Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Dante
People scream and dive for cover.
The chair in which Naomi Foster’s corpse sits topples backward from the force of the blow that tore through her head.
Reino’s voice cuts through my earpiece. “Sniper!”
I grab Naomi’s bag and the lighter that fell on the table. The packet of cigarettes is still in her hand.
While people run in all directions, I walk with brisk strides to the northern exit. “Get fucking eyes on that sniper.”
Reino falls into step behind me. I catch his shadow that stretches over the ground before I scan the rooftops and windows.
“South,” Ulysses says. “Your six o’clock. He’s one of ours.”
The fuck?
I clench my fingers around the strap of the bag. “Cut his comms.”
Hysteria reigns. The park security isn’t equipped for the crisis. They try to calm the scrambling visitors but fail. I walk quietly through the stampede at the gates.
“He’s out,” Ulysses says. “I cut his link.”
I grind my teeth together. “Bring him to me. We’ll meet at the warehouse.”
The men stationed inside the park will make their own way out.
The van that would’ve transported Naomi Foster pulls away from the curb with screeching tires and disappears around the bend.
“Cameras?” I ask as my driver pulls up.
“We’re wiping them now,” Ulysses says.
I open the door and get into the front. “Fly our drones away from there.”
“Already done.”
“I want a status update when our men have cleared out.”
“Noted.”
Reino appears on the sidewalk. The moment he gets into the back, the driver takes off.
“Clear the comms,” I say. “The feds will be all over the scene in minutes. Use only a burner phone from now on.”
“Going dark,” Ulysses announces.
When the comms go dead, I yank out the earpiece.
“Damage control?” Reino asks.
“I’ll speak to my contact at the feds. If anyone asks, she came to me for help but was taken out before she had a chance to talk. I bailed because I didn’t want to get caught up in the mess.”
“I’ll pass on the message.”
I throw the bag on the back seat next to him. “Fuck.”
We don’t speak on the way to the warehouse. I’m too volatile.
We make it to the abandoned building in record time. I grab the bag from the back and chuck the lighter inside. My only lead to the fuckers who kidnapped Tatiana is dead. All I have to go on now is Naomi’s bag.
One of my men opens the warehouse door when Reino and I approach.
I throw the bag at him. “We need to go through that with a fine-tooth comb.”
Something may point us in the right direction, although the chances of finding anything are slim.
“Fuck.” I slam a fist against the wall, barely registering the pain that shoots up my knuckles. “What the fuck happened out there?”
Reino watches me from under his eyebrows. “Our men are bringing him in. They were right behind us.”
I pace the floor, violence building inside me with every step I take.
Not a minute later, the door opens, letting sunlight into the gloomy interior.
Two men drag Kent inside and force him onto his knees in front of me. When they remove his denim jacket, exposing his upper body for obvious reasons, he doesn’t resist or fight. He only fixes cool blue eyes on me.
I stare down at him, fighting the urge to crack his skull open before he gets a word out.
More men file into the warehouse. Someone closes the door. The inside is shrouded in shadows once more, only the yellow glow of a battery-operated lamp casting a circle of dust-ridden light around him.
My voice is icy. Controlled. “You killed Naomi Foster.”
He holds my gaze without wavering. “Whatever her name was.”
Reino steps behind him, ready to knife him down if I give the command, but that’s not a pleasure I’m going to give someone else.
“I didn’t give that order,” I snarl. “I also didn’t order you to be at the site.”
“You didn’t think I was going to let you walk into that trap and do nothing? You didn’t tell me what was going down.” His smile is wry. “You obviously don’t trust me, but I understand.”
“Is that right?” My voice is low and menacing. “I don’t think you do.”
“Before you suspect one of your guys of snitching, let me put that straight. I heard the men on my round when they prepared to move out.”
I flex my fingers and curl them into fists. “And then you took it upon yourself to join them.”
“Yes.”
Bending down to his level, I smile a sardonic smile. “Why would that be?”
