Chapter 4
SILAS
Leonore does not look the slightest bit impressed to see me waiting for her in the parking lot again.
She steps out of the car with a takeaway coffee and her handbag. My eyebrows furrow as she practically ignores me while locking her car and walking toward the building.
Beyond the private building is a less-frequented graveyard that spreads across rolling hills. It only makes me more interested in this woman who adamantly refuses to work with me and is undisturbed by what most would consider creepy.
She doesn’t say anything but leaves the door open behind her, as if silently and begrudgingly letting me in. She begins switching on the lights, and when I go to speak, she raises a hand, silencing me.
“Not until I’ve finished my coffee.” My eyebrows furrow. This fucking woman.
“Don’t you think your services are—”
She cuts me a scathing glare, and I see it. The death in her eyes if I speak again, and much to my surprise, I try to hide the smirk because she reminds me of my sister when she hasn’t had her morning coffee either.
It’s strange to see the usually put-together mortician look somewhat … human. Though she’s still definitely put together, with her hair in a tight braid and her all-black attire.
She takes one more sip and makes an exasperated “Ah” noise before pinning me with a glare.
“I distinctly remember saying I didn’t want to see you.”
I lean against the doorframe of her office and cross my arms over my chest. “Yes, as well as other things that I chose to ignore.” I pull out an envelope and throw it down on her desk.
“Oh no, that’s done at reception.”
“This is your portion. I’ll have one of my men drop off the rest. I want that body.”
She looks at the envelope. I can tell someone like Leonore has particular systems in place to keep her safe. After all, dealing with the four families is no easy feat. Ask all those who are sprinkled in the graves behind this very building.
She ignores it and walks past me toward her prep room. Once again, I silently follow her. She puts on some gloves and heads over to the morgue cooler.
“Now I just need to confirm the body you’re here for,” she says, as if it were a business deal. When she opens the cooler, she watches me expectantly.
“Is this some kind of joke?” I ask, irritated now. I can deal with a little attitude, but disrespecting me in such an obvious way will get anyone fucking killed.
“Excuse m—” The moment her eyes look at the empty body tray, her jaw hardens. “That… That can’t be.” Her eyebrows knit together. “I saw it here yesterday.”
My stomach begins to sink as I watch her frantically pull open multiple doors and check the bodies inside—none of which belong to my uncle.
“How does a body just suddenly disappear?” I grit through clenched teeth.
I promised my sister and my crew that we would give Pietro the respect he deserves, and this nightmare of a woman has lost the goddamn body.
“They don’t. Not in my morgue,” she growls, giving me a fierce glare. “Only my assistant and I have access to this place.” She slams the cooler door closed and rips off her gloves.
“And where is your assistant?” I demand, walking behind her.
One of the families has to be behind this.
“She’s visiting family in New York this week. And don’t even get some grand ideas. She doesn’t even like looking at the bodies, let alone touching them.” There’s a dangerous and protective edge to her tone.
She hurries toward her office and I follow her.
“Don’t walk away from me; I’m not done with—”
She turns and faces me, a heated flush over her cheeks. “I don’t have time for your macho shit, okay. Bodies don’t go missing. Not here. Not under my care. I’m checking my cameras.”
My jaw locks. The balls of this woman to speak to me like that. But I bite my tongue and follow her into the office.
She opens her laptop while I watch over her shoulder.
She shifts slightly, so she can see me in her peripherals, as if she doesn’t like anyone standing behind her.
“At midnight last night, all of the cameras went blank…” she says.
“They’ve been hacked,” I tell her.
“No shit,” she snaps. Her fierce irritation takes me aback.
It’s not her uncle, but this feels more like the breaking of the things she has structured in place.
If one person does it, others might try it too.
“Who the fuck? I had the best security installed. This has never happened.” It’s only there for a split second, but I see the panic take over, before her expression is clear again.
Ten minutes after the footage originally cuts out, it’s reinstated on all eight cameras as if nothing happened.
She stands from her desk and begins pacing back and forth on the floor, biting at the tip of her nail.
“I was here on Sunday. You were the only one who visited. Everything’s where it’s meant to be.
Not even the locks are broken.” She comes to a stop, and her eyebrows sink.
But if she’s come to a conclusion, she’s not sharing it.
“Who brought the body in?” I demand.
Her gaze slides to mine. “I can’t share that information.”
“Who?” I demand. My temple pulses. I promised my crew I’d bring him home. I’m not wasting time with anymore pleasantries. “Which fucking family?”
Her gaze is scathing, and I give her credit. When most would at the very least flinch, she only sneers. She collects the envelope of money and throws it at me. I catch it at my chest.
“I don’t know. I’ll find that fucking body, though.” She’s all venom.
“How do you not know!” I demand.
“Cash exchange,” she reminds me. “No questions. Just get the job done. The person who brought the body in was covered and wearing a mask. I don’t ask questions. I choose who I do and don’t work with.”
“How much did they give you?”
“That’s classified,” she snaps, and I scoff, looking up at the ceiling.
Then again, wanting to compare what my uncle’s body was worth doesn’t get me anywhere either.
Although it’s inconvenient, I believe she doesn’t know.
In fact, the only reason she’s probably giving me this much information is simply because she knows she’s fucked up.
I slam the envelope of money down on the desk. “I own you now.”
“Like fuck you do,” she bites out, and I slide around the desk to face off with her.
She’s five foot five but juts her chin out with a defiance that could have her standing among giants.
“And what do you think will happen when word gets out that bodies can suddenly go missing here? That your system here is penetrable. Won’t that be bad for business? For you.”
She scowls, and I know I’ve hit the mark. This woman is clever and, for some reason, she knows how the families operate. I’ve never cared about bodies getting burials before, but when it becomes personal, I do.
“I’ll have one of my men be in touch. We’re not done here. When I call, you answer.”
“Like fuck I do.” I ignore her because anyone in their right mind would know that’s not a request. Her reluctant alliance might be the only thing that keeps her protected, because if I wanted word to get out on the streets, it could ruin her.
But I suspect whoever is behind this knew I’d end up at her morgue and understood she wouldn’t give me the body for at least two days. They’ve baited me, only to steal the body. Why, I’m not sure. Perhaps to cover up the evidence. Maybe it should’ve never made its way here in the first place?
I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Valen. He answers immediately. “Boss, how did your little date go with Grim? Did you get—”
“His body has gone missing.”
Silence.
“What? How? Who?”
“I want you watching Leonore Graves, personally. Watch her movements.” I hate to admit it, but whoever did this cleaned up their tracks.
I realize with clarity that Jacob Wolka might not have been the killer at all but only a distraction.
The only other information I’ve been able to gather about my uncle’s death is that he was seen at one of his favorite bars two hours before I received an anonymous call to tell me that Pietro Vescari was dead.
The voice was distorted, and the call was abruptly cut. No further information or demand. One of the four families is playing a dangerous game, and they won’t make it out alive.
An eye for an eye.