Page 3 of Scarlet Angel

“No. We’ll crank suspicions if we know more than the bobbies. Need the story kept close, then, in a couple of days, be certain the victims’ names are released. If for any reason they aren’t?—”

“We’ll leak them,” he interjects.

“We won’t.” Media isn’t Ash’s strength. “It’s gotta be the proper authorities. It’s got to be natural. Believable.”

The mobile flashes a flood alert.

“They’re saying we might lose electricity,” he says.

I won’t. I have a generator.

“Why don’t you head home? Check on your old man.”

He nods, grabbing his coat and hat.

“When your pop’s ready, say the word. We’ve got land, you know. Can set you up with him out here.” Ash lives in the village, a stone’s throw away.

He grins. “The old man’s happiest within walking distance of the pub. And while I love the man, I don’t wanna live with him. But I will head on. Make sure the oaf’s stumbled home.”

I follow him through the house to the foyer, as much out of boredom as anything else.

“Think this is the end of it?” Ash asks after he’s donned his boots.

Eliminating the traitor helps. At least, it might satisfy the person who messaged. But that message doesn’t sit right. How did this unnamed person know Leo was the leak? What else does he know? Who is he?

The wind blows the front door back, and rain paints the entry.

“Let’s ratchet security up a notch.”

“You expecting the Grigi boys to come after you?”

I eye my friend. “Always a possibility. But unlikely.”

“Possible, though,” he says, a touch too argumentative for my taste. “They were after them, too, you know? Might have saved yourself a mint if you let them take care of it.”

Ash is wrong. Leo wouldn’t leave Willow behind with an ex-Mossad assassin hunting her. He loved his wife. And he wouldn’t confront Cohen either. The man’s skills precede him. He wouldn’t risk a loss to Cohen knowing he’d be leaving his wife unprotected. If it had only been Italian goons in a car, he might’ve walked outside and blown their brains out. Problem solved. And Leo might’ve exited, following Interpol’s plan—without his bride. No, I needed to act.

Besides, if I didn’t act, the mystery messenger might have.

“What’s next?” Ash asks.

“You’re going home. Tomorrow, when the storm’s passed, beef up the ranks.”

“I meant the Italians.”

He’s right to ask. We’re not done with the thieving bastards.

“Believe it or not, Willow was the winning sacrificial pawn.”

Ash doesn’t understand what I’m saying, but there’s no need for his understanding tonight. He’ll understand soon enough when I bring Willow’s charming cousin into my home.

Some plans come together so perfectly, it’s tempting to believe in the gods.

CHAPTER2

SCARLET

My uncle shoots me a disapproving glare as I sidle up to the bar. I return his glower, a subliminal dare. As expected, he frowns—the gray boss always frowns—and follows my mother, aunt, and cousin into the lift.

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