Untraceable

by Lindsay Delagair

  Heartfelt tears and tender moments of accepting the fact that the road before them wouldn’t be easy made for a special reunion.

  CHAPTER seventeen

  With Ryan gone and the hotel room quiet, Micah felt how deeply he needed sleep. He’d only had one actual full night of rest. Mentally and physically he was collapsing, but his need to save Annalisa was keeping him going. He carefully set his equipment and placed the headphones over his ears. He would lie on the bed and close his eyes, and hopefully get some rest, but if Sharon made any calls from her phone, he’d be listening to every word.

  He dozed until about 9:30 when the computer signaled a call being made. He listened as the call connected. It was her father. She was as sweet as honey as she explained that she’d taken a couple days to relax at Hilton Head and that she would be tied up for a week with some personal business. Her father sounded as if he wanted to believe her, yet Micah could detect suspicion. Then the actual reason for her call became apparent as she asked if he was still planning to go to Norfolk in a few days.

  “I don’t know,” he stated, “With you taking some time off, perhaps I’d better—”

  “Oh, Daddy,” she crooned, “you know I’m always on my game even if I’m not there. Go ahead; I know Darlene said she’s been dying to get away for a while now.”

  “I thought you didn’t like Darlene?”

  “Daddy, you know I can’t lie worth a shit—I can’t stand her, but she makes you happy so I’m not complaining. God knows you need something that will lower your blood pressure. Take her down to the house and let me handle things while you’re away. You know Aldo isn’t going to let me do anything important without your consent anyway—that old asshole.”

  “Respect,” the older man snapped, “my daughter, is something you need to learn. Aldo has been helping me run this family since—”

  “I was in diapers,” she finished for her father. “Yes, I know, Daddy. I actually do respect him; I just don’t like his lack of trust in me.”

  “Trust is earned. You’ve made some unwise choices over the last couple years and that makes him uncomfortable.”

  “I’ll come back if you aren’t going to take a vacation without—”

  “Never mind. I’m going to Norfolk on Sunday. I’ll be back in a week or two.”

  “If you don’t take an army with you then the two of you can actually relax—it’s not like someone is going to be stupid enough to go after you anyway.”

  He gave an insincere chuckle, “Filip hasn’t been in the grave four months; no one thought anyone would be stupid enough to go after him either.”

  “I still say he was causing trouble with Botachelli’s clan or else he wouldn’t have been down in Gulf Shores—and you say I’m reckless.”

  “Aldo thinks he was lured down there.”

  “Aldo sees conspiracies and plots everywhere—the man is practically senile, Daddy.”

  “Sharon!” he snapped, his voice rising to the authoritative level.

  “I’m sorry,” she stated with a bit of an obvious pout, “Enjoy Norfolk. I’ll see you in a couple weeks when you get back.”

  The call abruptly ended.

  Within seconds, she was placing another call. A man with a heavy Hispanic accent answered.

  Her temperament was completely different. “Let me speak to Jaime,” she growled.

  Moments later, another Hispanic voice came on the line, “Senorita Moretti?”

  “How far out is the shipment?” she demanded.

  “The boat is less than 1,500 kilometers from New Orleans. They should make port Wednesday night.”

  “Good. I’ll have my men ready to unload at one a.m. Thursday morning. What did they mark the crates this time?”

  “Coffee—they said you were angry when they crated the last load as sugar.”

  “Sugar is just a little too cute. Besides 5,000 kilos of sugar is small enough to be suspicious and when we’re talking a street value of ninety million dollars, one cute screw up could cripple my operation. Give me the name of the ship.”

  Micah listened to the remainder of the conversation, but he was already making plans to foul up her shipment. Now all he had to decide was to either tell Gwen and let the police make the bust, or to tell Botachelli and let the Family know what was happening right under their noses.

  He called Botachelli.

  Micah knew there was no need for pleasantries; his boss knew his number very well.

