“She wasn’t even supposed to be there. Rocco asked her to come over. He said he’d bought another horse, wanted her to see it. She left, but then came back when she realized she’d forgotten her phone. I suppose Rocco intended to spare her life, even though he didn’t.”
“Do they know how the fire was started?”
“The point of origin is still being determined. They believe it started in Daniela’s bedroom.”
Benny.
It had to be.
Acting on an order given by his brother.
If I was right, he hadn’t been drugged at all—he’d faked it the entire time.
“Benny?”
“Dead.”
“If Benny was responsible for setting the fire, how did he end up trapped inside?”
“I never said he died in the fire.”
He was right. He hadn’t.
“Did you … kill him?”
There was a pause and then, “I’ll say this—I’ve always found it fascinating the things a person will say when they think there’s a sliver of a chance you’ll spare their life. He may have gone to the grave tonight, but he went there singing.”
Only the tune was much different than before.
“You killed him.”
“It’s because of Benny that Valentina is dead,” he stated. “That Marcelo will grow up without a mother.”
A part of me understood. A part of me didn’t. Murder was murder, no matter what the justification.
“Where are you now?” Giovanni asked.
The raised hairs on my arm made me reluctant to tell him. I did anyway. “Following Dashner to his gate.”
“Wait there. Do not approach Rocco, and do not talk to the feds.”
CHAPTER 26
A monitor inside the airport displayed the terminal number for Skyway Airlines Flight 12. It was all the way on the opposite side of the airport. I checked the time. Rocco would be boarding in the next ten minutes.
“Maddie, stay here until Giovanni arrives then call me. Tell him I went to the ladies room or something. I’ll be right back.”
“After you check on Rocco, you mean?”
“I have to know,” I said. “Or else all of this will have been for nothing.”
“Go. But be safe. And hurry.”
I hopped on the next train. By the time the doors slid open and I stepped back out again, I’d shielded my hair beneath a beanie cap I’d stashed inside my carry-on bag. Fifty feet from the gate, I spotted Rocco, dressed in a suit and standing with the first-class passengers preparing to board. I backed against a wall, flipped open a discarded magazine I’d found on the train, pretended to read about the various ways I could fight off stubborn belly fat.
Rocco placed his ticket beneath a scanner. The woman at the flight desk nodded. Said something. He smiled. She smiled. He glanced around, a smug look on his face like all his worries were over. For a moment, it seemed as if his eyes rested on me.
Be normal.
Act normal.
Only nothing felt normal about it.
Seconds later, he turned and boarded the plane. I breathed.
I texted Maddie, asked if she’d seen Giovanni yet. Her response: no. I replied back saying I was staying until Flight12 was safely in the air. She wasn’t surprised.
After the first-class passengers had boarded, a second line formed for all those sitting in the cheap seats. A man entered the line. His tall stature, sleek ponytail, and thick glasses made him stand out amongst the others, but I was focused on something else: his well-manicured, stick-like fingers. They gave him away. I walked up, stood next to him like we were getting on the plane together.
“You never meant to meet me,” I said. “You just wanted to make sure I was out of the way.”
“When is your flight?” Giovanni asked.
“Soon,” I replied. “Did you really think you could wear a wig and I wouldn’t notice?”
“The disguise isn’t for you.”
“I know. It’s for Rocco.”
“I’m going to tell you something, and this time you’re going to listen. I only married Valentina because my father was friends with her father. It’s what my father wanted. What they both wanted.”
I crossed my arms in front of me. “I don’t care.”
“Yes, you do.”
“You lied about Valentina, about your daughter, your son.”
“I love Marcelo. But he’s not my son. Not by blood anyway.”
“Whose son is he?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I looked him in the eye. “Don’t get on the plane. The FBI is organizing a team in Rome to track where the drugs are being made once Dashner delivers the fentanyl.”
“I know.” He stared forward. The line in front of him had slimmed down to three passengers. “I have to go.”
“No, you don’t. You should be here with your sister, not chasing some personal vendetta you have for Rocco.”
He lowered his voice, leaned in. “I can’t allow him to live after what he’s done.”
“As soon as the government has what they need, they’ll arrest him. He’ll be convicted, go to prison.”
“He’ll pay with the government’s form of justice. Not mine.” Giovanni handed his boarding pass to the woman, glanced at me. “Go home, Sloane.”
“Fine. I guess this is goodbye then.”
“I suppose it is.”
I stepped to the side, turned. He caught hold of my wrist. “Are you happy—in your life?”
