by Misty Evans
Alfie raised a brow at Olivia before turning to face her father. “You’re Olivia’s dad?”
Her father took a step closer to Alfie, pointing a finger in his face. “You and me got things to set straight. I know my Livvy has feelings for you, and I’m here to make sure you ain’t pulling a fast one on her.”
Dad was on board with her game. Thank God.
Alfie raised his hands in an act of surrender. “I’ve got nothing but respect for the lady. She’s good people.”
Felix got right in Alfie’s face. “You sleeping with her?” He shot Olivia a fierce look, acting the part of an enraged father. “You’re sleeping with this mutt? I thought you had better judgment.”
For a moment, her mind flashbacked to Johnny Valducie and the bawling out the poor kid had taken from her dad, only now she was nearly thirty years old and the man in question was a dangerous mobster.
She came down another few steps. “Daddy! I’m a grown woman. If I want to sleep with Alfie, that’s my business and nobody else’s.”
Alfie’s eyes went big as saucers. Frankie seemed to itch to get away from the family drama. He set his glass of liquor on the foyer table. “Alfonzo, it appears I came at a bad time. Let’s continue this discussion in my office first thing tomorrow morning.” He headed for the door, nodding at his goons to follow. Before he crossed the threshold, he turned back and snickered at Alfie. “That is if you’re still alive.”
Her dad’s stare never left Alfie’s face, as if Frankie were merely a pesky fly. “Good to see you again, Frankie.”
“Once you get this family dispute worked out,” Frankie said as his bodyguards picked up their fallen comrade, “I hope you’ll be headed back to Chicago.”
“I’ve got no designs on your territory,” her dad replied.
Frankie gave Olivia a slight tip of his head before he went down the front steps and disappeared into the night.
Olivia jogged down the last couple of stairs on shaky legs and closed the door. “Holy shit, that was close. Dad, what the hell were you thinking?”
Alfie shifted away from her dad, giving her another raised eyebrow. “What the hell was he thinking? What the hell were you? How did you get into the house and upstairs?”
She ignored the question. “Mary Margaret is in her safe room. I thought Frankie was here to kill you. You’re lucky dad and I intervened.”
Her dad went to the transom window and peaked out, checking to make sure the coast was clear. “We’re all lucky we’re not dead.”
“I need a drink,” Alfie said. She watched him walk to the kitchen and disappear. His voice filtered back to them. “You want something, Felix? I’ve got a good scotch if you’re interested.”
Her dad looked at Olivia and rolled his eyes. “This is your CI?”
She had a few questions for Alfie and ignored her dad as she marched to the kitchen. “You’re going to need more than that, Alfonso Barone. You have me in your back pocket, huh?”
As she swung around the corner, bam. The ends of a Taser jabbed her in the stomach. Her body exploded in pain and she fell, jerking and spasming on the way to the floor, her forehead smacking into the corner of the countertop. Her vision blurred, and she felt Alfie grab her around the ankles and drag her to the stainless-steel refrigerator. The bright overhead light made everything go fuzzy. “Sorry, doll,” he murmured.
She groaned around her locked teeth and tried to kick him, but saw his expensive loafers walk past her face.
“Got your drink here, Felix,” he called to her dad.
Blinking away at the spots dancing in front of her eyes, she reached out to grab his leg, but her body would not respond to her commands. The pain in her head was immense and darkness began to close in, her ears buzzing with a high-pitched vacuum sound.
“No… dad…” she squeaked out, the words muffled as though she were drunk. Fighting her frozen muscles, she turned on her side, clawing at the floor. She had to warn her father, to stop him from coming into the kitchen…
Too late, she heard his voice above her. “Olivia?”
In the next half a second, her vision failed, the world went black, and the last thing she heard was a gunshot.
Alfie’s house was dark when Victor and Roman arrived, a light drizzle falling once more. The house was in one of the nicer areas of Oceanside, the lawns well manicured and trees lining the streets.
