Chapter 22 Giovanni
GIOVANNI
I drive from the airport to the cabin. I need to be in control. It’s the only way that I can unpack the thoughts and images raging around inside my head and reassemble them into a situation that is going to go my way.
Meggie and Amber.
Nikki.
Bianca.
Mario and the fucking Russian bratva.
And Enzo.
What the fuck was he doing in Vermont in the first place?
The obvious answer is that he was following Meggie. The second conclusion is that he’s working for The Fish, but neither of them has a starting point in my mind. Why? To get back at me for cutting him out of the family business?
Enzo has never shown any real interest in what we do. Besides, he has his own career and his own fortune. If the family business were ever to fall into his hands, it would be the last generation of Sabatellis to keep it afloat.
“Nothing.” Bruno has been trying to get hold of Ric and the security team, with no success. “My contact in the city is trying to pin down their most recent comms.”
This is the longest amount of time my team has been off grid.
My confidence isn’t quite as assured as it was when I first boarded the flight from LA, no thanks to Mario’s call.
The fucker thinks that he can trade my sister and get away with it.
I would have spared him his life over his indiscretions and his abuse, for the sake of his family, and the arrangement drawn up by our fathers. But not this.
I slam the heel of my palm against the steering wheel.
Focus. One thing at a time.
First Meggie, then I’ll deal with the bastardo and his bratva allies.
I pump the gas way beyond the legal limit, counting down the miles on the GPS system. Still too slow. It feels as though we’re driving through Jell-O, or a nightmare where water is creeping up the side of the car, and the wheels are turning, but we’re going nowhere.
Stowe is packed up for the night when we cross town along Main Street, the tourists either counting the z’s in their beds or getting rowdy in whatever hotel bars remain open. Regardless, I floor the gas pedal and ignore the traffic signals. Bruno’s contacts follow suit in the vehicles behind.
Ahead of us, the mountain slope is dark and silent.
My stomach lurches like we’re afloat as I cut the headlamps and crawl towards the cabin where Meggie and Amber were supposed to be enjoying a vacation away from the city. Away from danger.
The door to the cabin is wide open.
I kill the engine and assess the situation.
The cabins are all in darkness. There’s no movement, no sound, and we’ve received no signal from the team to alert us to any situation since Ric’s call regarding Amber’s sighting on the cable car ride.
So, either my team has chased The Fish to fuck knows where, or he caught them by surprise and ended it before it had even begun.
This team has been with me for years. They’re the best of the best; people I would, and have, trusted with my life. It takes a damn sight more than a fucking fish to end a school of deadly but loyal sharks.
Bruno and I spot the bloody body on the ground between cabins at the same time.
My eyes track the body’s form, the hair comes into focus, and I’m out of the car in a heartbeat.
Not Meggie. It isn’t my Meggie. It can’t be.
Enzo’s reaction on the CCTV footage reemerges behind my eyelids, slowing me down as I run towards the motionless person on the damp grass. He heard something, that much was obvious. He hadn’t discovered Meggie, and he must’ve believed that she was in danger, and that was why he bolted.
Bruno reaches the body first and assures me it isn’t Meggie. Crouching beside her, he checks her vital signs, lowering his face to her mouth despite the blackened patch of blood staining the front of her clothes.
“She’s hanging on. Barely.”
I spot a wad of cloth stuffed into the wound; someone tried to save her. Enzo maybe? She’s a fighter, just like Meggie.
“Get her airlifted to the closest hospital under our control. Whatever it takes.” I can’t bear the thought of Meggie losing her best friend.
Bruno is already on his feet and barking instructions to his men.
How did she get outside? Ric had given them strict instructions to stay inside and head to the bunker at the first sign of trouble, so what went wrong between him leaving them in the cabin and Nikki getting shot out here?
Did it involve Tommy Romano? Was she na?ve enough to believe that he would keep her safe?
I think back to her and Meggie sitting on the kitchen floor together. Best friends. Meggie must have forgiven her for selling her out, so I don’t believe that they had another fight.
The only alternative is that Nikki sacrificed herself for Meggie.
I kneel on the grass and rest my hand on top of Nikki’s, noting the Band-aid, and whisper in her ear, “Hang in there, Nikki.” It’s all I can do right now.
Standing, I slide my pistol out of my pocket and follow Bruno and his contacts inside.
We don’t flick the light switch. Even in the gloom, it looks exactly as it had when I watched Enzo ransacking the place. The men make their way methodically through each room in formation. No one speaks until we reach the guest room.
“I’m checking the bunker.” I’m already on my knees and rolling back the carpet to reveal the trapdoor that leads underground.
“You’re not going alone.”
Bruno lowers himself through the hatch before I can respond that I need to do this. I need to find Meggie. If the worst-case scenario has come to pass, I can’t bear the thought of anyone else finding her. She deserves better than that from me.
Following the weak arc of light from Bruno’s cell phone, I force myself to imagine my reunion with the woman I love. Her beautiful smile, her green eyes, and the way she blushes when I call her mio fiore. If I believe it, it will happen.
I punch in the code to grant us access to the bunker when we arrive at the solid metal door. My pulse is jumping like a grasshopper as Bruno opens the door and enters with his revolver primed, but my breath staggers like an alcoholic at closing time when we discover that it is empty.
I knew it. My gut was telling me that she wasn’t here, but I had to see for myself.
We turn around and head back upstairs where one of Bruno’s men is waiting for us by the trapdoor. “There’s something I think you should see.”
We follow him outside and around to the rear of the property where the trees offer privacy for the occupants from the vacation homes further up the slope.
My breath hitches, and bile rises in my throat when I spot the man hanging from the tallest tree like Jesus on the cross, arms tied to thick branches, head hanging over his chest.
I don’t need to get any closer to know that it is Ric.
His chest is riddled with bullets, and when Bruno lifts his head, there’s no mistaking who killed him. Ric’s eyes are hanging from their sockets, blood turning his features into a macabre Halloween mask.
“Get him down.” I turn away and head back towards the car.
There’s only one way The Fish would have gotten close enough to kill Ric. Two people have sacrificed themselves for Meggie, and I’m still one step behind the killer.
But not for much longer.