Mr. and Mrs. Rossi

by Carolyn Hector

  Guidance counselor my ass. Harley put two and two together the minute she overheard TJ on the phone. Judges weren’t up early. Cops could strike deals with inmates to turn state’s evidence or even turn them into CI’s, but Hannah wasn’t a confidential informant, she was bait. Javier bait.

  “And when she and I became involved,” Bobby was still saying, “Leonardo would not give us his blessing. In his eyes, I betrayed him and his mother. I wanted to prove to him he came first. And I never should have let things go far. That boy should have never made demands. I was the parent.”

  Her heart slammed against her sore ribs. She’d heard this story. “This woman, you loved her?”

  “I did,” Bobby gave a short nod. His sadness reminded her of Dante’s. Both men loved Allegra and obviously missed her very much, “But I, at the time, I needed to prove to my son I loved him more than anything, so I let everything else go.”

  In a cryptic way, Harley understood. She had to give up Hannah, because she loved her. “Sometimes parents make mistakes, too. No one has a wrong or right way.”

  “This is true,” Bobby sighed, “but my son has taken things too far and I’ve been covering for him too long now. Your niece, you say?”

  “Hannah,” Harley provided.

  “She is with Leonardo.”

  Harley bit the corner of her lip, “I can say I am ninety-five percent sure she is.”

  “Those aren’t good odds,” Bobby said, his smile so even keel it sent a shiver down her spine. “You know if you’re wrong I’m going to have to kill you.”

  Harley folded her hands in her lap and nodded. “I am willing to take that risk as long as you promise to let Hannah go.”

  “You love your niece.”

  A lump formed in Harley’s throat and spoke from the bottom of her heart, “With my life.”

  Bobby patted her kneecap. “Let’s hope we don’t come down to that.”

  ****

  “Houston, we have a problem,” Elliott’s voice crackled over the mic plugged into Dante’s ear.

  Motionlessly, Dante cut his eyes to Roman and then to TJ, Jerraud and Kevin. Tito pulled his SUV into the shipyard and parked in a spot designated for one of the offices down there and stepped out to greet Christopher Alfaro with a handshake. They disappeared into a small office with the shades lowered. Elliott turned off the radio in a van with his satellite images of the square footage of the Gustavo Marina while Cole tried calling in favors with the Coast Guard. The team was together again, yet Dante still felt incomplete. He twisted the ring on his finger and Harley’s face came to mind, and he automatically wanted to kick himself for leaving her behind.

  To make matters worse, Dante took Harley’s phone from her. Even if he wanted to call and check on her, he couldn’t. According to TJ, she’d left the hotel suite barefoot and weaponless. It still did not make her completely helpless, but Dante still kicked himself for allowing Elliott to put a tracker on her, not that she’d let them. Her stubbornness was going to be the death of him.

  Roman’s cousin, Jose, met the team at the fountain, not far from the docks and was talking with Javier weighing out the options. If Javier’s tip came through for them, Jose planned on talking to his friends in wit-sec. Harley was going to serve his ass on a platter, but since she decided to go MIA on them, he had no other choice. If they sent Leonardo to jail, he would still have Leonardo’s henchmen after Javier. If Leonardo’s men didn’t do it, Bobby Marchette would clean up all loose ends. Dante expected to hear a problem concerning the kid.

  “What is it?” Roman pressed his finger against his ear as a truck moved a crate fifty feet in the air.

  “We’ve got another car approaching,” Elliott’s whistle pierced through the speakers. “A limousine.”

  The black binoculars absorbed the afternoon heat and warmed the skin just beneath his eyes as Dante peered through to get a look. “I’ll bet my left nut it’s Bobby.”

  “Keep your left nut,” Cole said over the radio.

  “Yeah, you may need it to start a family of your own,” joked Jerraud, “Come on and join the ranks of fatherhood.”

  “Babies and this career don’t mix,” Dante said too quickly, remembering Harley’s blanched face at Alfaro’s café. No wonder the idea did not appeal to her, at least now he understood. He got adoptions. He commended those who went through. TJ went through it. Harley left him with the feeling she wanted.

