“Yeah, well, what’s more bizarre is that out of all the bodies, the only other one missing is a woman.”
“What woman? There was no—” Michaela Dimakos, previously Michaela Giambrone. She’d been there that night in the red dress, but she’d run.
“Her body was picked up on the other side of the room. Must have been caught in the crossfire.”
“What was the woman wearing?”
“What the hell does it matter?” he asked, already dialing a number on his phone, most likely Ettore. He’d always beenlike that: multitasking at questioning while following blindly. He pressed the phone to his ear. “Yeah, tell me what the woman was wearing. Boss wants to know. Great. Thanks. We’ll be there in an hour and a half.”
He hung up. “A long red gown.”
“Merda! Cazzo! Porca miseria!” Shit! Fuck! Damn it! My fist slammed against the dashboard, pricks of pain shooting up my knuckles. The car momentarily swerved. It was her. I hadn’t accounted for her death. “So eleven dead, nine bodies recovered.”
As if to mock us, a phone call rang across the car speakers, the caller ID displayed: Francesco Giambrone.
“Think of the devil, and he shall appear,” I muttered as I pressed the answer button. “Giambrone, what can I do for you?”
“You killed someone of mine.”
I glanced at Vinny. I guessed we found who stole our bodies. It was interesting, though, that he’d taken the unidentified man too.
“Wasn’t intentional.”
“Still happened. So if you want to avoid a war, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to divorce the damn woman tomorrow,” he croaked. “Then you’ve got four days to get yourself to Vegas and marry my daughter.”
“Why do I feel like you’re not all that worked up about losing a daughter?”
“Listen to me, you little shit. I don’t care what kind of big shot you think you are. You won’t like what happens if you don’t show. Everything you just got back, I’ll take away. I’ll send you right back where you belonged. Or maybe I’ll take the girl.”
My fists tightened against the steering wheel, my arms shaking from the hold, my knuckles white.
“Try, and I’ll end you.”
I ended the call and made the next possible U-turn, sharp.
“Call Ettore back,” I told Vinny. “He’s not going to find anything, and we’re not wasting our time out there.”
“We staying in Newport for the night?”
I nodded. “I’ll check in on Massimo in Santa Rosa in the morning. We need information sooner rather than later. The sooner we were done with Dimakos, the sooner I could focus on getting Giambrone off my back.”
“You think Francesco’s bluffing?”
“Not sure. What I know is he thinks too highly of himself.”
The sooner I got home, the sooner I could check in with Ainsley. Whether a sham or not, Giambrone’s threat left me feeling uneasy.
“And call Ricco. Make sure Ainsley hasn’t left her hotel room since I left.”
Chapter 40
“Whatdidyouget?”I asked Massimo as I stalked into Tore’s basement the next morning, Natale on my heels. The stench of copper and piss hung over the pine-scented bleach used to clean this place.
Black, blue, and purple deformed Julius’ face. Blood wept from a corner of one eye. Sweat-oiled hair stuck in clumps to his head.
“Hadn’t I told you to leave him untouched?”
“Wouldn’t stop yelling nonsense. Had to find a way to shut him up.”
