Page 3 of Taking Care of the Target

Gritting her teeth, she walked through the restaurant.It’s like she’s hell-bent on getting me fired.She once overheard Allegra complaining to Mr. Rossi about her. “After all,” she’d said with a sneer, “she’s not even Italian.”

Yeah, the blond hair, green eyes, and beyond pale skin pretty much gave her away. She hadn’t realized it was a requirement tobeItalian to work at an Italian restaurant. Luckily, Mr. Rossi seemed unfazed by the demand.

Cassie pushed through the large double doors, walked past the kitchen and walk-in freezer, and hesitated outside of Mr. Rossi’s office. She had a feeling he sometimes came into the office more to avoid Allegra than to do actual work.

Cassie’s stomach clenched. She hated to interrupt and go against Mr. Rossi’s wishes, but unfortunately, his wife was scarier than he was. Biting her lip, she knocked on the office door. When she didn’t get a reply, she twisted the knob and cracked the door open. “Sorry, but your wife insisted—”

The office was empty.

A relieved breath escaped her mouth.The meeting must already be over. I bet Mr. Rossi’s out back taking a cigar break.

She headed for the back exit, a lightness in her chest now that the threat of interrupting Mr. Rossi was over. Why he chose the alley to smoke in, she didn’t know. It was cramped and always smelled of old food and garbage, but to each their own.

She cracked open the door and caught sight of Vince. He looked handsome as ever, although there was a hardness to his features that usually wasn’t there. She heard a voice she didn’t recognize and strained to make out what he was saying.

“Please no,” the male voice said. “Just give me more time.”

Something prevented the door from opening farther, and as she moved her face closer to the small gap, she saw Dante, Sal, and Mr. Rossi. A guy knelt on the ground in front of them, hands clasped like he was praying. “I’ll get it for you, I swear.”

Mr. Rossi pointed a gun at the man’s forehead, and she vaguely registered the long silencer on the end of the barrel as her brain struggled to catch up to the surreal scene unfolding before her eyes. “It’s too late for that,” he said.

Then he pulled the trigger.

Cassie screamed.

Blood poured from the dead guy’s misshapen head, and she stared, unable to look away, unable to believe this wasn’t all just a horrific dream.Wakeupwakeupwakeup.

All the living faces turned toward her. Mr. Rossi swung up his gun, the barrel aimed right at her.

Instinct took over, and she shoved the door closed. A bullet punched a hole in the wood inches from her head, sending splinters raining down on her and causing her heart rate to skyrocket. She spun on her heel and sprinted back down the hall, past the kitchen. She darted into the dining area and weaved her way through tables and people, pushing her body as fast as it’d go.

She dared a glance over her shoulder in time to see Sal and Dante burst into the room. She bolted past a stunned-looking Allegra and pushed through the front doors.

Remembering the coffee shop cops often frequented, she rushed toward it, praying one of them would be there—at least she could get someone to call 911.

The truck came out of nowhere, but her momentum was already pushing forward, her adrenaline faster than her thoughts.

Brakes squealed.

Cassie threw her hands up in front of her.

But she knew it was too late.

Chapter Two

A constant beeping noise echoed through the room. Cassie tried to force her eyelids open, but they remained closed. Her whole body ached, her arms and legs weighing at least a thousand pounds. The sharp pain in her head wedged itself deeper, making it hard to concentrate.

Why’s my alarm beeping like that, and how can I make it stop before my head explodes?

Finally, her eyes flickered open. She stared at the white ceiling and then glanced around the hazy room. Various monitors, generic artwork, tubes inserted into her arms. An awful antiseptic smell that triggered a hundred bad memories.

Panic rose and bound her lungs.Why am I in a hospital?

She went to adjust her glasses, but they weren’t on her face.That explains the blurry vision.

Squinting at the bed frame, she looked for the call button. When she reached for it, she noticed the plastic bracelet on her wrist. She lifted it closer and tried to make out the fuzzy words.DOE, JANEwas typed in large letters.

Her panic screeched into overdrive, and she scrambled to push the call button.

---