  “Hey now,” Jerraud drawled. “You forget who you’re talking to.”

  In a way, Dante had. Jerraud was the father of four little girls. Hard to believe a man of his stature was such a push over when it came to his daughters. Jerraud’s family thought he was a pilot for a private company. Dante guessed in a way he was—STB. He’d extracted Dante’s ass out of some precarious situations. Divorced from the girls’ mother, Jerraud still visited with his girls in between missions. Dante didn’t want that life for his kid.

  “Sorry,” Dante quickly said, “I’m not knocking it, just not sure Harley wants it.”

  A low cackle and a lot of finger pointing—well more like whips being cracked in the air—went on between Roman, Jerraud and TJ, insinuating Dante was whipped. He flipped them the finger and went back to his binoculars.

  Dirt stirred along the sand-covered road at the docks. Beyond the docks a ship sounded off, begging for passage at the causeway. STB put in a call to keep the bridge down, blocking all imports and exports for an hour. No one wanted to risk a trade happening this afternoon.

  Soft yellow and green sand grass blew in the wind exposing their cover. The men crouched further at the top of the hill into the sand. Dante would be washing it out of places for days. But it was part of the job. TJ turned his head to the side to view through the scope of his sniper rifle. “I see our problem is slowing down.”

  The sand dust circled around the hood and tires of the car. Several small offices lined the entrance of the docks. A lot of businesses side stepped delivery into town by picking up their own shipments rather than pay the extra fee for dockworkers to deliver. Majority of the businesses were closed for lunch. Coincidence? Dante highly doubted it. The limousine stopped in front of the only door with the red open sign flashing. Leonardo Marchette was the first to step out of the office followed by Christopher Alfaro. The STB crew exchanged confused looks. The two main players were already there; three all together counting the jail van. Somewhere in this parking lot of hundreds of cargo crates were the girls Moses Baez, the guidance counselor, thought he could sell. Well, Dante had another plan for him. It was time to shut him down.

  “Damn,” the guys next to him breathed.

  Dante followed their line of vision just in time to see Bobby Marchette step out of the car and turn to his left to help out his passenger, Dante’s wife. The ponytail swept to the side revealed the blood stains over her shoulder. Snorting like a bull, sand blew before his face and before Leonardo fully raised his weapon, Dante was already up, on his feet and barreling down the dune.

  Chapter 16

  Harley expected this reaction from Leonardo, it’s why she stepped out of the limousine with the gun she borrowed blazing. She steadied her aim, resting her forearms on the opened door. A breeze from the water cooled her neck and acknowledged the sweaty situation she’d gotten into. A rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins. After being inside the dark limousine the bright skies blinded her, still she kept her gun pointed in the direction of the hysterical fit.

  “I killed you!” Leonardo yelled.

  “You sure?” Harley asked sarcastically.

  “What is going on, Harley?” asked Alfaro.

  Her eyes adjusted to the light and she watched Alfaro step closer to the door-frame. He hadn’t changed his clothes. The gray material of the suit hung wrinkled off his body. The rancid bile gurgled in the back of her throat of being touched by him. She aimed her gun at him, stopping him before he took a step forward. “I bet you’re having a raging hard-on right about now with me holding this gun to
your head.”

  Alfaro’s brown eyes shifted to the ground. Surprise? Regret? Relieved? Either way, she didn’t recall seeing his face peering out the window as she fell. “I thought you were dead. I told you he’s crazy.”

  “Jesus, Leonardo,” Bobby said clutching his temples. “What has gotten into you?”

  Leonardo lowered his gun. A choked out laugh of disbelief escaped his throat. “You told on me? To my father? Who does that?”

  “Someone about to stop you from any business deals you have going on today,” Harley resisted the urge to poke her tongue at the lunatic. Some limits she did not want to cross and without backup, she treaded cautiously. “Where is my niece?”

  “What niece?” Leonardo smarted back. After meeting Bobby, Leonardo’s handsomeness wore off. Nothing like his father, who kindly stood beside her but out of the protection of the car door.

  “The niece you thought you could sell.”

