Page 43 of Ms. Fortune

I’m reminded of our conversation at the gate of Mischief Motors. “Can you locate her phone?” He can do anything, right?

“Theoretically, yes. If the phone is on and has location services enabled, but the legality of doing that....”

“Good. Do that. Keep me updated.”

We disconnect, and I feel only slightly better now that I know what’s happening, even if it’s very little. Something is better than nothing.

I update Normandy on her mother’s empty house during lunch, and the news seems to increase her anxiety and not lessen it like I hoped it would. Before I can tell her anything else that Taylor and I discussed, her phone rings, and the screen shows the name ‘Frank Santangelo.’ She’s about to deny the call, but I grab her arm to stop her before she can.

“I’m calling Taylor on my phone. Answer that on speaker once I have him on the line.”

“What? What’s going on?”

I don’t have time to answer and just hold up a finger for her. Taylor answers after one ring.

“Stand by, Taylor,” I say quickly, setting my phone on the table near hers, and nod for her to answer. Chelsie stares at us with wide eyes, clearly confused by everything happening.

Normandy shakes her head at me like I’m crazy but answers the call.

“Hello?” She’s trying to sound confident, but the nerves are leaking through.

There’s a slight hesitation, and then a deep voice asks, “Is this Normandy Blake?”

“Yes, and I’m not alone, just an FYI.”

“I know. You and your sister are with Brandon Carmichael in New York.”

Her eyes snap up to mine, fear jolting through her.

“Where is my mother? What have you done with her? I swear to God if you’ve harmed her….”

“Your mother is currently in Lake Tahoe in a very swanky safe house.”

Well, that confirms Taylor’s suspicion. This guy must be government of some kind.

Before Normandy can ask anything else, I jump in.

“What exactly is she being kept safe from, Mr. Santangelo? And who are you with?”

“I’m pretty sure you know who we’re keeping her safe from, and technically I’m with the FBI.”

That sounds sketchy to me. “What do you mean, ‘technically’?”

“It’s a Special Operations Division focusing on transnational organized crime.”

“Louie Calnetta is involved in transnational organized crime?” Not that I know a damned thing about this guy’s division or organized crime, but seriously, Louie feels more like a petty criminal, all things considered. “He doesn’t seem like that big of a fish.”

“Oh, he’s not a big fish, but he’s on the same line, so to speak, of the fishes we want.”

“So, what do you want with Normandy?”

“Are you her keeper? Or can I actually talk to her?” The irritation is understandable since I just jumped into the conversation, but I still don’t appreciate it.

“I’m still here.” Normandy is hesitant, anxiety written all over her face, and when her eyes meet mine, I see total fear.

“Ms. Blake, a situation involving you has arisen, and I’d like to set up an in-person meeting to discuss cooperation, if possible.”

Her terror intensifies. “What kind of situation?” Now she’s looking between Chelsie and me as if we have the answers somehow. I wish to God that I did.

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