  “Yes,” came the terse, deep voice.

  “Sharon Moretti has a huge cocaine shipment coming in through the Port of New Orleans, I’d love to see it intercepted.”

  There was a brief pause. “Does this have anything to do with your wife’s murder?”

  Micah knew why Botachelli was asking. There is a code followed in the mafia, one part of the code is reserved for the treatment of wives. To attack a man or woman who works for the mob is one matter, but to attack the wife of a mafia member is a dire sin. D’Angelo had broken that solemn rule on multiple occasions, and had he not been dead when his deeds were uncovered, Botachelli would have ensured him to suffer a slower and more humiliating death. As it was, the only thing left to do was give him a traitor’s funeral—his body had been taken to the landfill and buried with the garbage, and his name was removed from the time-honored Family roll.

  “It was staged by Sharon. I discovered today, just before the service, my wife is alive, but Sharon has her.”

  “Then we take out Ms. Moretti,” he said without hesitation.

  “No sir,” came Micah’s careful response, “She had her taken and hidden by a protégé of Caprizio’s.”

  “Caprizio,” he stated in surprise. “That certainly complicates matters. He orders me to leave you alone and then he allows someone to take your wife? What the hell did you do to piss him off so badly?”

  “I wish I knew,” Micah stated with the most sincerity of his life.

  “You know where this is leading, don’t you? Caprizio must be planning to let the Families go through a shakeup so he can change the structure of the organization. A mafia war will wreak havoc on everyone—and it appears to be starting with you. I know you said you made a commitment to change, but I’ll need you if this is going to get bloody.”

  “Oh, it’s going to get bloody, sir, sooner than anyone thinks—but I need the financial structure to come out from under her feet first. I understand if you don’t want to start that war right now, but if you aren’t planning to intercept this shipment, I’ll have my sister—”

  “Let Gwen take this one,” he answered. “I’d rather show our power, but perhaps it would be best for your wife if it appears to be something the police stumbled across. I’ll inform my men so they know what Gwen is doing. And, Micah,” he paused.

  The pause was different and Micah sensed it. Botachelli never actually liked him, but there was something in his superior’s voice he never heard before, “Yes, sir.”

  “Is there anything I can do, or offer to help you?”

  Micah was honestly surprised by the sincerity in Botachelli’s voice, “Yes sir, there is.” He would need to craft this carefully, “When everything turns to chaos and you think I’ve lost my mind, I need your word you won’t kill me—at least not until all the cards are played.” Micah listened to the long, deep sigh.

  “You have my word.”

  The blood bath was about to begin.

  The next day, traffic on Sharon’s phone stopped completely. He wasn’t overly concerned, but he was frustrated as he waited impatiently for her to contact Giovanni again. He was certain that she was staying in the vicinity, so it was likely that she was now using a landline instead of her cell. She made a single call the next day to discuss an issue concerning a business associate with her father, but nothing more.

  CHAPTER eighteen

  David knew something was terribly wrong when Micah and Ryan didn’t re-appear for the service. The pastor delayed the start for fifteen minutes, but it was obvious tha
t they were gone. The service was beautiful, but David couldn’t concentrate. He texted Micah, but there was no reply. He tried calling, but it went unanswered. He forced himself to comfort Nadia, telling her and Kimmy both that everything was fine. He said he felt neither Micah nor Ryan wanted to breakdown in front of a crowd. It was too much for those two to handle and perhaps they needed private time to talk.

  She didn’t appear completely convinced, but he could tell she mustered her composure and courage for Kimmy’s sake. When the service ended, his parents and Gwen said he needed to take Nadia, Candace, and Kimmy home; they would start looking for Micah.

  As soon as they made it back to Nadia’s, he went straight for his bags and confirmed his worst fear: his guns were missing. But why take Ryan with him? If he was going after the ones who rigged her car, why not take him? He and Micah were a team.

