Page 48 of Guarding her Gangster Girl

I sigh, wondering how blind he can possibly be. “The Family cannot survive in its current form, Frank. Even if Larry and Vince kiss and make up—which they won’t—the cracks can’t bewallpapered over. We’re headed for an earthquake. And when it’s over, the landscape will be completely different.”

He just blinks at me. “Breezy, are you really serious about letting Vince go? Because the first thing he does, he’s gonna go after Larry, and that?—”

“He won’t go after Larry. Not if he knows what’s good for him.” I put a hand on Frank’s arm. “Vince didn’t kill Terry. He was in Phoenix that night, and there’s no way a hitman could have gotten into those back rooms without security noticing.” In fact, the only thing that Vince seems to be guilty of is an inadvisable public proposal and vague threat about me keeping my mouth shut. I almost chuckle, but swallow it down.

“I mean, when you say it all reasonable like that, it sounds okay,” Frank sighs. “Maybe Terry was onto something when he…” He trails off, and I see a look on his face that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

Guilt.

“When he what?” I ask sharply.

“When he—when he married you.”

I could swear that’s not what he was going to say originally, but I’ve got more important things to do than wheedle information out of Frank Colombo. So after I make him promise he’ll release Vince, I send a quick text to Holden, and then I call Nik. She sounds like she’s outside, maybe walking along the Strip. “Where are you?”

“Close by. You done?”

“Yes. I’m heading to security. I asked Holden to meet me in there to go over the footage again.”

She gives a huff that could be from relief. “Security room? Good idea. You need to eat?”

After the smell in that room where they were keeping Vince, I don’t think I’ll ever eat again. “Not hungry,” I say. “And we still need to talk to Sophie Johnson, too.”

“You don’t go near her without me. Stay in security and I’ll be there in ten.”

I hang up and keep walking, hoping like hell that Holden has managed to get something from that footage.

CHAPTER 21

Nik

I findBrie where she said she’d be, in one of the high-security rooms. It takes a while to convince the Golden Sands security guards around the private area that I’ve been summoned—and then only a call from Brie herself does the trick, and they escort me through. In the security room I find Holden and Brie hunched over a laptop computer in a corner, away from the security staff monitoring the casino.

Brie’s hair is pulled up in a messy bun held together by what looks like a pen, an odd contrast to the glamorous dress she still wears. Beside her, Holden looks like death warmed over—dark circles under his eyes, skin pale and clammy, his usually-styled hair in disarray.

“Any progress?” I ask, approaching cautiously. Holden jumps at the sound of my voice, his eyes wild for a moment before recognition sets in.

Brie looks up too, frustration in her eyes. “Nothing. Whoever tampered with this footage knew what they were doing. Holden’s been at it for hours, but…” She trails off, shaking her head.

I nod, studying Holden more closely. There’s something strange about him tonight, beyond the obvious exhaustion. A nervous energy radiates from him, setting my teeth on edge. “You okay, kid?”

Holden flinches, his eyes darting to Brie before dropping back to the keyboard. “I’m fine,” he mutters.

Brie gives me a look that tells me she’s asked him herself a few times, and got about this far.

I motion her aside, and she leaves Holden there scrolling fast then slow through the footage. “Things went okay with Sabatelli?” I ask, trying not to sound interested. I don’t actually want to know. If I don’t know, I can’t be forced to tell Eva.

“Things went about how I expected them to,” she sighs. “It wasn’t him. He didn’t kill Terry, and he didn’t hire the hitmen who came after me.” She says nothing more, and although I want to push, I don’t.

“Okay. Then—” Just as I’m about to suggest we pay a visit to Sophie Johnson, Holden lets out an involuntary shout of excitement, followed by slumping back in his seat.

“Sorry,” he says, as we stare over at him. “Thought I had something.” He goes back to listlessly fiddling with the computer.

“What’s up with him?” I ask Brie quietly.

Brie goes over to him and places a hand on his shoulder, her touch gentle, but he jumps in his seat. “Holden,seriously. What’s going on? And stop telling me it’s nothing. I’ll help you, whatever it is.”

His shoulders droop even lower, if that’s possible. “I’mscared, Brie,” he whispers, voice cracking. “Someone’s been leaving me threatening notes, and I swear to God, someone’s been following me. I canfeelit, someone’s after me, just like they’re after you. I tried telling Frank, but he laughed it off. Said I was just trying to get attention.”

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