  “Tell me this woman is telling lies, Leonardo,” Bobby ordered. “Tell me you did not try to kill a government agent.”

  In a swift move, Alfaro side-stepped and dipped into the office. Cursing under her breath, Harley cut her eyes behind her and realized Bobby held his hands up; did he think his son would shoot him? The rubber seal of the door dug into her elbows. She kept her forearms straight, not letting Leonardo get a slip on her.

  “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

  “Open your cargo,” Harley ordered.

  “What cargo? We’re not doing anything but just catching up on old times.”

  The cat and mouse game could go on forever. “Didn’t you catch up on old times a few days ago when you two had dinner together? Christopher,” Harley’s voice rose, “want to help me out here? You did mention having some buyer’s remorse after getting into bed with him.”

  “You’re gay?” asked Bobby.

  “I’m not gay,” Leonardo said.

  “He’s not gay,” said Harley, “but he is a murderer. Tell him, Leonardo. Tell your father what you did to your nanny.”

  “You need to stay out of my business, Mrs. Rossi.”

  “Rossi?” an astonished Bobby asked. “Allegra Rossi?”

  “Oh come on pops, Rossi? You’re well aware Rossi is the equivalent of Smith.”

  Harley rolled her neck to either side to crack her bones, “Or you could just call me Special Agent Harley Tomasello, Special Tasks Bureau for Domestic Homeland Security.” The only thing missing of her badass name was her badass badge, which she did not have thanks to Dante. Being called Mrs. Rossi only added fuel to her burning anger.

  Leonardo’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “Our mutual friend annoys you too.”

  “Not as much as you,” Harley gripped her weapon tighter, “now where is she?”

  The door Alfaro slipped into kicked open with a bang. Leonardo’s wrist shook and let off a shot into the office wall. Bobby hunched, ducking his shoulders for cover from shrapnel.

  “You being an agent means one thing,” Alfaro yelled from behind his cover, which was Agent Tito, “someone has been lying to me.”

  Tito’s body awkwardly bent backwards to accommodate Alfaro’s height. The sharp blade at Tito’s throat pierced the skin. A trickle of blood leaked and drizzled down his neck. Harley wasn’t so sure she could be as calm with a knife at her throat, but Tito managed to handle himself. “Let’s all sit down and talk about things,” Tito gritted calmly between his teeth, “like rational people.”

  “You’ve been lying to me!” The hand holding Tito down shook his frame. “Melo was right. You’re a cop.”

  “I’m not a cop.”

  Far be it for her to out Tito’s position, so Harley spoke the truth. “I’ve never seen this man before the day in your café. Can we get back to business? I’m here for the girl.”

  “Hold on,” said Leonardo. “This is Dante’s wife. Your friend is working with Dante. And the two of them here … yo I’m out.”

  The revelation didn’t help matters. Harley pleaded her eyes with Bobby Marchette.

  Bobby gave a sigh of irritation. “Where is the girl, Leonardo?”

  “Pops, I’m serious, I don’t know what this freak is talking about.”

  “The van,” Harley inclined her head, “brought passengers from the sheriff’s office. One call and the whole police department will be here. All I want is one girl.” Of course, it was all total bullshit. She already had it in her head to drive the van back to the jail with all the girls the guidance counselor took.

  “Lady, if I had the girls, which I don’t, it would be wrong because trafficking humans is illegal. But let’s say I did have them, why would I tell you a damn thing?”

  It took all her self-control not to go ahead and shoot him. “Alfaro, do you want to go down with this piece of dirt?”

  “Like he said,” Alfaro pushed his knife further on Tito’s neck, “what girls?”

  “They’re switch-…” Tito’s words slurred together.

  The blade slit against the stubble of Tito’s neck. More crimson liquid oozed. Without thinking, she shot Alfaro’s hand. Alfaro went down with Tito on top of him. Chaos and a hail of bullets happened in a matter of seconds. Trying to keep from getting shot, Harley ducked behind the door and kept shooting. Fireworks sounded off from the office. The windows shattered and holes the size of golf balls tore up the limousine. Harley took one last aim at Leonardo but Bobby pushed her hand upward. It took her two hands trying to reach up to retrieve her weapon when she felt a cold barrel against her bruised ribcage. She winced looking down and realized Bobby pulled a gun on her.

