“Where you going, dude?”
“As much as he makes my skin crawl, at least Jackie Fontanal wants me to be part of things. Maybe he’s found out where Lily’s being held. He can find this Mateo Carli, too.”
“What if I got you Carli’s address? You could meet Skip there.”
I contemplated my options. How was I going to do the most to save Lily? This whole line of investigation with Mateo Carli seemed pointless. If Bruno wasn’t involved… If Sonny was keeping him out… If, if, if—I had to decide which resource I'd use. I was convinced Sonny controlled Lily’s kidnapping, not Bruno. That meant Mateo Carli was a waste of time. So was The Last Warhol.
“No, Baldorf. I appreciate the offer, but I’m letting Skip do his thing. If he doesn’t want me involved with Bruno Panaman or Mateo Carli, that’s fine by me. I’m going after Sonny. And I think Jackie Fontanal is just the man to help me find him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Skip
HOMES PACKED AS densely as fish in a can lined the street. Large trees, planted decades ago when the neighborhood was new, dominated the front yards. They loomed like giant black holes that swallowed the illumination and cast the neighborhood into a patchwork quilt of light and dark.
Bruno Panaman pointed out the third house on the left. “It is that one.”
The house was a standard 60s bungalow, and even in the dark it looked in need of repairs. The front lawn, split down the middle by shadows and light, added to the grim ambience. There were open parking spaces on both sides of the street, so Skip drove to the end of the block, made a U-turn at the intersection, then returned and parked. His heart thudded in his chest as he eyed the house. His plan was simple—act like they were on a social visit. He’d even brought a bottle of whiskey from Bruno’s liquor cabinet—an impulsive decision that now gave him pause.
Skip glared at Bruno, his face lit by the dim glow of dashboard illumination. “You’d better not be lying to me.”
“What have I to lie about, Mr. Cosgrove? I have done nothing but protect my son. I have no more will to fight.”
The words were there. They were consistent with the way he’d been acting—and the books in his living room, all on ways to cope with death. Bruno Panaman, the man who had once run a small crime syndicate, now appeared to be obsessed with death. Skip grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels, but Bruno laughed.
“I should have told you before we left my house, but you would not have believed me. That will not work. Mateo was an alcoholic. He will not drink.”
Skip huffed and laid down the bottle. “Then I guess you can have it back after we’re done—assuming things go well.” He motioned for his passenger to get out, then opened his door and stepped into the street, all the while keeping the Sig in his right hand trained on his captive. He took up a position behind Bruno and gave his shoulder a small push.
“Move.”
They walked toward the house, then climbed three small concrete steps to the front door. Skip pressed the barrel into Bruno’s back and gestured for him to knock. “I’m right behind you. Don’t make me sorry I trusted you.”
Bruno huffed, but nodded, knocked, and called out. “Mateo. We need to speak.”
There was a long moment of silence during which Skip used his captive as a shield between himself and the house. He scanned the surrounding area, well aware that he’d left his back exposed.
The porch light, a dim bulb barely capable of casting light beyond the front stoop, flicked on. Skip tensed. Before things went any further, he could pop the earpiece back in and ask Roxy to join them. Perhaps he should have brought her as backup. Unlike the breaking into Bruno’s home, this was definitely not a one-man operation. Moments later, a deadbolt clicked, then the door creaked open.
A heavyset man peered out at them. Except for the hair on the sides of his head, he was almost entirely bald. He may have once been more robust, but now had a bowling pin physique. Skip guessed his age to be around seventy.
“Mr. Panaman? What are you doing here?”
The man’s gaze connected with Skip’s and his eyes widened. It was the look of a man who’d seen danger before, recognized it, and knew how to react. Skip pushed forward, shoving against the door with his free hand.
The door slammed into Carli’s outstretched hands and threw him off balance. He stumbled backwards. Skip grabbed Bruno’s jacket and pulled him inside while Carli steadied himself against the arm of a chair and glared at the intruders. Skip closed the door behind him and let the Sig waver between the two men.
