Page 24 of Taking Care of the Target

Gio Mancini was a little wet behind the ears, but he was as dedicated to getting Carlo as Jim was. In fact, probably more, which was hard to believe with everything he had riding on this case.

Jim tossed several folders in front of Gio. “Here’s everything since the beginning. The stuff on top’s more recent.”

Gio flipped open the files on Dante Costa and Salvatore Esposito, a hungry edge to his eyes as he scanned the information. At first the FBI had hesitated to let Mancini work the case because of his personal history. His father, a dockworker, had been down at the docks when Carlo and several of his men had shown up. When the senior Mancini saw them beating up another man, he’d made a call to 911. Unfortunately, he was discovered and shot while still on the phone, waiting for the police to arrive.

That was the theory, anyway, going off the knowledge Carlo Rossi often did business there. The description fit, but was vague enough it could fit a lot of men and there was no evidence to tie Carlo or his men to the scene. No bodies had been found—neither Mancini’s nor whoever they’d beat up—and the cops didn’t have enough to do anything but question Carlo. He’d played the Lawyer Card, and once the shyster showed up, Carlo walked, the way the slippery bastard always managed to do.

That’d been six years ago, and no doubt the reason Gio decided to go into a career taking down bad guys. That made Gio motivated, plus he spoke Italian, which came in handy when listening to taps or possibly infiltrating the organization. They were still going back and forth on whether to have him try to work his way into the drug ring.

“Not much on the nephew,” Gio said, pulling up Vince DaMarco’s file.

“Just petty stuff, all before he was eighteen. It might just mean he’s gotten better at not getting caught, but he spends a considerable amount of time running the restaurant. His brother’s been picked up several times for possession, but he always makes bail and with only a minor slap on the wrist, the charges disappear. He doesn’t even live in Jersey right now, so he’s not a big part of the organization, if any.”

“What else do we have in place? Taps? Surveillance?”

“Yes and yes. We don’t have the manpower for the surveillance I’d like, and I think one of the guys spotted a tail a couple of months ago, because their activities came to a screeching halt. It’s just now starting to pick back up, and if they see us, they’ll pull back again. But I’ll tell you right now the attention to detail on this case is waning more and more by the day. Guys are sick of sorting through hours of calls and sitting in cars with nothing to show for it. We almost lost our taps because we’ve had them so long without gaining any useful information.”

Mancini nodded, his mouth in a grim line.

“But I hope having you on the case is going to pump new life into it. One of our female agents also put in an application for a serving position at Rossi’s, since they recently had an opening—I’ll circle back to the waitress who used to work there in a minute. Our agent’s already made friends with Mia, the waitress who’s dating Dante, so hopefully that’ll help get her hired. Dante’s a known philanderer, too, so if we get real lucky, he pisses her off and she decides to spill details that could help us land something substantial.

“We’ve got the phone taps on the top guys, but they’re careful—they’ve been at this a long time, and they’re good at it.”

Gio lifted the file on Cassandra Dalton. “Is this the waitress you mentioned?”

Jim filled him in on her accident and subsequent memory loss. “I spent a few days tailing her, but all I saw was a girl going from her new job to home.” He’d been so determined to talk to her after she’d been discharged from the hospital, but the next time he saw her, he decided to just observe—that way he wouldn’t expose either one of them. “Either they got to her so well that she fooled all the doctors and nurses and they’ve decided to leave her alone—”

“Unlikely if she knows something real,” Gio said.

“I agree. So most likely she doesn’t know—or at least doesn’t remember knowing anything—and is a dead end. We’ve already got a lot of ground to cover and not enough manpower, so I pulled back. Figured if she goes near the restaurant, or if any of the guys pays her a visit, we bring her in for a talk.”

Jim sat on the edge of Mancini’s desk and idly thumbed through the stack of files he knew by heart. Maybe the kid would see something new. “Basically we’re just waiting for someone to slip up, but we can’t push too hard or they’ll duck and cover, and we need something big enough to take Carlo Rossi down. I don’t want him slipping away from us again.”

“I understand,” Gio said, a fierce determination hardening his features. “I want to take him down, too. And don’t worry. I’m not going to let my personal feelings get in the way. I’m going to use them to get this guy put away for life.”

***

Within seconds of stepping inside Carlo’s office, Vince had Sal pinned against the dark wooden panels, his forearm against his windpipe.

“What the hell?” Sal squeaked, his voice satisfyingly weak as he tried in vain to wiggle loose, his toes barely brushing the ground.

“That’s what I want to know,” Vince said. “Some goons shot at Cassie last night. While I was right by her.” He pressed harder, watching Sal’s skin redden as the oxygen stopped flowing.

“What is he talking about?” Carlo asked.

“I…” Sal gasped. “It…” He clawed at the arm cutting off his air supply, but Vince didn’t loosen his grip. The anger pulsing through him scared him, because it also intrigued him. It’d be so easy to push a little harder for a few more seconds and to be done with thepezzo di merdafor good.

“Vince, let him down.” Carlo’s voice left no room for argument, but Vince held Sal against the wall for a couple more seconds, just to give him something to remember him by. Sal gasped and sputtered as he raised a hand to his freed throat.

“It could be worse,” Vince said. “You could have two Uzis pointed at your head right now. Get the full experience of trying to dodge that many bullets at once.”

“Sal,” Carlo snapped. “I told you to call that off. I made itveryclear.”

Sal’s eyes widened, and he pressed back against the wall he’d been so desperately trying to get away from only seconds ago. “I tried, Boss. I left a message, but…They called last night to tell me it was done.”

“She’s dead?” Carlo swung his gaze to Vince. “Cassie’s dead?” He wanted to say,Yeah, you guys got her. No need to keep trying.But with her running around the city, that’d prove problematic to say the least.

If I could get her to leave the city, no questions…Even still, Carlo wasn’t stupid. He’d want proof. And she’d want to know why she had to leave and why she also needed to change her name, which would lead to more complications. Best to stick with the original plan. Well, not theoriginal, original plan, but the best one he could think of to keep her safe.

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