Page 50 of Angel's Share

“Kids?” Izzy asked.

“All good,” Jamie assured her. “No movement there. You want a glass of wine?”

“Please,” she said, the show on pause as she white-knuckled the edge of the island, her arms spread. “Red.”

He grabbed a bottle off the table and poured a glass at the island, all the while mentally counting the seconds Maryanne remained outside. “We just gonna wait here for her?” he asked Aidan. “Or go out there?”

“Give her fifteen more seconds.”

“She’s not coming back.”

They whipped around toward the new voice, and Jamie’s pulse ratcheted up another notch. Michael Martino stood at the hallway opening, dressed in a black sweater and slacks, hands in his pockets, shoulder leaned against the wall.

At the same time, Matt radioed, “Looks like the party is breaking up.”

Or had never been a real party to start. Jamie peeked out the sliding glass door and pretended to be confused by what he was seeing. “Where’s everyone going, Martino?” he asked, letting their teams know Michael was on-site, likely smuggled in the same way they’d smuggled in their own backup. They’d known it was a possibility.

“Gave ’em the rest of the night off,” Martino said.

“Hired some actors, did you?” Aidan said, dispensing with the cover since it seemed Martino was too.

“This is LA. Plenty of ’em.”

“Garage door is opening,” Matt relayed.

Aidan moved at the same time Jamie did, stepping closer so they formed a wall between Izzy and Martino and so the island was at their backs, not the garage door where Martino’s muscle might enter.

“Sounds like the garage door’s going up,” Aidan said, not letting on that they were miked up. “Where’s Maryanne going? We still want to talk to her.”

“We’ve got a team on her,” Rick said, correctly interpreting the order Aidan was also giving them.

“Is William with her?” Jamie asked.

“Negative,” Rick said. “She’s alone.”

“No,” Martino answered as well. “He’s on a different mission.”

“To go after my kid?” Izzy said, pushing her way through Jamie and Aidan’s wall. “Again? Don’t you think almost ruining his life once was enough?”

As angry as she was, Martino was cool and calm, almost bored. His placid demeanor worried Jamie; he either had more backup nearby or didn’t care which way this face-off went. Not good for them either way.

“They weren’t much older than your son when this one”—he jutted his chin at Aidan—“and your husband locked up their dad. My brother. Sentenced him to death.”

“We wouldn’t have had to lock him up,” Aidan said, “if he hadn’t been fencing goods for the mob.”

“He didn’t deserve to go to jail for that. Orlando Russo did.”

“Is that why you tried to frame him for the cargo thefts against TE?” Jamie asked. “Then for White’s murder?”

“If I could take him down too, worth it.”

Too. Meaning Russo was one—but not the only one—of Martino’s targets.

“So what?” Aidan said. “You’ve got William going after Russo and Maryanne after Angel? Or vice versa?”

“They know what they have to do.”

“Ryan, it’s Matthew,” Jamie overheard Matt through the comm. “Martino has someone coming after Russo. I’m sending you pictures now.”

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