by Misty Evans
Her father shook his head in disbelief. “You always did make everything harder than it has to be.”
She was about to argue when a car turned the corner at the end of the block, headlights dipping over the sleepy street. It lit up the curb in front of Alfie’s house and four men in black trench coats slowly emerged.
“I don’t like the looks of this,” Olivia said.
One of the men stood at the end of the sidewalk, surveying the house as the other three scanned the houses up and down the block, all of them with one hand inside their coats.
Her father sat forward, but kept his face hidden by the dashboard. “Looks like Alfie’s getting a visit from Frankie B.”
Her blood ran cold. “An unexpected visit that looks suspiciously like a hit.”
The man at the end—underboss Frankie Molina—nodded at one of his bodyguards. They walked to the front door. “Crap. Mary Margaret is in there. I have to do something.”
A strong hand landed on her arm. “You cannot go in there,” her father said. “Whatever happens, happens. Alfie brought this on himself.”
Frankie rang the doorbell.
“Mary Margaret is innocent. I can’t let her witness her own father’s murder or end up dead herself. Besides, I need Alfie. I need to know if he’s behind everything that’s happened to Victor, or if Frankie B is really the culprit. If Alfie dies tonight, the truth will die with him, and everything I’ve been working for will go down the drain.”
The front door opened. From this distance, Olivia couldn’t see Alfie’s face, but she was sure it was surprised. A moment later, Frankie B and three of his goons disappeared inside. The fourth stayed on the front porch, a lookout.
Olivia reached for the door handle and jerked her arm out of her dad’s grip. “Call Victor and tell him what’s going down. Remember, you’re not to leave this car or engage in any manner.”
“You can’t go barging in there!”
“I’m not going in the front door.” She pulled out her gun and took the safety off. “I’m sneaking in through the back and getting the girl out first. I’ll be sending her to you, so you better be in this car and ready to protect her, you got it?”
“Olivia—”
She hopped out and closed the door on her father’s arguments. Ducking behind the car, she stealthily slipped into the nearby bushes, praying she would be in time to save the girl and maybe Alfie too.
Victor’s phone rang with an unknown caller. As he and Roman sped through the night on their way to the address Barone had given Olivia, he almost ignored it. It was doubtful any of the Kings where there, especially those involved in the shooting of Olivia’s partner and the other two men, but it was a chance they had to take. There was still a possibility Barone had supplied accurate intel and the Kings had no idea they were coming. If they could catch even one of them, he and Roman could break the man—or woman—and get the evidence they needed on the additional shooters and everyone else involved.
The phone rang again, and Victor’s gut told him to answer. He hit his Bluetooth. “Dupé.”
“Yeah, listen up. This is Olivia’s father and she told me to call and let you know something is going down at Alfonso Barone’s house. You know the address, right? Frankie Molina just showed up and it looks like Barone could be in a lot of trouble.”
Victor exchanged a glance with Roman. “Where is Olivia?”
“My daughter is a gutsy gal, and I want you to promise me that regardless of what she admits to about that stupid Justice Department investigation, you will remember she has sacrificed a lot for relationships in her life.”
Confusion clouded his brain. “Mr. Fiorelli, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I agree, Olivia is an amazing woman.”
“I’m about to help her out, even though she doesn’t want it, and I need you to give her a message if anything happens to me.”
Victor gripped the steering wheel tighter, the siren on the roof of his car suddenly too loud in his ears. “Where are you at? Whatever you’re thinking of doing, do not engage Barone or Molina. Do you understand me, Mr. Fiorelli?”
“She says you’re a good guy, and she deserves someone who will love her no matter what and support her goals, but if I don’t intercede, she’s going to end up with a bullet in her forehead. You tell her that, no matter what, I have always loved her, and I always will. I know I wasn’t who she wanted me to be, but I hope I can prove to her how much being her father means, and what I’m willing to do to make up for all the crap I put her through. Now do me a favor and get to Barone’s house ASAP. Olivia went inside to save the guy’s daughter. I’ll hold off Frankie B as long as possible.”
