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Not in the mood to joke around, I call my wife again, but they foundno leads, not yet. About fifteen minutes later, her cousin pulls into a garage in Brooklyn’s Williamsburg district. Done being polite, I pull the Fed out of the trunk, slam his ass on the floor, and point the barrel of my Glock at his foot.
“My kid means the world to me, and you don’t mean shit. So, if I was you, I’d start talkin’ or plan on limpin’ the rest of your life. Let’s start with the basics. Why did you shoot at me?”
“Actually, Idon’t need to tell you shit, douchebag.” Griner’s tone pisses me off. Not only that, he’s wasting my time.
“This little piggy goes to market.” I shoot the tassel off his right shoe and a urine stain appears near his fly.
“Wait. You kid’s disappearance has something to do with the Russian mob. That’s all I know. Honest.” A slight tic near his eye tells me he’s lying like a fucking rug.
“This little piggy stayed home.” A slug cuts the leather next to his toe and I point the barrel a tad to the left. “Want to go for the roast beef?”
Shaking, the man curls up in a ball. “No. Listen. Some arms dealers stole drones destined for the Ukraine and stored them at Vitale’s warehouse.”
“Why takemykid?”
“They think you were onto them.”
“And Howie?”
“He’s a thief. What the fuck do you think he did?”
“Shit.” I knew we should’ve let sleeping trees lie. “Joey? Grab this moron. All of us aregoing on a little trip to where this all began.”
Chapter 17
Sam
Sitting in St. Thomas’ school cafeteria, I set aside my laptop and ring Suds’ phone, which he picks up in two.
“Any word?” His voice sounds so hopeful, I wish I had better news.
“Not yet, but everyone is working on it. Where are you?” My nose starts to run, so I wipe it using a soggy tissue, and tamp down my tears.I need you here with me. What could be more important?
“I’m running one more errand, and then I’ll join you.” His hardened tone tells me he’s on a dangerous mission but lying to try and shield me.
Recent calls to Patten Securities have yielded nothing except for a new guy who says I should speak to my husband.
“Sebastian. He’s my son, too. Tell me what you’re up to.”
“Sugar, if I’m arrested, our babies will need one parent to take care of them. Catch up to you soon, I love you sweetheart.” After the loose cannon hangs up, I call Joey for the hundredth time, but am again forwarded to his voicemail-full message.
“Shit, shit, shit.” My mind races, my thoughts clear, and I ring Rose. “Do you know where Joey’s at?”
“No, but he left in a rush. Said something about running an errand. Any word?”
“No, put Kimmy on.” Waiting for the little girl, puzzle pieces start to fall in place.
“Hi Auntie Sammy. Did you find Mikey?” The thought of her and kids like her, traumatized for life, strengthens my resolve.
What if the gunman started shooting?“Hi sweetheart. Remember when your daddy dropped you off at the house today? Which car was he driving?”
“He was in thefancy black one. The one where I’m not allowed to touch anything, like the door handles… Was Mikey really kidnapped?”
“Yes, but we’re going to bring him home. Don’t worry, okay? Thank you honey, and you are a huge help. Put Auntie Rose back on.” While I say my goodbyes, Jason tracks down Vincent’s Lincoln.
It doesn’t take long to figure out the boys went back to the warehouse. I need to be on site, too, but our SUV is parked near home base. Scanning the school cafeteria, I spy my mom, and plead for her car keys. Soon, I’m standing in front of a chair containing a tied-up, bloodied, Special Agent Griner. The storage space around him shows holes in the dust where crates must’ve sat but recently been removed.
“Oh my God, Suds. What is going on?” Turning, I meet my husband’s steely, emotionless gaze.
