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“Nick, wait,” Jonah said, before he could hang up. “I did find something interesting. I know you weren’t keen on the Mafia angle, but guess who’s back in Chicago?”
Nick rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. “Tell me you didn’t find Frankie Caruso.”
“Bing, bing, bing—you win the grand prize,” Jonah joked.
Nick could barely drudge up a smile. “Where was he spotted?”
“That’s what was so interesting. He was at a fund-raiser put together by the mayor to raise money for diabetes research.”
Diabetes research? “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, but check it out online if you need more information.”
Another coincidence. “Why does the Chicago mayor care about diabetes?”
“Because his wife was recently diagnosed with diabetes, and he thinks there should be more research into finding a cure.”
“Okay, thanks for the heads-up,” Nick said. After ending the call, he crossed over to the table and booted up the laptop.
He quickly pulled up a search engine and put in Caruso’s name along with the word fund-raiser. Sure enough, there he was standing next to the mayor and his wife.
As he stared at the elder Caruso, he couldn’t help thinking that Rachel may have been right all along. Caruso might have been the mastermind behind Joey’s kidnapping. Seeing as he was such good friends with the mayor, it could be that Caruso wasn’t happy about Rachel’s failed diabetes medication. Could be that the mayor had a bone to pick with Rachel’s company, too.
What better revenge than to kidnap her son, forcing her to sell off her shares of the company? And the added bonus? Making himself rich in the process.
TWELVE
Rachel could tell something was bothering Nick, but with Joey sitting right there, she was hesitant to ask too many questions about the investigation.
“Mom, can I work on my deer carving?” Joey asked from his favorite spot on the sofa.
“Deer carving?” she echoed with a raised brow. Nick’s sheepish expression gave him away. “You taught him to do that?” she asked.
“Um, yeah. Hope you don’t mind.”
She should mind, but oddly she was touched that he’d taken the time. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“My uncle taught me how to carve when I was about his age, and I stressed the importance of being careful with the knife.”
“All right, go ahead, Joey.” At least carving would help keep her son occupied. She crossed the room to glance over Nick’s shoulder at the computer screen. Only to be distracted by the scent of his shaving cream. It was strangely comforting and she had to fight not to put her arms around him.
Nick seemed impervious to her quandary. “Do you recognize anyone in the photograph?” he asked.
Forcing herself to concentrate, she narrowed her gaze on the photo. Suddenly, her stomach clenched with recognition. She pointed at the screen. “Frankie Caruso.”
“Yeah, with the Chicago mayor and his wife,” Nick murmured. “The mayor’s wife was recently diagnosed with diabetes, and this was a fund-raiser to support research for a cure.”
Another link to diabetes. “I’m sure Frankie is the one who hired Morales,” she said. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“Maybe.” Nick jammed his fingers through his hair. “I need to go through the entire timeline from start to finish. There has to be something we’re missing.”
“I’ll help,” she offered. Her phone rang and she pulled it out of her sweatshirt pocket, surprised to see there was still one bar of battery left. Wincing, she saw the caller was Edith. It seemed like days since she’d spoken to her assistant. “Hi, Edith, how are you?”
“I’m putting in my notice,” the woman said in a crisp tone. “You should have told me that you intended to sell off your shares of the company, Rachel. If I’d have known, I would have looked for somewhere else to work.”
The reproach in the older woman’s tone only sharpened her guilt. “I’m sorry, Edith, you’re right—I should have told you. But why are you leaving? I’m sure Gerry could use all the support he can get.”
“Gerry Ashton is not you, Rachel. Nor is he your father. I’ve been loyal to the both of you, but now that you’re both gone, I see no need to stay on.”
