Page 88 of Sinful Secrets

“Why would Rossi do this when we agreed to work together to stop the gang?”

Rhett shakes his head. “I don’t know, man. They wouldn’t be the first family to go back on their word. Maybe we will get lucky and find the truck and go from there.”

“Given our track record, that would be too much of a coincidence. If we find the truck, it’s because they want us to find it.”

Our conversation is interrupted by the first officer, who started barking orders. “You are all cleared to leave, but keep your phones charged and nearby in case we have some more questions.”

I wave goodbye to Rhett and make my way over to Savannah and the officer. He isn’t speaking loud, but as I get closer, I’m able to overhear the end of their conversation.

“Please, just let me know if you find anything. No matter how tiny the detail, it may be the bread crumb we need.”

I interrupt. “What do you expect her to find? Are you the one asking her to spy on the team? On Arturo Marino?”

He glances around nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

My gaze moves down to his nametag.

Yep. He’s the same guy.

“I found your business card with the name and number of an FBI agent on the back at her dorm. Do you realize you can be fired for bribery and harassment?”

Savannah grabs my hand. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but please shut up and just drop this.”

The officer stands up taller and squares his shoulder, egging me on. “I have never harassed her.”

I snort. “I have it on good authority that she said no to your bribes, and you still kept asking. Hell, you are still asking.”

“I was asking her about the truck and the men in the truck since she was out here when it happened.”

What about the tiny detail and it being the bread crumb they need?

“I don’t believe you.”

He shrugs. “Your prerogative.”

I glance around the parking lot. Every set of eyes is on me, like they are waiting to see how I handle the situation. Normally, I’m not the instigator, but right now, all I want to do is deck the man.

Turning to Savannah, I say, “Come on. You need something to eat.”

The cop gives me one last glance before turning around and leaving.

Savannah glances at Lorenzo’s covered body. “I don’t think I can eat anything right now.”

“Give it some time. Your stomach will settle the further we are from here. I’ll get you some ginger ale to sip on.”

“Thank you.” She says as I lead her back to my car.

Being in the mafia life, these sights become all too familiar. The injuries stay the same, but the people change.

Sometimes, we are the ones responsible and other times, we are on the receiving end.

Like tonight.

I help her get settled in the passenger seat before closing the door and jogging around to the driver’s side.

I blast the air conditioner, hoping the cool air helps Savannah.

When Lorenzo’s body is moved and the police are on their way, I turn toward Savannah.

---