Page 6 of Out of Sight

“I think I’d like to talk to someone in charge. I have sensitive information.” I held my head up, pretending to feel a confidence that was severely lacking.

“And I think you’d better tell me what you know so I can help you find the right person.”

“Gates!”

I turned toward the shout, seeing a man in a blazer rather than a uniform, a badge holstered at his waist next to a gun. This was a man in charge of something. His warm brown eyes were kind; he felt like a man I could trust.

“I’ve got it from here, Gates,” he said, putting a hand across my shoulder blades to lead me over to a nearby desk. “I’m Detective Mark Rosenberg. I work in homicide, but maybe I can help you out.”

“Homicide!” He raised an eyebrow at my excitement. “You’re who I need to talk to. I have a bunch of evidence to give you.”

“Evidence regarding?”

“I work for a crime boss and he just had someone killed the other night.” Detective Rosenberg sat down opposite me, quickly pulling out a notepad. “I heard the whole conversation, and I printed out a lot of documents I found hidden in their files about other people they’ve hurt and other crimes they’ve committed.”

“That’s very helpful,” he said, fighting to hold back a smile. “But you haven’t said who was murdered or who called for the hit. Who’s your boss?”

“Carlo Morelli,” I said, feeling the burst of confidence I was missing earlier.

“Morelli? You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re talking to the wrong person after all. Let’s go talk to the right person.”

And with that he stood, gesturing for me to follow him. We walked clear across the precinct, through a back hallway, and stopped in front of what looked like a conference room. The little glass window in the door showed a man sitting inside, working on a laptop. He looked up at Detective Rosenberg’s knock, irritation clear on his face.

“What do you need?” he asked, rolling his neck as he stood.

“This lady would like to talk to you.”

“And why would I like to talk to this lady? I’m busy with real work.”

The detective nodded encouragingly at me. “Tell him what you told me.”

I cleared my throat.

“My name is Claire Reynolds. I just walked out of my job with a purse full of evidence implicating a local lawyer named Carlo Morelli in dozens of crimes, including a recent murder.”

He blinked in shock, his annoyance morphing into a charming smile. “In that case, I’m Special Agent Lucas Blake with the Organized Crime department of the FBI. And I’d be really happy to talk to you.”

three

Will

Iraked my fingernails across my scalp, pulling tightly on my hair. I gripped harder until I started to feel the pain before loosening my grip, my hands dropping down to my pillow.

My fingers brushed my ear and I had a brief moment of panic, remembering the feel of Mario Costa’s severed ear in my hands before I pulled myself together.

I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to find a way to get out from under the Morelli family’s thumb. I never wanted to hurt anybody like that again, but if I stayed, I’d have to do that and more.

My phone dinged, lighting up with a text. I looked at the time display: 9:13 AM.

Office. 1 pm.

I didn’t respond immediately, tossing and turning for another couple minutes before picking the phone up again, typing out a quick reply.

I’ll be there.

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