“I’m your best sniper, and you know it.”
I straighten. “So you wanted to protect me.”
His upper lip curls. “She was going to shoot you.”
“With what?” An ugly laugh leaves my lips. “With her fingers?”
“She had a lighter pistol.”
“A lighter pistol?” Reino says.
Kent strains his neck to look at Reino. “I was trained to recognize camouflaged weapons. When she made a move to open it, I took the shot.”
And like the showoff he is, he didn’t go for the chest like snipers are trained to do.
No, he had to go for the head, proving to every fucking cop in the state what a good shot he is.
Few people have his aim. It won’t take them long to figure out who would’ve been capable of firing with such precision.
“Bring the lighter to me,” I instruct, not moving my eyes off of Kent. “It’s in the bag.”
The man to whom I gave the bag goes through it, takes out the lighter, and holds it out to me. I snatch it from his fingers, still in a stare-off with Kent. If he knows how close I am to crushing him, he won’t look so smug.
Silence falls over the room. Everyone’s attention is glued to the lighter as I flip back the lid.
Motherfucker.
Look at that.
A twenty-two-caliber bullet sticks out from the one-inch barrel that’s screwed into the pistol designed to fit in the zippo holder. I’ve heard about lighter pistols, but I’ve never seen one for myself.
There isn’t a lot of maneuvering space between the barrel and the trigger. I aim at a sandbag that leans against the wall and pull the trigger, careful not to touch the barrel with my thumb. The shot goes off louder than I expected it to, the bullet tearing into the bag.
Sand filters through the hole the bullet has ripped in the hessian fabric. I crouch down and turn the bag over.
The bullet hasn’t gone straight through. It would’ve traveled at four hundred and twenty feet per second, but out of a one-inch barrel, the speed was probably less. Still, if that bullet had hit me in the heart or head, it could’ve done serious damage—enough to kill me.
I drop the bag and straighten.
The door opens.
Ulysses walks in. “We had to take a few backroads to avoid a roadblock.” He moves his gaze to Kent. “What did I miss?”
I throw him the lighter pistol.
He catches it in midair, frowning as he examines it.
“She had that on her,” I say.
Ulysses looks at me. “Nice piece of work.”
“Who sells pistols like those?”
“No one I know,” he says.
Kent speaks up. “It’s handmade.”
Ulysses turns the zippo case over. “There’s a mark on the bottom, like a signature.”
“Find out what you can.” I return to my place in front of Kent. “Reino, Ulysses, stay. The rest of you can go except for the team keeping watch outside.”
The men holding Kent down releases him and leave with the others. He doesn’t move. He knows that will be a mistake. He remains kneeling on the floor until the door closes behind the last man.
When there’s just the four of us left, I speak. “Get up.”
He climbs to his feet.
I look him straight in the eyes. “Did you kill Naomi Foster so she couldn’t tell me who kidnapped my wife?”
I can’t even say Tatiana’s name in front of him. It will feel like a sacrilege.
His expression is full of bravado and pride. “I shot her because I saw a risk. I did what I’d sworn to do when I joined your outfit—to protect you.”
I tilt my head. “That’s very loyal.” And a bit too convenient.
“I told you the truth.” His arms hang away from his body, his hands balled into fists.
“Mrs. Morici ran when she saw her chance. I had nothing to do with her escape. You’re pushing the wrong man away, Dante.
Yes, I know you’ve been keeping me on the sidelines because you no longer trust me.
But you’re right about one thing. I am loyal.
I’m loyal to you, and I’m loyal to Lee’s memory. ”
At the sound of my brother’s name on his lips, I grind my teeth. I don’t stop him, though. Now that he’s on a roll, I give him rope.
“What happened today proves my loyalty,” he continues. “What would’ve happened if I weren’t there?”
Another sardonic smile stretches my lips. “I guess we’ll never know.”
“I can tell you.” He takes a step closer. “She would’ve used that weapon and shot you, and you would’ve been dead.”
