Page 103 of Forging Caine

Part of me hoped they were all authentic and that Samantha would have the knowledge in her soul that they’d survived since the heist. The other part of me hoped for obvious signs they were fake, so we could leave sooner rather than later. We had just shy of three weeks before people would expect us back at work.

I knelt by a rosebush, inhaling the perfume of the early blooms. Sì, I’d recovered my center and was prepared for the task ahead.

A black sedan pulled up the driveway, passing the low stone wall which surrounded the courtyard. A thin man in a gray suit exited the passenger side and waited as the driver got out.

It was a woman with short, white-blond hair. They were the FBI agents from the yacht club. What were they doing here? Did they find us so quickly?

A lead weight settled in my stomach.

Would Fiori be setting my sister’s death in motion right now?

I sprang to my feet and dashed to a side door. Intercept the FBI agents? Tell Samantha? Assure Fiori we didn’t contact them?

A guard paused in his slow pace around the end of the house. “Slow down.”

“Sì, will do!” I tore the door open and dashed down the hall, coming to an abrupt halt when Fiori descended the last step of the grand central staircase.

“Antonio, perfect timing. We have some guests I suspect would like to speak with you.”

Bodyguard One glowered at me from behind Fiori. Baptiste was nowhere to be seen. If the FBI were involved, that didn’t surprise me.

“I didn’t call them. I swear it.”

Fiori approached me and clapped a hand on my upper arm. “I know you wouldn’t. I trust you.” He came closer, lowering his voice. “But I also trust you remember your fiancée is upstairs. We don’t want any accidents, do we?”

“No, signore.”

He patted my arm. “Come now. It’s Pasquale. We’re friends.”

We walked into the foyer and toward the adjoining library. Why were they here? What was I going to say?Calm yourself, Tony. You know how to handle this.

Fiori entered the room first.

Jason stood just inside the door to the library, where the agents sat on a yellow antique couch, surrounded by a show of the smuggler’s wealth. Rows of shelves crammed with leather-bound books, decorated with crystal statuettes, and a huge floor model globe which sparkled like the countries were designed in granite. A rolling library ladder rested in one corner, as though anyone actually used the books on the top shelves.

The agents stood and introduced themselves, Special Agents Kelsey Bernard and Ben Abbott, while the two bodyguards took their places by the door.

Fiori invited me to sit on a sofa opposite the agents and he sat next to me.

Special Agent Bernard leaned her elbows on her knees, a mark of open discourse. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time, Mr. Fiori, but we’re investigating a kidnapping which occurred yesterday in Detroit.”

“Detroit?” Fiori pursed his lips. “But this is New York?”

She nodded. “There’s a video that’s been circulating on the Internet showing what appears to be your helicopter taking a woman aboard it. Several witnesses claim she fought with your men before being rendered unconscious and was carried to the helicopter.”

Fiori looked at me and gestured to the agents. “Would you like to explain what happened, Dr. Ferraro?”

The weight in my stomach grew. They’d produced no warrants, didn’t mention any evidence, and there were only two of them.

“Sì, my fiancée and I were meeting with Pasquale yesterday morning about some work I’m doing for him. I’m afraid what you saw was…” I sighed, leaning into the role I was playing. “She drinks sometimes and can become agitated. We’re working through it together, but I can’t always control her.”

Agent Abbott leaned forward next. “And carrying her to the helicopter with guns drawn?”

“I don’t recall any guns.” I squared my shoulders and lifted my head, as though battling Samantha’s shame. “But she passed out. That’s all that happened. She had too much to drink.”

Agent Bernard smiled and nodded, turning to Fiori. “If you don’t mind, we’d like to speak with—Dr. Ferraro, is it?—in private.”

Fiori straightened. “Should I be asking if you have a warrant?”

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