Chapter 2 #2
Justin had been injured on a Ghost Ops mission. Shrapnel had ended up lodged close to his spine, and he’d been forced to retire.
“You look good,” Justin said.
“You, too.”
“It looks like marriage agrees with both of us.” Justin shook his head. “Never imagined we’d live long enough to get out, let alone find women to tame us.” His brown gaze swiveled to Rhys. “Rhys, man. Good to see you.”
“Hi, Justin. Nicer to see you here than the last time we crossed paths.”
Justin’s lips twitched. “Think it was in a barren hellhole of a valley in the Afghan highlands, so I agree.” They shook hands.
“Where’s the poor woman who agreed to marry you?” Vander asked.
“Alessandra. She’s gone shopping, but she’d love to have you and your wives over for a meal. She’s a hell of a cook.”
There was a loud woof and a brown dog of dubious heritage loped over, tail wagging.
“This is Pavarotti. Let me put him out back, and we’ll head into town. I know this great place for coffee. Plus, I have a little job to do. Hoping you can help me out.”
Not long later, they were sitting in a tiny coffee shop in central Taormina, excellent cappuccinos in hand, with a view over a bustling, cobblestone square. The three of them were crowded around a tiny table. He usually drank his coffee black, but Justin had told him cappuccino was for the morning.
“So, after I got out and healed up, I decided to travel to countries where people didn’t shoot at me.
” Justin sipped his coffee. “Came here to Sicily, was enjoying the pizza and sunshine, and I ran into Alessandra. Literally. I accidentally knocked her off her bicycle. She had a basket full of flowers, and they spilled everywhere. She was all fire and sass, cursing and spitting at me, hands waving in the air. She’s got long, black hair and killer curves.
I fell in love instantly.” He grinned. “Took me a while to talk her win her over. She’s a florist. I showed up with flowers for her every day and eventually wore her down. ”
“Happy for you, man,” Rhys said. “When you find the right woman, you know.”
Justin leaned back in his chair. “Never expected your brother to get married. Always knew he’d keep one foot in the game. It’s no surprise that Norcross Security is a success.” He stroked his bearded chin. “Never in a million years expected he’d marry a cop.”
“She keeps him on his toes.” Rhys smiled. “She’s just what he needed.”
“And I’m guessing you aren’t helping Alessandra at her florist shop,” Vander said.
His friend laughed. “No. I freelance. Nothing as big or fancy as your business. I do a few odd jobs for local businessmen and women. The mafia still try to flex their muscle once in a while, and I help some locals flex back.”
Vander frowned. “The mafia still have a strong presence here?”
“They aren’t what they once were, but the Cosa Nostra have a long history here.
Most of their activity is around Palermo.
They try to avoid the authorities and keep their heads down these days.
There are still a few players not to be messed with.
Luciano Navarro. He’s top of the pack. Old and mean.
He has a villa and compound outside of Taormina, and a small army patrolling it.
Stay out of his way while you’re here. He’s old school, and into respect and revenge. He can be ruthless.”
Vander knew the name, but had never crossed paths with the man.
“Vander had a small run-in with the mafia before we left home,” Rhys said, finishing off his coffee.
Vander took another sip of his. “Not sure the mafia would claim him. Messina is a young, self-entitled, spoiled dickhead. His father was mafia, and his kid has delusions of grandeur, even though he was born and bred in San Francisco.”
Rhys nodded. “Messina senior spoiled the kid rotten, and now Tommy wouldn’t know good business if it smacked him in the face.” Rhys grimaced. “The little punk tried to run drugs in San Francisco…using kids.”
“I disabused him of that notion.” Vander did his bit to keep the San Francisco streets clean. There was no way he’d have drugs in the hands of kids. Not if he could do something about it.
Rhys nodded. “Vander dismantled Tommy Messina’s op in three days, and humiliated him. No one will take the guy seriously. His father called Vander to apologize.”
Justin laughed. “Is poor Tommy crying in prison?”
Vander shook his head. “Unfortunately, no. We didn’t have enough evidence to make any charges stick. I took care of things myself.”
“Last I heard,” Rhys added, “ol’ Tommy was on vacation in Mexico, licking his wounds.”
“Still got that scary touch, Norcross.” Justin cocked his head. “Which is good, because now you can help me with a little job. In return, I’ll buy you lunch. Best ravioli on the island.”
“What’s the job?” Vander asked.
“My client has a sister. She’s being harassed by her ex, and the guy’s been escalating. Kicked her door down recently. His name’s Aldo Poletti. My client wants Poletti rattled, so he stays away from her.”
Rhys grinned. “Sounds fun.”
Vander sighed. “Plan?”
“The asshole always goes for coffee at the same time, same place, every morning. We’re going to abduct him, and I’m going to have a little chat with him.”
“A chat, huh?” Vander said.
“I’m a persuasive guy.” Justin looked at his watch. “He’s due to be walking down this very street in ten minutes. If we go a bit higher up the hill, we won’t have any witnesses.”
In Vander’s opinion, there was nothing worse than people who preyed on anyone weaker and more vulnerable than them. Especially a man preying on a woman he’d professed to once care about and love. Vander had no time for a man who thought he owned a woman, especially one who’d told him no.
Maybe doing something physical would help him purge this tension inside him.
He rose. “Let’s do it. This ravioli better be good, Clarke.”