by Dave Daren
My phone chirped as I was perusing some of the options for avatars, and I looked over to see that Jovanni had sent the pictures of the Serbian hitmen. Most of them were unfamiliar to me, but I recognized one of them from Gryphon. I’d seen him around with the security team, and he’d been labeled as one of the most dangerous by the Italian capo.
“That man looks like he would use a piano wire,” Hank muttered as he looked over my shoulder.
“I want to ask how you can tell that by a picture, but I’m fairly certain that I don’t actually want to know,” I chuckled and moved onto the next photo. “This guy looks like a clown.”
“I’ve met him,” my bodyguard said with a roll of his eyes. “He wouldn’t be able to shoot a car if it was parked right in front of him.”
“Good to know,” I said.
We went through the rest of the pictures, and Hank knew all of them. He rated them from a one to a ten, and by the time we were done I was ready for whoever we spotted at Andrew’s, though I was still holding out hope that Jovanni could get the address before the NYPD or the hitmen could move in.
I tried to find out a bit more about Andrew Stevenson, but the man had no social media presence. His Facebook had a few updates from before his app dropped, but the only thing on his wall was from his fans and people from high school that wanted him to invest in something. I wasn’t surprised that the guy had gone into hiding.
The minutes ticked by, and I started to pace again as I ran through every possible scenario. I had no idea what kind of cops Dian had on his payroll, or how easily they could find Stevenson’s address. The guy was smart enough to hide it in a shell corporation, so that might slow them down a little bit. They would probably have to use the same network that Jovanni used, and that made the race a little more urgent.
All I had to do was to find Stevenson and get him to tell me where the Enzo was before everyone else closed in. Or before he disappeared into some back hole country where his millions would keep him off the grid. I didn’t have the time to wait for the rumor mill to shake something out.
The doorbell rang just as I was about to grab my keys and drive into the city, and I immediately reached for my Glock. The door handle turned, and I could hear the key in the lock, but I didn’t let go of my gun.
“I come in peace,” Tommaso’s voice called down the hallway as the door pushed inward. “I heard that you might need some backup.”
“Your uncle called you?” I asked when the long-haired man came in.
He had on jeans and a button-up shirt that he’d wear at work, but his curly hair was down around his shoulders, and he had black nail polish on his fingernails. The combat boots he had on looked like they had spray paint on them, and I was pretty sure he had on mascara.
“Sorry,” he said when he saw me looking at his nails and face. “Annie decided it was an art kind of day, and that apparently included manicures and a makeover.”
“You let her put makeup on you?” I chuckled. “You must be in love.”
“She is pretty fantastic,” the paralegal blushed. “I had to draw the line after the mascara. She pulled out a pink lipstick, and I knew that I’d never hear the end of it if the guys saw me.”
“We wouldn’t,” Hank confirmed and pulled out his phone to snap a picture. “At least she let you have black nails. Gives you more of a punk look like Gabriele, pretty boy.”
“Thanks, old man,” Tommaso said and rolled his eyes.
The tense air in the room faded a little as the two bantered back and forth. Hank admitted to having worn eyeliner and nail polish for his wife before they were married, and sometimes after during their date nights. The younger man talked about how much he enjoyed being around Annie, and even let loose that he might want to talk to Sal about long-term plans sometime soon.
For the moment, I pushed down my worry that Andrew Stevenson would be gone or dead by the time I reached him. Jovanni would come through, and I would find out who had the Enzo. And then I’d convince them that it was in their best interests to return the stolen car and accept the lost funds, if I couldn’t get Stevenson to refund them.
“Do you have a plan?” Tommaso asked me, and I had to pull myself out of the scenarios that I was running.
“I have several,” I laughed. “They’re ever-evolving. Do you have a gun on you?”
“Always,” the paralegal said as he pulled up his pant leg to show the small gun he had strapped to his ankle.
“Good,” I said. “There may be cops trying to bully their way into the building, or Serbian hitmen, so we need to be ever-evolving. I don’t want it to come to a shootout, but if we can’t take care of someone quietly, then we need to be prepared.”
“I can ride with Hank into the city,” the curly-haired man said. “I’ll call Gabriele as soon as we have the address, and he’ll grab the blueprints for us. We’ll know where every camera is before we even arrive.”
“Perfect,” I said. “He’ll probably have bodyguards of his own if he knows that there’s a hit out on him. We’ll need to handle this delicately.”
My phone rang, and I dove for the couch to grab it before it could go to voicemail.
“I just texted Tommaso the address,” Jovanni said. “You’ll need to hurry, though. My guys weren’t the only ones shaking the rumor mill.”
“The cops,” I said. “We’ll be on our way.”
“Be careful,” the capo said and then hung up.
“I just got the address,” my paralegal said and then forwarded the message to me.
“Let’s go,” I said and grabbed my keys.
It was time to find out just how fast the Mercedes could fly.
Chapter 14
“Tommaso, you’re riding with Hank?” I confirmed while I shoved my feet into my shoes.
“I am,” my paralegal said as he twisted his long hair up into a messy bun on the top of his head.
