him.”
“Got it,” Falcon responds. He disconnects, and I concentrate on driving.
As I get closer to the garage, I see Falcon’s vehicle, but Falcon’s not inside. I stop the car, get out, and move as quietly as I can toward his vehicle. As I approach, Falcon calls my name in a loud whisper. He’s in an alley, and with him is an unconscious Luke.
“What the hell happened?” I whisper.
“He wouldn’t listen, so I had to knock him out,” Falcon replies. The headlights of another vehicle shine down the road, coming closer.
“I gotta get to Nick before he walks in there and gets himself killed.” I jog over to the hedge lining the edge of the property that is attached to the auto shop. The lights are on in the shop, which means that Atilio is waiting for him. When Nick steps out of his car, I see that he can’t be more than seventeen years old. When Nick starts for the entrance, I sneak up behind him, cover his mouth, and yank him back into a tight hold. He fights me, but he’s no match for my strength. I whisper in his ear, “We’ve got your father, kid. Keep quiet, and we’ll all live through the night.”
Nick turns his head to look at me and stops trying to wrestle his way out of my grip. I move my hand away from his mouth. “Dad?—”
I put my finger over my lips, motioning for him to keep his mouth shut, and move him toward Falcon, who is waiting for us with the motor running and Luke still mostly unconscious in the back. I shove Nick into the back seat, where his father is groaning as he comes around.
“Go,” I say. Falcon doesn’t waste any time getting the hell out of there.
“Who are you guys?” Nick asks, glancing between Falcon and me.
