Beneath These Shadows

by Meghan March

  By the time the woman was done, I was more confused than ever, but that didn’t change a fucking thing about needing to go after Eden.

  “So you’re sure she knew him?”

  “It seemed like it.”

  “But he still hit her and carried her out anyway?”

  She nodded.

  “Something doesn’t seem right,” the cop said.

  “No shit,” I interrupted. “I’ve got the plate number. Call in a BOLO. Get every cop in this city looking for her.”

  He glared at me, but I rattled the number off anyway and he wrote it down.

  The door to Voodoo swung open and another cop came in holding a plastic bag with a purse inside. Eden’s purse. I went toward him.

  “Can you confirm this belongs to your girlfriend?” he asked me.

  “Yes. It’s hers.”

  “Elisha Madden, right? I’ll run it and see if we get anything.”

  I frowned and shook my head. “Eden Madden. Not Elisha.”

  The officer’s brows furrowed. “That’s not what the ID says.”

  “Let me see it.”

  Rather than telling me to fuck off, the cop slipped on a rubber glove and pulled it from the bag, holding it in front of my face.

  “This her?”

  The picture was Eden. The last name was right. The first name was not.

  What the hell? I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture of it before he realized what I was doing.

  “Hey—”

  “Like you really fucking care.”

  “So this isn’t her?”

  “It’s her. But that isn’t her first name. It’s Eden.”

  “You sure about that?”

  I didn’t know what to say in response. Apparently I was fucking wrong about my girlfriend’s name.

  The cops finished questioning the woman as Fabienne showed up and started making demands about what the hell had happened to her shop.

  During the distraction, I called Con. Without a greeting, I launched into what I needed. “I need you to run a different name. Cops found Eden’s ID and it’s her picture, but the first name is Elisha. I got a picture. I’ll send it.”

  “I’ll get him this ASAP, and I’ll call you back. You find any trail?”

  “Cops wouldn’t let me go. They’re putting a BOLO on the car. Hoping like fuck they find it.”

  “Good. That’s actually better than you roaming the streets hoping to catch a glimpse. I’ll call Rix, and hopefully he can give us the inside word from the cops. We’ll find her, Bish.”

  I’D CRUISED FOR AN HOUR on my bike looking for any sign of the Lincoln and had found nothing. According to Rix, the cops were getting hits on the BOLO, but none of them were the right car. Something had to break soon.

  My phone rang and I grabbed it. Con.

  “You got answers?” I demanded.

  “Not all of them. But I can tell you one thing for sure. My guy ran the license, and even though it’s a good fake, it’s definitely a fake. He can’t find an Elisha Madden or an Eden Madden. He’s digging further. Going to see if we can figure out where it came from.”

  “New York City. That’s where she came from.”

  “That’s what I told him, but there are a lot of people who make fake IDs in that city.”

  “What about the Lincoln?”

  “Rented by one Angelo Francetti over a week ago. For all we know, he could’ve stolen it.”

  “Did you give the name to your guy?”

  “Still waiting to hear back on him. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear.”

  I hung up, and Delilah watched me lower my phone back to the counter. “Something’s not right here. Something’s really not fucking right.”

  “I know.”

  I rode the streets again for another hour and came back to Voodoo when I didn’t have a fucking clue where else to go.

  She was gone.

  What the hell is her real name? Fake ID? Why?

  It seemed the woman I’d fallen for was a hell of a lot better at keeping secrets than I was. I’d gone round and round with my emotions. Anger that she hadn’t told me. Concern that whatever she was running from caught up with her. Disappointment with every corner I turned that I didn’t see her.

  I called in every marker I had to find the car, and no one had a clue. Con’s contacts were better than mine, so I hoped he’d find out something really fucking soon. Before I lost my goddamned mind.

  We closed Voodoo, and Delilah made coffee up in my apartment. She and I sat across the table from each other, both staring at the phone between us, waiting for it to ring.

