After two minutes of looking at my cellphone’s maps and I’ve established that’s an abandoned campsite on the far side of the mountain. Track leading up to it from the side of a rural gas station.
It’s a two-hour trip, closer to one hour at the speed I drive. I could have the box by the end of the day. Be gone from here, never to come back.
I can’t come back. I only have to think of her and all kinds of feelings I don’t want start bubbling up inside me.
I’ve got to get the necklace back yet. How am I supposed to do that without seeing her again?
I’ll worry about it when I’ve got the box. Until then, I’ll simply put it out of my mind.
Which should be easy but as I close the file, I find myself imagining the best way of getting the necklace off her. Commanding her to remove every item of clothing, watching from the comfort of an armchair as she strips for me until she’s only wearing the necklace. The jewels in it will be nothing compared to the treasures revealed when she’s stripped bare for my gaze.
I’ll tell her to get on all fours, facing away from me, and spank her ass red for trying to deny how much she wants me. Push a plug into her ass, watch her grip it tight while she crawls around the room. Then when she can’t take any more of the humiliation and tries to stand, that’s when I’ll take her, claim her, ravage her.
My cellphone rings and I almost jump. I realize I’ve been staring into space for a good five minutes, maybe more. Anyone could have gotten close in that time and I wouldn’t have noticed. I’d already checked out.
Got distracted.
That’s the epitaph of so many people I’ve worked with over the years. I never thought it could happen to me. Yet, here I am, dreaming of fucking her when I’m supposed to be working.
It’s not like it’s even a difficult job. I’ve done far tougher in my time. Should be a piece of cake yet I’m making it harder than it has to be.
I put the phone to my ear. Umberto’s voice comes down the line before I’ve even spoken. “You got it yet?” he asks.
“I’ve looked in the file. Chippewa Falls, right?”
“Time to put a name to a place, right?”
I grunt a response.
“I’ve had time to think,” he continues, an ominous note to his voice that I don’t like. “After what’s happened with Dwayne, I’m not reassured that your head is in the game like it should be.”
“I’ll get the job done, Don Felici.”
“Your sister and niece, you love them?”
I straighten up, my heart starting to race. I manage to keep my voice calm. “They aren’t a part of this,” I say once I’ve got a hold of myself.
“Up until now. Thanks to your efforts over the years, both Imelda and sweet little Sarah have been entitled to the privileges and protections that come from the famiglia. Those privileges are rescinded if you don’t return with the box still sealed. It better be sealed when you get here, Enzo. Else you know what I’m talking about, don’t you? I’ll be protecting them personally for you for a while. Keeping a close eye on them. See you soon, I hope, Enzo, for both their sakes.”
He hangs up the phone. I scream out loud, punching the steering wheel over and over again.
I know what personal protection means. It means he’s threatening to kill my sister and my niece. They’re not part of my world. They don’t deserve to be involved in any of this. The Don isn’t even supposed to know where they live. Is he bluffing? How sure can I be that he’s bluffing?
My hand throbs when I get out of the car to look up at the sky.
He’s gone too far this time.
The Don’s always been professional before now. But this? Getting personal like this? With me? Does he think I’ll let this go?
He’s just told me that if I don’t get the job done, he’ll kill my sister and my niece. Sarah’s nine years old, for crying out loud. She’s never hurt a soul in her life. All Imelda ever wanted was for me to leave this life, and get out while I still can.
I get a hold of myself, my rage subsiding into thoughtful calculation. If he’s threatening me like this, it means the job is bigger than he first made out. He’s done a deal with Blizzard but what kind of deal?
His insurance that I get this right is Imelda and Sarah. I fail and they die. I succeed and Chloe probably dies. What kind of choice is that for a man to have to make?
I get a vision of me wrapping my hands around the Don’s neck, squeezing the life out of him, taking his position from him and giving it to someone more worthy, becoming a kingmaker. Maybe keeping it for myself.
He’s been getting worse, more paranoid as he gets older. There’s only one way out when a man gets that way. Someone’s got to do something about it.