Chapter 6 - THE DETECTIVE IN THE TRUNK
Nico did not enter through the front door.
He never made it that far.
Security stopped his car near the east gate after it clipped a stone pillar.
Nico emerged with both hands raised.
Blood on his shirt.
Not his.
Rico watched from the security monitor.
Dante stood beside him.
Clara remained upstairs with Leo under guard.
“Search him.”
Dante relayed the order.
No weapon.
No phone.
One car key.
Then someone opened the trunk.
Detective Frank Delaney lay inside.
Alive.
Barely.
His wrists were tied.
His face bruised.
Rico stared.
“Call an ambulance.”
Dante looked at him.
“Police too?”
Rico hesitated only once.
“Yes.”
That answer still felt foreign in his mouth.
Nico was brought inside.
He was thirty.
Good-looking in the hollow way men became after months of fear.
Elena’s younger brother.
Rico had known him since he was nineteen.
Taken him to Yankee games.
Paid his first lawyer.
Helped him start Bellandi Imports.
And spent six months calling him family.
Nico sat in the library.
His hands remained visible.
Rico stood across from him.
Neither spoke first.
Finally Nico said:
“You look terrible.”
Rico almost smiled.
“You burned your sister alive.”
Nico flinched.
“So we’re skipping small talk.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t burn her.”
“Camilla says otherwise?”
“She poured it.”
“You brought the gasoline.”
Nico looked away.
Rico stepped closer.
“You took Leo from the car.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He was a kid.”
“Elena was your sister.”
“I know.”
“Did you?”
Nico’s eyes filled.
“I didn’t know she’d been hit that bad.”
“But you knew she was alive.”
“Yes.”
“And you left her.”
Nico’s voice broke.
“I panicked.”
Rico leaned down.
“Stop saying panic like it’s a separate person who committed your crimes.”
Nico stared at him.
The line landed.
“I was in debt.”
“You sold Elena’s route.”
“Yes.”
“To Romano.”
“Yes.”
“They were supposed to kidnap her.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“One of them fired.”
“Name.”
Nico hesitated.
Rico’s voice sharpened.
“Name.”
“Paolo Greco.”
Rico knew him.
Paolo had died four months earlier.
Killed during a Moretti retaliation.
One more body.
“How many men?”
“Three.”
“Who ordered it?”
“Vittorio Romano.”
Rico’s jaw clenched.
So the Romanos weren’t innocent.
Just not guilty of everything Rico believed.
“And Camilla?”
“She found out.”
“How?”
“She was covering some of my debt.”
Rico stared.
“She paid?”
“Part.”
“Why?”
“She wanted information about you.”
Rico’s face darkened.
“What kind?”
“Whether you and Elena were fighting.”
“We weren’t.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
“Camilla convinced herself Elena was keeping you trapped.”
Rico laughed in disbelief.
Nico continued.
“She said she’d scare Elena.”
“At the kidnapping.”
“Yes.”
“Then someone shot your sister.”
Nico covered his face.
“When I got Leo out, Elena was still moving.”
Rico’s vision went red.
He said nothing.
“She kept saying Leo’s name.”
Rico turned away.
He could not let Nico see what that did to him.
“She saw me.”
Nico’s voice broke.
“She knew.”
“Of course she knew.”
“She said, ‘Nicky, please.’”
Rico shut his eyes.
“Stop.”
Nico cried silently.
“I wanted to help her.”
“But?”
“Camilla said if Elena lived, you would kill all of us.”
Rico turned.
“She was probably right.”
“I know.”
No denial.
No righteous anger.
Just fact.
Nico continued.
“Camilla grabbed the gasoline from one of the Romano cars.”
“And poured it.”
“Yes.”
“Did you stop her?”
“No.”
“Then you helped.”
“Yes.”
Rico stood over him.
Nico looked up.
“You want to kill me.”
“Yes.”
The honesty surprised them both.
“Are you?”
Rico looked toward the hallway.
Leo’s room was upstairs.
“No.”
Nico blinked.
“Why?”
“Because Leo already lost enough people to violence.”
Nico started crying harder.
