by Kiera Silver
She frowned at him. “They should be involved. They’ll find our baby.”
His expression reflected doubt. “Or they’ll get so caught up on investigating the Moretti’s that they’ll let Lucas fall through the cracks.”
Katie scowled. “That wouldn’t happen. You’re putting the mafia before your son!”
He flinched, looking wounded. “I’m not. I promise you that. Do you really find it so hard to believe that someone would want to bring down the Moretti family to boost their career, and they’d focus more on those crimes than the crime of taking Lucas? Isn’t it conceivable they might not care about a mobster’s son going missing?”
She wanted to keep protesting, but she wasn’t sure if she was right. His words did make a terrible sort of sense. “Three days. If he isn’t back in my arms by then, I’m going to the FBI myself. Agreed?”
He nodded. “Two days was my limit, love.”
She let out a small sigh, not entirely pacified, but cautious in case he was correct. Besides, if—no, when—Armo and his brothers found the kidnappers, she knew they would make them pay in a way the FBI never could or would. Anyone who would steal an infant from its mother’s arms deserved whatever the Moretti’s chose to do to him. “Fine, but I want out of here. I need to help.”
He shook his head. “The doctor wants you to stay here overnight. You took a pretty hard hit to the head, and he wants to monitor you.”
She shook her head and then gasped in agony at the explosion of pain. “I need to get out of here. I have to find Lucas.”
Armo’s embrace was still tender, but his tone was stern. “You’re not going anywhere tonight, love. You won’t do Lucas any good if you get out of here and die from a blood clot or concussion.”
She recognized the wisdom of his words, but it felt wrong to be lounging in the hospital bed while her baby was out there somewhere frightened and alone. As though thinking of him triggered the response, her breasts started to tingle, and she knew letdown was imminent. “I’ll need a breast pump. I don’t want to lose my milk while he’s gone.”
“I’ll make sure you have one, but he’s not going to be gone that long. We’ll have him back soon.” He spoke with such sharp determination that it was difficult not to believe in him. She clung to the hope that he was right, and their baby would be back with them before they knew it.
Two agonizing days later, she finished her latest pumping session before storing the bottles of milk in the refrigerator and returning to the living room of Armo’s condo. It had become the unofficial headquarters of the search for Lucas. The Moretti associates were in and out all hours of the day investigating leads, but so far, they hadn’t found the baby. Armo had told her that morning he was calling the FBI that evening, and she was counting down the hours, torn between fear at what might happen to Lucas if they weren’t involved and anxiety about what the Feds’ involvement could mean for her family long-term.
The longer the time from when he was taken, the less optimistic she was about him being found. At first, she had assumed he was taken because of Armo’s mob ties, but as the hours passed without any contact from his abductors, or any demands for ransom, she started to speculate they had been the victim of a more random kidnapping.
Babies were a prime commodity, often sold to desperate couples who couldn’t adopt for whatever reason or have their own. She’d spent hours of the last few days torturing herself by reading about infant kidnapping and the child slavery trade on the Internet. She would prefer someone had taken Lucas just to get Armo’s cooperation, because there was still a chance to get their baby back. If someone had sold Lucas to another couple, that person was likely long gone, as were the people who had bought him, taking her son with them.
She knew she was hovering on the edge of a breakdown, but she couldn’t find a way to avoid it. She couldn’t sleep, she could barely eat, and her thoughts obsessed over what was happening to her baby. Was he being cared for properly? Was he missing her and Armo? She didn’t doubt that one at all, but she hoped that if he had been stolen that his memory would soon fade, and he’d be able to be happy again. One of them deserved to be, because she was certain neither she nor Armo would ever be happy again if their baby wasn’t returned.
Sometimes, she was bitter about it all, and she could feel the rage swelling whenever she looked at Armo or a member of his family. Sometimes, she wanted to scream at them that this was all their fault, and if they had been legitimate and honest people, no one would have taken their baby to get back at them. Since she knew it would do no good and would simply make Armo feel worse, she had resisted the compulsion.
For the first time in days, the landline phone rang, and she stiffened as she walked closer to it. Armo hit the speakerphone before the first ring finished, and she held her breath as she waited tensely for ransom demands.
“Hello, Mr. Moretti,” said a grave-sounding voice, tinged with insincerity.
“Who is this?” barked Armo.
“This is Randall Adams, Armo. I’ve heard your son is missing, and I’d like to meet with you. I’d like to offer my assistance in any way I can to help find your son and ensure he’s returned where he belongs… before something terrible happens.”
The words themselves were kind and sympathetic, but Katie was certain there was a hint of threat underneath them. She was certain she wasn’t the only one, judging by the tensing of postures in the room.
“We’ve kept it out of the papers. How did you hear about our misfortune, Senator?” Armo sounded politely interested, but his hand was clenched into a fist on his lap.
“I have my sources. Shall we meet, Mr. Moretti? I don’t think you can afford to reject my offer of… help.”
“I’d love to meet with you,” said Armo through clenched teeth. “I’m sure we have a lot to discuss, Senator.”
