Page 19 of Sin City Obsession

Rocco debated the effort it would take to clean up a second daytime scene, this one including multiple witness buy-offs.

Alessa sighed and took a single step backward, bringing her level with Rocco. “We’ll talk later, then, Lou.” She wiggled her fingers as she turned, using her other hand to encourage Rocco to move with her. “Please do tellMr. GwathneyI’ll be back to chat. Bye now.”

Rocco allowed her to move him, nodding for Ignazio to lead the way outside, and latched one hand around her wrist when she adjusted pace as if to fall back. “Uh-uh,” he said under his breath. “You’re with me.”

Alessa sighed. “You were a minute away from killing that jerk with a room full of witnesses. You need to take a breather.”

“Then I guess we’re done already.”

“As a matter of fact, we are.”

Alessa waited until the SUV was moving again to make the call. In theory it’d be quick, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel a flicker of nerves twisting her gut when the line connected.

“I assume this is important if you’re calling during dinner,” Dante De Salvo said by way of greeting.

The breath caught in her lungs.Crap!She had completely forgotten to factor in the time difference before she’d dialed. Just after three was prime dinner hour back home, and it was Friday. The Friday before an impromptu family wedding, no less. Of course the family was gathering.

She tightened her grip on the phone and did her best to keep her idiocy from coming through in her voice. “Apologies for the interruption, Boss,” she began. She waited a beat, not because she expected him to respond, but because letting the words linger intensified their sincerity. Particularly when shehad no way of buttressing her words with body language. “I thought you would want to know, I have the name.”

This time, Dante hummed. The sound was low and bone-chilling even over the phone. “Only a name?”

“I’ve found his business establishment and verified George’s employment through three separate colleagues, but the employer was absent. I plan to dig up everything I can now that I know where to focus the energy.”

“Good. George has escalated on our end. The sooner we shore up his motivation, the better.”

She wanted to ask questions, wanted to know in what way the stalker-turned-home-invader had managed to escalate, but she knew well enough not to grill the Dragon. Especially since she’d interrupted his family time. “Understood.”

“The next update I want to hear is that the job is done,” Dante said. Background noise began to filter into the call and Alessa knew the conversation was nearly over. “Lean on Cavallo for anything you need to make that happen. He has my support.”

“Of course, Boss,” Alessa replied. She was pretty sure her head bobbed on reflex.

The line clicked without another word.

Alessa blew out a breath and tucked her phone away.

Rocco reached across the seat between them and settled his hand on her thigh. His touch burned through the fabric of her slacks. “We’ll get our hands on Gwathney, one way or the other. You’ll be reporting good news in no time.”

The irrational part of her only wanted to think about getting Rocco’s hands on her, but she did her best to stompthe thought down. Aloud, Alessa said, “I’m going to need everything your guys can dig up on Erik Gwathney. His guy in Newark is escalating, which means our timetable is shrinking.”

“I’ll call it in,” Emanuele said.

“As soon as we get addresses,” Rocco said, “I want teams sitting on every business and residence in the county. Round-the-clock surveillance until we find the bastard.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alessa turned her focus to Rocco. “You have some kind of interrogation space, I assume? Somewhere I can work once we have him?” The De Salvos had several that varied from veritable dungeons to rather comfortable safehouses, but she didn’t want to assume the Cavallos functioned the same.

Rocco spread his fingers wide, giving him a better—arguably indecent—grip of her thigh, and squeezed deliberately. “Of course. We’re reserving one of our nicest for your pending guest as we speak.”

She smiled.

Ignazio cleared his throat. “Sir,” he said. “We’ve got a problem.”

Rocco slid a glare forward. “What kind of problem?”

“The Fast and the Furioustype,” Ignazio said.

“That little punk,” Emanuele said, voice the closest to a snarl Alessa had yet heard it. He shifted in his seat and pulled a semi-automatic up from between his legs. “Put him behind the wheel and he suddenly grows a pair, huh?”

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