Page 107 of Filthy Little Games

“Then call up Aldo with a car, and we’ll head over to the harbor.”

I shoot a text to Aldo to come and pick us up. He replies that he just loaded Zara and the rest of the group, so he’ll be around to get us soon.

While Dre and I are waiting, a long black suburban rolls up to the curb. The passenger window rolls down, and the driver with a shaved head waves, showing the sea serpent ink on his forearm. “Mr. Ferraro?”

“Yes?”

“I’m Jimmy, picking up your passengers for Mr. Marino.”

“What?” I walk up to the window, getting closer so I can hear him better.

“You had some travelers that needed to be picked up today at four, right? Sorry, I was late. Traffic. You know how it is. But Mr. Marino said we’ll get boarded up with plenty of time to spare.”

“What? No.” I shake my head. “I don’t understand. I thought they had already left.” Aldo just told me he loaded their luggage. I look down the street as my stomach sinks to the sidewalk. “At least, I thought they had left.”

I call Aldo.

“Hi, boss.”

“You said you loaded up Zara and the others?”

“Yes, sir.” That was about, ah, ten or fifteen minutes ago.”

“Are you sure it was Marino’s SUV?”

“Yes, sir. Well, I assumed it was his…”

“Fuck.”

“Maybe she just got in someone else’s Uber,” Dre suggests.

But the odds of that are slim. It’d have to be one hell of an Uber to carry Zara, her daughter, two nannies and four guards plus some luggage.

“I need to call Bertelli,” I say as I end the call with Matteo and find the number in my contacts.

“Creed,” Weston says when he answers. “I trust the documents were to your satisfaction.”

“When did you drop them off?”

“My messenger handed them to a woman with long curly hair matching one of the photos about…fifteen minutes ago.”

“Did your messenger also give her and the others a ride by chance?”

“No.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. He was on a scooter.”

“Fuck!”

I end the call without another word, too furious to speak.

“We’ll find her,” Dre says, his phone already to his ear, calling someone he must think can help. “Hey, Anthony. It’s Dre. Do you have the street camera footage for the past half hour? Yeah, the boss and I are coming to take a look. Thanks.”

He hangs up. “Let’s go to security, find out the make and model of the vehicle, and try to get a license plate. Ask Gideon to let you know if they show up at the harbor in case it’s just an Uber mix up.”

“Yeah, okay.” My entire body is numb as I somehow get my fingers to type out the text to Gideon. Then I send a group text to the entire family to be on the lookout for them, including my men with Zara, who I ask to contact me immediately.

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