This shit cut to the bone beyond Sal surviving last night’s bloodbath. It wasn’t Sal who screwed the pooch but it was his responsibility that his man missed. This was on him and he felt it.
“What I hear, Hart doesn’t fuck around. He finds his mark, the bullet goes into the brain,” Vinnie noted, he hated saying it, hated even thinking it but that was what he knew.
“He won’t get Cal,” Sal remarked.
“He does –”
“He won’t.”
The two men stared at each other and then Sal’s eyes went over Vinnie’s shoulder.
“You get Cal?” Sal asked and Vinnie turned to see one of Sal’s soldiers standing just outside the house.
“No, but the cops are on the phone,” his boy answered.
“Talked to the cops last night. Today got things to do. You call Indianapolis like I asked? Get someone down there to move in?” Sal pressed and the boy’s face stayed solid. He was locked tight too.
Vinnie knew why when he spoke. “They’re steerin’ clear. It’s all over the radio. Joe Callahan and his woman are both missin’. Cops in some ‘burg fifteen miles west of Indy are on the hunt. Two boys shot at Callahan’s offices. Chicago PD preliminary identification from pictures puts them in Hart’s army.”
Vinnie’s ass came off the chair. He didn’t stand but he also wasn’t sitting.
“Vi’s girls?” he asked and the soldier’s eyes came to him.
“What?”
“Cal’s woman’s daughters. They safe?” Vinnie explained.
“Haven’t heard anything about them,” the man answered.
“Find out and tell the cops to go fuck themselves,” Sal ordered and the man looked at his boss.
“They want a meet. They want cooperation. Feds are in town and they got news for you. They say they think this meet could be mutually beneficial,” the soldier said to Sal.
This was news, such news it was shocking. The Chicago PD and Feds sitting down with family to make mutually beneficial deals? In this mess, that was a ray of light. Theresa, if she knew about it, which she fucking didn’t, would call it a miracle.
Vinnie forced himself to sit down and he forced his voice to a whisper when he demanded, “Take the meet.”
Sal didn’t take his eyes from his boy and his face betrayed nothing.
“Sal, take the fuckin’ meet,” Vinnie kept whispering, “this is about Cal.”
“Tell them we meet here,” Sal ordered his man.
“Tina reports she saw Vi get into a black Cadillac sometime after eight o’clock. She said Vi was wearin’ nothing but a t-shirt. No shoes. She just ran out of the house, caddy was on the street, the door was thrown open, she got in and the car took off,” Eric told Colt and Colt studiously kept his eyes from going to Tina’s house. If they went to Tina’s house, he might feel the need to walk over there and shake her until her fucking teeth rattled.
“That bitch knows Vi has a situation, fuck, the whole town knows, and Vi’s jumpin’ into cars wearin’ nothin’ but a tee and she didn’t say shit until I knocked on her goddamned door over an hour after Vi was taken,” Eric continued, his voice vibrating and Colt knew Eric had similar thoughts in his head about Tina.
Colt bit his lip then he asked, “She see Cal?”
“Nope, but she reports a black truck was behind the caddy.”
“Cal’s truck is in his office lot,” Colt informed Eric.
“She says it wasn’t his truck. An SUV. Escalade.”
“She get plates?”
“Said she wasn’t payin’ that much attention.”
Colt knew that was a lie. She was paying attention just not to the license plates.
“Highway Patrol been notified?” Colt asked.
“Yeah,” Eric replied.
“What about Lindy?”
“She’s not home. Her man says she works seven to four.”
“She was at the office,” Colt whispered.
“She was at the office,” Eric repeated.
“Pryor says Hart’s MO is not to mess around. Go for the kill,” Colt noted.
“He may have done him in the SUV but he didn’t do him at the offices. Blood’s from the boys Cal took out,” Eric remarked.
Colt called it down. “Been to Cal’s offices. Lindy sits out front. Cal has an office in the back, doesn’t use it much, but he’s got it. They went in, Cal put up a fight but they got to her and somehow managed to use Lindy as leverage. This meant they’ve probably got Lindy and Cal. They got his phone, called Vi from it while sittin’ in front of her house. She knew, the call comin’ from his phone, bad shit had gone down and she didn’t think, husband dead, brother dead, she just acted and she did it hungover and fast, doin’ exactly what she was told.”
Eric rocked back on his heels and said quietly, “Yep, reckon so.”
Colt looked over his shoulder at Vi’s house. Feb was in there and now so was Cheryl. He looked to the street, saw Jessie’s car pull up to the curb in front of Vi’s house. Then he looked down the street to see Josie Judd’s Jeep heading toward the house.
“Let’s hope he goes off script,” Colt muttered as Jessie exited her car, threw the door too and half-walked, half-ran to the house.
“I’m already hopin’,” Eric muttered back.
“God dammit,” Benny muttered when the cars he was following separated. The black caddy Benny knew was carrying Violet went one way. The black SUV Benny guessed was carrying Cal went the opposite way.
Benny made a decision and followed Cal. If his cousin was still alive, they got him to where they wanted him to be, he wouldn’t stay that way much longer. Violet had a better chance.
Benny made the turn and his eyes went to his rearview mirror.
Frankie was shit at a tail. He’d clocked her outside Chicago when he’d left at four that morning.
Benny had made the decision to drive down to Cal’s ‘burg when repeated calls went unanswered. He had no choice. It was a hell of a drive but Cal needed to be warned.
Frankie had been following at his high speed for the last seven fucking hours, all the way down through Indiana and, once there, seeing what he saw, then all the way back up. He had to spend half of his time keeping himself invisible and half of his time making sure she was the same way.
He watched her leave him and follow the caddy.
“Fuck!” he exploded, tagged his phone on the seat beside him, scrolled down to her number which he’d meant to erase about seven dozen times in the last seven years but he’d not only not done it, he’d programmed her new numbers in the three times she got them.
He was okay with her on his ass and he left her to it. She went it alone, that he was not okay with.
He hit go and she answered, “Hello?”
“Stand down, Frankie,” he growled.
“He’s got the woman. You’re on Cal, I’m on her,” she said, her voice calm.
Jesus, he forgot this about her. Francesca was a fuckin’ nut. Nothing scared her, not before life got scary. Attitude mixed with idiot fearlessness and a whole lot of not knowing what the hell she’s doing. Not a good combination. Christ.
“Stand… the fuck… down,” he repeated.
“Benny, I won’t do anything. I’ll call Sal, he’ll send –”
He cut her off. “You get the location, you call Sal, you get the fuck outta there.”
“I’ll just stay, keep an eye out,” she replied.
“You’ll get the fuck outta there,” he was again fucking repeating himself.
“I’ll hang tight and they won’t see me,” she said.
“Woman, you have no idea what you’re doin’. I know you’ve been on my ass since the turnpike.”
She was quiet then she said, “Oh well,” then she stopped speaking.