He looked like a punk businessman in his slacks, button-up, and the black nail polish that his girlfriend Annie had put on him. She was the youngest daughter of the Febbo family, and I’d seen how persuasive she could be when she wanted something. The poor guy never stood a chance of winning an argument, but he didn’t seem too bothered by that prospect, and his eyes lit up when he talked about the fiery Italian woman.
“Okay,” I said and checked to make sure that I had my wallet, keys, and phone. “We’re racing against the cops to get there. Your uncle said that they have men shaking the rumor mill, and you know that it’s only a matter of time before they find the right person.”
“What about the Serbians?” Hank asked with a frown. “If someone put a hit on the guy, then they probably know where he lives. That means they’re a step ahead of us.”
“They are,” I sighed and ran a hand down my face. “We can only hope that whoever ordered it was just as clueless about where he lived as the rest of the world. He’s definitely one of those rich paranoid genius types, so he’s probably got a shell corporation inside of a shell corporation to hide behind on the lease.”
“And he’ll have bodyguards,” Tommaso pointed out.
“Exactly,” I said. “So we’ll have to do this urgently, but gently. I’ll need to convince him that it’s best to let me in so that I can help him.”
The air was painfully cold when we stepped outside of the warm house, and I hugged my new peacoat closer to my body as I hurried to the car. There was a snowstorm coming, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it arrived a day early.
“Be careful on the road,” my bodyguard said as he opened the door to his black Chrysler 300. “There may be ice on it already.”
“I will,” I said. “I’ll have to drive the speed limit all the way into the city. My car and face are probably known by every corrupt cop in Dian’s operation, so I can’t give them any reason to pull me over.”
“I’ll race ahead,” Hank said. “Jovanni said his guys would be there to take our cars and park them so we can go right in, and that’ll give me the chance to scope
the building out and make sure that we don’t have any unwanted guests.”
“And I’ll be on the phone with Gabriele,” my paralegal said. “He’ll have the blueprints and cameras so we can slip through without too much trouble. And, if we need to make a quick exit, then we’ll have a backup plan.”
“Good,” I said and then smiled like we weren’t talking about a life-and-death situation because the woman across the street had just stepped outside.
“Mr. Morgan,” the neighborhood watchdog said as she bustled over in a great big burgundy coat. “It’s late in the evening. I thought you said that all of your business was going to be conducted during business hours. And what about that man that was lurking around your house earlier while you were out?”
“He was a cop,” I informed her and watched the color drain from her face. “We’ve become acquaintances since we met on a case. He just wanted to come over and check in with me. These gentlemen are associates of mine, and we’re just headed into the city.”
She sniffed as she looked over Hank and Tommaso, and then hugged her coat tighter when a chilly wind wrapped around us. The cold had started to seep into my bones, and I was losing my patience with the nosy woman, but the last thing that I needed was to have her run to the home owners’ association every time I did anything.
“Well,” she said. “Don’t make a habit of these late-night gatherings. It’s a quiet neighborhood. Well, it was before you moved in.”
“I’m Mr. Morgan’s paralegal,” Tommaso said with one of his bright smiles as he came around to greet the woman. “I believe that I’ve seen you working on your beautiful rose garden. I’m so glad that you managed to get them covered in time. Maybe I can bring over a plate of fresh cannolis on Monday, and we can talk about how you managed to keep them so vibrant this late in the year?”
“Well… I-I suppose,” the woman said and melted under the charms of the young man in front of me.
“I’ll have him make a double batch,” I said and then looked up into the air as another icy breeze wound around us. “And I’ll make some of my hot apple cider for you. That snowstorm is coming, and I’d hate for you to get sick.”
The older woman narrowed her eyes at me and pursed her lips like she was trying to hold onto the hatred that she’d decided to have for me. I’d given her something to do that wasn’t gardening, though that new hobby was just watching my house for any signs of illegal activity. Too bad she didn’t call the cops when she saw Officer White lurking around in plain clothes when she knew that I wasn’t home.
“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Morgan,” the woman finally said and then looked over at her husband as he joined our little group.
He was a few years older than her with the same steel-gray hair, though he didn’t have quite the same disposition. His smile was bright and warm as he crossed the street, and he was still muscular despite his age. He might’ve been a dock worker at some point given his size, but he had the demeanor of a friendly shopkeeper.
I gritted my teeth and tried to keep my foot from tapping during the unnecessary conversation with my neighbors. They had terrible timing, and all I wanted to do was race into the city to make sure that Andrew Stevenson stayed alive. At least until he helped me get the Enzo back, though I’d offer to get him out of the city if he was cooperative.
“Hello,” the big man said as he offered me a callused hand. “My name is Wylan, you’ve met my wife, Betty. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Betty says you’re a lawyer. What do you specialize in?”
“Corporate law,” I said while I returned his handshake. “Usually just boring mergers and company acquisitions.”
“You seem to have a booming business,” Wylan said with a glance toward Hank and Tommaso. “Though, I’m not sure why you need so much security. I didn’t think corporate law was that dangerous.”