Thomas, Ronni, and Nelson were already there, along with two of Roman’s people, Polly and NSA agent, Winslow de Soto. The five of them were huddled at the end of the block, waiting when Victor pulled up.
He barely put the car in park before climbing out. He itched to be inside the house, to put his eyes on Olivia and make sure she was okay. “Status?” he asked.
Thomas looked down the block to Alfie’s. “Place has been dark since we got here. No movement, no noise, no one has come or gone. Are you sure she was here?”
Victor scanned the street, his eyes stopping on the red Nissan at the other end of the block under a tree. He squinted through the rain and shadows, not sure if he was relieved or worried that the car looked like Liv’s. “That’s her vehicle. Her dad said she was here. Let’s do a sneak and peek of the house, just in case they are, indeed, inside.”
“You take the back,” Roman said, and then motioned at his two agents. “We’ll watch the front.”
Some of the houses had fences surrounding their backyards and security lights, so Victor led his group through the soggy grass and around them, careful not to raise alarms as they approached the inclined hill behind Barone’s lot.
No visible fence here. Victor scanned the area for infrared trip wires or motion detectors but found none. Didn’t mean there wasn’t a camera watching their every move.
The yard had a swing and playhouse. When no alarms sounded as he crossed into the lot, Victor motioned for Nelson, Thomas, and Ronni to check the first floor windows as he headed for the back door.
The wooden deck was slick in the rain, his shoes slipping slightly as he took the three steps up to the main level. A patio set, a fire pit, and a fancy grill covered the open space, a set of patio doors providing entrance to the house. One was slid back in its tracks, only the screen closed. Victor quietly moved to it and peered in.
The interior was dark and soundless. He could make out the shapes of furniture and pictures here and there as he looked down the hallway that lead toward the front.
Rain began to fall in a steady stream, hitting the deck and roof, but Victor still couldn’t hear any sounds coming from inside. He checked the screen latch and found it unlocked.
Feeling more confident that the house was empty, he let himself in, kicking off his wet shoes. They would squeak on the wooden floors and alert anyone who might yet be hiding. Nelson joined him, shaking his head to let Victor know they hadn’t seen anything through the windows. Thomas and Ronni were still outside, keeping an eye on the exit.
With controlled stealth, he eased down the hallway, past the kitchen and dining room, checking each room for occupants.
Within minutes, he and Nelson had cleared the whole house. They found no evidence suggesting Olivia had been there, outside of several glasses half filled with liquor. Victor tapped his comm unit. “Place is clear.”
“Check the front steps,” Roman’s voice replied.
The door was unlocked. Victor opened it to find Roman shining a flashlight on a dark substance on the steps. He leaned down and wiped a gloved finger through the stuff before glancing at Victor. “Blood. It’s fresh.”
Victor’s stomach dropped.
Polly’s voice came through the comms. “Hey, boss, we found something.”
Roman swung around to look down the street and Victor followed his gaze. Polly and Winston were at Olivia’s vehicle, waving at them. Polly pointed at the trunk of the car, and Victor’s stomach fell to his knees.
He took off running. “Oh, no. No, no, no.”
As he got closer to the car, Roman on his heels, he heard ba
nging coming from it. Muffled cries.
“Oh, Jesus. Tell me he didn’t stuff her in the trunk!”
Winston held up a keychain with multiple keys on it and hustled to the lock. “I already tried to pop the trunk, but it’s locked. Found these hidden under the front seat.”
Victor grabbed the keychain and inserted the car key. “Hang on, Olivia.”
At least she wasn’t dead. The key gave him issues and he swore under his breath, fighting with it. When he finally heard the pop of the lock giving way, he was swamped with relief.
Until he saw who was inside.
“Felix?” The man’s feet and hands were bound with duct tape. Another strip was across his mouth. “Where’s Olivia?”
Dumb to ask a man with duct tape across his mouth a question. Victor and Roman hauled the older man out and Victor ripped the tape off Felix’s mouth.
The man gasped for air, allowing Polly to cut the tape from around his wrists. “Olivia…? Is she okay?”
