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“How so?” The commissioner returns.
“You know I only call when it’s important.” I’m not one to squander favors. Especially not with someone as honorable as Commissioner Christopher Gasso. He works with the criminal families out of obligation to the people in the city, but he still holds a high moral standard.
“Is this about Harlem?” he asks. “Last I checked, CSI didn’t find any new evidence to identify the bomber.”
“That’s not a problem. I’m pretty sure I know who was responsible.”
A pause. “Care to share this information?”
“Why? It’s not like you can use it. Not when it comes from such an ‘uncredible source’.” I grin as I use the insult the commissioner lobbed at me when we first met.
“For Christ’s sake, I’ve apologized for that already,” he huffs.
I laugh. “You’re right. You did.” It’s fun to get under the stoic man’s skin from time to time.
“So who organized the explosion?”
My smile falls. “Luis Diaz.”
Without missing a beat, Gasso asks, “Do you have any proof?”
“Nothing that would help your officers with an arrest.”
He mutters a curse. “He’s a slippery bastard.”
“I’m aware.” My nostrils flare. “He’s made threats against my fiancée.”
“Catarina Furnari?” I’m not surprised Gasso knows her identity. Most of the city does. But unlike most of the city, Gasso also knows who Catarina’s father is.
“Yes.”
“Does Salvatore know?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because Luis believes he can link me to the trafficking ring you’ve been investigating.” Years ago, Gasso and his officers were investigating a string of missing persons cases. All victims were women between the ages of fourteen and thirty, and all were from different areas of the city. But the majority of disappearances occurred in Harlem at, you guessed it, bars and clubs run by the Puerto Rican gang.
Like anyone who possessed even a modicum of common sense, he suspected Enrique Santiago’s men. But Harlem wasn’t my territory. I had no right to intervene.
Not until Enrique asked for my help, and Joseph’s cousin went missing…
Even now, over four years later, the memories of those weeks Lisa was missing haunt me.
Not because it was a direct threat to our family’s authority as leaders in this city to have one of our own in danger, but because I know what that poor girl endured at the hands of the pathetic men who abducted her.
Men, I learned, who might’ve been members of Santiago’s gang, but who answered to a different man.
Luis Diaz.
Those men paid for their crimes with their lives. It’s a small miracle we managed to find Lisa before she was shipped out of the city, but she will never be able to forget what happened to her.
Neither will Joseph.
And neither will I.
Especially not when the bastard who organized the entire enterprise still roams the streets and is now attempting to take over as the leader of the gang.
