Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Show me the list.”
Luca dragged it across the executive desk in my direction. I stared at the names. Two in particular popped out to me.
Tatum Blackthorn.
Angelo Bandini.
“There’s also a murky shot of a man trailing behind Lila, twenty yards away.” Brennan leaned in from behind me, fingers dancing on the keyboard. He fast-forwarded forty seconds after Lila left, zooming in and clearing up the resolution.
“That’s a good start,” my brother said.
Fintan didn’t smell like the floor of a seedy nightclub this morning. A step in the right direction.
“Did we ID him?” I asked.
Sam tsked. “He never gave us a good angle. Makes you wonder if he scoped out the place in advance.”
“Who from this list had been to the manor prior to the wedding?” I tapped the piece of paper, handing it back to the Ferrantes. Achilles snatched it, scowling.
“Tate and Angelo. All the rest are strangers. Most are acquaintances from the bride’s side. And I’m pretty sure we can cross off the seventy-six-year-old with the oxygen tank.” He pointed at some Italian man’s name. “Doubt he has the stamina for the offense.”
I ran a hand over my dress shirt. My wound was healing nicely. The stitches were neatly applied, dabbed with antibiotic and covered in adhesive bandages. The morning after Lila put me together, she left a note with a list of medical supplies I needed to replenish. Her silent way of admitting she was literate.
“Forget about the exit point they took,” Sam said. “You need to look into every name on the list. Every. Single. One,” he enunciated.
I understood exactly what he meant.
“Don’t cross anyone off until I say so,” I ordered. The CCTV footage continued rolling on the screen, people leaving and entering through the main entrance. A movement caught my eye, and I sat up straighter.
“Brennan, roll it back.”
He did, backtracking it thirty seconds.
“Stop.”
I swatted him away and rolled my index along the mouse pad, moving between the twelve cameras in search of a better angle. When I found what I wanted, I zoomed in. “See that?”
“See what?”
“Our suspect. It’s from a different angle. He’s smirking.”
It was grainy as shit, and everyone had to squint at the monitor, but they saw it, too. His upper face was hidden by one of the many marble arches in the room, but it looked like he was grinning straight into the camera.
“He’s tall.” Luca ran his knuckles through his stubble. “Six two, maybe six three. Look at the height difference between him and Pasqualino.”
“And Caucasian,” Sam added. “Wears a fine suit. But we can’t make out much else.”
“Yet,” I said.
I was going to track this human cum stain down if it was the last thing I did on this overrated planet. “Run all your programs on that tape until you get a match. In the meantime,” I picked up the suspect list, “I want every man of interest on this list in surveillance. PI on their tail around the clock, tap their lines, hack their phones, write a dissertation about their lives, and bring it back to me by the end of the month.”
“Everyone?” Fintan repeated.
“Everyone.”
“On it.” My brother collected the paperwork.
“What’s the sudden rush?” Luca arched a brow. “You’ve been perfectly content sitting on this task for weeks with no movement. Vello told us we needed to put fire under your feet to make sure you haven’t forgotten.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I clipped out.
I had, in fact, forgotten.
But then Vello’s daughter saved my life, and I felt the need to repay her somehow.
Slaughtering the man who hurt her would even the score. And the Callaghan clan would be seizing full control of Harlem as a bonus.
“Any word on Alex?” I asked Sam.
“Still in Russia, off the grid.” He shook his head. “No movement in his bank accounts, either.”
I jerked my chin in a nod. He’d resurface. Most of his business was in Vegas. And I needed the time to scope out his mansion, warehouses, and anywhere else I might corner him.
“You and the Ferrante girl…” Sam clicked his laptop shut, sliding it into his leather courier bag. “Is this a love match or a strategic alliance?”
“Strategic,” Luca supplied.
Sam gave me a once-over, lifting a mocking brow. “Coulda sworn Callaghan has skin in the game.”
I said nothing. Entertaining idiots wasn’t a part of my job description.
“This is how it starts.” Sam slid on his biker jacket, zipping it up.
“She’s just business.”
“So was Aisling, my wife.” He checked his Rolex, screwing a ballcap on. “Six kids later, and it’s safe to say my business turned into pleasure.”
I watched him retreat, feeling sorry for him.
Just because he got attached to a pussy didn’t mean it’d happen to me.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
TWENTY YEARS AGO
“Psst. Tiernan. Tierney. Over here.”
Lyosha whispered from behind a batch of shaved logs. Tiernan knew better than to humor him.
He was eight now.