The engine started up, and the yacht began to move. I stepped to the back wall and glanced out of the high windows to see the retreating lights of the city. Worry filled my heart. Was this the last view I’d see before they threw me overboard?
Tears flooded my eyes and despair filled my heart. How would Ramos find me now? Would the signal from my watch still work out here? Even if it did, they’d see him coming. Would he chance a rescue on the water? I wasn’t sure it was possible. But, whatever happened, I’d just have to be ready and hope for an opportunity to get away.
Enzo thought they were in trouble, but they could still work things out, and it all hinged on me. I was their bargaining chip. At least that meant they wouldn’t kill me right away. I tugged at the zip tie on my wrists. I knew how to get it off, but I’d have to wait for the right time, otherwise, they’d just figure out another way to restrain me.
Besides that, my arm throbbed with pain. I twisted to look over my shoulder at my bandage. Bright red spots of blood stained the white compress, but at least it wasn’t running down my arm. I just hoped the stitches hadn’t torn again.
The yacht picked up speed, and I glanced out the windows. The lights of the city had shifted, and I knew we were headed up the Hudson River, just like the party boat had done earlier. We kept at a steady pace for the next fifteen minutes before the boat slowed and the sound of the engine stopped.
A few minutes later, footsteps sounded outside my door. The knob turned, and Enzo stood inside the doorframe. “Come out. We need to talk.” He moved out of the way and motioned toward the couch.
I stepped past him and sat down on the edge of the cushion, relieved to find Zio nowhere in sight. Enzo was thinking that Uncle Joey had been adamant that I wasn’t harmed, or the deal was off and he’d massacre the whole Bilotti family. Enzo believed him, so he’d left Zio at the wheel, since the assassin was a little on the rough side.
“So what’s going on?” I asked.
Enzo didn’t see any reason not to tell me, since I’d probably be dead before it was all over anyway. “Tony’s dead because he betrayed us. Did you know he was working for your uncle?” I nodded, since there was no point denying it now. “Do you know what he did with the drugs?”
“Uh… yeah… he traded them for the money. That’s why all the cash was in his boat.”
Enzo shook his head. Was I lying to help my uncle? “We got a phone call from our associates who paid for the drugs. Every one of the packages was filled with some kind of white powder, like cornstarch. The only person who had an opportunity to switch the drugs was Tony.”
My eyes widened with surprise. I had no idea. “I guess your friends aren’t real happy about that.”
He snorted. “Manetto couldn’t leave it alone, could he? He must have convinced Tony to give him the drugs. So now we need them back. That’s where you come in. We’re trading you for the drugs.”
“But… that’s crazy. Uncle Joey doesn’t have them. I don’t know what Tony did with them, but he didn’t give them to Uncle Joey.”
“Then where are they?”
“How should I know? Did you check the boat? Maybe Tony hid them somewhere onboard. Too bad Milo killed him. Now I guess you’ll never know.”
Enzo growled. “It doesn’t matter. Manetto either brings us the drugs, or you die.”
“When is this supposed to happen?”
“Two hours from now.” He huffed out a breath, thinking that Manetto had insisted on more time. He’d claimed he didn’t have the drugs. Milo didn’t believe him and wouldn’t back down. Now Enzo wasn’t so sure either. But if Manetto didn’t have them, then where were they? He had to be lying.
He pinned his gaze on me. Maybe I knew more than I said and was covering for Manetto. He wouldn’t be surprised if I changed my tune once he sent Zio down to talk to me. But he’d save that as a last resort. For now, he’d wait to see what Manetto came up with.
Frustrated, he got to his feet, intending to grab my arm and shove me back into the bedroom. I jumped up and ran into the room before he took a step. His brows drew together. He’d forgotten that I had that sixth sense. Under different circumstances, it would be a good reason to keep me alive, but not anymore.
As he came toward me, I shut the door in his face, wishing the lock was on my side. Why wasn’t it? Since I didn’t want to think about that, I listened for Enzo to lock the door and relaxed once I heard it click. I glanced at my watch. Two hours from now put the exchange at three in the morning.
I knew that wasn’t enough time for Uncle Joey to come up with a bag full of drugs, so what was he going to do? I closed my eyes and fell back on the bed. I hoped Uncle Joey could figure this out. Otherwise, I’d have to face torture, along with a horrible death.
