Page 80 of Consumed By the Mafia

Mercer arched a brow.

Albert flipped the page, humming low. “I never did like them for that,” he said, almost to himself. “That Dante does fantastic charity work every year.” He barely paused, obviously still reading. “This list is terrifying. You believe it?” His gaze finally lifted back to hers.

Abigail nodded. “Yes, sir. As daunting as it is, I believe, if nothing else, that Silva believes everything he told me. And in this case, that wouldn’t line up with him making up these names, so there has to be some degree of criminal element attached to them.”

Mercer folded her arms across her chest. “Why the hell would the Irish mob just suddenly want to invade Newark?”

At the predictable question, Abigail held up the recorder. “Silva’s answer to that is on here. Everything is on here.”

twenty-four

Blast From the Past

In an attempt toarrest as many of the names on the list as possible before any of their targets realized what was happening, Newark’s field office had put out a call for reinforcements. Paperwork was rushed, people were pulled from less-critical tasks, and for most of the rest of the day, Abigail found herself trapped at the office. Almost always in the company of at least two other agents, even when she slipped into the bathroom, so it wasn’t until she was on her way to the airport as part of the small convoy to pick up another batch of arrivals that she finally found herself alone. Alone enough to check her phone formessages.

The sun had mostly disappeared, plunging Newark into a darker early evening than usual thanks to the lingering smoke from the bombed-out high-rise. The haze in the sky obscured any stars and the portion of moon that should have shone through, and somehow, the entire ambiance of the night felt right.

Abigail set her phone into the suctioned mount once she was out of sight of the office, and as soon as she could she swiped over to her messages. It wasn’t the smartest idea, but anxiety had gripped her for hours. She’d had no way to know if anyone had reached out to her. No way to know what was going on. She barely cared about the missionshehad been deemed instrumental in. She only cared to know if Ryoma was all right. This was the longest they’d been separated in days, and as stupid as it was, the distance felt like a chasm in her heart.

She saw quickly she had three waiting messages. Two were from Brandi De Salvo, of all people, and one was from Ryoma. Consumed by impatience, she read them out of order.

Ryoma: Keep up the good work, baby girl. See you when it’s done.

When it’s done?His message felt like it was lacking far too much information. She wanted to call him and demand so many things. What had happened after they’d talked last, had he been far enough away to avoid getting hurt in the blast or resulting chaos? What the hell did he mean ‘when it’s done’? Why did that feel so … final?

Abigail sucked in a breath, forcing herself to focus on the road long enough make the next necessary merge. She couldn’tget her answers now, like it or not. At least he’d texted. And his message hadn’t said anything dismissive—he still wanted her to come back to him. She was the one feeling overemotional and probably latching on to the wrong things.

Focus, Abigail.There was so much to be done. She tapped the next thread.

Brandi: Mercer is clean.

Brandi: Call me when you can talk.

The messages were nearly an hour apart, which in itself sent a fresh spike of anxiety stabbing through her. It didn’t make sense. How could Mercer be clean?Could she really just be that cold?Abigail had to suppose it was possible.But then…There was only one way to know why she’d been instructed to call, and not a lot of time left to make that call.

Abigail waited until she could scope out the nearest road sign, guessing her remaining time based on the flow of traffic. If the conversation took too long, she’d be screwed. If the information was important, she couldn’t afford not to know it. She would just have to make her time crunch clear. She tapped the green button under Brandi’s contact and then tapped the speaker icon, and ringing filled the cab.

Seconds passed and nausea built like a rising tide in Abigail’s gut.

“Been busy?” an unfamiliar female voice asked barely a heartbeat after the soft click of the line connecting.

Abigail squeezed the steering wheel. “Still am,” she said. Then she paused. “This …isBrandi, right?”

A short huff of a laugh preceded the response. “Yeah, sorry. I guess this is the first time we’ve actually talked. But if you don’t have time…”

“I have maybe five minutes,” Abigail said. “After that, I don’t know when I’ll be clear to call again. I was sent to help pick up some extra hands for tonight’s big sweeping arrest.”

“Sounds fun,” Brandi said. “I’ll try to be quick. We didn’t find anything sketchy on Mercer, not worse than a few personnel complaints. Sounds like she’s just a bitch.”

Abigail couldn’t decide if that was disappointing or a relief.

Brandi kept talking. “Since you were so sure about an inside problem, I did some more digging, and I found signs of an external hack.”

Abigail scowled. “That can’t be possible.” Even as the words fell from her lips, she felt like an idiot.

“Sorry, Abby,” Brandi said, sounding as though she were grinning. “The feds don’t have all the skill on their side. That said,youhaveus, and I was able to follow those breadcrumbs back to the source. Came back to an IP address registered to a Dale Morrow, and whoever he is, you were his sole obsession because your information is all he took.”

Brandi fell quiet for several seconds, but Abigail couldn’t speak. Her breath was stuck in her lungs and her palms had started to sweat.It can’t be…She had to have misheard.

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