  He had been prepared to convince Nadia to slip away with him to Canada for a ‘vacation,’ but he knew she wouldn’t agree to leave, not now, not until she discovered what happened to Micah. Everything was unraveling too quickly, and when he saw the police cruisers pull into the driveway, he lost all hope. He was certain they were coming to deliver news that Micah was dead, and perhaps Ryan, too. Once they were seated in the living room, he asked the officers to give him a moment as he ushered a reluctant Kimmy off to her room. He pacified her by saying he might have a surprise for her in a while. He hoped going to Canada would be something a child would like.

  Once he returned to the room, he took Nadia’s hand and braced her for whatever news was about to be shared. Candace was being a rock, but he was certain that under her steady façade, she was scared to death. They sat there in stunned shock as the detective said that although DNA couldn’t be performed, a painstaking dissection of the charred remains revealed that no remnant of a child could be found. The female who died in the inferno wasn’t pregnant; it couldn’t have been Leese.

  He thought Nadia might freak out, but instead she simply closed her eyes as tears ran down her cheeks. The police asked their precursory questions about Leese’s whereabouts, possible enemies who might have taken her against her will, and if anyone had contacted them about a ransom. When they said the FBI was getting involved, David asked them to leave. He knew what Micah was doing now, and the only reason he could foresee him taking Ryan along was to have him fly him to wherever he thought he’d find Leese.

  Candace gathered her things and told Nadia she would be praying for them. He walked her to the door, and then she was gone.

  He returned to find Nadia sitting on the edge of the sofa, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, hands clinched into fists and her thumbs pressed to her lips. Her eyes were red and glassy as she rocked slightly to and fro. David had been immune to fear most of his life, but he was afraid as he stared at the woman he loved. He knew Nadia’s previous breakdown and apparent attempted suicide had been the result of Robert drugging her and Jack’s dirty work, but this time he was honestly afraid that she was on the verge of a real breakdown—this had been too much on her—too much on anyone.

  He knelt on the thick carpet and pulled her clinched hands away from her face, “Nadia, look at me. Please, baby, look at me.”

  Her eyes slowly rose to meet his gaze.

  “I’ve got to get you and Kimmy out of here. I’ll do everything I can to find Micah, and to help him find her, but I have to know you and Kimmy are going to be safe. I have a place in Bear River, Nova Scotia with a—”

  “Canada?” she questioned. “I can’t leave now. I can’t… My God, David, she wasn’t in the car. She wasn’t in the car. Where is my daughter?” she sobbed.

  He opened his arms, planning to lean into her and embrace her, but she slid forward off the couch and crumpled into his hold. He was shushing her, kissing her tear-soaked cheeks and whispering how much he loved her, telling her that he had to keep her safe, telling her he’d go out of his mind if something happened to her or Kimmy.

  God, he’d never loved anyone or anything like he loved her; he’d do anything to give this beautiful woman back her happiness—even if it cost him every possession or even the breath in his lungs, he’d sacrifice anything to see her smile. As he held her, he felt something warm and moist on his cheeks; when he reached up and wiped it away, he realized he was crying with her. He couldn’t remember a time in his adult life when he actually shed a tear. He came close when he realized what Leese had done to save him and his family from execution, and again when he asked Nadia to marry him, but even then he managed to hold them back.

  He was looking at his fingertips in amazement when he felt Nadia’s tender hand brushing his tears away. That only opened the flood gate wider.

  “I love you, David,” she said as she placed a kiss on his lips, “but even more than that, I trust you completely. If you say Kimmy and I need to go to Canada—or wherever you choose, we’ll go. I love you so much; don’t cry—I’ll do what you ask.”

  And then she did something that made his heart elate: she smiled. He couldn’t believe something so simple, something so tender, something he once thought was an insignificant human trait could make him feel the way her smile could.

  “I know she’s alive—she just has to be, David.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed, kissing his ear and murmuring that there was finally a glimmer of hope.