“I’m … working on it. You know me. Constant work in progress.”
“And the lawman. He makes you happy?”
My thoughts turned to Cade. I smiled. “He does.”
The overhead speakers announced the final boarding for Skyway Airlines Flight 12 to Rome.
Giovanni stuck out a hand. I suppose he felt after all I’d been through, it was the only thing I’d accept. But we were past all that now. I was past it. I wrapped my arms around him, watched the ticket lady mouth something to Giovanni about the gate getting ready to close. He needed to board. Time had dwindled from the hourglass. Now there was nothing left.
CHAPTER 27
Flight 12 bobbed up and down the runway, preparing for takeoff. Three minutes later, tiny lights painted dotted lines across a charcoal sky.
Giovanni was gone.
I headed to the terminal to find Maddie. Halfway back a voice said, “You Sloane Monroe?”
A hand clamped down on my arm. I pulled back, turned to the man standing beside me. He wore a blue ball cap, khaki slacks, and expensive-looking tennis shoes with laces that reminded me of neon pieces of licorice.
“Don’t touch me,” I said.
He seemed amused but removed his hand nonetheless. “We need to talk.”
“Who are you?”
He lifted the bottom of his cotton, V-neck shirt just enough for me to see the badge on his trousers, hanging there like it was desperate to get away.
“Where’s your partner?” I asked.
He pointed. I turned. Saw a second guy talking to Maddie.
“Which one are you?” I asked.
“Lovell.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket, read something. “We just received confirmation Mr. Romano made it onto Flight 12.”
“I know. I watched him board.”
“I have some questions.”
Inside I festered, engaging myself in an internal moral debate. Reveal Giovanni was also on the plane, or keep quiet? It was plausible Agent Lovell already knew. But what if he didn’t?
“I’m sure you’ve heard about the fire at Luciana house,” I said.
He nodded. “I haven’t spoken to Daniela by phone, but she did text me. She and her brother are at the hospital, along with several others.”
Only Giovanni wasn’t at the hospital.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes. Why?”
“You seem a little on edge.”
“Can you blame me?”
<
br /> I answered Lovell’s questions, omitting the part about Giovanni being on the plane with Rocco. My inner quarrel within had been quelled, and for once in my life, I did something out of the ordinary. I passed the baton and walked away.
THE END
AFTERWORD
Although this was a novella and not a full-length novel, a generous amount of time and effort went into researching several of the things I write about in this book, such as the doctors who volunteer to give medical care abroad, and the true and very real drug nicknamed “Killer Heroin.” At the time of this writing, the United States death toll for overdoses as a result of taking the drug had surpassed eighty victims, and that’s just for this year alone. Not only is fentanyl being mixed with heroin, pure fentanyl is also being sold as heroin itself. It seems for many heroin users, taking heroin alone isn’t as exciting as the rush one gets from blending the two drugs together, thus making the reward much more enticing than the risk. If you believe you know someone struggling with addiction, Recovery.org is one of the many places you can seek help.
One other side note. It’s safe to say a rather healthy interest in the mafia still exists in the world today. Although not facing the same level of public scrutiny, it would be fallacious to assume they’ve folded. Even today. If you ever find yourself in Vegas, I highly recommend touring the Mob Museum, where you can learn about the mafia, both past and present.
***
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About Cheryl Bradshaw
Cheryl Bradshaw is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She currently has two series: Sloane Monroe mystery/thriller series and the Addison Lockhart paranormal suspense series. Stranger in Town (Sloane Monroe series #4) was a 2013 Shamus Award finalist for Best PI Novel of the Year, and I Have a Secret (Sloane Monroe series #3) was a 2013 eFestival of Words winner for best thriller novel. To learn more:
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Books by Cheryl Bradshaw
Sloane Monroe Series
Black Diamond Death
Murder in Mind
I Have a Secret
Stranger in Town
Bed of Bones
Hush Now Baby
Addison Lockhart Series
Grayson Manor Haunting
Rosecliff Manor Haunting
Till Death do us Part Short Story Series
Whispers of Murder
Echoes of Murder
Boxed Sets
Sloane Monroe Series (Books 1-3)
Sloane Monroe Series (Books 4-5)
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
AFTERWORD
About Cheryl Bradshaw
Books by Cheryl Bradshaw
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
AFTERWORD
About Cheryl Bradshaw
Books by Cheryl Bradshaw
Sloane Monroe 5.5-Flirting with Danger Page 7