The line went dead. Instinctively, Victor jammed his foot into the accelerator, taking the speedometer up over 100 mph. “Goddammit. What the hell is she thinking?” He threw a glance at Roman. “Call her.”
Roman was already tapping at his screen. “Already did. She’s not answering.”
“Put out an SOS to everyone in range. Olivia wouldn’t have gone in after the girl if she didn’t think this was a hit. Frankie must have figured out Barone’s about to betray him.” He smacked the steering wheel with his hand. They were on the freeway, headed in the right direction, but still a good twenty minutes from Oceanside. “Call the locals and get an Adam unit over there. Tell them not to go inside, but…”
Roman interrupted him. “We do that, and we end up with a hostage situation. Beat cops can’t handle this. It’s better if we sneak up on them, catch Frankie by surprise, don’t you think?”
He was right. Victor couldn’t think straight, fear cramping his gut. He hit the callback button on the navigation screen, but it went straight to voicemail, an automated female voice telling him the owner of the phone was unavailable. He switched to calling Olivia, as Roman rounded up as many team members as he could, but Victor only got the same response—no one available.
He kept calling anyway, speaking over the ringing phone in the background. “What did Felix mean about a Justice Department investigation?”
Roman shrugged, dialing the next person on his list. “I have no idea. Did he mean in regard to the mafia?”
“That’s the only thing it could be. Because of her background and track record, Liv’s been given loose parameters to investigate the Fifty-seven Gang, and from what she shared, her boss at the marshal service isn’t all that happy about it, but she’s put away enough mid-level mafia guys, that when she wanted to go for the big guns, they agreed.”
“Her father said regardless of what she admits to. Maybe she’s broken some laws in order to take down Gino and the rest.”
He wove in and out of traffic. Come on, Olivia, pick up. “Probably, but I doubt it’s anything significant. Most agents break a few when undercover, and what she’s done by cultivating a relationship with Barone isn’t much different.”
One of Roman’s agents picked up and he began reeling off instructions. Victor hit redial again and prayed they wouldn’t be too late.
16
An empty glass sat on the table next to an Adirondack chair on Alfie’s back porch. The faint scent of cigar smoke hung in the humid air. Olivia peeked through the screen, noting that the hitman had left the glass slider open, as if expecting to come back outside.
He probably had, considering he was expecting her and not Frankie Molina.
The lights inside came from the kitchen and hallway. Men’s voices drifted to her from the front of the house where the living and dining areas were located.
It was after ten PM, and she hoped Mary Margaret was in bed. She eased the screen door back, flinching slightly when it squeaked. Freezing in place, she waited to see if there was any reaction from inside the house, her pulse banging away in her ears.
When nothing happened, and the voices continued from the front room, she finished entering and softly closed the screen behind her.
Fingering her weapon, she kept it up and ready to fire as she tiptoed down the hall to the base of t
he staircase, praying no one came out of the living room, because they were sure to see her if they did. The steps were the next hurdle. She had never been upstairs in Alfie’s house, but she had heard him go up and down them enough to know the old wood popped and creaked whenever weight was put on it. Drawing in a silent breath, she sidled up to the wall the stairs attached to, putting her back to it and keeping her gun facing the front room as she carefully picked up one foot and placed it on the next step. As she continued the slow climb, she listened to the conversation filtering out from the living room.
“You come to my house and throw accusations around?” Alfie.
Frankie’s voice was more nasally, as if he were impersonating the Godfather. “Come on, now, Alfonso. Gino and I are doing a little housecleaning and it has come to our attention that you are being quite industrious behind our backs.”
Yep. This was going to go bad, and it was gonna go bad fast.
Olivia climbed faster.