Another gut drop. “She’s not here.”
Felix was sweating and wiped at his forehead with his arm. “Damn bastard. He took her.”
“Took her where?” Roman asked.
Polly freed Felix’s ankles and he almost stumbled. Victor caught him and steadied him until the man regained his balance against the car. Polly reached out and touched Felix’s arm. “Take it easy. Are you hurt? Do you need some water?”
“Barone took a shot at me but missed on purpose. He threatened to kill Olivia if I didn’t cooperate. That’s how I ended up gagged and bound in the trunk. I don’t know why he didn’t kill me. He tasered her, knocked her out, I think. Goddamn son-of-a-bitch. He’s not too bright, let me tell ya, because when I catch him, I will kill him.”
“Where would he have taken her?” Victor demanded. “Any ideas?”
“I have no clue where the bastard went.” Felix gave them a brief description of what happened earlier with Frankie and Olivia. “Barone’s daughter was in the safe room upstairs. Did he take her too?”
Leaving Felix with the other two, Victor and Roman ran back to the house, joining Thomas and Ronni inside to look. Sure enough, they found it in the girl’s upstairs bedroom closet, but the hidden room was as empty as the rest of the house.
Alfonso had taken what was important to him and bailed.
Why had he taken Olivia?
While Thomas called it in to have the house and car processed as a crime scene, Victor sagged against the kitchen counter. With the overhead light on, his eyes caught on a streak of blood and a strand of dark hair on the tile floor.
He knew that hair. His heart sank, thinking of Olivia hurt and bleeding. Felix was going to need to stand in line when it came to killing Alfonso Barone.
Where would he take her?
There were too many places. Hell, Alfie might be headed for the border, but if he were going to ground, why kidnap Olivia? Was he planning to use her as collateral to ensure his and his daughter’s safety?
He’s in love with her. The thought made Victor all the more enraged. Alfonso Barone was clever and cunning, but he was highly loyal and protective of those he loved. Did he envision a world where he, Olivia, and the girl could live as a family?
A damn big stretch, unless Barone was not in touch with reality, yet Victor knew that was far from the truth. The mobster had a plan, and Victor had to figure it out.
Before it was too late.
Felix stumbled into the kitchen and handed Victor a recorder. It looked similar to the same one he and Olivia had used the day she and Alfie met at the restaurant. “Not sure there’s anything on here that will help you find her, but there is an interesting conversation between Molina and Barone.”
Victor took the recorder, turning it over in his hands. “Olivia was wired?”
“Yeah, but I’m sure she’s out of range now.”
“That’s it. I know where he took her.” Victor barreled past Felix, heading for the door and calling to his agents. “The Blue Seagull,” he yelled. “Thomas, Ronni, you’re with me. Let’s go.”
Just then, his phone burst out with Olivia’s ringtone. He pulled up short at the door and drew out the phone.
Roman came hustling up. “Is it her?”
Victor nearly choked when he saw the text—a photo. “Yes.” And no.
The picture was of her in front of the wall in his living room with the samples of blue paint framing her face. A gash tracked across her forehead, embellished with a bruise and a lump as big as a golf ball. Her eyes were large in her face, sad and angry at the same time.
Below the photo, a message:
Come alone or you know what will happen.
“You hurt her, and I will feed you your balls,” Victor murmured under his breath.
Roman shook his head. “You know where she is?”
Victor put his phone away. “Yeah, I do.”
His feet couldn’t move fast enough to his car. Roman stayed on his heels. Felix joined him. “You’re not going alone,” Roman said.
“It’s a trap,” Felix added.
Of course it was, but what choice did he have?
“That’s why he took her.” Roman said, crossing the street with him. “He’s been after you the whole time.”
“Well, he’s got me,” Victor said, waving off both him and Felix, “and I’m bringing hell with me.”
17
Alfonso had gotten her good. Olivia wrestled with total disgust at herself for allowing him to get the jump on her. She’d known not to trust him, and yet, all this talk about family and protecting her had been a smokescreen.