The old man breathed heavily as he peered at Bruno, then Skip. “Who is this man, Mr. Panaman?”
“I’ll be asking the questions.” Skip pointed at the couch. “Mateo Carli?”
There was no answer, only silence and an intense stare.
“Panaman, sit down there.” Skip waited until Bruno had eased himself onto the couch, then stood where he could easily see them both.
The old man gritted his teeth and spat, “Who are you?”
“You were contacted recently by Sonny Panaman.”
“I do not understand.” Carli wiped his forehead with his fingers. He looked at both of them with raised eyebrows. “What has this to do with me, eh?”
Bruno leaned forward and planted his elbows on his knees. “Please, Mateo, answer his question.”
“I have no desire to hurt you, Carli, but a young girl has been kidnapped and I believe Sonny Panaman is responsible. Did he come to see you recently?”
Carli peered sideways at Bruno, a burning anger in his gaze. “Mr. Panaman, you should not have brought this man to my house.”
“I am sorry, Mateo. I had no choice.”
“Eh. You had a choice. You didn’t like it.”
“There is nothing left for me in this life.”
“So you want to cleanse your conscience before you die? Is that it?” Carli sneered at Bruno.
“Enough,” Skip snapped. “Was Sonny Panaman here?”
Carli shot another glance at Bruno and let out a disgusted huff. “What of it?”
“What happened?”
“He wanted an introduction to someone who might help him with a job.” Carli paused, then continued. “He did not tell me what it was. I told him I was retired and no longer had contacts.”
The man had to be lying, of that Skip was sure. Though his demeanor had turned cool, his anger over having his home invaded still burned hot. The question was, what would it take to get the truth from him? Was it even possible?
“I see. So you sent him away? Empty-handed?”
“Yes,” he said, the defiance in his voice clear. “That is what I said.”
Not exactly, thought Skip. “So who did you send him to?”
A smile crept onto the corners of the old man’s lips. “You are a sly one. What was your name?”
“I told you. I’m asking the questions. You will answer.”
“I have answered.”
“Falsely.”
Skip pointed the gun at Carli’s head. Carli stared back at Skip, ignoring the barrel just inches away.
“You’re either not afraid to die, Mr. Carli, or you don’t believe I’ll pull this trigger.”
“I have faced death many times. You are not the type to kill an innocent man, eh?”
“Oh, you’re far from innocent.”
Bruno reached out and touched Carli’s arm. “Please, Mateo, he will kill us both.”
“He won’t do that you fool. You were once a good judge of character. You are now, as Sonny told me, afraid of your own shadow.”
“You grow bold in your old age, Mateo. Once, you would not have spoken to me so.”
Carli stared at Bruno, his voice tinged with a touch of menace. “You never gave me reason to question your mettle. Even when my nephew took the bullet intended for you, I saw your strength, eh? You said kill; I did it because you were my superior.” He looked away and huffed. “He is no longer my superior. He is nothing but a weakling.”
&
nbsp; “I did not mean to bring your family such trouble,” Bruno said.
“But you did, didn’t you? You, and now your son. You have both brought me your troubles. No matter what happens tonight, you will die broken and alone.”
“I do not want to die, Mateo.”
“We will all die, Mr. Panaman.” He turned to Skip and smirked. “If you wish to pull the trigger, do it. I have nothing more to say to you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Roxy
I WALKED OUT of Baldorf’s bungalow and went straight to my car. Sitting behind the steering wheel, I was unsure of what to do or where to go next. Skip and Baldorf were making full use of Baldorf’s new company resources. They had plenty of high-tech toys at their disposal and it was entirely possible Skip had planted a tracking device on my car when he left Baldorf’s.
I’d left the second burner cell phone on the table next to my old phone, but had made the mistake of telling Baldorf I was going to see Jackie. Since Baldorf knew that much, I might as well drive the few blocks to downtown Oceanside. It wouldn’t reveal anything new, and there would only be a problem if Jackie had discovered where Lily was being held. In that case, I would need untraceable transportation. Best to cross that bridge when it was time.
