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“And he’s been looking to get back at Orso ever since?” I ask.
It seems the reasonable thing to do. Why else would he start his own family if not for revenge?
Andrea shrugs.
“So you think the Bianchis are after Agent Chandler?” I ask next.
Andrea nods.
Well, Orso sent me to kill her because he thinks she’s a threat. It’s probable Sergio Bianchi thought the same thing. He sent his own killer to take out Allie, and like me, he didn’t succeed.
“What are you going to do now?” Andrea asks me.
I shrug. “Find the Bianchis. You wouldn’t be able to help me with that, would you?”
He scratches his chin. “Well, I do know a place you might want to look into.”
~
Andrea’s place turns out to be an old apartment building, one that looks like it hasn’t been occupied in years. It looks like it’s been left to rot, in fact. The paint has peeled off. The windows are on the verge of falling off their hinges. The knobs on the front doors have come off. There’s a chain keeping it closed, but it’s too loose to keep anyone out. The floor is coated in dust. Insects, dead and alive, litter the stairs. I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw larger creatures here, too – bats, squirrels… hell, who knows, maybe even wolves and bears. But the Bianchi family?
One thing I’ve learned about mafiosi is that they have a great deal of pride and they love luxury. Plus they can be paranoid, so they like locks on their doors. I just can’t see someone like that living in a hovel like this.
Still, Andrea pointed me here, so this place must have some connection to the Bianchis. I might as well find out what it is.
At the third floor, I stop because I hear a rustle from one of the rooms. I walk down the corridor, careful not to make a sound. I stop just outside the door of the room where I still hear the sound, then I take a peek inside.
No people. Just mice. Yup, this place would make an ideal castle for them, too.
Just then, I hear another noise. A cough, this time, from upstairs.
My pulse quickens. I draw a deep breath as my body prepares for battle.
Animals don’t cough.
I draw my gun and head upstairs. Slowly. Quietly. I don’t know how many of them are hiding here, so it’s better to have the element of surprise. Besides, I’m in no rush.
As I creep down the hall, I hear more noises – paper rustling, wood creaking, footsteps. The Bianchis are here, alright. I can tell exactly what room they’re in.
I pause outside that room and then push the door open with a swift kick. The hinges creak. Papers fall to the floor. I hear a sound between a gasp and a cry as I see a pair of hands go up in the air. It’s the reaction I was expecting, but not the person I expected to get it from.
Allie. She’s the only person in this room. In a grey bomber jacket and faded jeans this time, and a shirt that nearly matches the color of her eyes. Those eyes were wide at first, but they narrow as she recognizes me. Her full lips curve into a pout.
Great. No Bianchis. Once again, I come looking for someone and find Allie instead.
I put away my gun and let out a breath. Allie puts down her hands.
“What are you doing here?” she asks me, her tone laced with both wonder and dismay.
I could ask her the same thing. I’m just as disappointed as she is.
“For God’s sake, Cain, have you been following me?”
“No.”
She shakes her head. “What? You just magically show up where I am?”
I wouldn’t say magically. Surprisingly maybe, though I had a feeling I would see her again. Just not here.
“I wasn’t following you,” I tell her. “I’m here because my investigation led me here. You?”
Allie sighs. “Same.”
My eyebrows furrow. She’s looking for Sergio, too? She’s figured out he’s the one who sent a killer after her? That was quick.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She kneels on the floor to pick up one of the fallen sheets of paper, frowning when she sees the dust on it. “I have work to do.”
I help her gather the rest. I recognize one of them as a phone bill. The name on it piques my attention.
Michel Bianchi.
“The Bianchis lived here?” I ask Allie.
She grabs the papers from my hand. “If you think I’m going to share my findings with you and aid in your investigation, forget it. I – ”
“Work alone,” I finish the sentence for her. “You made that clear the first time.”
I look around.
“And you weren’t lying. I don’t see anyone else here.” I give her a look of disappointment. “Really? You nearly died and you’re still here by yourself?”
