Chapter 2 - NOBODY LEAVES PALAZZO NERO
Z
“Nobody leaves.”
Marco Keane did not shout the order.
He didn’t have to.
Within seconds, the front doors of Palazzo Nero were locked.
That caused exactly the kind of panic Claire expected.
A woman in diamonds demanded to speak to her attorney.
A hedge-fund manager announced that he knew the mayor.
Someone near the bar began filming until one of Marco’s men calmly lowered the phone with two fingers.
Rosario looked as though he might suffer a medical event.
Claire hardly noticed any of it.
She was thinking about Lily.
“My daughter is with my neighbor.”
Marco glanced at her.
“How old?”
“Four.”
His expression shifted almost imperceptibly.
“Address?”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No offense, but twenty minutes ago I was pouring your wine. Now your car is on fire and armed men are locking the restaurant. You’re not getting my daughter’s address.”
Vincent, the silver-haired man, looked at Marco as if waiting for Claire to be corrected.
Instead Marco said, “Good.”
Claire blinked.
“Good?”
“You shouldn’t give your daughter’s location to a man you barely know.”
“You’re taking this surprisingly well.”
“You warned me about a bomb. I’m inclined to tolerate a little suspicion.”
Vincent returned from the entrance.
“Driver’s alive. He stepped away to take a call. Explosion was wired to the ignition, but something malfunctioned during a remote test.”
Claire’s stomach turned.
Marco’s gaze went toward the kitchen.
“The two men?”
“One left through the service corridor approximately ninety seconds before the explosion. We caught the other in the alley.”
A new stillness settled over Marco.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Keep him that way.”
Claire wished that sentence frightened her less than it did.
Police sirens approached outside.
Marco’s men moved with practiced efficiency, shifting guests away from windows while employees were gathered beside the bar.
Claire spotted Rosario whispering furiously to a chef.
Then Marco motioned toward a private dining room.
“With me.”
Claire stayed where she was.
“Why?”
“Because I need to know exactly what you heard.”
“And after that?”
“I get your daughter somewhere safe.”
“I decide where my daughter goes.”
“Yes.”
That answer threw her again.
She followed him reluctantly.
The private room smelled like polished wood and expensive cigars.
Vincent entered with another man, younger, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and the quiet expression of someone accustomed to being underestimated.
“This is Daniel Ruiz,” Marco said. “He handles security.”
Daniel nodded.
Claire crossed her arms.
“I heard two men speaking Italian. One said something about tomorrow at first. Then your car. Then when you got in, it would be finished.”
“Exact words?” Daniel asked.
Claire repeated the Italian as best she could.
Marco and Vincent exchanged a look.
“What?” Claire asked.
Vincent answered. “Their accent.”
“You noticed it too?”
Marco leaned against the table.
“Calabrian.”
Claire nodded slowly.
“My grandmother would’ve called it ugly Italian.”
Vincent almost smiled.
“My grandmother would agree.”
Daniel’s phone buzzed.
He checked it.
“The man we caught has no ID. Fingerprints are being run.”
Claire stared at them.
“This is completely insane.”
Marco looked at her.
“Yes.”
“My daughter is waiting for me.”
“Yes.”
“I’m supposed to be home before midnight.”
“That may not happen.”
She stepped toward him.
“Then you make it happen.”
Vincent’s eyebrows rose.
Marco merely studied her.
She expected anger.
Instead he asked, “Who takes care of Lily when you work?”
“My neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez.”
“Anyone else know that?”
“My manager knows I have a daughter.”
“Your ex?”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
“Gone.”
“How gone?”
“Gone as in he decided fatherhood interfered with whatever he imagined his life was supposed to be.”
“Name?”
“Why?”
“Because someone tried to kill me tonight, and the woman who stopped them is now part of the investigation whether either of us likes it.”
She hated that he was right.
“Evan Ross.”
Daniel’s head came up.
Claire noticed.
“What?”
Daniel looked at Marco.
Marco straightened.
“What?” Claire repeated.
Daniel turned his phone around.
A photograph appeared on the screen.
The face was older.
Thinner.
The hair was shorter.
But Claire recognized him immediately.
Her knees nearly gave out.
Evan.
The man who had held Lily once in the hospital.
The man who had kissed Claire’s forehead and promised he would learn how to be a father.
The man who vanished six weeks later.
The photograph showed him wearing a suit beside a black SUV.
Beneath it was a surveillance timestamp from three months earlier.
Claire grabbed the edge of the table.
“No.”
Marco’s voice became low.
“You said he disappeared four years ago.”
“He did.”
“This picture was taken in Queens in July.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
She looked at Daniel.
“Where did you get that?”
“Internal surveillance.”
“Surveillance of what?”
Daniel didn’t answer.
Marco did.
“One of my warehouses.”
Claire felt suddenly cold.
“You know Evan?”
“I know the people he was meeting.”
“Who?”
Marco hesitated.
It was the first time she had seen him hesitate.
“Men connected to an organization that has been trying to move against me for the last year.”
Claire stared at Evan’s photograph.
Four years.
Four years of birthdays.
Fevers.
Rent notices.
Preschool concerts.
Four years in which Lily had asked why everyone else had a father in their family pictures.
Evan had not been lost.
He had not been dead.
He had been in New York.
And somehow he had been orbiting the same world that had just blown up Marco Keane’s car.
Claire’s anger arrived before her fear.
“Find him.”
Marco watched her.
“Claire—”
“You have security. Cameras. People who apparently know everything except how to keep a sedan from exploding.”
Vincent coughed into his fist.
She pointed at Evan’s picture.
“Find him.”
Marco’s expression hardened.
“I intend to.”
A knock sounded.
Daniel opened the door.
One of the guards leaned inside and said something quietly.
Marco’s eyes changed.
“What is it?” Claire asked.
The guard looked at her, then at Marco.
“The man from the alley finally gave us a name.”
“Whose?”
The guard swallowed.
“Claire Bennett’s.”
Nobody spoke.
Claire felt the room tilt beneath her.
Marco moved first.
He came around the table and stopped directly in front of her.
“What did he say?”
The guard looked at Claire.
“He said the waitress wasn’t supposed to hear them.”
Claire’s breath caught.
Then came the rest.
“He said they were told if she did…”
Marco’s voice dropped.
“Finish it.”
May you like
The guard did.
“Kill her before midnight.”