After I parked and began the walk to the Angry Dog, the world felt as though it were closing in around me again. Every dark shadow was a possible enemy, every open space a place to be discovered. In all the cons I’d pulled during my life, I’d seldom had to work under such grim circumstances—or for such high stakes—money was one thing, Lily’s life was entirely different.
Maxie still stood guard at the entrance of the Angry Dog. He frowned as I approached. “Any luck finding Lil?”
“Not yet. I’m sure she’s alive. I got the proof of life a short time ago. But that’s why I’m here. I need to see if Jackie has found anything.”
“Don’t sound good.” Maxie shook his head and grumbled, “Ain’t right. I always hate hearing when a kid’s been snatched. Knowing Lil makes it even worse.”
I bit back the urge to go all weepy and gave Maxie a tight smile. “I know. Can I go in?”
He tilted his head toward the inside of the bar. I moved to enter, but he stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t cross those guys. Especially Drake.”
I nodded, then stepped inside where the odor of stale booze and sweat engulfed me. Not much had changed since I’d been here the last time. The tables were still filled with people, some looking more lost than others. The stools at the bar were all taken—the one on the end had always been Lily’s favorite place to hang out when she was here. The first time I’d seen her here, she’d been sitting there sipping a soft drink and looking as comfortable as she might in a fast-food joint.
Jackie was engaged in a conversation with three men, who all sat at his table with chairs they’d pulled from other tables and which they’d flipped around to rest their arms on the backs. They all wore baggy jackets, and I could easily guess what was underneath.
But I was also carrying. I had the Glock 19 Skip had given me stuffed in my oversized bag. My Taser was in a holster at my back. I stepped forward, and Jackie’s gaze flicked in my direction. He gave me a quick upward tilt of his chin and motioned for me to approach. The three men sitting with him all turned. A primal instinct churned within me—these men were dangerous.
The first one’s gaze was cold and impassive. Tattoos covered his neck and hands. The man in the middle had long hair pulled back into a ponytail and watched me from the corner of his eye. The third was the one who appeared most sinister. He wore his salt-and-pepper hair cropped short; his clothing reminded me more of a working professional out for a night on the town; and his gaze was hungry, as though he would take whatever he wanted.
Jackie seemed almost to revel in my discomfort as I stood next to the table. He made no move to offer me a chair, but raised both eyebrows as he watched me. “You’re back, Angel. You change your mind? Or you got something new?”
I ignored the other three and kept my focus on him. “Neither. I thought you should know I received a proof-of-life photo.”
“You got it with you?” Jackie asked.
“Yes.”
I held out my phone so he could see the image. His jaw visibly tightened, and he glanced sideways at the guy with the ponytail.
“Your information reliable?”
He got a nod in return. “Might not be a hundred percent, boss. But it ain’t hard to check out.”
“Find out. The guy who did this is gonna be sorry he’s alive.” He paused, glanced at me, then added, “Which he won’t be for long.”
“I’m not sure…”
“Angel,” Jackie said firmly. “You’re on my turf. We do this my way. And we ain’t taking no prisoners or turning people over to the cops. We work on permanent solutions here.”
My back stiffened. Maybe Skip was right. I was so emotionally invested in Lily’s disappearance that I wasn’t making good judgments—coming here had been a mistake, one I could probably not rectify easily. Jackie was a drug dealer. And he was most likely a killer. If his men went in with guns drawn, there could only be one outcome. And Lily might be the first victim in any crossfire.
“What’s the matter, Angel? You don’t look happy.”
I bit my lower lip, but held my ground despite my concern. “I don’t want Lily killed in a gun battle.”
Jackie let his gaze flit amongst the men gathered at the table. “This here’s Drake.” He inclined his head in the direction of the man that concerned me most. “He’s ex-special forces. Did a lot of extractions. He’s the man with the plan once we have our location finalized.”