Not liking those odds, I tried to come up with an escape plan. With the door locked, I’d have to go out a window. I examined the small windows, finding them nearly unbreakable. Even if I managed to break one of them, I’d have to swim to shore. From where we sat, in middle of the river, I didn’t think I could make it.
I finally had to admit there was no way out. I went through all the drawers, finding a few clothes, but nothing I could use as a weapon. I moved to the bathroom, but only found some toothpaste and a couple of toothbrushes. No comb, no scissors, nothing.
Cold and exhausted, I lay down on the soft bed and pulled the soft blanket over me for warmth and comfort. I wasn’t going to give up. I just had to believe that Uncle Joey would save me. He’d figure out a way, and I’d do my best to make sure it happened.
Exactly two hours later, Zio opened the door. I sat up, surprised that I’d dozed off. As he stared at me, my heart raced, and I picked up that he enjoyed terrorizing me. “Time to get up.”
With fear clogging my throat, I managed to roll off the bed and stand on shaking legs. Zio motioned me ahead of him and took delight in pushing me up the staircase and onto the deck. I took in my surroundings and shivered in the cool breeze.
We were headed toward the river bank, and I could just make out a dock with lights shining onto the pier. Zio was thinking that Milo should already be there with a couple of men. We’d arrived early to make sure all was ready for Uncle Joey’s arrival. I picked up that the plan was to keep me on the boat until the last minute to ensure Uncle Joey’s cooperation.
Closer to the pier, Enzo expertly backed the boat into the berth. He jumped onto the pier, and Zio threw him a rope which he used to secure the boat. Zio slid the gangway from the boat to the dock, and Enzo secured it.
“Wait here,” Enzo said.
Before I could make a run for it, Zio grabbed my arm. I gasped in pain, but managed to hold in my cry. Still, tears clouded my vision. He pulled me to the back of the boat where we had a clear view of the parking lot.
Enzo crossed to the dock and headed toward a parking lot next to a large building that looked like a warehouse. The lot was illuminated by several lights shining down from poles placed throughout the area. A car waited closer to the warehouse with its headlights blazing. As Enzo approached, Milo got out of the car, and they began to speak.
At this time of night, the place was deserted, and I doubted that anyone could get past Milo without being spotted. Despair filled me, and I hoped Uncle Joey had a good plan, because I wasn’t sure we’d get out of this alive.
Several minutes passed, and I could hardly stand the pain of Zio’s heavy grip. “Can you let up on my arm for a minute? I’m sure it’s bleeding, and I don’t think Milo would appreciate blood all over his boat.”
“What? You mean that hurts?” He squeezed until I cried out and sank to my knees. He didn’t let go, and spots danced before my eyes. As I began to scream, he released his hold. I fell forward, gasping in deep breaths, with my head bowed over my knees.
Rage filled my heart. More than anything, I wanted Zio dead. Not just dead, but painfully dead. I wanted him to suffer before he died.
“Get up.” He’d spotted Uncle Joey’s car pulling into the lot and g
rinned with anticipation. He reached down to grab my arm, but I shifted out of his reach and got to my feet. Before I could run, he grabbed my arm again. “Don’t even think about it.”
I clenched my jaw and held back a moan. Glancing toward the lot, I caught sight of Uncle Joey’s limo circling the perimeter. It came to a stop facing Milo’s car with about one hundred feet separating them.
Both cars had their headlights shining at each other, but the lot was well-lit, so it didn’t make much of a difference. Milo and Enzo stood beside their car, waiting for Uncle Joey to get out. After several tense moments, both of the limo doors opened at the same time. Ramos stepped out of the driver’s side, and Uncle Joey came from the passenger side. The back door opened as well, and Flint appeared. He held a gun pointed toward Milo’s car.
Not to be outdone, another man stepped from the back seat of Milo’s car, with his gun pointed toward Uncle Joey. From the way things looked, I wasn’t sure any of us would get out of this alive.
Zio’s phone pinged with a text. “It’s time. Let’s go.” He nudged me toward the gangway. There was barely enough room for both of us to walk down together, so he tightened his hold to keep me from trying anything and didn’t let up on the pressure.
