1
Maximo
I’m sittingat my desk in the library talking with Trenton about his expanded duties now that he’s being promoted to captain when my cell phone buzzes on the desk between us. Seeing that it’s Tony calling, I hold up a finger to silence Trenton and answer immediately. “What do you need?” I ask without preamble.
“Maximo! It’s Tony. I’m outsideGino’s waiting on your girl Constance, just like you asked.”
“Is everything all right?” I try not to let my irritation show in my voice. Talking to Tony is always slow and frustrating.
“Something’s going on, boss! An ambulance just pulled up right at the curb, followed by two patrol cars. The police went rushing in and now they’re rolling a gurney inside.”
I can hear the sirens in the background over the phone, and grind my teeth together. “Get in there right now and check on Constance! Find out what the hell is going on and call me right back!”
“Yeah, yeah, of course, Maximo. I’m on it,” I hear Tony say before I disconnect the call.
It’s all I can do not to throw my phone through the window. I stand in the middle of my library, trembling, breathing like I’ve run a marathon. I’m too angry with Tony to think coherently. I know how dangerous that can be in my position, so I force myself to regulate my breathing and calm down.
“Maximo, what’s going on? What’s wrong with…what do you need me to do?” Trenton stutters the questions.
I toss back the dregs of my drink and stare balefully at him while trying to resist the urge to smash my whiskey glass into the fireplace. I’ve never been known for my patience, and waiting for Tony to speak to the emergency responders and call me back has my blood pressure pounding in my ears. The expression on my face must be unsettling. Trenton keeps shifting in his seat.
“Are any of your men here with you?” I finally snap at him after stewing over all the terrible possibilities of what could be happening to Constance.
“Yeah. My boy, Joey Lamb, drove me over. We were gonna get drinks later.”
“I remember him. He’s the shooter that helped Enzo and me with the Sandini incident a few years back, right?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He’s good people, quiet and reliable.”
“Go get him and warm up the truck. As soon as I hear from Tony…ah, speak of the devil,” I add as my phone ringing interrupts my orders. “Go get him and wait in the truck. I’ll be down in a moment.”
“What did you find out?” I demand as soon as I answer the call.
“Something happened, boss!” Tony begins in a high, panicked voice I barely recognize. “They wheeled this girl out on a stretcher, some red-headed chick who said her name was Melissa. I think she’s the one Constance was supposed to meetup with. Her face was all fucked up; she was telling a cop that two big guys came in and pulled guns on them, grabbed Constance, and whipped the shit out of her before running out the back with your woman.”
The whiskey in my stomach turns. It feels like it’s about to violently explode from me. I swallow the bile down and try to think. “What else do you know? Do you have any description of the men, or did Melissa mention if they said anything?”
It has to be fucking Irina Volkov. She came for her revenge; now Constance is going to pay the price if we don’t find her fast.
“I didn’t get a chance to ask her anything, really, Maximo. They were wheeling her out while a cop was trying to talk to her, and they loaded her up to take her over to Mount Sinai.”
“Head over that way. I’ll meet you there and we’ll see if she knows anything else, then make a plan.”
“Boss, I’m sorry about this, I…”
“Save it,” I interrupt him. “Get to the hospital and do what I told you,” I add as I end the call.
I quickly make my way outside to where Trenton and Joey are already waiting in a black Ford Expedition.
Climbing into the back seat behind Trenton, I give a brief nod to Joey, the driver. “Take us to Mount Sinai. Tony said…he said two guys grabbed Constance fromGino’s. They smacked her friend, Melissa, around. We need to talk to her and find out if she can tell us anything useful about the kidnappers.”
“Jesus wept,” Trenton drawls as he pulls out a vape and hits it, then cracks his window to exhale a cloud of sweet-smelling fumes.
Joey doesn’t say anything. With a shake of his head, he drops the SUV into gear and begins the drive into the city. We sit in silence for most of the trip. For my part, I’m lost in thoughts of what horrors Constance might be undergoing, and the gnawinghelplessness of the situation burning in my stomach. She has to be okay. She has to.
When we arrive at Mount Sinai, I see Tony’s massive frame practically blocking the emergency room doors. “Drop us there,” I instruct Joey, pointing toward Tony. “Go park and hang out. We’ll text you to pick us up when we’re done.”
“Gotcha,” Joey replies as he maneuvers through the parking lot.
