“Tell me some good news. Tell me you fucking found her,” I say eagerly.
“Not yet, my friend. But my men managed to capture someone who might know where your Victoria is.”
“Who?” I ask, cocking a brow.
“Connor Doherty.”
The name has me up on my feet in a split second. Holy shit, they captured Nolan’s right-hand man. We’ve been questioning Nolan’s lackeys, killing them off one by one when they come up empty-handed, but Connor Doherty is a gamechanger. If anyone would know where Victoria is, it would be him. Doherty has to have the information we need.
“They’re taking him down to the basement as we speak,” Baz informs me. “I’m sure you’ll be able to get him to sing like a canary.”
I give Baz a single nod. I’ll get Doherty to sing all right. I’ll get him to tell me all of Nolan’s secrets before he leaves this world for good tonight.
* * * * * * *
I HAVEN’T BEEN in the basement of this mansion since Victoria and I used to sneak down here when we were kids. We were innocent back then, having no idea of the true horrors that befell upon this part of the property.
Now, it’s thirteen years later, and I’m the one doing the dastardly deeds her father used to do down here.
Wiping sweat from my brow, I take in the deformed face of Connor Doherty. Baz’s men had roughed him up before we made it down here. And even though I’ve been at this for almost two hours now, and the guy has more broken bones than I can count, he still has yet to crack.
Doherty is short and stout in stature. The full mop of hair on his head is ginger, and it matches his thick, wiry beard. He’s older, probably in his late forties or early fifties, and loyal as fuck.
Usually I would appreciate such loyalty, but not in this situation. He’s wasting precious time. Time that I simply do not have. Time that could be spent finding Victoria and getting swift justice for her kidnappers.
Looking over the various tools that Ciccone once used and trying to decide what I should use next, since pulling out all of his fingernails one by one didn’t work, Doherty hacks and spits blood onto the floor. He remains quiet and still in the chair. But it’s not like he could move even if he wanted to with the amount of rope tying him down.
“We have a sayin’ in the Irish mob,” he says, slurring his words through broken teeth. “Eye for an eye. You wrong us; we’re going to wrong you the same damn way. Taking the girl wasn’t personal. It’s just fecking business.”
Turning to him, I tell him, “Then you should have taken Ciccone’s life and not gone after his daughter.”
“Going after Ciccone himself would have been a stupid move, and you know it. His daughter is where it would hurt him the most. Family is the only thing valuable to a mob man.” He spits more blood on the floor, and a piece of his tooth bounces around on the concrete. “Why isn’t Ciccone down here anyway? Why is it you doin’ this?”
I smirk at his questions. “I guess newsdoesn’ttravel fast these days. Ciccone is dead. I put a bullet between his eyes,” I answer.
Doherty’s dark eyes widen a fraction before narrowing. “So you’re…”
“That’s right. I’m the new boss.”
Doherty throws his head back and cackles. “You’re a little young to be fillin’ the britches of a mob boss, ain’t you, boy?”
That earns him a punch square in the jaw. My knuckles burn with the pain of hitting bone on bone, but the hurt feels so damn good. Anything to distract me from thoughts of Victoria and what’s happening to her is welcome right now.
“Let’s try this again,” I say, taking a step back to where the tools are spread out before me. “But this time more painfully…and slowly,” I tell him with a smirk.
Returning with a hammer, I sit down on a metal stool next to the man. “We both know you’re not getting out of here alive,” I explain to him. “So, the quicker you tell me what I want to know…the quicker I will end your life. You’re just prolonging the inevitable here.”
Instead of cowering beneath me like most men would, Doherty actually cocks his chin up in defiance.
Fuck, this is getting us nowhere. Frustrated, I throw the hammer across the room. The loud thud as it hits the wall echoes in the room.
Baz steps forward to intervene, but I put up a hand to stop him. I just need to think right now. There has to be something I’m missing. Something that will break the man sitting in this room who has the information I need.
And that’s when it hits me, like a wrecking ball crashing right through a plaster wall. I think back to what he said earlier…
Family is the only thing valuable to a mob man.
Doherty told me his secret, and he didn’t even realize it. And now I suddenly know just how to make him talk. Turning to Baz, I say, “Give me his wallet.”