As he marched me toward Milo, I struggled to keep up with him, nearly doubling over from the pain. Once there, Zio pushed me in front of the group to make sure Uncle Joey could see that I was alive. I glanced worriedly toward Uncle Joey. I tried to pick up his thoughts, but he was too far away.
Everyone waited, and the tension grew. Milo pointed his gun toward my head, ready to pull the trigger if Uncle Joey tried anything. Several seconds later, Ramos pulled a duffel bag from the car and placed it on the hood.
Milo let out a breath. “Before we make the exchange,” he called. “I’m sending Enzo over to test the drugs. If you’re trying to cheat me, Shelby dies.”
Milo hadn’t told Enzo this part of the plan, and Enzo wasn’t happy about it. “Go on,” Milo said. “They won’t harm you while we have Shelby.”
Enzo swore under his breath and made the long walk to Uncle Joey’s car. Ramos opened the bag and Enzo rummaged through it. Pulling out a small bag of powder, he opened a knife and punctured it. He stuck his finger in the powder and placed it on his tongue.
Glancing back at Milo, he shouted. “It’s good.”
He placed the coke back in the bag and zipped it up, then reached to take the bag. Ramos grabbed his wrist, jerking it back in a painful grip. “Not until we have Shelby.”
“Ow… let me go.”
Ramos released him and he stumbled away, rubbing his wrist and swearing. He walked back to the halfway point between the cars and motioned for Zio to bring me to him. Zio squeezed my arm and tugged me after him.
I wanted to stomp on his foot, but I held back, and walked beside him toward Enzo, listening closely to Zio’s thoughts. I caught a thrill of anticipation from him. He relished the danger of going toe to toe with Ramos.
He wasn’t thinking about killing me, but I knew it was on his mind. In fact, he was thinking pretty hard about when to make his move. Milo had given him strict instructions. He had to wait until the drugs were in Milo’s car before he could kill us.
He thought he’d start with Ramos, since he was the biggest threat. He’d go for Uncle Joey next, along with the gunman in the car. He’d save me for last. He wanted to see the terror in my eyes before he shot me.
My heart thumped harder. Were we all going to die?
Ramos picked up the duffel bag and began the walk toward us. From my pale face and pain-filled expression, he knew the assassin was squeezing my injured arm, and red-hot rage filled him. His gaze caught mine, and he tamped down his rage, thinking that I shouldn’t worry. They had a plan. Hawk was here, and he and Uncle Joey were wired to witness the exchange. Once I was out of danger, Hawk would call in the waiting task force, and they’d move in for the arrest.
Hawk? Here? To help? How had that happened? I stifled the urge to look into the shadows and kept my gaze on Ramos.
He was thinking that I should let him know if the hitman had a twitchy finger, because he really wanted to put a bullet between his eyes. Hearing that calmed me down. Maybe we’d survive after all.
Zio took note of the unfettered rage on Ramos’s face and licked his lips. He was thinking that he could take Ramos in a fight. All he had to do was hit him in the chest like he’d done yesterday. He considered it, liking the challenge of a fair fight. Still, with all the guns pointed his way, it was probably better to shoot him and get it over with.
We came abreast of Enzo and stopped. Ramos joined us, never taking his eyes off Zio. Enzo held his hand out for the bag, but Ramos dropped it at his feet. I picked up Zio’s thoughts to shove me into Ramos, and stomped on his foot as hard as I could.
Zio’s hold on my arm loosened. I jerked free, and rushed to Ramos’s side. He motioned me behind him and raised a gun, pressing the barrel against Zio’s forehead. Zio froze. No one moved. Ramos fought his desire to pull the trigger, knowing the cops were watching through the camera on his shirt. Still, he hoped Zio would make a move for his gun, then he could kill him and get away with it.
Zio could see death in Ramos’s eyes and wisely lifted both arms in surrender. He was thinking he could wait for the right moment to shoot Ramos. Once they had the drugs, everything was fair game.
Enzo picked up the bag and backed away. Zio did the same. Ramos kept his gun pointed in Zio’s direction, and we both began to back away as well. He was thinking that I should run to the car because he was pretty sure the bullets would start flying any minute now.
“The hitman’s planning to shoot you first,” I said.
“Good to know,” he answered. “Go.”
