After clearing the first floor, they went upstairs. While Stuart cleared the second floor, Simone retreated into the bathroom to change into fresh clothes. After she packed two suitcases, Luciano and Stuart carried them downstairs. As Stuart loaded the suitcases into the Range Rover, Luciano’s phone pinged.
He opened the tracking app. “Newburg is on the move.”
He showed Simone. “Looks like he’s going to work,” she said.
Into the car they went.
“Are we headed to your company?” she asked.
“We’re going to Springfield.”
“What’s there?” she asked.
“A chemical supply company run by Igor Stachko. He supplies materials to bomb enthusiasts.”
“Nice. How’d you get his name?”
“From Carlo Garibaldi.”
“The head of the Garibaldi crime family?”
“We were rivals. After I left, we became close.”
Simone wasn’t going to ask any more questions. Sometimes less was more, especially when it came to her criminal boyfriend.
Luciano’s phone rang, he answered. A work-related problem that snagged his attention allowed Simone to review the notes she’d made on her phone. Thirty-minutes later, Stuart drove into an industrial section of Springfield, pulled into a lot and parked. They made their way toward Stachko Chemical Supply Company.
As soon as Stuart opened the door, the stench of chemicals made her grimace. The pungent odor aside, she couldn’t wait to see Luciano in action. How would he get Mr. Stachko to talk?
Luciano smiled at the receptionist. “I’m looking for Mr. Stachko.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Do I need one?” Luciano replied.
The woman glanced at Simone. “Didyoumake an appointment?” Her haughty attitude caught Simone by surprise.
What a B.
“This is my boss, Joelle James,” Luciano said.
The woman swallowed. “Sorry.” She rose. “Let me check with Igor. What’s your name?”
“Malvagio Peccatore.”
She hurried off and Luciano murmured, “How am I doing, boss?”
“Smooth, charming.” Simone shot him a little smile. “Perfect.” Then, she turned toward him, lowered her head, and whispered, “Cameras everywhere.”
“Saw them.”
A small man with spindly arms and wire-framed glasses too big for his narrow face joined them. He glanced at Simone, then at Stuart, settling on Luciano. “What can I help you with?”
“I have a business proposition for you, Mr. Stachko,” Luciano said.
“’Bout what?”
“I don’t conduct business in a lobby,” Luciano said. “Do you have five minutes?”