The two men continued to trade comments and veiled threats, but Frankie must not have any hard evidence about Alfie’s misdeeds or he would’ve simply shot him without waiting for an explanation. That gave her hope. She really wished Alfie wasn’t behind everything, but regardless, she didn’t want Frankie killing him. With Alfie alive, she could still take down the Gang and make sure Mary Margaret continued to have a father around, even if he ended up in prison. If Frankie killed Alfie tonight, she really had no way to prove he was or wasn’t responsible for what had happened to Danny or Victor’s taskforce members.
She gently stepped onto the landing just as she heard Alfie say, “Look, my kid’s upstairs trying to sleep. I don’t want to get into anything tonight. Let’s start over. How about a drink?”
That was the thing about Alfonso, he knew how to schmooze with everyone. He was probably thinking the same thing Olivia was—he’d already be dead if Frankie knew about his side dealings.
“I’ve got the marshal in my pocket like you wanted,” Alfie said, and Olivia froze in place once more, cocking her head to listen.
“I’d like you to take her and the FBI director out at the same time.” Frankie. “Will that be a problem?”
Take us out? Her hand tightened on the butt of the gun.
“None at all.” She heard the clinking of ice in a glass as Alfie poured Frankie a drink. “They’re together more than they’re apart these days. But if I were you, I’d give her a little more time to come to an understanding with me. She and I have a connection, you know. We can use her to help us handle whoever takes over Dupé’s position. It might not even be a bad idea to let him live. Think about it—we control her, and she manipulates him. We get the FBI and all those joint taskforces off our backs.”
Her blood started to boil as fast as her pulse beat. If she didn’t have to save Mary Margaret…
No. She couldn’t take the chance that these two might still end up at each other’s throats. If Frankie had simply wanted to discuss business, he would’ve done it at his office. Not in Alfie’s home.
This still had the makings of a hit, and she needed to save the girl.
The upstairs hallway had four doors, two of which were closed. Olivia crept past the bathroom where a nightlight spilled a soft glow onto the carpet runner and eased toward the closed bedroom door. A large poster of Beyoncé adorned most of the wood and homemade door hanger, decorated with pink and purple marker and glitter, declared the owner behind the door was Mary Margaret.
Waking up the girl without scaring her was going to be the next obstacle. With one last check over her shoulder, Olivia tucked her gun away in her holster. She didn’t dare knock, and only hoped Mary Margaret didn’t scream when she entered.
She expected the girl to be in bed, but as she silently twisted the metal knob and stepped in, she saw a light coming from a desk. She peeked her head around and found Mary Margaret behind the desk staring at her, one knee pulled up to her chest, her foot on the chair. Her cell phone sat on the desktop and she looked like she’d been crying.
Olivia smiled and put a finger to her lips, the universal sign for quiet, as she entered and closed the door behind her.
“Hi,” she whispered. “Do you remember me?”
The girl gazed at her solemnly. “You’re my dad’s friend. He said you were coming over to talk to me.”
“That’s right. Your dad is downstairs, and he has some unexpected company, so he asked me to take you back to my place for tonight.” While Olivia knew Alfie protected Mary Margaret from the truth about who he was and what he did, this was no time to beat around the bush. “We need to move fast and quietly, because the men downstairs with him could be dangerous. Do you understand?”
Her foot came off the chair, her hand closing over the phone. “Is my dad going to be okay?”
The false promise of yes tangled up Olivia’s tongue. She bit her bottom lip, glancing around for a pair of jeans or sweatshirt she could grab for the girl. “We’re going to slip downstairs as quietly as possible and out the back door, kind of like a game. Three houses down in front of the brown ranch there is a red car with my father in it. He’s going to take you to my place and I’ll come back here and help your dad, okay? In case those men decide to get cranky.”
The girl stood and pointed toward the closet door. “I could just go into the safe room and you could help my dad.”
Safe room? Olivia moved to the closet. “What kind of safe room?”