  The pounding of someone running up the stairs from the downstairs shop to my apartment had me whipping my head toward the door.

  Only Con had a key besides me or Delilah, so it was no surprise when he threw the door open. In his hand was a pile of papers.

  “What do you have?” I demanded.

  “More than I expected, that’s for fucking sure.”

  He tossed the stack of papers on the counter, and I grabbed the top one.

  Angelo Francetti had a mugshot and a rap sheet. One part stood out more than anything else.

  Soldier for the Casso crime family.

  Everything inside me went cold. Fucking frozen.

  The Casso crime family. Dominic Casso. The head of the fucking mob. The reason I had no uncle, no cousin, and had been running for ten years.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Your girl . . . her name is Eden. Eden Mathews. But that’s only because she doesn’t have her father’s name.”

  I remembered what the lady in the donut shop had told us the guy who took Eden said. That her dad would be mad. I looked up at Con’s solemn features and tried to put it together.

  “Who the fuck is her father?”

  “Dominic Casso.”

  Ice froze my chest as realization slammed into me.

  Delilah sucked in a breath. “Holy fucking shit. Was she here spying on you?”

  The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind until the words came out of Delilah’s mouth.

  “No fucking way.”

  “Knew you were running from something, but didn’t have a clue that was it. Fuck, man. Do we need to get you out of here?” Con asked. “This family is no joke. Even if they’re in a tailspin right now because of the Feds, Casso is still as dangerous as ever, according to my contact.”

  Delilah pushed up from the table. “Con’s right. You need to pack your shit and go. What if they come for you?” Her tone took on a hysterical edge. “This could all be a setup.”

  I looked at Delilah. “No. No fucking way.” I refused to believe it. How can she be a Casso? The odds were ridiculous. It couldn’t be true.

  She put her hands on her hips. “How do you know? Isn’t it a little convenient that she ended up here?”

  I thought of the sidewalk where I originally found Eden about to be assaulted. “I just know. There’s no fucking way. You’re sure that’s who she is?” I asked Con.

  “Yes. No doubt at all. This shit is straight from the FBI database. Casso kept her under wraps, but my guy has a comprehensive file on the whole damn family. Fuck, she has a half brother who’s a movie star and one who’s a fucking billionaire. You’ve heard their names before too. Guaranteed. Report says she has no contact with them at all.”

  I didn’t care about her siblings. “So, what the hell happened? Soldier from the family comes to drag her home, but she won’t go, so she struggles and he knocks her out and takes her anyway?”

  “That would be the best guess I have.”

  “What else do you have on him? Where would he take her?”

  “Not sure. But my guy pulled credit card records, so that should tell us where he was staying. They’re in here somewhere. I just printed out the whole pile and came.”

  All three of us flipped through the pages and scanned for the information.

  In my head, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Eden had looked as he
’d shoved her in the car. So fucking helpless while she was unconscious. The fact that she fought him and didn’t want to go with him gave me some hope.

  “Where’s Casso now? Do we know?”

  Con shook his head. “He’s under grand-jury investigation. The news has been all over the place, but he’s still walking free. Not sure exactly where he’s holed up, but the Feds are saying there’s been a power struggle and two of the other families are trying to wrestle control.”

  Was that why Eden was in New Orleans? Out of the way to keep her safe? Fuck, I hated having this many questions and no answers. More than anything, I hated that she hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me.

  “He was at the Sonesta.” Con held up a piece of paper. “Checked in under his real name and everything. He’s been there since before Mardi Gras.”

  While Eden was there.

  “What the fuck?” I grabbed my phone and pulled up Leon’s contact.

  “What up, Bish?”

  “You have a guy staying there named Angelo Francetti?”

  “Why? What’s up?”

  “Just check for me, would you?”

  I heard clicking computer keys in the background. “Okay. Okay, yeah, I got him. He’s still checked in.”

  “I’m on my way. Get me a key to his room.”

