“The guard who brings Puzo will wait outside the opposite door,” the officer waved to the door across from us. “I’ll be right outside this one. When you’re ready, knock or press the buzzer.” He pointed to the black button on the wall next to the exit.
Then he was gone, leaving us locked in the small room.
My nerves tried to rattle to life, but I shut them down just as I did on our missions. Nerves didn’t have a place here. I wasn’tleaving this cell without having gotten something out of Puzo.
I assessed Fallon as she sat in one of the chairs. This morning, she’d been happy, her cheeks full of color that matched her vibrant pink tank top and her eyes shining with that magical inner glow. But that light was dimmed here. The shadows under her eyes seemed more prominent, just like the bruising at her temple. Ike would like what he saw, not only because she was beautiful but because she’d been hurt…because she was clearly troubled and suffering.
I hated it—hated she was here at all.
The door on the other side opened to reveal a guard, and behind him, a man shuffled in, legs and arms cuffed. The man was almost as tall as the guard, with broad shoulders and dark hair. His face was turned down rather than looking at us, and something spiked across my neck—a warning of something not quite right.
The guard shifted, and the prisoner stepped forward.
When he finally looked up, I expected to see anger and hate and maybe satisfaction in his eyes. Instead, I saw confusion.
One that matched mine.
“What the hell is this?” I growled.
The guard reacted, tension immediately straightening his shoulders, hand reaching for his baton. “You asked to see Ike Puzo, right?”
The prisoner’s dark eyes took me in before jumping to Fallon. I pulled her from the chair and pushed her behind me. “We did. So go get him.”
Surprise leaked over the guard’s face. He glanced at the prisoner, brows drawn, and waved a hand. “This is him.”
“This is not Ike fucking Puzo.”
It hit me. The piece of the puzzle we’d all been missing. Andie had identified Ike Puzo when she’d seen his picture on Sweeney’s phone the other day. He’d been in the bar, harassing her, and I’d thought it had been Tony Cantori before he’d been burned to a crisp.
Fucking hell. Ike had been out the entire time.
“Puzo-78. That’s who this is.” The guard was immediately defensive.
“Listen, asshole, this isn’t Ike Puzo. This is Tony Cantori, his goddamn cousin. The one who was released earlier this year and supposedly died in a house fire. You morons let them switch places!” I was pissed, anger so deep and harsh filling me that I had trouble containing it. I had to fist my hands and lock my feet to the ground to keep myself from attacking one or both of the men.
The prisoner turned as if to run, as if to escape, but there was nowhere for him to go.
The guard spoke into his mic, voice urgent as he rambled away to his administrator. And while he concentrated on getting someone in charge, I finally moved. I shoved the inmate up against the wall, surrounded his neck with my hands, and squeezed tight enough to be a threat but not tight enough to prevent him from speaking.
“How much did he pay you to finish his sentence? And where the hell is he?”
Tony grinned, revealing rotting teeth. “I’m dying anyway.” He showed me his hands. The fingers were bent awkwardly, and the tips were white. “Scleroderma slowly eating away at me. It seemed a fair exchange. He gets out and makes sure my wife and kid are set for life. I get to escape this hell my body has created. We figured we’d have at least a few months before anyone realized what had happened.”
“Where is he?!” I shoved the guy against the wall so hard his head cracked against it.
He only cackled.
“If you think he’ll take care of your wife, you’re an idiot.”
Something flashed in his eyes. Worry.
“Tell me where he is.” I shoved my forearm into his throat, and he gasped.
“Ask. Ace.”
The construction company. I’d thought Tony had met Ace through his job, post parole, but Ike already knew him. “How the hell does Ike know Ace?”
“Federal prison, man. Ace was here for that assault on national park grounds.” Fuck. The piece we’d overlooked. How the hell had we all skipped right over the fact they’d served time together? “Once Ike and Ace both realized that a Marquess wasresponsible for putting each of them here—” His eyes drifted to Fallon, and I pushed my forearm tighter.