“Lawyers are universally hated,” I chuckled. “I’m so sorry to cut this conversation short, but my associates and I are running late to a meeting. Maybe I can have you both over for dinner sometime later this week? My paralegal, Tommaso, is an excellent cook. And I’m sure my friend Alessia, the Brooklyn DA, would love to have you join us for a meal. She’s been worried since I moved out of the city. I think it’ll help her to know that I have such fantastic neighbors.”
“You’re friends with that new DA?” Wylan said with an impressed look. “I work out there in Brooklyn. She’s been doing great work.”
“She has,” I agreed. “We’ve been friends since law school. And we still try to keep in touch despite our busy schedules.”
“It’s so hard to do, nowadays,” the gray-haired man agreed and then gave a pointed look to his wife like she should be ashamed of being so paranoid. “Well, we’ll let you gentlemen get back to your business. Just let us know when you want to have that dinner.”
“I will,” I said and then waved before I slid into the driver’s seat of my car.
I cranked the engine and then let the cabin fill with heat. My fingers had gone numb from the cold while I was talking with the neighbors, and I needed to be able to feel them if I was going to drive. I watched in the rear-view mirror as the two busybodies walked back across the street to their own home and was pleased to see that Wylan was scolding his wife. Hopefully she’d listen and stay out of my business, but I doubted that the nosy woman would give up that easily.
Hank waved at me from his car before he pulled out of the driveway, and I followed him until we were out of the neighborhood. The black Chrysler 300 roared to life when my bodyguard gunned it, and I had to fight against the urge to press my gas pedal down to the floor. The beefy Italian man wasn’t going to be picked up by the cops as long as he didn’t speed too much, but if I went over even a little, then the corrupt men on Dian’s payroll would use it as an excuse to pull me over.
I tapped my fingers on my steering wheel as I tried to keep my patience. The neighbors had wasted too much of my time, but I had at least made nice with the husband, and that would make working from home a little easier. I just had to be patient and trust that Jovanni gave us the address before anyone else could find out where the paranoid millionaire lived.
A familiar car pulled out from a strip mall, and I watched it in my rear-view mirror as I headed toward the LIE. I couldn’t remember where I’d seen it before since it wasn’t the bright red car that had tailed me from the city, but there was something about it that set me on edge. It wasn’t the newest car on the road, but it was a hell of a lot better than the rusted red beater, and I had to remind myself that just because I recognized it didn’t mean that it was following me.
I cursed under my breath when I turned onto the road that led to the LIE and the car followed. It wasn’t exactly a sign that I had a tail, so I decided to make another turn and see what they did. The damned driver followed me, and as we drove under a streetlight, I recognized the face of Officer White.
“Fuck,” I whispered and pulled my phone out of my pocket to call Hank.
“What’s wrong?” the bodyguard asked on the first ring.
“I have a tail,” I huffed. “Our friendly Officer White must’ve decided that I needed company.”
The beefy Italian man let out a string of curse words that were becoming more and more familiar the longer that I worked for the Febbos. The voice of my paralegal came through the line as he asked if they should come help me, and my bodyguard told him to find the quickest way back.
“Where are you?” Hank asked.
“In Floral Park,” I said and turned down another street that ran parallel to the LIE. “Don’t worry about coming back for me. Go to the apartments. I’ll shake this guy and then head over. If I’m not there in twenty minutes, then you can come find me.”
“You could be dead by then,” my bodyguard pointed out.
“He’s not trying to kill me,” I said. “He’s probably hoping that I’ll lead him to Stevenson.”
“Be careful, Hunter,” the beefy Italian said. “There’s no telling what
lengths this guy will go to.”
“I will,” I said and then disconnected the line so that I could focus.
The streets of Floral Park were familiar to me now. I’d made it a point to learn every side road after my last tail, and that gave me an advantage over the city patrol car. He had followed me so far, but I made a quick turn and then gunned it before the corrupt cop could realize where I was going.
I made a few more turns and was pretty sure that I’d lost him, but then the asshole popped up next to me. He’d come from an alleyway that I was surprised his car could even fit through, and his face was red with rage as he turned the wheel and rammed into my car. I managed to correct myself before I slammed into the line of parked cars, and then gunned it.
The Mercedes was faster than the old Lincoln, but the corrupt cop didn’t let that stop him. His engine whined as he floored it, and he managed to kiss my bumper with his. He grinned at me through the windshield as my car fishtailed, but I used the momentum to swerve onto another side street.
I didn’t hold back as I weaved in and out of the roads of Floral Park. The area wasn’t big enough for me to get lost in, but the Lincoln just couldn’t make the quick turns that I did, and soon I’d managed to lose my tail. I made a run for the LIE and hoped that the jackass didn’t catch up with me.
My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles were white, and my heart raced as I joined the rest of the people on their way to the city. I kept glancing in my rear-view mirror, but Officer White didn’t catch back up to me. He’d probably fucked up his engine when he ran into me, and I tried not to think of the damage my own car had taken.
The rest of the drive was relatively uneventful, though every time a car switched lanes with me I was convinced that they were following me. I managed to load the GPS and the automated voice guided me to the high-rise apartments in Manhattan. A sigh of relief came out of me when I finally spotted Hank and Tommaso standing next to a grungy-looking teen with a beanie pulled down over his ears.
