“KCOREHT.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s ‘The Rock’ backward. Never took the time to learn what numbers they match to, but you type in those letters, and the door will open.”
No hesitation. No alarm bells going off in his brain. Nothing. He said it like he wanted me to know. Daniela’s mouth propped open.
“What’s in the secret room?” I asked. “Where do you keep the drugs?”
“Not drugs, pills. In packages.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant. It didn’t matter. We’d find out soon enough.
“Why is your brother going to Rome tonight?”
“To see family. Why else?”
“To smuggle heroin,” I said.
Benny laughed, walked over to me, twirled a lock of my hair around his finger. “You’re a funny lady. You really think my brother’s stupid enough to run ’em himself?”
“I think he’s smart enough to get a patsy to do it for him. Who’s the patsy—Doctor Dashner?”
Benny grinned. “Funny and smart.”
“Where can I find Dashner?” I asked.
With a finger swishing through the air, he began saying, “1-5-3 Palmer, 1-5-3 Palmer, 1-5-3 Palmer.”
I was starting to think shutting him up would prove the biggest challenge of all.
“I think I have what we need,” I said.
Daniela followed Maddie and me to the door. “You two be careful. You have the pistols I gave you, right?”
I nodded. “I’ll check in as soon as we’ve found something.”
On my way out, I noticed Benny’s eyes hadn’t left mine. Loud enough for him to hear, I said, “I’m heading over to the night club.”
When her bedroom door closed, Benny’s playful voice was crooning again.
“You’re all going to die tonight,” he sang. “You’re all going to die.”
CHAPTER 20
Clouds pooled together across a dreary, gray sky. Thunder roared, shouting its anger, its discontent, for all to see. Everything felt wrong. So wrong.
“We’re not going to Essence Night Club,” I said.
“Why not?” Maddie asked.
“It’s a trap.”
Before Maddie and I trekked through a patch of forest to get to a car Daniela had waiting on the next street over, I texted Daniela, asked if she was okay. She replied back. She was fine. Benny was in her bed, beckoning her to accept his advances. I explained my concerns, instructed her to wait only a few minutes, just long enough for us to get to the car. Then she needed to get Giovanni involved, and get Benny out.
The Romano family was planning something, which meant they knew.
Giovanni needed to be ready.
I felt uneasy about Daniela alone with Benny. As soon as the car was in sight, I sent Giovanni a text: Benny’s in Daniela’s room. He may or may not be drugged. I fear she’s in danger.
There was no time to explain anything else.
I held my palm out to Maddie. “Let me see your phone.”
She handed it over. I took mine and hers, checked them between a cluster of trees.
“What are you doing?” Maddie asked.
“Getting us out of here.”
CHAPTER 21
Dashner did not live at 153 Palmer. I knew this as soon as the words left Benny’s mouth. The address I had led me to a two-story stucco house close to the city. The curtains were drawn, shielding my view. Maddie and I approached the front door. Seeing my hand inside my jacket pocket, gripping my gun, she retrieved hers. I shook my head. The last thing I needed was a novice gunslinger shooting her way inside.
“Put it away,” I whispered.
She frowned. “What’s your plan—knock and hope he answers?”
I twisted the door knob. It wasn’t locked. I stepped inside.
“Stay behind me,” I said.
Five large, zipped suitcases were lined up side by side in a perfect row on the living room floor. Whistling sounded from the hallway, growing louder as it approached. Upon seeing two women in his living room, a man I assumed was Dashner, came to an abrupt halt. The man was older, late 60s. He wore rimless glasses and had a full head of white hair with a trimmed mustache to match. He was slim, well-groomed, and pretty. He looked like he hadn’t disobeyed a law in his life.
“Going somewhere?” I asked.
“Excuse me?”
“I asked if you’re going somewhere.”
“Who are you? Why are you in my house?”
His voice was calm, not the least bit agitated.
“Answer the question,” I said.
“I will not. Leave or I’ll call the police.”
“Are you Edward H. Dashner?”
He nodded. “What do you want?”
I withdrew my gun.
He raised both hands in front of him. “If you’re planning on shooting me, mind telling me who you two are first?”
I smiled. “I’m Kit, this is Kat. Have a seat.”
He sat, crossed one leg over the other. “You shouldn’t be here. You should go.”
I turned to Maddie. “Unzip the bags.”
I expected Dashner to resist. He didn’t. Maddie unzipped one of the bags, pulled out a packet with a familiar label for a name-brand headache medicine.
“My supplies,” Dashner said. “I work with Doctors Assist International.”
“We know who you are, and we know what you do. What we don’t know is why you’re helping Rocco Romano smuggle fentanyl out of the country.” I picked up one of the packets. “It is fentanyl in these bags, right?”
He interlaced his hands on his lap. “I … had no choice.”
“Of course you did. You always have a choice.”
I whipped my head to the side a moment too late. Vincent stepped around a wall in front of me, fired his gun. The bullet ripped into my shoulder and then shot back out again, drilling itself into the wall beside me.
Maddie reached for her gun. Vincent stopped her.
“Pull a gun on me and you die,” Vincent said. “Right here, right now.”
