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“She got away.”
“She? It was a woman?” Her brows lift, and I detect a hint of pride in her tone. Pointing the tip of her pen at me, she asks, “Did she do this to you?”
Ignoring the question, I ask her one of my own. “Do you have any leads?”
“The investigation just started.”
I want to tell her this started the day Giuseppe Tadesco was killed. But I keep my mouth shut because she’s not on our payroll. So instead, I watch the crime scene investigators take photo after photo of the truck, the restaurant, and Bob’s remains.
“I’d like you both to come to the station with us,” she says. “You can have the medics take a look at your wounds first, if you wish.” She indicates the ambulance parked on the perimeter of the yellow tape.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“Suit yourself.”
* * *
After two hours of an interrogation that feels more like an inquisition, we’re released. I call two cabs, one for my uncle to be taken to his house and the other to drive me back to the pizzeria.
As we wait at the curb, he digs a finger into my chest. “No more coming out on your own, Luca. You must assign a guard. Whoever this bitch is, she’s going to come after you again. Take my word on that.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him it wasn’t my motorcycle that was bombed, even though I was parked close by. It was his Land Rover. But having him fear for his life more than he already does is pointless.
The moment his taxi arrives and I send him on his way, I call Gunn.
When he doesn’t answer, I leave him a message. “Fucker, tell me you’re alive.”
Any worry that he might have been taken out by that female is put to rest when I arrive at the restaurant to find him leaning against his bike. Though she obviously didn’t kill him, he didn’t make it out unscathed.
Bruises and scrapes cover the majority of his face. His left eye is practically swollen shut, and his knuckles are as bloody as mine were.
“She fucked you up” is my greeting to him. “Please tell me you have her tied up inside.”
“Nope.”
I sigh. “She walked away.”
“More like limped away. Unfortunately, I was seeing double by that point and wasn’t sure which one was the real girl. She slipped right through my fingers.”
“What happened?”
“Well…” He tugs a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and lights one. Then he takes a deep puff and exhales. “I followed her about a mile up. Almost lost her. My bike is fast, but hers is something else. And she can ride that thing.” Another puff. “But I managed to get a shot into her back tire, and she crashed into some trees. You’d think that would’ve stop her, but she kept going.”
“Then?” I encourage him to continue.
“I chased her on foot into the woods. She was bleeding but moving fast. When she stumbled, I lunged.” He smiles, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
“What’s so amusing?”
“Nothing. I’ve just never seen anything like it. Never fought anyone like her. I… I liked it.”
“Gunn, she fucked you up,” I remind him.
He shrugs. “I fucked her up too.”
“But she got away,” I state.
“This time. Now I know how she fights.”
