Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126060 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
He dragged the heavy body from Amaranthe, leaving it in the mouth of the shadow so it couldn’t be seen while he examined it for any identification. Salvatore came up behind them, the second knife in his hand.
“Any idea who he is?” Salvatore asked.
Geno shook his head. “He knew the young woman he murdered though. Killed her without hesitation and it didn’t seem to bother him at all. She was shocked. Frankly, so was I. I expected him to go for me.” His voice sounded deeper, had a heavier rasp to it. He cleared his throat. He detested the fact that he’d held that young woman in front of him and allowed the murderer to plunge the knife into her. He felt partially responsible.
“Geno, you can’t take that on,” Amaranthe counselled.
“She was young, Danzatrice Ombra, about your age. She had her entire life ahead of her. I think that man was using her the way they use the teenagers, recruiting them with promises of big money. The way they bribed two of our longtime employees.”
“I’ve asked our investigators to look into our other employees just to make certain no one else is on their payroll,” Salvatore said.
“Good thinking, Salvatore,” Geno acknowledged. “We need to get back to Miranda. We’ll let someone find this body, but we have to take the knives with us. This location is far from Miranda’s shop. If the police ever connect them, they won’t be able to bring Miranda or us into it.”
The light would change in another few minutes, altering where the shadow lay, exposing the body. They stepped into the main shadow tube and rode it back to Miranda’s boutique.
There were police cars and tape surrounding the back of Miranda’s store. A small crowd had gathered, but two uniformed officers kept people from pushing near the yellow tape. Two men in suits stood just off the steps leading to the back porch. Lucca, his arm around Miranda, his body sheltering hers from prying eyes, was talking to the two men in the suits.
The man in the gray suit is Detective Patrick Bowden. He’s a good cop. Very thorough. Watch every word you say to him because he doesn’t forget anything. His partner is Terence Laker. They’re sharp. They’re friendly enough toward our family and willing to give us the benefit of the doubt—in fact, I grew up with Patrick—but they investigate any evidence that appears to incriminate us. We’re very careful in our territory.
Geno and Salvatore kept Amaranthe between them as they approached the officers, showed ID and were allowed through. Their bodyguards had timed bringing their car just up the block as if they’d ridden there.
“Mr. Ferraro,” Detective Bowden greeted. “I expected you.” He glanced at his partner and then at Amaranthe. He nodded to Salvatore. “Unfortunately, Ms. Crespi found a body right on her back porch as she was leaving her establishment. She called it in immediately. She’s very shaken up.”
Geno went directly to Miranda and pulled her into his arms, one hand pressing her face into his chest, his body language protective. She was trembling. “You should be sitting down, Miranda. Have you already given your statement to the police?”
“Lucca told me to wait for you and Vinci. Why would I need Vinci?”
“It’s just a precaution to have him close when giving your statement, Miranda,” Geno assured. “I need you to sit down. Patrick, I’m going to have Lucca bring a couple of the chairs out here so Amaranthe and Miranda can sit while Miranda gives you her statement.”
“I’ll help him,” Terence Laker volunteered, just as Geno knew he would. More than anything it was a stall tactic to wait for their lawyer. He wanted to make certain Miranda was safe from saying anything inadvertently.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The police kept them for a long time at Miranda’s Miracles. Geno was physically exhausted as well as emotionally drained, so much so he considered checking into a hotel for the night. The last thing he wanted to do was face Stefano and have another altercation with him. Geno couldn’t imagine how tired Amaranthe or his brothers were if he was so drained.
If Stefano were already in bed, he’d be on the eighth floor in one of the bedroom suites. If he were up, insisting on a confrontation, he would be waiting to do so on the ninth floor. Even Stefano wouldn’t invade Geno’s personal space. There was no way he would be in Geno’s bedroom.
Geno needed to know for certain if Stefano was still there. He didn’t want Lucca and Salvatore going to their own homes. He much preferred keeping his family together where he knew they were safer. At the same time, he didn’t want them to have to deal with Stefano. That was his job whether he liked it or not. He was head of the family, and the responsibility was his.