“I’m sure we do. Bring your brothers along, and we’ll see what we can figure out to get your son back where he belongs.”
As Armo firmed up the time with him, Katie listened carefully. She wanted to make sure she knew where the meeting time and place was, in case Armo tried to keep her from attending. He wasn’t going to be able to, but if he tried, she was going to sneak in instead.
Surprisingly, since he hung up, he sent her a significant look. “We’ll be in a meeting with the senator this evening. I’m optimistic it will bring Lucas home quickly.”
Katie’s stomach churned. “He’s the one who took Lucas, isn’t he?”
Armo traded a look with his brothers before shrugging. “I don’t know, but I think it makes sense, especially since no one else outside our circle knows our boy is missing. Our people have been discreet to avoid giving anyone else leverage.”
“Has he hurt him?” She knew he didn’t know either, but the words wouldn’t stay unuttered. “Is Lucas gone forever?”
Armo’s grim expression was at odds with his words. “On the contrary, I fully expect Adams to be able to help Lucas find his way back home.”
After her moment of insecurity, Katie was also optimistic that Lucas would be soon be home, because there was no advantage to harming him if he was being used to manipulate the Moretti’s. It seemed likely her baby would be back in her arms soon, but at what cost? What would Adams demand in return for giving back their baby?
It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, they would pay it. There was no other alternative.
Chapter Ten
“No way in hell,” announced Katie. She stood blocking the door with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at her husband and his two brothers, who flanked him. “You’re not leaving me out of this, and I’m not staying here while you handle it. I’m coming along in case we get Lucas back tonight.”
Armo scowled at her. “What we’re doing tonight is dangerous. You’re not going.”
She glared just as ferociously. “I am.”
Larenz was glaring at her too, though Dante looked sympathetic.
“You can’t keep me out of this. It isn’t r
ight, and it isn’t fair.”
Larenz let out a harsh laugh. “And you’re the queen of fair, are you? Who kept Lucas hidden from Armo to start with?”
She scowled at him, not wanting to waste the energy or the time, but growing sick of his crap. “You know why I left, and why I thought I was doing the right thing. To put it bluntly, it’s not your business, Larenz. It’s between myself and Armo. And either way, what happened in the past has nothing to do with what happens right now. And what happens is I’m coming with you.”
Larenz let out a harsh exhalation before looking at Armo. “Deal with her.”
Armo approached her, trying to take her hands. She started fighting him until she realized what he was saying. “If you’re coming along, you need some protection. Come with me.”
Not entirely sure she could trust Armo, she followed him hesitantly into his home office, aware of Larenz cursing a blue streak behind them and Dante murmuring something in a more reasonable-sounding tone. She blocked out the other two and focused on Armo as he led her inside and closed the door. She hesitated near the doorway, arms crossed over her chest again. “I meant what I said. I’m going with you, and if you try to keep me here, I’ll just find a way out to follow you.”
Armo rolled his eyes. “Not if I tied you to the bed or something. But I’m not going to do that.”
“You’d better not.” She muttered the words under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
Armo turned away from her, going to enter the bookshelves. She watched with surprise as he tugged at a book, which triggered the bookshelf to swing away from the wall. Behind the bookshelf, nestled into the wall, was a gun safe. He tapped in a long code into the keypad, at least eight digits, before the door hummed for a moment and hissed open slowly.
Armo stepped inside, and she got closer, but not close enough to be locked in there if he decided to keep her home in such a vile way. From what she could observe from her vantage point, there were several guns inside, along with what looked to be a stack of cash and another shelf full of manila envelopes. She wondered what they all were, but didn’t have time to focus on the puzzle right then. The envelopes probably contained new identities or something that would allow the triplets to start over in new lives, should the urgent need arise.
Armo exited a moment later, closing the door behind him with the same code. It hissed closed with a solid clicking sound, and then he closed the bookshelf and pushed the book back into place. When he turned to her, he was holding a tiny pistol. It was larger than a derringer, but certainly not a standard-issue handgun. She eyed it skeptically as he held it out to her.
“What am I supposed to do with that?”
“Put it somewhere on your body, hopefully somewhere unobtrusive. I’d suggest tucked into your bra, or perhaps in your panties. Somewhere they aren’t as likely to find it if they search us. I don’t want you going in there without any way to protect yourself.”
She hesitated for a moment before taking the small gun. “Would this actually do any damage to anyone?”
He gave her a small smile. “It fires three .22-caliber bullets. It’s not much, but it might be enough to get you out of a bad situation. I can’t just let you go in there unprotected. Now let me show you how to use it.”
She watched carefully as he quickly, but methodically, led her through how to fire the pistol, including how to secure the safety and remove it easily. He had her go through the steps three times before he loaded the pistol with three bullets he took from his pocket. She assumed he had grabbed them from the safe, since it didn’t make sense for him to carry around .22-caliber bullets everywhere he went.
After she had slipped the gun into her bra, finding it cold and uncomfortable, she turned to face him. “Is it obvious?”