Maddie took a step forward.
“Stay where you are!” Vincent yelled.
“She’s bleeding,” Maddie said. “Let me help her.”
“Stay. Where. You. Are.”
Maddie stayed.
“You don’t just work for Giovanni, do you?” I asked.
“And you’re not just some chick who got caught at the wrong hotel at the wrong time.”
“How long have you been working for Rocco?”
“I don’t work for him. I work for myself.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’ve been loyal to Giovanni’s family for three years.”
“What changed?” I asked.
“Information.”
“You found out about Misty.”
“Found out I was workin’ for a family of traitors. Decided I’d approach Rocco. He paid good money to find out what I know. Ever since, I’ve been doin’ things for him, like escortin’ the doctor here to the airport tonight, makin’ sure nothin’ gets in the way.”
“Why did he choose you?” I asked. “Why not someone else—someone he trusts?”
“They’re … uhh … occupied at the moment.”
Occupied.
Giovanni.
For a split second, Vincent’s attention diverted to something behind me. A second was all I needed. I pulled my gun. Fired. Missed. The pain of my wound getting in the way of a clear shot. I glanced behind me. Saw who Vincent was looking at. Cesare. A million swear words crowded my mind.
Were they both in on it?
A bullet whizzed by me, fired by Maddie’s gun. It plunged into Vincent’s chest. He reeled back.
Cesare leveled his gun, pointing it at me. As I popped off another shot in his direction, he yelled, “Wait!”
Maddie walked toward Vincent, unloading her clip into his helpless body. Cesare braced himself against the wall, glanced down at the blood oozing from his lower ab
domen. He pleaded with me again. “Sloane, please. Wait.”
His tone was different, nothing like the man who kidnapped me the day before.
“You had your gun raised to me. You were going to kill me. Why should I spare you now?”
“It wasn’t aimed at you. It was aimed behind you, at Vincent.” He reached an unsteady hand inside his jacket, pulled out a shiny piece of gold, raised it in front of me. With his fingers curled around the top, I couldn’t read everything it said, but four words stood out like a firefly on a darkened night.
I slapped a hand over my lips, my eyes blurry, questioning myself and my actions. What had I done?
CHAPTER 22
“I’m calling 9-1-1,” I said.
“No,” Cesare said. “Not yet.”
Dashner stood. “I have some medical supplies in the hall closet.”
My hands were sweaty, my heart pumping a series of rapid thuds throughout my chest.
“Sloane.” Maddie squeezed my shoulder. “What do you want him to do?”
“Yeah … yeah … get your kit. Maddie, go with him.”
Maddie and Dashner disappeared into the hallway.
I turned to Cesare. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. You were so … horrible to me.”
He attempted a faint smile. “How do you think I lasted this long?”
I flattened my hand, pressed it down over his. “I’m sorry I shot you.”
“I’ve survived worse.”
“How did you end up here—working for Giovanni?”
“His brother, Carlo, was my friend. We worked a few cases together. As far as I know, I was the only other person who knew who Carlo was—his background—where he came from. I promised to look after his family if anything ever happened to him.”
“Do they know who you are?” I asked.
“Giovanni does. He knew you’d try to escape today. He asked me to follow you.”
“They’re planning something.”
“Who?”
“Rocco’s family. Something big. Giovanni and Daniela, they’re both in danger.”
“Let Giovanni worry about them. We need to make sure Dashner gets on that plane tonight.”
“Why can’t we just turn them into the guys heading the investigation?” I asked.
“And leave the final piece of the puzzle, the biggest piece, unsolved?”
“Can’t they interrogate him, get what they need from Dashner himself?”
“It’s not that easy.”
Maddie and Dashner returned. He went to work on Cesare. Maddie attended to me.
“How bad is it?” I asked the doctor.
“He’ll survive,” Dashner replied, “but he needs to get to the hospital. I can only do so much.”
“No hospital,” Cesare said. “Not yet.”
“But son, you have to—”
Cesare reached up, his hands gripping the front of Dashner’s perfectly ironed, crisp, button-up shirt. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but if you don’t start talking about where these drugs are going and how they’re getting there, I’ll put a bullet in you myself.”
Cesare released Dashner, who removed his glasses, wiped his brow. A genuine sadness covered his face.
“You don’t understand,” Dashner said. “None of you. I’m not who you think I am.”
“You’re a doctor,” I said. “Aren’t you?”
He nodded.
“And you’re helping Rocco?”
He nodded again.
“Tell me what I’m missing—what we’re missing. Right now, I fail to see it.”
“I’m not a bad guy, a bad person. I’m a legitimate doctor. I’m only helping him because I have no choice.”
“Of course you have a choice,” I said. “You always have a choice.”
“Do I? They have my son.”
“Who has your son?”
“Rocco. And if I don’t do what he wants, not only am I dead, my son’s dead too.”
Cesare extended a hand to Dashner. Dashner hesitated at first then stretched out his own hand, and the two shook.
“By shaking hands, we’re making a deal. I know you’re scared. I know you don’t trust anyone. I know Rocco has warned you not to talk to anyone. I’m telling you right here, right now. You can trust me. I’ll do everything in my power to find your son.”
