Page 58 of Mafia Target

“My notes on the bombing. Feel free to take a look.”

After wiping his hands off on a towel, he pulled the papers toward him. He started with the police report. I rolled the pasta dough into a thin sheet as I watched him read. He sat very still, absorbed in his task. Occasionally, he’d flip a page. At one point I set a glass of wine in front of him, but he didn’t touch it.

Then he moved on to the photographs I received from my police contact in Bruges. Alessio studied those for a long time, pulling them closer to see the detail. “These other cars, you’ve had their plates checked, no?”

“Yes, of course.”

“And the CCTV footage surrounding the club?”

“Nothing.”

“Recent sales of large quantities of TNT?”

“None.”

“Hmm.” He began reading the notes I made, little things I’d learned or investigated. “What does this mean, ‘ED location?’”

“Enzo D’Agostino. This was before we knew where he was.”

Alessio grew still. “What do you mean?”

“For four years he hid out on a boat in the middle of the ocean. My father had been searching for him, but no one suspected the water.”

“But you know where he is now?”

I frowned at Alessio, unsure why he was so concerned about D’Agostino. “Certo. He’s dating Frankie’s sister. They’re living together in Naples.”

Alessio barely reacted, but I knew him well enough by now to see the surprise in his features. “Enzo D’Agostino is dating your stepmother’s sister?”

“Crazy, no? But the last time I spoke with Frankie, yes. Apparently Gia and Enzo are madly in love.”

“When did this happen?”

“While I was in Santorini. The story is a wild one. It involves a cage and—”

“Scusa.” Alessio stood and pulled his phone from his pocket. “I have to make a call.”

He started toward the back door. Just before he reached it we heard several bottles crash together. Alessio snapped, “Get down.”

The concern in his voice had me immediately kneeling. He did the same, eyes closed while listening.

After a few seconds, I whispered, “What was—”

He held up his hand to quiet me. There it was again, the faint tinkling of glass on glass. “Minchia!” he hissed to himself. To me, he said, “Those are the traps I set around the perimeter. Someone is out there in the woods.”

Traps? I hadn’t even known.

But who would be out there? It didn’t make any sense.

I knew better than to argue. From his military duty, Alessio had more experience with this than I did. If he believed someone was on the property, I trusted him.

Alessio was suddenly in front of me, his expression solemn. “Listen very carefully. As quick as you can, get every gun and bullet you can find. Put on your boots. We can’t sit here and wait for them. We need to go out and attack them first.”

“Okay.”

I kept low to the ground and went to the door for my boots. After tying them on, I began collecting all the old guns and the bullets in the house. I could hear Alessio assembling his rifle, which he did in seconds. Then he was helping me load the guns.

“They’re coming over the same ridge where I waited for you,” he said softly. “I want you to go out to the sheep enclosure and stay there.”

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