  “Forgive me but he’s still my son.”

  The coil of the trigger pulled back and her molar teeth clenched waiting for the bullet to explode with burning sensations she’d known to accept as a bullet wound. It never came. A yoke pulled at her midsection and her legs went out from under her. So this was her death. No Hannah. No Dante. She’d die failing to save Hannah. She was going to die and never be able to explain to Dante about Hannah. Each vibration of gunshot her mind flashed the short moments she shared with Dante, meeting at the bar, the reckless I-Do, the honeymoon celebration. They’d been cheated time.

  Eyes still closed, she fell into the buttery soft seats of the limousine. Glass and metal rained all around her. Pieces of cotton and leather exploded with each shot of the powerful bullets. She’d never seen anything like it.

  “Keep your head low,” Dante’s voice ordered through a fog.

  When she opened her eyes she found herself in the backseat of the limousine, still intact, well at least, what most would consider intact. White smoke filled the front of the office. The bullets drifted off like the last sporadic kernels in a bag of popcorn determined to be popped.

  “Tito,” Harley breathed. The smoke choked the back of her throat, her eyes watered. “Check his throat, Alfaro sliced his neck.”

  Dante let out an expletive and left her side for a moment. Outside of the limo his voice vibrated in her ears while he screamed orders into a clear earpiece. Harley wedged herself into a sitting position. Half the limo disappeared into twisted metal. Her ears rang from the bullets. From her peripheral vision she watched a sea of men in black swat gear swarm the outside of the office. The men made up Dante’s team. She knew she should have felt relieved for the cavalry to arrive but she still hadn’t found Hannah. As she attempted to step down, hot bullets singed the bottoms of her feet. She kicked away a few but the debris of glass, wood, and metal sank in and punctured her skin.

  With the help of the half door she stood. Her eyes flanked to Tito struggling to sit up with Dante’s help. Dante’s blood-stained hands raked through his hair, eyes closed in frustration or prayer. Her heart ached. Tito’s cough became music to her ears. A breath escaped her throat when she saw his feet shift to accommodate him sitting upwards. Some of the other men braced his back, lifting him off Alfaro’s lifeless body. Harley’s eyes scanned the lot. The Marchette men disappeared. No one was left who kn
ew where the girls were. Heartache attacked her. Dead men sprawled from the windows, in the doorways, and around the building, none of them a part of the bureau.

  Panic struck her. The sound of her feet shuffling through the glass caught Dante’s attention. He dipped his head toward Tito’s ear and whispered something before he took off running toward Harley. Not being able to move, Harley inhaled in defense, hoping her puffed out chest forced him to back off. He didn’t.

  Dante’s manly hands snaked around her neck, his thumbs caressed against her throat while his hands dug into the back of her hair to tilt her head back. Harley opened her mouth to protest but Dante stopped her from saying a word with his mouth. His lips captured hers, tongue snaked in quickly, and he devoured her mouth. A sob choked in her throat. Eyes filled with concern, Dante pulled away. The palm of his hand pressed against her shoulder then his fingers peeled back the T-shirt.

  “This isn’t my blood. What are you doing here?” she croaked.

  Dante gave her his famous cocky smile, his thumb caressed the corner of her eye, “Until death do us part, remember?”

  “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” she whispered. She hated herself for the verge of tears threatening to spill. “My life flashed before my eyes and I never got to explain.” Another pang clutched her heart, “Hannah!”

  “We’re searching. Elliott and Cole are searching the crates. Javier led us to them.”

  “Javier? You found him?”

  “Yes, he and Gaston overheard part of these idiots’ plans. He’s up there,” Dante pointed in the direction of the road leading into town, “talking to the Marshals.”

  “Marshals? For what?” The only reason a person talked to the Marshals was to get in the wit-sec program.”

  Dante anticipated her panic and calmly rested his hands on her shoulders. “He needs protection from Leonardo more than ever now. If his tip for locating the girls comes through, he’s going to be granted protection. You understand why?”