“That’s harsh.” I cluck. “Or wishful thinking. I could’ve been wounded.”
“She set a trap,” he says more forcefully. “Why else did she take that pistol out of her bag?”
“Maybe as a weapon of self-defense in case I were to attack her?” I muse with mocking.
He narrows his eyes. “What are you saying? That I’m lying about Tatiana’s escape?”
I take the knife from the holster under my jacket and step right up to him. “I’m saying those coincidences are just a bit too convenient.” Gripping his nape in one hand, I push the knife into his belly while bringing my lips to his ear. “And I don’t believe in coincidences.”
His eyes go wide as I slowly pull out the knife. When I let him go, he stumbles. Cupping the cut where the blood pours out, he sinks back onto his knees.
I go forward, standing over him. “And that was the last time you disrespected her by addressing her with familiarity. It’s Mrs. Morici to you.”
He stares at the blood gushing over his fingers. “Fuck.”
Lifting his head, he looks between Reino and Ulysses.
Neither of them moves. They both watch him with emotionless expressions.
“In fifteen minutes, you’ll be dead. I’m going to watch you bleed out. That gives us enough time to have a last man to man. If you ever gave a shit about Lee, this is your chance to honor him by coming clean.”
Laughing, he spits at my feet.
Reino moves forward, but I block him with my arm.
Ulysses appears next to me, saying in a lowered voice, “You should’ve tortured him. He could’ve told us something useful.”
“He wouldn’t have broken.” I know him too well.
“Fuck you,” Kent shouts, spittle flying from his mouth. “Fuck all three of you, you cunts.”
“Do you want me to take his tongue?” Reino asks. “It’s of no use to us anyway.”
I smile. “Let him scream. I’m going to savor it.”
“You made a mistake.” Kent goes red in the face. “A huge fucking mistake.”
Beneath all that anger, his skin is already turning pasty white. Sweat beads on his forehead.
“What happened, Kent?” I walk around him, tapping the bloody knife against my thigh.
“Did you get greedy? Did splitting the spoils lose its sparkle for you? Did you decide it was better to pocket more of it for yourself? Money can do strange things to people. It can make them forget their promises and their friends. Did you orchestrate the kidnapping, or where you just the instrument, the sorry idiot someone else used?”
He regards me with defiance, not saying a word.
“Do you know the old story of the rich man who built a splendid tomb for his beloved wife?” I circle him again and stop behind him.
“As the years passed, he filled it with treasures and finally made it his own dwelling, forgetting the love that inspired it.” I grip his hair and pull back his head until he meets my gaze.
“You see, Kent, some people are like that wealthy man. They think they love, but they only love themselves. They’re nothing like the men whose honor never dies.
” I let him go with a shove. “You fall into the first category.”
He stares at me with hate. “Go fuck yourself, Dante. I hope you never find the necklace.”
“Oh, I will.” I walk around and face him once more. “When I do, I’ll leave a stone on your grave, a nice big diamond to haunt you with the knowledge that there’s nothing to spend it on where you’ll be rotting in the ground.”
He tries to spit on my shoes again but misses.
My laugh only infuriates him more.
He pushes to his feet and storms at me. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Ulysses grabs his arm. “Easy now. You’ll want to save your strength. You don’t have much of that left.”
“Fuck you all,” he screams.
I stay until the end. Until then, he chooses to keep his mouth shut. I always knew he’d never break, not under torture and not under a knife. I just never expected him to betray me.
When the light goes out in his eyes, I walk to the door. “Send someone to his place to get his dog. He lived alone. There’s no one to feed it.”
“Yes, boss,” Reino says.
“While they’re there, they can search his apartment.”
Ulysses opens the door for me. I walk into the late afternoon sun. There’s a chill in the air. Or maybe it’s in my heart. Maybe I’m the one who’s forgetting like the rich man in the story, neglecting Lee’s memory in lieu of the people who are very much alive.