I didn’t need to hear that twice and made a mad dash for the car. Flint moved from behind the door, and I caught sight of someone else. My mouth dropped open. It was Hawk. He wore a bullet-proof vest with police emblazoned across the front.
Hearing a shout, I glanced over my shoulder. Ramos had made it to the car and was taking cover behind the driver’s side door. At his car, Enzo threw the bag into the back seat. Milo motioned to Zio, giving him the signal to start shooting at us. Zio hesitated to pull his gun, knowing Ramos had the drop on him if he didn’t find cover first.
Disgusted that Zio wasn’t shooting, Milo pulled his gun and aimed it at Uncle Joey.
“Police! Drop your weapons!” Hawk shouted, bounding out of the car and aiming his gun at Milo. Speaking into his radio, he called for backup, telling them to move in. Sirens sounded in the distance, and the flashing lights marked their progress toward us.
Enzo jumped into the driver seat of his car. Milo squeezed off a shot aimed our way, then ducked into the passenger seat. Enzo peeled out of the parking lot with Milo’s door still opened. He sped toward the exit.
Left behind, Zio ran for the yacht. Ramos took off after him. Hawk spoke into his radio, chasing after Milo’s car, and Flint urged me to get in the limo. Before I could move, Uncle Joey slumped into the passenger seat holding his shoulder. Alarm tightened my stomach, and I rushed to his side. His face was pale and sweaty.
“Uncle Joey?”
He gritted his teeth. “Damn that Milo.” He pulled his hand from his shoulder, finding it red with blood. The cloth from his jacket was torn where the bullet had caught him in the upper arm. “I’ll be fine, but it hurts like hell.”
Wiping his hand on his pants, he turned to Flint and held out his hand. “Give me your gun. I’m going to kill that bastard.”
Raising his brows, Flint handed it over. I gasped with surprise. “What? No. Uncle Joey—don’t.”
But he’d already risen to his feet to look for Milo. As he stepped around the open door, we heard the screeching tires from Milo’s car. Lights from police cars blocking the exit flashed red and blue, and Enzo spun the car in a tight circle to drive back into the lot.
Uncle Joey stepped into the open and stood with his feet br
aced apart, his gun raised to shoot at the oncoming car. My breath caught, and fear tightened my throat. I remembered Milo’s nickname of “Crack-shot” Bilotti.
“No, no, no. Uncle Joey—move,” I shouted. What was he thinking? He was going to get killed right in front of me.
At the last minute, the car swerved to the left, giving Milo a clear shot at Uncle Joey through the passenger window. As they careened past, Milo pointed his gun and fired. Uncle Joey fired his gun at the same time.
Cringing, I let out a yelp. Uncle Joey jerked back, like he’d been hit. But he kept his balance and shot at the retreating car. He even managed to hit one of the back tires. More shots sounded from Hawk’s gun as he fired at the car. Another tire blew, causing the car to swerve. It slammed into a stack of barrels by the warehouse, sending one of the barrels to smash into the front window.
Uncle Joey staggered, and I rushed to his side. “Are you hit?”
He breathed heavily and glanced at his chest. A bullet hole singed the white shirt he wore, but there was no sign of blood. “I’m wearing a vest,” he panted. “I’m okay.”
“Holy hell.” I wanted to smack him. “You scared me to death.”
He barely heard me, focusing his attention on Milo’s car. Enzo jumped out and ran to Milo’s side, pulling the door open. He grabbed Milo’s arm to help him out, but Milo could barely stand. Blood covered his shirt, and he lurched unsteadily to his feet.
With Hawk closing in, Enzo dropped his hold on Milo and took off running for the boat. Milo cursed and took a couple of steps to follow. He didn’t make it far before Hawk shoved him to the ground, knocking the gun from his hand and pulling Milo’s wrists behind his back to cuff him.
By now, several police cars had pulled into the lot. “Where’s Ramos?” I asked.
“At the boat,” Uncle Joey said. “Milo’s man must be onboard.”
Several shots sounded from the dock, and Ramos ducked behind the back of the boat. From the deck, Zio kept shooting at Ramos while he cut the ropes. Finished, he ran to the bridge and started the engine. As the boat began to move forward, Ramos took a running jump. He managed to grab the rail and climbed onto the deck.
Ghostly Serenade Page 26