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Killing the man is not a priority. I want every ounce of information he can give.
When I walk to where he’s on his knees, I ask, “What’s your name?”
“Joe.”
My voice is calm as I ask, “Who do you work for, Joe?”
He shrugs. “Whoever pays the most.”
“Who hired you for this job?”
“I never see the people who hire me.” He tips his head down, gesturing to his pocket. “We only communicate via a chat room.”
My eyes flick to Emilio, and he moves forward to dig the phone from Joe’s pocket before handing it to me.
“Password,” I order.
“One. V.”
I swipe over the screen, then lift an eyebrow at Joe.
“Second icon at the top of the screen,” he gives the information I need.
Tapping on the app, I’m taken to a black screen with numerous topics.
“Bottom right is chats,” Joe offers.
I enter the chats and tap on the top one. I read the short texts, and it confirms Joe’s just a man for hire. He was instructed to collect the pancreas and deliver it to a hospital on the other side of the city.
Letting out a sigh, I mutter, “Untie him.”
After Emilio carries out the order, Joe stands up and meets my eyes.
“Can you find out who hired you?” I ask.
When he nods, I continue, “Betray me, and I’ll kill you so fucking slow, you’ll go insane from the pain.”
I hold his phone out to him, and when he takes it, he says, “I wasn’t aware the organ belonged to one of your men. I never would’ve taken the job if I’d known that.”
“You’ll communicate with Carlo,” I inform him with ice in my voice. “You have seventy-two hours to find out who hired you.”
He nods before turning his attention to Carlo. As the men leave the room, I drop the pliers back on the table and grab my jacket. When I shrug it on, I feel my phone vibrating and pull it from my pocket.
Answering Elio’s call, I say, “What did you find out?”
“I’m on my way to the warehouse. Wait there for me.”
When I head down the steps to the lower level, I see Joe talking with Carlo.
I don’t believe in killing the messenger, especially if he can lead me to the person or group responsible. But the second I get all the information from Joe, he’s dead for the part he played in Giulio’s death.
As I wait for Elio, the entire morning replays in my mind, and I’m hit with blow after blow of debilitating grief.
He’s gone.
Giulio’s gone.
“Fuck,” I hiss from the sharp pain tearing through me.