  “Man, I can’t—”

  “I’ll do your next piece for free. Just get me a fucking key to the guy’s room and don’t fucking tell anyone.”

  “Okay. Okay. But if I lose my job over this—”

  “We’ll worry about that later.”

  I hung up and looked to Con. “You coming?”

  “Fuck, yes.”

  When we got to the Royal Sonesta ten minutes later, Leon slipped a key across the desk in a little cardboard jacket.

  “He’s in 208. You better not make a fucking racket. I’ll lose my job and then you’ll be doing all my shit for free.”

  I grabbed the key. “We’ll be quiet.” It might be a lie, but it was what Leon needed to hear right now.

  Con followed me to the elevator and I punched the button. “We got a plan?” he asked as we stepped into the elevator and the doors closed.

  I looked at him. “This ain’t no special-forces op. This is smash-and-grab and get my girl.”

  I’d grabbed my .45 before we left Voodoo, and if I knew Con, he was armed too.

  “You carrying?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then we go in quiet and grab her.”

  With both of us in agreement, we stepped out of the elevator and walked down to room 208. A DO NOT DISTURB sign hung on the knob. I pulled out the keycard and listened at the door for any noise.

  Nothing.

  I inserted it into the reader and waited for the light to turn green before moving the handle slowly. When I was ready to push it open, I looked to Con, and he nodded. I shoved the door open and we both drew on the room.

  The empty room.

  “Bathroom.”

  I rushed to the open door and checked inside while Con cleared the closet and under the bed.

  “Fuck.”

  “Doesn’t look like he planned on leaving.”

  It wasn’t until that moment that I looked around and took in the contents of the room. Clothes were tossed over the armchair and the bed was unmade. A small printer was set up on the desk connected to a laptop, and photos were spread out across it.

  Eden by herself. With Vanessa. With Delilah.

  “He had her under surveillance.” It was obvious, but I had to say something.

  There were pictures of Eden with me, but in every one, my face was blacked out.

  “That ain’t normal surveillance technique,” Con said, pointing at it.

  He flipped through the stack of pictures, some where my face had been cut out. It was eerie, seeing that shit. It also told me that the guy didn’t seem to be the most balanced.

  “This guy doesn’t like you much, does he?”

  “Fuck him. Let’s search the rest of the room.”

  A ten-minute search turned up a burner phone, three pairs of women’s underwear that in my gut I had to guess were Eden’s, and a stack of papers that had been shoved into the bottom drawer of the nightstand.

  I was thinking of all the ways I wanted to break this fucker into pieces for touching my girl when Con’s phone rang. He answered and immediately put it on speaker.

  “BOLO turned up the car. It was left at Lakefront Airport. Rent-a-cop called it in. Officers are headed out there now, but chances are if he had a jet, they’re long gone.”

  “Can you get the flight plans for every plane that has left?”

  “Might take me a few, but yeah, I can.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  “Anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

  Con hung up and looked to me. “What do you want to do now?”

  “Let’s take the laptop, the burner phone, the papers and photos. Anything that could give us something to go on.”

  “Got it.”

  Con and I gathered it all up, stuffed it in a dry-cleaning bag, and headed back to Voodoo. My brain was sifting through all the possibilities. If they had a jet, she was long gone. The only place that made sense for them to take her was New York.

  But if he was acting under orders, why would he knock her out? I couldn’t imagine Daddy would be too fucking happy to have his girl manhandled like that.

  When we got back to Voodoo, Delilah had questions too.

  “How do we know if he’s acting under orders or if he’s on his own?”

  “That’s a good fucking question, but without calling Dom Casso himself or someone in his organization to confirm, there’s no way we can know.”

  I grabbed my phone and kept calling Eden’s number. It went straight to voice mail.

  Unease laced the blood in my veins. If this was Eden’s family coming to collect her, what the hell could I do?

  But something about it felt all wrong. The woman from the donut shop said she hadn’t wanted to go, which meant I wasn’t going to rest until I was sure Eden was safe and happy.