Her head pounded, her guts twisted. If she wasn’t tied to a chair in Victor’s dining room, she would fall over. Her eyes didn’t want to focus, probably due to smacking the countertop earlier.
If I could just stop the pounding and think.
Mary Margaret was upstairs in bed with Taz. The poor girl seemed slightly shell-shocked by her father’s behavior. Apparently, he didn’t Taser too many people, tie them up, and kidnap them in front of her eyes.
Dad. Was he okay? Had Alfie shot him? She could still hear the sound of the gun right before she lost consciousness.
Being inside Victor’s house gave her some hope. He was no doubt on his way already, but he was walking into a trap. He would know it was, but that didn’t make it any less safe. Somehow, someway, she had to shake off the side effects and concussion and find a way to get free before Victor arrived.
The man sitting across from her seemed to read her mind—not that she hadn’t made it obvious she was going to kill him as soon as she got loose.
Alfie pointed at the pictures he’d laid out on the table in front of her. The box of reports and evidence about Victor’s father sat to one side, pushed there by her captor. “Are you seriously telling me you don’t believe me?”
Evidence was a funny thing. Like the photos she had of Tracee meeting Alfie in the alley that night, the truth was there, but surrounded by an absence of details. Very important details.
One photo showed a man that looked like Victor meeting with Gino DeStefano at an undisclosed location, the picture taken from a distance, as if the subjects didn’t know the photographer was there.
A second was of Victor with Frankie Molina outside a warehouse by the docks.
The third photo was the one that really blew her away: Victor, Tracee, and an unknown suspect in an alley, with Frankie in the background, appearing to be overseeing the meeting.
“Once you are part of the family, doll, you can never leave. He’s been playing you this whole time.”
It couldn’t be true. Alfie was taking circumstantial evidence and spinning it to create a story. “Those pictures mean nothing out of context.”
“I gave you the context.” He banged a finger on the center photograph. I took every one of these, because I was there. I was a witness. He’s in deep with Gino and Frankie, and you deserve to know the truth. Out of all of these guys, I’m the only one you can trust.”
Right! Like that was ever gonna happen. “You lied to me,” Olivia said, ignoring the churning in her stomach and heart. “You betrayed me. You tasered me, tied me up, and kidnapped me. You shot my dad! Gee, whatever would make you think I don’t trust you, Alfie?” she seethed.
“Calm down. Your dad’s fine. Just listen to me. Gino supported Victor’s mom after his father was killed. How do you think ol’ Vic put his family back together after his dad died? How did he take care of his disabled mother? He was nothing but a kid, Olivia. You really think he could do all that on his own?”
This was completely crazy. “Even if he took help as a child from Gino, there’s no way he’s part of the family.”
Alfie sat back, totally frustrated. “Victor owed Gino. He’s always been under Gino’s protection, and in return he’s been an insider for him. As he sailed up the ranks of the FBI, he helped Gino rise to power in Southern California, avoiding arrest and prosecution for his crimes. Dupé is the reason the Fifty-seven Gang has been untouchable. Until you came along, anyway.”
The pounding in her head went sonic. “Oh, you’re good. Totally psychotic, but good. Trying to get that little voice inside my head to doubt Victor instead of you.”
But it was working in the tiniest of ways, like a grain of sand between her toes, scratching her skin. The nagging inside her head insisted it made sense. Victor had dodged her questions when it came to how he’d put his family back together as a kid, taking care of his sisters and mother. Doubts crept in like more grains, and she tried to mentally shake them off. Has to be the conk I took on the head. Victor would never work with the mafia and betray the FBI.
Yet, wasn’t that what the Justice Department suspected? That had to be why they’d wanted her to buddy up to him. Olivia Fiorelli, the rock star of organized crime. If anyone could sniff out a traitor working with the mob, it was her.
Was it possible Alfie wasn’t the only one who’d duped her?
No. There was no way Victor was in cahoots with a criminal syndicate of any kind.
