Page 24 of Assassin's Heart
“Same routine they pulled when they left Leah’s house,” Remi said.
They’d tried to track Ross from my house?
“Yep,” Eli agreed. “Windon and his associate know how to stay out of sight.”
I glanced at the still image showing the car in the parking lot. Ross sat in the passenger’s seat, his arm extended as he held the phone to Brooke’s face. Beside him, in the driver’s seat, sat another man. I couldn’t make out much more than dark clothes and hair. It could be anyone.
“Who is the second man?” I asked.
Eli did some quick clicking, and a mug shot appeared on one of the unused screens. “Name is Joe Southerland. Been in jail multiple times for crimes believed to be tied to the Fiori mob family.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “What kind of crimes?”
Remi squeezed my shoulder again, his thumb drifting to the back of my neck. “You don’t want to know that.”
“He’s obviously loyal to the family,” Eli put in. “Fiori is making sure Ross stays put, is my guess.”
“We know they’re blackmailing him,” Remi said.
I flinched. Much as I hated Ross right now, he was my brother. Older than me, yes, but my childhood had been full of memories of the two of us. Good memories. It was hard to believe the man I knew had become a mob informant and Lord only knew what else. Had he “lost” evidence? Misled investigations? Passed on faulty information? Had he killed for them?
The thought made my stomach cramp.
“The problem is”—Remi straightened, came around Eli’s chair to lean back against the desk—“too much pressure on a guy this far out on a limb and he’s likely to snap.”
I rubbed at the ache beginning between my eyes. God, please don’t let Ross snap with Brooke in his possession.
“So what’s our plan? What do we do?” I asked.
Remi slid his knuckles back and forth over the stubble on his cheek. “We don’t have a location, no leads at this point. Right now our only option is to meet Windon in two days like he wants.”
“What?” The tripping of my heartbeat pushed me to my feet. “We can’t wait that long!”
“We don’t have an alternative.” The words were implacable, but the sympathy in Remi’s expression told me he had some idea how hard they were to swallow.
Eli swiveled his seat around. “I won’t stop looking, Leah. I have a program running right now, searching all camera feeds for the last two days for that license plate, the make and model of the car, everything. If I get even a whiff, you’ll hear about it.”
“And if we can find her, we’ll go in sooner,” Remi said. “Until then our best bet is to find the recordings.”
That ache shifted to the back of my skull. Why would no one believe me? “I don’t know where they are.”
“You never know what you don’t know till you find it.”
“That makes no sense,” I told Eli. Actually it made perfect sense. I just wanted to be contrary. Why? Because everything in my life was out of my control, I’d failed at the most important job I’d ever had, and Remi was looking at me with that damn sympathy in his eyes again.
“Have a seat, Leah.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’d rather stand.” If I confined myself in a chair again, I might start screaming and never stop.
He didn’t argue. He stared me down. “You can do this, Leah. Have a seat so we can see the intel Eli has pulled.”
I glanced down at Eli’s blond head, studiously down to avoid our fighting. On the screen directly in front of him was what looked like multiple documents, including a mug shot of Angelo when he was much, much younger than when I’d known him.
Biting my lip, I sat in the chair and scooted closer to Eli. “Okay.”
“I’ve got what little was public record,” Eli said, a hint of amusement in his voice before he cleared it. “And some of what wasn’t. Looks like Angelo stayed pretty far under the radar.”
Remi crossed his legs at the ankles. “Unusual for an enforcer. Usually they can’t contain the rage.”