CHAPTER 23
For his part in the family drug creation and exchange, Rocco needed a doctor with access to fentanyl to mix with the heroin coming in from Colombia. Dashner was an excellent choice for several reasons. He had both the means and the transportation to deliver supplies without causing the same kind of red flag a normal passenger would. While Dashner flew to Rome on a small plane with fellow doctors, Rocco flew on a separate plane, ensuring the two were never tied to each other in public. Having someone else transport the drugs kept his hands clean.
Once Dashner arrived in Rome, he offered medical assistance to migrants and those seeking asylum. Without the proper paperwork, many people entering the country were detained for a lengthy period of time while the proper identification was obtained. Sometimes it was obtained, other times it wasn’t, at which point those entering illegally were deported, kicked out of the country.
Among those waiting, certain diseases persisted. Many migrants entered the country already afflicted with a pre-existing condition, such as tuberculosis and chagas. This is where Dashner and his colleagues came in, working as part of a mobile medical team to care for the afflicted.
Only that’s not all he did.
During Dashner’s previous two visits to Rome, he made an additional stop while on one of his breaks. He met up with Rocco in the back room of a hole-in-the-wall café, handed over the fentanyl, which had been packaged and labeled as a variety of various over-the-counter remedies for things like headaches or an upset stomach.
I’d asked Dashner what proof he had that his son was still alive. He said he’d been granted one phone conversation the last time he made a delivery. This time, in addition to payment, Dashner was promised his son would be returned when Dashner came home from his trip. As long as Dashner agreed to continue offering his assistance when needed, no further harm would come to his family. I wasn’t sure I believed it.
CHAPTER 24
It was eleven o’clock when I drove into the short-term parking lot at JFK airport. Dashner’s plane was departing in one hour, Rocco’s thirty minutes after that. I wanted to make damn sure both of them made their flights.
“Rocco always calls me to check in before the plane takes off,” Dashner said, “to make sure I’m holding up my end of the bargain. What am I supposed to say if he asks about Vincent?”
“Tell him the truth.”
He raised a brow. “Are you crazy?”
Most days? Definitely. That was beside the point.
“Not the entire truth. If he does know something and you lie about it, you’ll raise his suspicions even more. Don’t give him a reason not to get on his flight. Your usual exchange must take place tomorrow evening in Rome as planned. Understand?”
“If he knows Vincent is dead, what should I say?” Dashner asked.
“Say a man came to your house, someone you’ve never seen before. Tell him there was a struggle between the man and Vincent, during which time you managed to get to your car and head to the airport. If he asks about the precious cargo you’re carrying, tell him it’s just fine, that it was already in your car before the man arrived.”
“Do you think that will work?”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
With my own boarding pass bound for Salt Lake City’s airport in hand, Maddie and I snaked our way through a security line two rows behind Dashner. This allowed me to keep an eye on him without anyone seeing us together. He was nervous. Too nervous. We didn’t need another screw-up.
As much as I wanted to breathe, to be in the moment for a few, glorious seconds, it wasn’t in my nature to assume I had even one reason to feel this was over yet. The e
nd seemed like the beginning, a beginning I wanted to forget.
I glanced at Maddie. “Let’s call Daniela, check in.”
We found a courtesy phone. Dialed. Daniela didn’t answer. I tried a few more times. Nothing.
“Let’s call Giovanni,” Maddie said.
“Let’s not.”
Maddie grabbed the phone, dialed his number anyway. “Something’s wrong, Sloane. You know it is. She always picks up.”
“We don’t know anything.”
Even though I’d said it, I wasn’t convinced myself.
“Giovanni, this is Maddie. We’re at the airport. We’ve been trying to call Daniela, and she’s not—”
I heard his muffled voice on the other end of the phone. Maddie clutched my arm, squeezed. I snatched the phone from her hand.
“Giovanni, what is it?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
He muttered something so unreal, his words just hung there, like a dark cloud on a rainy day. Giovanni’s house was burning in flames.
CHAPTER 25
“Where’s Daniela?” I asked.
“She left in the ambulance about fifteen minutes ago,” Giovanni replied.
“Is she all right?”
“She will be.”
“And your son?” I asked.
“Marcelo is alive.”
“Your wife?”
There was a long pause. Too long.
“Giovanni, are you there?”
“Valentina was outside, safe, except for a small gash below her left eye. As she watched the fire burn, she became frantic, raving on and on about her grandmother’s jewels. They were locked inside a safe in our room. I tried to ease her mind, reminded her the safe was fireproof, the jewels would be okay. When I noticed Daniela being looked after by one of the medics, I rushed to her side. In my absence, Valentina slipped back inside the house.”
I clasped a hand over my mouth. “What happened?”
“One of the wooden beams from the ceiling dislodged, collapsed on top of her. She was trapped.”
I didn’t need to ask what happened next. She may have made it out, but from his tone, I knew she wasn’t alive. “I’m so sorry, Giovanni.”
Sloane Monroe 5.5-Flirting with Danger Page 6