He turned to Drake and asked, “You got any problem with her going along?”
“I don’t like using amateurs, boss.”
“I’ll vouch for her. She’s tough.”
Drake looked at me with cold assessment. The crows feet around his eyes tightened as he did some sort of mental evaluation. “Got any weapons training?”
“Enough. I shot better than my trainer.” It wasn’t really a lie—I had. It’s just that he’d had poor eyesight and the shakes, which had provided me a huge advantage.
Drake pushed back his chair and stood. He was several inches taller and easily outweighed me by around fifty pounds. I’d put him at a solid one-eighty. He scowled at me and although every fiber of my being told me to run I faced him, glaring back with the same intensity.
After an excruciating silence, Drake nodded. “You want to go in with us, I ain’t got no problem with that. But if you get in the way, I’ll shoot you myself.”
“And if you do anything to put Lily in danger, I’ll do the same.” I paused, then added, “Without hesitation.”
Drake turned to Jackie and gave him a sinister smile. “I think we got us an understanding, boss.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Skip
SKIP STEPPED BACK from Mateo Carli and scrutinized him. His earlier judgment had been correct. This was a man not afraid to die, but perhaps one he could use. Always know your mark. Isn’t that what Roxy had told him? If only things weren’t happening so fast. He needed to know more about this man—much more than the pittance Bruno Panaman had given up. Skip pulled the earpiece from his pocket and opened the connection to Baldorf.
“Dude! Where you been? I’m going crazy here. Roxy left. She totally got torqued ‘cause you won’t trust her.”
Skip sighed. He’d wondered if that would happen. It had been a gamble. “Do you know where she went?”
“To see that Jackie Fontanal guy. She left her burner cell, too.”
“I’m not surprised. Trying to protect her like that was not the smartest move I’ve made. I’ll deal with it when I can, but at the moment I’m in a situation and need some intel about this location.”
Skip let the Sig waver between the two men as he waited for Baldorf’s answer. In less than a minute, Baldorf rattled off the address, the name of Mateo Carl
i, and a phone number.
“How deep can you go on this?”
“That’s only like first level, dude. I assume you’re not looking at properties, so that must mean you want intel on the owner. Give me thirty seconds.”
Bruno squirmed on the couch while Carli glared at Skip. If the roles were reversed, he had no doubt Carli would pull the trigger without a second thought.
When Baldorf spoke again, he said, “Got a cell phone number, email, background on this Carli guy. Bad dude, did time, twice. Last one was for kidnapping and murder. He has a wi-fi router with weak security. You want me to hack it?”
“You can do that? Never mind, how naïve of me. Do it. I’ll be in touch in a few minutes.” Skip turned to Carli and watched his face for a reaction. “You’ve done time for kidnapping. And murder.”
Carli grunted, then smirked. “How did you find this out so quickly?”
Skip ignored the question. “Just for the record, how many men have you killed?”
Bruno watched Skip with wide eyes, but Carli still seemed unconcerned.
Carli smiled and shook his head. “You are not my maker. Nor, I suspect, my executioner.”
“That will change if I link you to this kidnapping,” Skip said matter-of-factly.
Carli’s smile fell, but Skip kept his gaze impassive. He took a long, slow breath, and looked at Bruno.
“Sorry, but you’re going to have to find your own ride home. I have to leave.”
“No!” Bruno stood. “You cannot leave me here!”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a lot of choice. Goodbye, gentlemen.” Skip turned and walked out the front door. He returned to the car, all the time watching over his shoulder. On the way, he said, “Baldorf, tell me you’re not having trouble hacking that network.”
“No way, dude. It’s a done deal. The old guy installed a couple of fancy smart home devices, and they have the default security, which is zero. Won’t be long and I’ll know what goes on in any room of that house. For now, I’ve got eyes and ears in the room. Papa Panaman is plenty panicked; he thinks the Italian dude cares to kill him.” Baldorf chuckled. “How about that awesome alliteration?”
Shadows from the Past Page 10
