Chapter 19
Nineteen
Jaxson
I’ve spent the past day making sure all security tech and weapons are transported to the hangar where Dante’s team lands.
I’ve also secured them an eight-passenger SUV and had the gear loaded into the trunk, along with a laptop.
That was the least of my problems, Dante also asked me to dig into the custody situation for him.
Jack and Catrina are fighting for full-custody of Harper’s son, Zeke.
How does this concern me? Dante insisted I run every background check imaginable, dig up dirt, find something on Harper’s parents so that he could presumably use it for blackmail and have them drop the custody suit.
The problem is they’re perfectly clean, albeit they don’t have the best credit score, and their savings account is low, but it’s not enough to convince a judge that they’re not worthy legal guardians or to blackmail them over.
What had Dante hoped to find?
Did he suspect that Jack, who is a manager for Blue Sky Resort, was embezzling money from his job? There aren’t any hefty deposits; they clearly live paycheck-to-paycheck.
My phone buzzes on my desk and I recognize the caller I.D. and grumble.
“Hey, Dante. What can I do for you?” I swear I’d love to be rid of him, but his power and influence extend far beyond Breckenridge.
“I need another favor.”
I laugh under my breath. “Of course, you do. We’re at three, is it now?”
“Not that anyone’s counting,” Dante grumbles. “The surveillance equipment, excellent stuff. I need something a little more illegal.”
Does he think the high-tech shit I gave him was legal? It dropped off the back of a government contractor’s van.
“What do you need?”
“There are cameras inside DeLuca’s compound. The location you gave me, spot on.”
“Of course, it was,” I say, not the least bit surprised by either of those comments. “Let me guess, you want access to the footage inside the compound?”
I already have Declan working on hacking the infrastructure and getting past the firewall. For him, it’s just another day at the office; for me, asking him to do not only something illegal but for the Riccis, it makes me physically ill.
But he doesn’t know the specifics, and he never will. One of the benefits of working for me, he’ll never take the fall for the illegal shit I do for Dante. I keep my men clean and protected.
I swear I can hear the smile in Dante’s voice. “Video, audio, I want whatever there is available. We need to see where they’re keeping Harper and Luca.”
Pursing my lips, I’m well aware Luca is Dante’s son.
“Luca is with them?” I ask, not believing what I’m hearing. I hang my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. This is going to get messy. Dante would start a war for going after Harper, but his only heir—
He’d burn the world to protect his son.
And anyone who gets in his way is dead.
The last thing I want is to stand in Dante Ricci’s way when he goes to slaughter the DeLucas.
“My son decided to go in and save his wife.”
There’s a coldness to his tone, a hint of defiance, and I suspect Luca is more like Dante than both of them realize.
“I already have my best guy working on access to the footage,” I say.
“Well, work faster. Harder.” Dante’s irritation is impossible to ignore. I don’t, however, want it directed at me. “Fuck!”
I hold my breath for a fraction of a second. I don’t want to ask what’s wrong, but he answers before I even have time.
“Turn on the fucking television.” Dante is irate, and I reach for the remote. In the corner of the room, affixed to the wall, is a television. I turn the device on, watching as the local news broadcast displays a Breaking News alert.
On the left side of the screen is a recent picture of Harper Ricci, her name under the photograph. On the opposite side, her parents doing a press conference, begging for her to be returned.
“Our daughter, Harper, was taken last night. She has blonde hair, dark-brown eyes. She’s nineteen years old, a mother, she wouldn’t have run off and left her son behind or her husband.
We’re offering a reward of fifty thousand dollars for the safe return of our daughter, Harper.
If anyone knows or has seen anything, please come forward.
Harper, if you can see this, please come home.
Please know that we won’t stop looking for you, Harper, searching for you.
We love you, Harper. Your son, Zeke, loves you, Harper. He misses his mother.”
I notice the overuse of her first name, typical in abductions, trying to humanize her, in case the perpetrator is watching the news.
There’s no mention of Luca’s disappearance or abduction. Are her parents unaware or strictly only concerned about Harper’s well-being? And how the hell are they offering a fifty-thousand-dollar reward when their bank accounts don’t have anything close to five figures, let alone six?
Except Jack McKenna has a retirement fund from Blue Sky Resort. I grab the file, glancing through the papers that I’ve dug up on Harper’s father.
He must be planning on cashing in his retirement if they find Harper.
I mute the television, the closed-captioning popping up at the bottom of the screen. “I have to say, I’m surprised you’re running this with the news stations. I would have thought you’d have wanted to keep the whole situation quiet and handle it discreetly.”
There’s a dark, sinister laugh that vibrates through the phone. “Do you think this was up to me? The fucking McKennas went behind my back. Not only are they going to fight for custody of Zeke, but they’re also interfering in our rescue attempt. They’re going to get their daughter killed!”
“The rescue attempt that involved getting your son abducted?” I quip. I should know better than to piss off a mafia boss, but sometimes I can’t help myself.
“Are you going to help me or what?”
“I will get you a link to the live footage within the hour,” I say.
Declan better have it hacked and accessible without anyone noticing.
“And what about the McKennas? Anything I can use to stop them from trying to take Zeke from us? I need something dark, off the books type of stuff. They threatened to file for sole custody.”
He wants blackmail material.
“They’re a little too squeaky clean. Not so much as a traffic violation for either one of them.”
“Come on, Jaxson, you can do better than that,” he says.
I know what he’s asking for, but I refuse to soil my reputation or land in prison for his dirty work. “I’m not making up shit and putting it on a file for you to use at a hearing against them.”