Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Something interesting going on?”
“Maybe.” He tapped a few keys and pulled up a live feed to cover four of his screens. “A few weeks ago, I got into the security at the airport, and I entered the two license plates from the cars we tracked to the Italians. So if they parked at the airport, short-term parking or long-term, I’d find out. And tonight, I discovered that one of them registered in the long-term lot.”
That definitely qualified as interesting to me. “It’s been a long time since I heard anything about them.”
“Because they haven’t done much, technically,” he replied. “We believe they’re up to something, though. The same two men have driven between Philly and Chicago nine times now. They go from one safehouse to another, and we haven’t found shit inside. Either they’re sending us on a wild goose chase, or they’re smarter than we give them credit for.”
I frowned and watched the feed, which was just a grainy view of one of the cars we’d been tracking.
“Finn doesn’t wanna take ’em out since they’ll likely just be replaced by new goons,” Eric said.
Finn was probably right, but maybe it was time we did something. We couldn’t let them plan some heist while we just stood idly by with our dicks in our hands.
“They haven’t gotten close to any of our locations?” I asked. “No lurking around Finn’s house or any of our associates?”
“You’d be the first to find out.” Eric shook his head. “But nothing since you led the hunt for the guys we took care of.”
“Hm.” I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms over my chest, thinking about our options. “Before we come up with a plan for our visitors, it could be a good idea to explore where they might be coming from. Youse gotta have your guesses, eh?”
“Sure. We’re talking about Avellino survivors, so there must be some family member we’re missing—someone with enough money and power to organize what’s left of the borgata.”
That’s what I was thinking too.
“So let’s start at the top,” I said. “We took out the boss, all his closest relatives, and—”
“Actually, we didn’t.”
“Right, his two sons, but one’s a kid, the other’s in a maximum security prison.”
Eric pursed his lips and swiveled his chair to face me better. “Before we continue, I gotta ask. Are you okay?”
I blinked. “Uh, yeah?” Did I have a sign on my forehead or something? I was fine. As long as my mind didn’t stray to earlier tonight, all was well.
He shrugged. “Finn’s told me you’re under a lotta pressure from taking care of Shannon.”
Oh.
I’d sure as shit taken good care of him tonight…
“It’s fine,” I said. Then I jerked my chin at the screens. “Who’s your number one guess?”
Eric wasn’t one to pry, so he let me get back on track. “Well, we’ve definitely taken out most of them, but Finn pointed out something interesting the other week. We’ve been keeping tabs on the son who’s in prison, but we’ve neglected to look out for the mother.”
Damn. That was true.
During our entire war with that Italian shit stain of a mafia organization, Gio Avellino, the boss, had kept his sister close but an ex-wife and the mother of his two sons well hidden. We had no fucking clue where she could be. But if we’d learned one thing, it was that the Italians, especially those from Naples, had no issue involving women if they had to.
“So if we put ourselves in Gio’s situation,” I said. “Maybe we’re feeling the heat from the Irish in the US, we’re confident we’re gonna win this war, but we’re still strategic enough to make preparations. Do we hide away the wife with enough money to live comfortably for the rest of her life, or do we send her off with more than that—do we give her the funds and a plan to rebuild the organization in case we die?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, innit? The problem is, I don’t know where to start. I’ve searched through all public records, birth certificates, the eldest son’s visitors in prison, social media accounts—I can’t find this woman anywhere. I don’t even know her name. She’s a fucking ghost.”
Ghost.
Then perhaps it was time to call in a favor. I knew a chick on the West Coast who could find anyone, or so she claimed. People called her Ghost.
“I can try to get you in touch with someone,” I said. “In the meantime, we need something to do on the ground. Why didn’t Finn send a crew to follow the Italian who parked at the airport? He was going somewhere, wasn’t he?”
Eric side-eyed me and grimaced. “We can’t really spare anyone yet. All our experienced guys have a trail of puppies shadowing them.”
He wasn’t wrong—our syndicate had never been so young—but I refused to admit we had no leeway whatsoever. Between our crews here and those in Chicago under Liam’s leadership, surely we could put together one team that could get some shit done in Europe. Hell, we had associates in Ireland we could include too.