  I hadn’t come this far only to lose her.

  MY JAW ACHED AND MY head throbbed. I opened my eyes as someone lowered me into a chair.

  I blinked. Not a chair. A seat. On a jet?

  Angelo?

  “Sorry about that, E. Didn’t want to have to hurt you, but you didn’t want to cooperate. You should know better. When I tell you to do something, you have to do it. It’s for your own safety.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Going home.”

  “Where did you come from?”

  “You should know I wouldn’t let you go without making sure you’re safe. Now, buckle up. We’re leaving.”

  Even in my pounding head, none of this seemed right. Angelo shouldn’t be here. Why did he have a jet on standby? This didn’t make sense.

  “I can’t leave yet. Not like this. I have a life here.”

  Angelo’s normally affable features were hard as he reached down and buckled my belt himself. “You weren’t supposed to have a life anywhere but New York. This was always temporary. And you don’t have a choice. You’re leaving.”

  I was sick of other people making decisions for me. Calling the shots. Telling me what to do.

  “No. I’m not going.” I grabbed the latch to unbuckle it, but Angelo wrapped a meaty hand around my arm and stopped me.

  “You’re not going anywhere but exactly where I tell you. That’s how it’s gonna go from now on.”

  This wasn’t the kind, easygoing Angelo I’d always known. This was someone completely different. All my instincts shouted that I needed to get away from him. I forced myself not to panic.

  “Okay. I’ll do what you say.”

  He released his grip on me and stood. “Good. That’s how it’s gonna go. Nice and easy. You want something to drink? We’re taking off in a minute.”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  He turned to th
e bar and removed a bottle of Fiji water, just like what he always stocked for me in the SUV. Handing it to me, he said, “Drink. Don’t want you to get dehydrated on our flight.”

  I uncapped the water and took a sip. Does it taste funny? Or am I paranoid?

  I waited for Angelo to turn back to the bar to get himself a drink, and I slipped the latch from my buckle and bolted for the door.

  I made it three steps before he tackled me.

  “Eden, Eden, Eden. You know better than that.” Angelo’s words took on a chiding tone. “You’re gonna have to take a nice long nap on the way home if you can’t behave like a good girl.”

  He leaned up, but didn’t move off me.

  My cheek pressed into the carpet, I waited for another chance to move when I felt a sting on my neck and my vision blurred. Angelo stood and I rolled over onto my back, blinking up at him and trying to focus.

  “What—”

  “Sleep. It’ll all make sense soon.”

  Everything went black just after I realized I’d been drugged.

  “WE GOT A FLIGHT PLAN. Jet left at 2030 hours, headed for Teterboro airfield in New Jersey. Manifest lists two passengers, Angelo Francetti and Eden Mathews.” Rix delivered the information via Con’s phone on speaker.

  “At least now I know where the fuck I’m going.” It had been the longest four hours of my life waiting for confirmation.

  “You can’t take on the mob by yourself, man,” Rix said, and Con nodded in agreement.

  “No way in hell,” Delilah chimed in.

  “I’m not taking opinions right now.”

  “Well, that’s too fucking bad because we’ve all got them.” Con looked at me from across the table where we’d spread out the pictures and shit from the hotel room. “Titan has a jet, and I’m guessing he’ll let us take it, but he’s going to want to go with. He’s like that. Lord’ll want in. Simon will fucking fly the thing if we can’t get Titan’s regular pilot. You’ve got a crew whether you want one or not.”

  “I’m going.” This came from Rix. “If Hennessy is sober, we might be able to get him on board.”

  “I’ll call Titan. Plan to meet at the airstrip in sixty minutes unless you hear otherwise.”

  Con hung up the phone and looked at me. “There’s no way in hell we’re sending you into this without backup. Besides, if Dom Casso tries to kill you, we’ll just use Titan as a human shield. No one would dare shoot that cocky son of a bitch because he’s got more money than God. Definitely more money than the mob.”