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Cheryl was finally at peace.
“What will happen to Gianni?” Senator Cain asked.
Gary’s breathing hitched. “Thank you for reminding me.” He glanced at Dan. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
Dan stilled. “Yes, we do.” He clasped the senator’s hand. “You’ll have to excuse us, Senator. We have a plane to meet.”
This was one flight arrival he didnotwant to miss.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Saturday, August 4, 2018
12:45 p.m.
LOGAN AIRPORT’STerminal C had been heaving as they arrived, a sea of passengers armed with heavy suitcases and roll-ons, children clutching toys, parents looking haggard, business travelers with laptop bags….
Gary checked his phone. Gianni’s flight had just landed and was taxiing toward its gate. He and Dan stood at the huge window, watching as the plane crawled closer. Behind them were two uniformed police officers.
“He’s definitely on this flight?” Dan asked.
Gary nodded. “I checked with Chicago.” The plane came to a dead stop, and the air bridge moved into position. “Okay, showtime.”
They walked past the waiting passengers to the open doors. Gary flashed his badge to the gate agents, then took a step back. It wasn’t long before the first passengers appeared, some strolling, others almost running, undoubtedly trying to make their connections. Gary spotted Gianni, and he stilled.
“He isn’t alone.”
Gianni was smiling as he walked, casually dressed in jeans and a black shirt open at the collar, in conversation with his fellow passenger.
“Who’s with him?” Dan peered past Gary. “Isn’t that Paul’s lawyer, Aaron Stillwater?”
Gary didn’t reply. He blocked Gianni’s way, holding his badge aloft. “Gianni DiFanetti?”
Gianni came to a halt, his smile fading. “Yes? What do you want?”
Bruno had been correct—he and Gianni didn’t resemble one another in the slightest.
But damn, he looks like Paul.
“You’re under arrest for the murders of Cheryl Somers, James Sebring, and Kevin Donaldson.” Gary paused. “And for the theft of thirteen works of art from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum.”
Gianni’s mouth opened, but then he snapped it shut. A bored expression stole over his face as Gary Mirandized him. He glanced at Aaron Stillwater, rolling his eyes as if he found the process entertaining. When Gary was through, Gianni flashed Stillwater a grin.
“Over to you, I think.”
Stillwater coughed. “Well, I must be on my way. Excuse me, gentlemen.”
“What the fuck?” Gianni grabbed his arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“To my office. I have a meeting with a client.”
“And what am I?”
Stillwater arched his eyebrows. “Paul DiFanetti’s nephew—andhe’smy client. I don’t represent you.”
“Fine.” Gianni snarled. “I don’t need you. Luke Martin’stwicethe attorney you’ll ever be.” He turned to Gary. “And that’s all you’re gonna hear from me until I get to talk to Luke.” He smiled, his expression smug.
One of the officers held out a pair of cuffs, and Gianni, still wearing that same smile, stood there as they were fastened around his wrists. Then the officers led him along the concourse, Gary and Dan following, past passengers who stared, pointed, and whispered.