“You think prison is mercy?”
“No.”
Rico’s eyes became cold.
“I think living with what you did may be worse.”
Nico swallowed.
“What about Delaney?”
Rico stared.
“What did you do to him?”
“He found me three months ago.”
“Where?”
“Jersey.”
“Why didn’t he arrest you?”
“He wanted Camilla.”
“So?”
“I told him I could get evidence.”
Rico’s expression changed.
“You kidnapped him?”
“No.”
“Then why was he tied in your trunk?”
“Because Vittorio’s people found us.”
Rico’s head snapped up.
“What?”
Nico leaned forward.
“The Romanos know the case is reopening.”
Rico stared.
“They grabbed Delaney two weeks ago.”
“You had him.”
“I got him out tonight.”
“How?”
Nico gave a humorless laugh.
“You don’t want details.”
“I do.”
“I killed one man.”
Rico said nothing.
“Stole the car.”
“Why bring him here?”
“Because I knew your house was the only place Romano soldiers wouldn’t rush.”
Rico almost admired the calculation.
Almost.
Then:
“Where is Vittorio?”
Nico shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
“I really don’t.”
“Where would he go?”
“After Camilla’s arrest?”
“Yes.”
Nico looked toward the windows.
“He won’t run.”
“Why?”
“He thinks you’re weak now.”
Rico smiled without warmth.
“Because I called police?”
“Because you stopped retaliating.”
Rico’s smile vanished.
Nico continued.
“He thinks public investigation means you can’t move.”
“What does he want?”
“You.”
That was obvious.
“What else?”
“Leo.”
Rico went still.
Nico stared at him.
“Vittorio believes your son is the only thing that can make you surrender businesses without war.”
The room became cold.
Rico reached for his phone.
“Dante.”
No answer.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Rico’s eyes lifted.
Security intercom.
Dead.
Then every light in the house went out.
Nico whispered:
“Oh, God.”
Emergency lights clicked on.
Red.
Rico moved instantly.
Not toward the gun.
Toward the stairs.
“Leo!”
Upstairs, Clara heard the power die.
Leo woke from his nap screaming.
The guard outside opened the bedroom door.
“Stay inside.”
Then gunfire erupted downstairs.
Clara froze.
Leo screamed harder.
“Mama fire!”
Not again.
She grabbed him.
“No fire.”
Gunshots echoed.
Window glass shattered somewhere below.
Clara looked around.
One door.
Two windows.
Third floor.
Bad options.
The guard shouted into his radio.
Nothing.
Then he was hit.
Not by a bullet.
By someone behind him.
He fell into the doorway.
A man appeared.
Black coat.
Gun.
Clara backed away with Leo.
The man smiled.
“Give me the boy.”
Leo buried his face against her neck.
Clara’s voice shook.
“No.”
The man lifted the weapon.
“You’re the waitress.”
Clara realized.
Romano.
He knew her too.
“Convenient.”
Clara moved toward the bathroom.
He stepped closer.
“Don’t be stupid.”
Then Leo did something strange.
He stopped crying.
Completely.
Clara felt his small hand touch her cheek.
He whispered:
“Down.”
She didn’t understand.
Then she did.
She dropped.
A gunshot exploded behind them.
The Romano soldier jerked backward.
Rico stood in the hallway.
Gun raised.
The man fell.
Leo screamed.
Rico immediately lowered the weapon.
His face changed when he saw his son.
“Leo.”
The boy stared at the dead man.
Then at the gun in his father’s hand.
Rico looked down at it.
Everything he feared.
Right there.
He placed the weapon on the floor.
Kicked it away.
Then knelt.
“Leo.”
The child stayed in Clara’s arms.
Rico didn’t approach.
He didn’t order.
He didn’t reach.
He just said:
“Papa’s here.”
Leo stared.
Then slowly held one hand toward him.
Rico’s eyes filled.
He moved closer.
Leo touched his father’s face.
Then whispered:
“No boom.”
Rico closed his eyes.
“No boom.”
May you like
But downstairs, the attack wasn’t over.
And Vittorio Romano himself had just entered the house.