Mary Margaret joined her and opened the closet door. She shoved aside clothes and some boxes, going deeper into the darkness. She tapped on a panel and the thing sprang open, revealing a metal door behind it.
“My dad told me to hide in here if anyone ever came to the house threatening us, and not to come out until he said it was okay.”
The small space held shelves of bottled water, various snacks, and there was a small security TV allowing the person inside to see who was on the other side of the door. There was a digital lock and the room had electricity.
It wasn’t the best panic room she’d ever seen, but it was efficient and the walls were probably bulletproof. Alfie had set up everything for a temporary hiding place to keep his daughter safe.
For a second, Olivia’s mind flashed back to a similar room her father had built in their house. Luckily, her and her mom never had to use it. “Your dad is a smart guy. If there’s anything you want for inside, grab it now and get in there.”
“My phone doesn’t work in there.”
Her eyes were bloodshot, and she had dark circles under them. Olivia reached up and pulled a blanket down from the highest shelf and tossed it into the room. “I hear you’re having troubles with some of the kids in your class.”
The girl sniffed and went to grab a couple books off her nightstand. “Being thirteen is tough. I don’t really like it.”
Olivia patted the girl’s shoulder as she returned to the panic room. “After I help your dad out, maybe we can set a lunch date. Do some shopping, share some girl talk. Would you be up for that?”
Mary Margaret nodded, her countenance lightening slightly. “My dad really likes you. He told me you’re an important person with the police department.”
Close enough. “I’m going to shut you in now. Lock the door, and like your dad said, don’t open it again until you see him, or me, on the other side. If we don’t come to get you, there will be a man named Felix or Victor who will. You can trust them. Got it?”
The girl drew a deep breath and spread the blanket on the floor before hugging her knees and opening one of the books. “Got it.”
Olivia was sneaking back out of the room when she heard it—a sound that sent her heart triple-timing it and her feet running for the stairs.
Boom.
Gunshot. Outside.
Before the echo died, the men flooded the entryway. The doorbell rang.
Oh shit. Who was joining the party now?
She grabbed her gun and pulled up on the landing, every bone in her body frozen in place. Alf
ie was at the door, swinging it open. She could only see the bottom half of his legs. Behind him stood Frankie’s two bodyguards, the underboss out of her view.
“Hello, boys.” Her dad’s voice was jovial but had an underlying menace to it.
No! What is he doing?
Alfie stepped back; through the open doorway, Olivia saw a body lying on the front steps—the other bodyguard.
“Who the fuck are you?” Alfie asked.
Her father pushed inside and smacked Alfie upside the head. “Mind your manners. Who the fuck do you think I am? You’re screwing with my daughter and I’m here to put a stop to it.”
Jesus, Joseph, and Mary. What the hell? Her dad was going to get himself killed and her along with him. Olivia didn’t know whether to rush downstairs and make her presence known in order to stop this crazy train or hang back like a spectator and watch it all play out. It was like seeing a car accident about to happen and not being able to stop it.
Hopefully, her dad had notified Victor, and someone was on the way to back her up. She had two choices—draw her weapon and try to diffuse the situation with force or play a little game on the gangsters and see if she could get everyone out without violence.
Odds were slim the latter would work, but with her dad in the mix, she couldn’t exactly go down with guns blazing and expect a positive outcome.
“Alfie?” She called seductively, walking down the stairs as if she owned the place. “What’s all the racket? I thought you were coming to bed…?”
She paused as all eyes turned toward her, equal expressions of surprise on everyone’s face. Frankie’s two bodyguards already had their weapons out and turned them from Felix to her.
Frankie, hanging back in the living room doorway like the coward he was, sent Alfie a grin. “Didn’t realize you had company, Alfonso. No wonder Felix The Hook is at your front door ready to kill you.”
Her dad blustered, placing his hands on his hips and sticking out his chest. “You ain’t getting in the way of this, are you, Molina?”