Page 72 of Consumed By the Mafia

Not wanting to lose their momentum now that Silva had finally admitted to knowing Coughlan, Abigail hurriedly voiced her own observation. “You saidsupposedto. Does that mean you didn’t?” Every set of eyes in the room shifted to her that time, but she didn’t look away from the uprooted police chief.

Silva swallowed again and nodded, slowly. “Nurse didn’t call me ‘til the next day,” he said. “She claimed they miscommunicatedwho’d make the call, but it didn’t matter. The window was lost, so I didn’t rush it.” He dropped his gaze. “I never liked De Salvo, but fuck, now that he thinks he has a foothold, I’m seein’ what a whacko Coughlan is.”

Dante drummed his fingers on the table. “Then you might have some idea as to why we want him out of the equation, as quickly as possible.”

Silva looked over at Dante, wide-eyed and half-panicked. “He’s—”

“We are more than aware of what he’s capable of.” Dante finally leaned forward enough to hook his elbow onto the table and lowered his voice just a little, surely for effect. “You couldn’t have picked a worse man to betray me for, Rodrigo. Consider that.”

Silva’s regained color drained again from his face.

Abigail spoke up once more. “It’s protection you want?” She waited until he’d dragged his gaze back around to her. “Consider that on the table. But we need more than an illicit agreement to make a phone call to a third party to make that happen. Tell me everything you know about Coughlan, how you came into contact with him, what he wants, and what his plan is. Give me names of people in his pocket, groups in his affiliation, and locations of where to find them.” She pressed one palm flat, not looking away. “We’re shutting themalldown. You could be a goddamn hero if you play this right.”

The room was silent for several seconds as Silva seemed to weigh her words with whatever fear and pride he held inside.

Finally, he licked his lips, looked between her and Dante, and settled on Dante. “Is it true … your guys nabbed Cezar Barros last night?”

Abigail blinked and arched a brow at the question.

Dante’s had furrowed. “Would it make a difference if we had?”

“Barros,” Silva said, nerves slipping into his voice, “was a trigger for Coughlan. Since he was the last Ink Blot boss on the board. Coughlan figured sooner or later they’d be wiped out, so he planned to wait ‘til that happened, and when the last one was grabbed—when you were distracted with that, and probably looking forhim—he’d have his own guys slip in.”

Warning bells fired off in Abigail’s head.

“So Barros was as much a pawn as a soldier,” Dante said. “What’s the counter-plan?”

Silva shifted in his seat, the chain under the table clanking on the hard floor. “Eleonora De Salvo.”

Abigail’s stomach clenched. Eleonora De Salvo was Dante’s mother. Romeo’s mother, and therefore Mikey’s mother. She might as well have been Cristiano’s mother as far as Abigail understood. She was a grandmother, and a widow.

Brendan Coughlan was a real bastard.

Dante dipped a hand into his pocket and proceeded to slam a lighter on the table. He moved his hand far enough off of the lighter to reveal what it was, but not so far that he couldn’t snatch it up in the blink of an eye. As his hand moved away, he rumbled a single, fearsome word. “When?”

Silva couldn’t tear his gaze from the lighter, his eyes blown wide. His voice shook for a second when he answered. “Tw-twelve hours after.”

Abigail turned her focus away from Silva. She wasn’t sure what time, exactly, anyone would have been sent after Barros. But she knew the twelve-hour mark had to be approaching.

Dante grabbed up his lighter and shoved to his feet, raw anger visible on his face. “Cooperate with Agent Fitzgerald if you value your miserable life, Rodrigo.” He twisted on his heel even as the words left his mouth.

Ryoma pulled open the door without being asked, and in the silence, his low question carried through the room. “Boss…?”

“Stay.” Dante strode through, projecting his voice as he entered the hall. “Enzo. We’re leaving!”

Ryoma pushed the door shut, and this time stepped into the room. Instead of claiming the vacated chair, he opted to lean against the wall behind Abigail. “You better hope that’s not a giant fucking lie. That little lighter would be merciful compared to what he’d do if it was.”

Abigail frowned, whispers of Peter Marchesi’s words from their previous interviews coming back to her. Peter had mentioned how his boss, the Dragon, used fire to maim, torture, and kill. How horrible and scarring it was even for those who only watched. Those he forced to watch.Guess that wasn’t a lie.She kind of wished it had been.

Silva made a weak grunting sound. “That was the plan last I heard,” he said. “Nothing I can do if they changed it afterIwas grabbed.” He narrowed his eyes at Abigail.

She pulled herself together and tilted her head. “If you’d rather I let you free at this point, I can arrange that. You’ll walk and we’ll act on what you’ve told us. Publicly.”

“You promised!”

Abigail shrugged. “I said it was on the table. If you cease all cooperation now, then the deal’s off.”

He slammed his fists on the table again. “You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

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