Page 93 of Love on the Line

Chapter 33

Wyatt drove to work,still on a high since Anne had accepted his proposal last week. He’d sweated it out, and God knew the day hadn’t gone as planned, but in the end, the woman he loved now wore a diamond on her finger. He never thought any piece of jewelry could mean more than his Super Bowl ring. Wrong. So much had changed since he’d met her. She’d opened his eyes to what he’d been missing.

His phone rang with John’s ringtone. “What’s up?”

“Hey. It may be nothing, but we might have found one of the guys who attacked you and Anne.”

Wyatt’s heart jumped. “How? Who?”

“A body turned up in the river,” John said. “The dude must have really pissed someone off because he was missing a hand and half an ear.”

“Holy shit.” Talk about gruesome. “I guess that stuff happens in the city with gangs and all, but what’s the connection to us?”

“I’ll explain in a sec. The river rat’s name was Louie Capello. Ring any bells?”

“No, never heard of him.” Wyatt stopped at a light.

“I did some checking around with the locals after I found out where he lived.”

“I’m listening.”

“Didn’t get any names, but it turns out he has some buddies who are regulars at Jerry’s. It’s a local bar in Baltimore. Never been in the place, but I know of it.”

When the light turned green, Wyatt hit the gas pedal. “Okay.”

“Word on the street is they’re for-hire hands, almost any job. One of them matches your description with the tattoos and bandana. That got me thinking. Maybe Capello and his friends were your attackers. Might be a dead end, because lots of bikers dress like that, but I’m checking every possible lead.”

An image of the guy dragging Anne into the alley flashed in Wyatt’s head, and his stomach tossed. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “So, what now?”

“I’ll send you a picture of Capello. Tell me if you recognize him. They’re running a DNA test against the sample they took from under Anne’s nails.”

“I didn’t know they did that.” God, anyone could have done anything to her while Wyatt was lying there like a helpless sack-of-shit. His chest burned, and he ground his teeth together.

“Don’t blame yourself. You were knocked out. If it’s a match, we have one of them, but he won’t be talking.”

“Yeah, too bad.” Wyatt parked in the high school lot.

“It’s Friday. Bet they’ll show up at Jerry’s tonight. How about meeting me at ten, and you can keep an eye out for anyone you recognize from the alley?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Okay. The bar is in a tough part of town. Dress to fit in, and lock your car.”

“Got it. I’ll leave the ascot at home.”

“Just bring your ass.” John hung up.

When the picture message came, Wyatt tapped the screen. The muscles in his neck went rigid. That was the guy, all right.

He typed a quick note back to John.

* * *

Wyatt’s phone dinged as he parallel parked on the street near Jerry’s.

A text from John. Stay put. Need to talk before we go in.

Cutting the engine, Wyatt waited. Maybe a change in plans? Could be anything.

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