“Do you know the carrier where the phone number comes from?”
“No.”
He sighs. “It will take a minute.”
Vito nods as he walks in with Emilio’s second in command.
“Got it. I'm going to send you the link now through text. Click on the link, and you'll be able to track the phone as it moves.”
I let him know he’ll get paid before the day is out and thank him.
“Yeah, Vito.”
“Found someone who saw who set the fire, Boss. He's in a bar getting sloppy drunk, doesn’t want to talk to anyone. Since he’s a witness, I wasn’t sure how you wanted to handle him, rough or extra rough.”
Emilio looks to me. He’s too damn agitated to talk to someone without scaring them. Since Emilio is well known as a man with a hair-trigger temper, I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to handle the witness we just need information from. “I’ll go and get him to talk.”
“Boss, I can handle it if you tell me what you want me to do.”
I send him the link, “What I need right now is for you to get to Paolo. Get Christy and get her back to my place. I want her found, and I want her secure in the guest bedroom across from mine. And I do mean secure. You have to tie her to the bed, then fucking tie her to the bed. But make sure she isn't going anywhere.”
Sighing, he nods. “I'll handle it.
***
Christy
I try to pretend it’s completely normal to slink out of the bushes of the building next door. Clinging to the edge of the sidewalk, I manage not to look back as I make it to the busy street of North Clark and hail a cab. Thank fuck, a cab stops immediately. The cabbie tries to strike up a conversation, but quickly realizes it's not happening.
My eyes flick to the rearview mirror. I can hardly believe how normal I look when inside everything is rioting out of control. Fear wraps around me in a way I have never experienced before. Closing my eyes, I refuse to let my mind go back over it—if I do, I’m completely screwed. Once I’m safe, far, far away from Tony Sabatini, I can take as long as I need to figure it out but not yet.
I have the cabbie let me out a block away from my place, just in case. Once I’m inside, I lock the door with both the heavy bolt and chain and start moving fast. Pulling out the three suitcases I have, I start throwing clothes inside. I grab a duffle bag, filling it with all the bathroom things I can grab, a few things I remember to stick in plastic bags in case they spill.
Once the suitcases are packed, I load them into the backseat of my car. There is one large plastic tub of personal things I care about already packed from the move. Everything else can be replaced, but not the pictures of my brothers and me and the small gifts they gave me over the years. These are the memories I treasured—all I have of the good pieces of my childhood.
Grabbing the cash from the sale of my stuff, I go still. How the hell do I get the money back to Lisa? I’ll figure it out, later. I need to go.
Less than twenty minutes after I got home, I'm leaving again. I'm almost shocked by how easy this is. For some reason, I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Tony behind me.
I'm about to turn onto the interstate when police lights flash behind me. My heart starts pounding. What have I done wrong? I check my speed as I slow down and pull to the side of a quiet neighborhood. Checking the area, it’s getting dark, but no streetlights have kicked on.
It’s fine. It’s a mistake, or I missed a turn signal. Deep breath and be cool. I reach for my information in the glove compartment. Before I have a chance to roll down my window, the cop is bending over and knocks on my window with a flashlight.
I'm surprised at the way he points the flashlight in my face.
“Ma'am, are you Christina Teller?”
Oh god, my stomach drops as my mouth goes dry. I nod. “Yes.”
“I'm going to need you to step out of the car.” He stands as he backs up for me to open the door.
“Why, what's happening?” I’m fighting for time as I look around, there’s no one around.
“Please step out of the car, ma'am.” It’s not a request.
Stomach twisting, I unlock the door and undo my seatbelt. On shaky legs, I get out of the car. Before I even know what's happening, he’s putting handcuffs on me. “What? Why are you—I don't understand.” And then I see him.
A man is standing behind the cop car in front of a black Cadillac Escalade. It's the man from the building that works for Tony.