Page 56 of Above ’N’ Beyond

Jamie thanked God at least Tony still had a sliver of common sense.

Not wanting to get between a capo and their lieutenant, Paulie and Nicky wisely kept their traps shut.

“Stick to the plan,” Jamie said with a calm he didn’t feel. “Put the gun away. Cuff the cop and tie up the driver. Like. We. Planned.”

“Do it, dumbass,” Tony hissed. “That’s an order.”

For a few more seconds, Marco’s upper lip twitched. The tension in the air was thicker than a C4 briquette. Reluctantly, Marco stuffed the gun back into his waistband. Jamie exhaled a mountain of relief.

“Get back in there,” Tony ordered Marco, hitching his head to the stolen Expedition.

Marco complied, but not before shooting Jamie a look that said it all.

He and Marco Ianetti were on a collision course, one that wouldn’t end well for one of them.

“We need to get out of here,” Jamie said to Tony. “Another truck could drive in any second and block our way out.” They needed to be long gone before that happened, and they still had to meet Sammy at the storage unit and unload the bottles.

“Move.” Jamie tipped his chin to the detectives, keeping the muzzle of his gun on them. “Into the woods. Try to run, and the dog will take you out. Understand?”

Steve and Artie exchanged worried looks, then nodded.

To make sure nothing else unexpected happened, Jamie followed as Nicky and Paulie shoved Steve and Artie into the woods, then cuffed Steve with his own handcuffs and tied Artie up with duct tape and rope.

“Search ’em,” Jamie said. “Take any keys and cell phones.”

The other men did as ordered, tugging a set of keys from Steve’s pocket and unclipping cell phones—burners Steve and Artie had switched out for their real phones—from both their belts.

None of the other men knew Jamie had prearranged with Steve to use that old academy trick and tape a spare handcuff key to the inside of Steve’s belt. Within seconds after they drove off with the stolen truck, the detectives would be free and searching for the cell phone Jamie had stashed last night behind a rock near the cutoff.

Lifting his shirt, Jamie stuffed the old revolver into his waistband. “Stay here until we’re gone, and I won’t shoot you.”

“You piece of shit,” Artie growled. “You won’t get away with this.”

Jamie snorted. “I just did.”

Now the only question was whether what he’d done was good enough to keep Paola from kicking him to the curb. Or worse.

Chapter Eighteen

Sounds of pots and pans banging around in the kitchen filtered into the private banquet room. Bella glanced at the door, gripping the rail of the ladder tighter. The door was locked, and only she, Paola, and Tony had a key to this room.

On the off chance one of them came in while she was up on the ladder, she’d tucked a packet of replacement bulbs in her pocket, ready to lie her butt off and claim she was changing out some of the dead bulbs in the light strands.

Discreetly getting these cameras in place, so she could test them out well in advance of whatever special meeting Paola had planned for next week, had proven more difficult than she’d thought. Now, with the dinner seating only thirty minutes off, the Bistro’s staff was busy setting tables, filling salt shakers, and doing any number of things necessary for a restaurant to function.

She adjusted the ladder, moving it as close as possible to the corner of the room. The building was old, built in the mid-1800s with high ceilings and original stamped-tin tiles.

Part of her still couldn’t believe she was doing this—spying on her own family. James Bond she wasn’t, but two of the puppy cams were already in position, plugged into the corner outlets and carefully concealed by potted silk ferns.

She pinched the bridge of her nose. This might very well be her one and only opportunity to gather information she could use to bargain with, but she still didn’t know if she actually had the courage to go through with it.

Leverage. That’s all this was. A bargaining chip.

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Who was she kidding? This is blackmail. Pure and simple. If there was ever going to be a way for her to force Paola’s hand, that’s what it would take.

Don’t chicken out now.

After blowing out a loud breath, she wrapped the cord of the last camera around her hand so she wouldn’t drop it, then climbed up the ladder. The ceiling was so high she could barely reach the electrical outlet in the corner above the ledge.