Page 51 of The White Picket Fence

“Good girl. You’ll learn. Now hurry. I want you to see our house.”

“I...I need to pack a bag.”

“No, you don’t. I have everything you need right here. I will take care of you from now on.”

She felt dizzy and realized she’d stopped breathing. She sucked in a breath and forced another smile. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“I know exactly how long it will take you to get here. I’ve already called you a cab. They’ll be pulling up outside of Ciccotelli’s house in two minutes. I’ll give you an extra five minutes of travel time in case you get stopped by a light. And, like I said, if I get even a whiff of a cop, Kayla will suffer.”

Charlotte jerked a nod. “Okay. I understand.”

He ended the call and she sat for a moment, staring at the phone in her hand.

She was not walking into this like a lamb to slaughter. He didn’t intend to let Kayla live. Why would he?So sacrificing myself makes no sense.

But she had to play along.

Hands shaking, she called Tino’s phone, but it went to voicemail.

Because he’s at the prison.They would have made him leave his phone behind. Calling Vito would be just as useless then.

She didn’t want to call 911. First, it would take too long to explain this to a stranger, and she’d be late to her rendezvous. He would probably hurt Kayla. Second, Philly PD would send cruisers with sirens blazing, and Kayla definitely wouldn’t stand a chance.

Closing her eyes, she called Tino’s phone again. She needed him to understand. Especially if she never saw him again. Grabbing his pillow, she held it to her nose and inhaled his scent one more time as his voicemail message played. When she heard the beep, she set the pillow aside.

She’d come so close to getting what she’d wanted since the day she’d walked away from Tino Ciccotelli twenty-four years ago. She wasn’t going to give that up without a fight.

“Tino, it’s me. Charlie. If I don’t see you again, just know that I’ve always loved you. I never stopped, not in all these years. I’m sorry I’m doing this, but I don’t know what else to do. He’s got Kayla, and she’s just a girl. But you’ll figure this out. I trust you. And if you don’t, don’t you dare blame yourself.”

She ended the call, then checked her contacts for the one person who’d be able to get word to Tino and Vito at the prison.

* * *

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Thursday, March 31, 10:35 a.m.

Tino satat the interview table next to Vito, studying Gus Greene. The man was shackled, hands and feet, but he didn’t look terribly dangerous. He was, however, serving life for murdering three people—strangling them with his bare hands—so appearances were apparently deceiving.

He’d served fifteen years of a life sentence and had spent three of those years with Kevin Hale as his cellmate. Those years had been Hale’s final three of his fourteen-year sentence.

“Mr. Greene,” Vito said with a nod. “I’m Lieutenant Ciccotelli with the Homicide Department.”

His brother had instructed Tino to remain silent unless he signaled that it was okay to speak. Tino chafed at that, but figured he was lucky to be included in the interview, so he obeyed.

For now.

Greene grinned. “‘Mister.’ Look at me, getting called ‘Mister.’ Gotta say, that’s been a while.”

“This is my colleague,” Vito said. “He’s a sketch artist. He worked with witnesses to recent violent attacks in the city.” He slid a photo across the table. “Witnesses described this man. Kevin Hale.”

“Sonofabitch. Kevin, not you, Lieutenant.”

“You didn’t like him, then?” Vito asked.

Greene gave an exaggerated shudder. “Hell no. He was fuckin’ nuts. But, if he was on your side, you were safe in here.”

Vito lifted his brows. “He provided protection?”

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