  He found himself smiling, too. He pulled from her embrace, “I need to call my parents and Gwen and let them know what’s going on, but I’ve got to tell you, baby, all I really want to do right now is carry you upstairs and love on you—and the way I’m feeling right now, I swear I could do you for hours.”

  “You call your parents; I’ll tell Kimmy we’re going on a trip and to start packing, then I’ll wait for you in the bedroom—I want you, too,” she added with a seductive edge to the smile she’d been wearing.

  By eight p.m. they would be on a flight to Halifax. They’d spend the night, and then leave in a chartered plane to Digby-Annapolis airport, pick up a car and drive to Bear River. His mother found this place for him only a few days ago when he said he was getting Nadia and Kimmy the hell out of West Palm. He hadn’t even seen it yet, but according to her it was a beautiful 150 year-old home that had been a bed and breakfast at one time. It was on a seven acre parcel right on the river.

  When his mother told him Nadia would love it, he told her to close the deal and arrange their ‘paperwork.’ The arrangements for Frank and Glenda Stottlebrook and their daughter, Breelyn to take ownership immediately was finished, and he had their new birth certificates, passports, school records, and drivers licenses in his bag. He personally didn’t think he looked like a Frank, but if it kept Nadia and Kimmy safe he’d change his name to Ali Baba—he didn’t care. Once he got them settled in the new house, he’d be back in the States looking for Micah and Leese, and killing any mother-fucker who tried to stand in his way—even if it took him all the way to the Capo dei Capi.

  CHAPTER nineteen

  Gwen was ready with officers and DEA agents when the container ship Paloma reached the docks in New Orleans. Tugs guided her in place, and as soon as all the mooring lines were secured, they swarmed the ship. Every crew member was detained. Agents and dogs descended into the hold and the search began for the drugs. The dogs alerted to the scent of the cocaine, but they whined and circled in frustration as they tried to locate it. When the agents came up empty handed, Gwen knew something was amiss. The crew consisted mostly of seasoned veterans of the shipping trade, and, Gwen suspected, of the drug trade as well. She made her choices prudently as she singled out the men who were youthful and nervous.

  Hours later, in a highly illegal, but extremely effective, private interrogation in the back of a seedy warehouse, one of the men cracked. The news wasn’t what Gwen wanted to hear.

  When Micah answered his phone, she decided the direct path was the best, “We have a big problem—Botachelli has a leak close to him.”

  “What?” came Micah’s stunned res
ponse.

  “The drugs were off-loaded to a smaller boat before they made port—they weren’t on the Paloma, and Sharon’s men never showed to pick up the shipment; someone told them what was getting ready to go down. I don’t know if Botachelli used your name when he told his closest men to keep out of our way, but Sharon knew we were ready for her. If she finds out it was you….” She didn’t finish her sentence, she didn’t need to. She knew Micah understood the severity of the situation. She heard the long, deeply frustrated exhaled breath on the other end of the call.

  “I have a meeting with her tonight to go over the layout of her father’s vacation home. If she knows it was me, then I’m sure she’ll have some men waiting. If I don’t make it—”

  “Don’t talk like that; you’ll make it.”

  “Gwen, if I don’t make it, you’ve got to find Leese before she…” He couldn’t say it, he didn’t even want to think it. “Come down on Sharon hard. Botachelli said he’d help, but speak to him directly and tell him about the leak.”

  “Micah, I don’t normally encourage you to do what you do best, but if it comes down to a fire-fight, make sure you put a bullet between that bitch’s eyes.”

  “You have no idea how badly I want to do that, but she may be the only way to get Leese back. I don’t think Vitale Moretti will approve of what she’s done, and I think he’s the only one who can put enough pressure on her to make her crack.”

  “Be careful, Micah,” she paused and then caught him before he hung up. “Micah?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I know I never say it, but—but I love you, little brother. Don’t get killed.” There was nothing but dead airspace—and then something that completely surprised her.