Page 53 of Gin & Trouble

“That’s what I want you to find out.” His tone could have sliced a man in half, and I had a strong feeling that’s exactly what he wanted to do to the politician.

I turned and typed the name into Dante’s program. Not surprisingly, the information populated at light speed. “Harrison Cooper Meriwether, forty-six. Parents are—”

“Forty-six?” Leo’s voice rose. “Are you sure that’s the right guy?”

Motioning to a photo of Meriwether on the screen, I said, “It’s him, but I would have pegged him for thirty-five at the most. He must have some George Clooney or Keanu Reeves genes.”

He frowned. “I’d like to know when he arrived in New Orleans, where he’s staying—”

“I’ll check flight records, but he lives in Baton Rouge. Chances are he drove down.” As I typed, I rattled off a quick list to make sure I was on the right track. “Traffic cameras. License plate. Hotel records.”

“Perfect. I need the info as you gather it, ” Leo said.

I gave him a quick nod without slowing my fingers and willed him to go away. The backlog on my desk would have to wait until I warned Sophia and figured out Leo’s connection to Meriwether.

And I would tell Dante the truth. Today.

16

Dante

My weekend suckedand my Monday was worse. After nearly twenty-four hours at my desk debugging and testing and debugging some more, I still hadn’t found the problem in my software. It didn’t make sense that the only alert to fail was the one notifying me of the Abruzzo’s arrival.

The one bright spot in what was shaping up to be a spectacular mess was Julia. While she’d pretty much gone mute since overhearing my half of the conversation with Marco, she hadn’t left—a win in my book.

With so much going sideways in both of our lives, I liked knowing she was safe.

Unlike the rest of us.

I downed my second energy drink of the morning, shook out my arms, and queued up the security footage from the Lakeshore Airport. Whatever the hell was going on with my program would have to wait until I knew for sure Abruzzo had left the States. Once I got a visual on him, I’d work backward to the plane’s arrival, and track his activities while in New Orleans.

After skimming a ridiculous amount of video, I found the private jet on a camera feed. From the looks of it, the plane was parked on an unpaved tertiary runway. Which made sense if they didn’t want to draw attention to what they were loading or unloading from the aircraft.

I set the speed to triple time and waited for something to happen. My eyes burned from lack of sleep, but I forced myself to focus on the monitor.

A dark sedan parked on the runway. I slowed the feed and zoomed in on the car. The images were as grainy as the Big Foot videos on the conspiracy theory websites, but there was no mistaking the man exiting the backseat.

Tommaso Abruzzo. I’d know his lanky body and slouched shoulders anywhere. As kids, my brothers and I had nicknamed him Lurch, as in the creepy guy from the Addams Family.

Rather than stalking directly to the plane, Tommaso reached into the car and pulled a woman to her feet. She was tall, the top of her head coming to his chin. I couldn’t be sure, but between her height and her long dark hair, she looked a hell of a lot like Sophia Abruzzo—AKA the woman who’d killed my brother.

Who else could it be? It’s her. I fucking know it.

My grip tightened on the mouse and my eyes narrowed. I struggled to breathe as if my anger had burned the oxygen away like a raging fire.

How long has she been in New Orleans? Right under our fucking noses.

I dialed Marco’s number.

“Pronto, Dante.”

That he’d answered the phone in Italian pissed me the hell off. I wanted my brother back, not the freaking Godfather. “I’m looking at the footage of Abruzzo leaving Mississippi. He has a woman who looks a lot like Sophia with him.”

“I need to know if it’s her.” He spoke in a quiet tone, but his voice could have sliced through cast iron.

The tighter I zoomed in the more the video pixelated, but there was no mistaking the scene playing out on the screen. “She managed to land a round house kick to his crotch before head-butting him in the face…with her hands tied.”

“Damn.” Marco went quiet for several seconds. “We need to talk. Where are you?”