Page 38 of Maid For The Mafia Informant

Sneaky.

“What a bitch,” I exclaim dryly, not wanting her anywhere near my Ben ever again.

“So what now?” I ask, glad to see Ben cheerful about one thing at least from all this.

He cocks his ear, there’s a banging sound from down in the garden, I only noticed it as the wind’s picked up coming in off the ocean.

“How ‘bout you go close the greenhouse? Enrico will hold me accountable if anything happens to those plants,” he says with mock authority.

“I’ll tell Partridge to come get us. I think he’s on the level. He has the DA in custody. I’ll unlock the gates and meet you back here for a little midnight snack while we wait?” he suggests with a grin, forcing my hand onto his crotch and making me suck air in sharply, weak in the knees already at the thought.Chapter TwentyBenIt’s a secure email server, Government Issue so I figure I’m safe enough in replying to Partridge to come get us both.

I can’t fight the whole mafia on my own, Enrico was right. And I can’t go around thinking everyone’s out to get me either.

Sophie puts some pants on before I watch her from behind, blowing out air again as I watch her sweet ass toddle down the steps to the greenhouse.

Partridge replies almost instantly, they’ll send a chopper, which I think is a little overboard but fair enough.

I make my way out the front, deciding to walk up the long drive after leaving the front door open.

The chilly air is invigorating, I figure a short walk will give me time to clear my head. Sophie will come out any minute now and follow me no doubt, knowing her.

I turn back a couple of times to see her, but once I pass the bend in the driveway the whole house is out of sight.

I shiver a little, wishing I’d put a little more on myself. Wishing I had pockets to thrust my hands into. The coast is warm during the day, but tonight, there’s a cold wind blowing in.

Maybe a storm is coming.

I’m not quite sure of the order of things.

I either see the gate hanging off its hinges first or I hear Sophie’s scream carry on the wind.

Either way, I suddenly feel like the biggest fool alive. I’ve done the one thing I swore I’d never do: let her out of my reach for a second.

I can’t feel my feet on the freezing gravel as I sprint, nor can I feel the stabbing chill inside my chest as I try to breathe, because I can’t.

The thought of them.

With Sophie.

It’s too much. I’ll never forgive myself.

The house is open at both ends, I left the front door open and Sophie let herself outback.

I skid across the sandstone tiles inside, my feet bleeding and not caring one bit, and rush out to the place I know she was headed, the little greenhouse.

Before I even reach it, I can see a cracked pane and once I stand at the door, the moon passing through dark clouds illuminates her phone resting next to a shattered pot plant.

I grab her phone, clutching it to my chest as I let out a roar of despair.

God, My Sophie! I’m Sorry!

I spin on my heels, racing from one end of the garden to the next, and then all through the house. Even back out to the driveway again, but it’s obvious.

She’s gone.

They’ve taken her.

It’s not the cold that’s frozen me but the realization I’m helpless.

Sure, Partridge is on his way, and then what? He’ll give me the whole ‘do what we can’ speech.

Local police will get involved once her dad finds out, but people get snatched by the mob every day, most never return to even tell the tale.

I feel numb, in shock.

I busy myself with cleaning up as best I can and getting dresses properly. If I’m gonna be of any use, I can’t be running around barefoot in a robe.

Sophie’s phone rings and I answer it, expecting it to be her somehow.

“Sophie?” I ask pleadingly.

A low sound from the other end tells me it’s not Sophie.

It’s Enrico.

“Talk to me, Slade,” he says gruffly. “I’m seeing federal choppers on radar heading to my villa.”

“How did you-” I start to ask, but he’s through with being the patient, helping me out kinda guy.

“Federal. Fucking. Choppers, Slade. Talk!” he shouts, and I can hear his hand smashing down onto something.

Sounds like little Enrico is not so little anymore.

“It’s Partridge… he’s coming to get me. They took Sophie,” I stammer, not even caring that I’ve started to crack.

“Took her, how?” he asks incredulously as if I must be kidding him.

“In the greenhouse… I was checking the gate out front… they took her, just left her phone, and smashed one of the plants,” I blubber, trying to collect myself.

“They what?” Enrico asks coldly, his tone so forceful, so commanding, I repeat everything without hesitating.

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