He shook his head. “Not really, and it certainly won’t be once you put on a hoodie. Don’t take it off when we get there, no matter how hot you get. Okay?”
She nodded her understanding as she followed him out of the home office. At the door, she shrugged on a hoodie as she flicked glances at his brothers before looking back at him. “What about you three? Are you armed?”
Armo nodded just once. “We have to be. It’s expected. They won’t let us keep the guns though.” He sounded remarkably unconcerned about that.
She walked behind Armo out of the house, while Dante and then Larenz brought up the rear. They chose a black SUV one of the security people had brought around, and she climbed into the backseat with Armo, leaving Dante and Larenz to take the front and debate about who would drive.
There was no argument though, and Larenz settled behind the wheel. It made perfect sense, since he was a control freak. Or at least that was her assessment, which could be skewed because he’d been a complete and total jerk to her since she had returned, so there was no affection between them, and she wasn’t inclined to gloss over his negative side.
Her thoughts fled from Larenz, and his need for control, as they grew closer to the mansion where Senator Randall Adams lived. He’d called it the house on the phone, but it was certainly more than a house. It was about four regular-sized houses crammed into one. She was unsurprised by his wealthy home, figuring since he was a politician, he would live lavishly.
Armo parked in front of the marble stairs leading up to the entryway, and the four of them got out. The doors opened as they approached, and she was startled to see six men in dark suits staring at them, forming a half-circle around the doorway from the inside, allowing just enough room for all four of them to step inside and close the door, but not letting them go any farther.
“What’s all this?” asked Larenz. “The senator invited us.”
“We have to search you first,” said one of the large, intimidating men. His suit stretched over his bulky frame in a way that suggested that it barely fit. He was an impressive, and terrifying, sight.
Larenz, Dante, and Armo submitted to pat-downs from various goons around them. They were each relieved of the weapons they carried, and it was as though the security guards knew exactly where to look for their concealed holsters.
She gritted her teeth when the hulking behemoth turned to her, his expression impassive. At least he didn’t draw it out or make it creepily sexual as he patted her down. He used the back of his hand to check between her legs, but didn’t creep higher than a couple of inches below her labia. He was equally cursory in his exam of her breasts.
She held her breath the whole time he patted her breasts, exhaling with relief when he didn’t detect the tiny pistol nestled between her swollen breasts. She should’ve pumped before they left, but she hadn’t had the time.
With a nod, the main goon gestured for them to follow him as he walked through the mansion. He led the procession with the four of them following behind in double file, flanked by the other five guards. It was a nerve-racking walk, and she was beginning to think the length of the house would never end when they finally came to a set of ornate French doors.
The head goon tapped on it, waited a moment, and opened the door for them. “Go in. The senator is waiting for you.”
Larenz nodded to indicate he’d heard, but he made no comment. She followed suit, as did his brothers, and the four of them stepped into Adams’ den. Her stomach twisted and jerked with nausea, along with a strong hint of anticipation. Finally, she might be getting her baby back, and soon.
They approached the desk, and there were three chairs placed in front of it. She didn’t bother to take one, standing behind Armo instead and putting her hand on his shoulder. The senator was seated behind his desk, and he looked like a distinguished and honorable man. His hair was fluffy white as expected at his age of mid-sixties, and the lines around his eyes appeared to be from frequent smiles. She knew looks could be deceptive though, and she didn’t buy the kindhearted older man charade.
“It must be so distressing to know your son is beyond your reach, subject to the whims of whoever holds him captive.” The words should have been sympathetic,
but there was a disquieting undertone to his words, one full of dark glee.
“Why have you brought us here?” asked Larenz.
His brusque tone made it clear he didn’t trust Adams. If she had thought the other man genuinely wanted to help them, she would have tried to smooth it over with a more diplomatic tone, but she was just as convinced as Armo and his brothers that the senator was directly involved in kidnapping Lucas. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to throw herself across the desk and claw at his eyes as she demanded to know her son’s location.
“I want to see you reunited with the child.” His gaze flicked briefly to Katie before returning to Larenz, as though Armo and Dante didn’t exist. “I think I know a way to make that happen.”
“How?” asked Armo, seeming to be at the very end of his reserves of control. “If you know where our son is, tell us now.”
She was a little startled to be included in the statement, though she shouldn’t be since he’d allowed her to come along. She held her breath as she awaited Adams’ response.
“I think it’s possible I can help you reunite. I might know something. Or maybe nothing. It really depends on what kind of deal we can work out here.”
“What do you want?” demanded Dante.
“Once upon a time, I would have been content with a cut of your empire.” His chair squeaked when he leaned back in it to put his feet up on the desk. He looked relaxed, as though he had nothing at stake in the conversation. “That was before you murdered my son, of course.”
“What do you want now?” asked Larenz in an ice-cold voice.
“It’s all in here, fellas.” He slid a manila folder across the desk to them. Armo was the one to open it, handing copies to his brothers before they started to read.
It didn’t take Larenz very long before he exploded with, “Fuck that.”
“What is it?” asked Katie as she leaned over Armo’s shoulder, trying to get close enough to read the small font.
