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“Just one,” he said.

“I’m not lecturing you on a bottle and a half of whiskey,” I said.

“But at least I’m putting something in my body. Now eat,” he said.

I took small bites of the bacon, wishing I could toss it out onto the porch instead.

Every time Daniel fell silent, we called out his name. Waiting for him to make a sound before one of us went to check on him. He was playing quietly on the floor of the television room with The Jungle Book on in the background. Eventually, he fell asleep with Sydney’s blanket wrapped around him and his head on a pillow on the floor.

“He misses her,” Kevin said.

“I know. He slept in her bed last night,” I said.

“Where are the fucking police?” he asked. “Shouldn’t they have something by now?”

And, like clockwork, there came a knock at the door.

Kevin sprinted to the front door and yanked it open to find the Chief of Police standing there. I was behind him, peeking around his mountainous form as Daniel slept on the floor in the adjacent room. I stood in the doorway while Kevin stepped out onto the porch, and I could see the determination in the man’s eyes.

“You found something, didn’t you?” I asked.

“I have a few questions. Just answer them to the best of your ability,” the chief said.

“I can do that. What’s going on?” Kevin asked.

“Mr. Spencer, is this your first trip with your children to the Caribbean?”

“It is. Why?” he asked.

“Ma’am, have you ever met his children up until this point?” he asked me.

“No. I haven’t. Where is this leading?” I asked.

“Just bear with me. Are you familiar with Gianni Russo’s business tactics?”

“I know they aren’t always trustworthy,” Kevin said.

“We looked into Gianni’s business and it’s apparently going under. But you knew that, didn’t you?”

“Yes. When he approached me wanting to strike up a business deal, I found out,” Kevin said.

“One hundred million dollars happens to be the exact amount of m

oney Gianni Russo needs to get his company out of the red,” the chief said. “I mean, down to the dime.”

“So, he is the one who took my daughter,” Kevin said.

I could see the anger fill his eyes as his hands clenched at his sides.

“All circumstantial evidence points that way, yes. We identified the man in the picture as well. Are you familiar with a man by the name of Jonathan Chiani?” the chief asked.

I watched Kevin narrow his eyes as realization washed over his face.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Kevin said.

“What?” I asked. “What is it?”

“The man you identified in the picture, ma’am. His name is Jonathan Chiani. Better known as Johnny Eightball. He’s a mob enforcer.”

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