Chapter 489 He’s In The Bathroom
Luca had leveraged heavily on Voss’s obsession with him. The detective did not just want Tony safe. He wanted Luca caught. He wanted a story that ended with Luciano Genovese finally in cuffs and Voss standing close enough to taste victory.
That kind of hunger made men predictable.
Luca watched Voss stop pacing, look once toward the precinct doors, then toward the parking lot.
The decision was forming. Voss would not send another officer. He would not wait for confirmation. He would want to be there himself, to catch Luca in the act, to put his hands on the collar of the devil and drag him down in front of everyone.
That wasn’t going to happen until Tony was in the ground.
He knew his actions over the past few days would put a strain on the famiglia. That was inevitable. He was done with waiting for everyone to be ready while his enemies cut him down brick by brick.
No more.
The Vitales would respond. Bianca’s death would bruise. The Bastiones would hit back almost immediately too.
But that was an Italy problem. Right now, his priority was keeping his immediate family safe. His wife had done her part beautifully.
Tony would tell him who was doing Bianca’s dirty job. He had to. All of this had too many fingerprints. Someone was threading the needle, and Tony was the loose end still breathing.
Tony would tell him who it was, and that would be the end of whosoever it is.
Luca glanced at his rearview mirror and found the same car. Three vehicles back, dark sedan. It had been behind him since he arrived in New York, keeping just enough space. He sighed.
It was nice to know his father had his six, but he didn’t know what orders had been given. Protection? Observation? Intervention?
In the meantime, Luca was going to keep pretending he hadn’t made the idiot five minutes after the tail began.
He kept his eyes trained on Voss once more. For a while, nothing happened. For a bit, he thought the man wouldn’t take the bait.
Maybe Voss would surprise him.
Then Voss got into his car. Luca’s mouth curved.
“Predictable he muttered, and started his engine.
Anyway, he couldn’t blame the man. They all had their obsessions. Voss’s obsession was wanting to be the man who finally put Luciano Genovese in cuffs. Luca respected it.
His own obsession drove past him moments later without noticing him. He almost followed her. Every instinct in him wanted to abandon the plan, trail her all the way back to the mansion, make sure she got home safely, make sure the whole damn world knew Mrs Genovese was not to be touched.
He forced himself to stay still until she passed. She could handle herself now. His pizza girl had grown and God help anyone who didn’t fear her.
Voss pulled out into traffic, and Luca followed at a careful distance.
Tony was stuffing his face with pizza when the door burst open. The safe house was a dull apartment above a closed laundromat. A half-empty soda sat on the coffee table beside two greasy paper plates and a pizza box opened.
Tony froze mid-bite. Sauce clung to the corner of his mouth.
Detective Voss stormed in, one hand near his weapon, eyes scanning the room fast.
“What the hell?” Tony shouted, scrambling upright. “What’s happening p>
“Where are the men guarding you p>
Tony swallowed the food in his mouth. “He’s in the bathroom p>
Voss walked to the bathroom door and pounded on it with the side of his fist. “Hey, get out here p>
Seconds later, the toilet flushed. Voss closed his eyes briefly.
“For fuck’s sake,” he muttered.
The bathroom door opened, and the agent stepped out, still fixing his belt.
“What the hell is going on p>
“Luca has your location,” Voss barked. “You need to move him now p>
The agent’s face changed immediately. He looked past Voss to Tony, then around the apartment. His gaze swept over the covered windows. “I got no distress signal p>
“I got a reliable source.” Voss turned on Tony. “How did Bastione have your location p>
Tony blinked. “Who p>
“Renato Bastione,” he snapped. “Casino owner. Mafia. Very unpleasant family tree. Ringing any bells p>
Tony’s face had already gone pale, but somehow it managed to lose more colour. “I don’t know anyone in the Bastione famiglia p>
“Bullshit p>
“I don’t!” Tony shouted, voice cracking. “I swear, I don’t p>
Voss stared at him. It meant either Veronica Genovese had given him bad information, or she had given him exactly the information Luca wanted him to have.
“Fuck!” Voss swore.
The agent stepped forward. “Detective p>
Voss turned back to him. “I don’t know how long we have. Call it in and get him out of here p>
The agent moved fast then, crossing to the small table where his radio sat. He grabbed it, pressed the button, and spoke into it.
Nothing.
Only static.
He tried again, changing position, angling toward the window. A thin crackle answered him.
Tony stood slowly, the pizza forgotten now. “What does that mean p>
“It means shut up,” Voss said.
“No signal.” The agent said.
Voss’s blood went cold. No phone signal at the precinct. No radio signal here. Veronica’s frightened face flashed through his mind.
Goddamn it.
“He’s here,” Voss whispered. “Fuck p>
They began to hurry down the stairs. Voss led the way, gun raised, every nerve in his body pulled tight. The agent stayed close behind Tony, one hand gripping the back of his shirt. Tony stumbled between them, breathing too loudly, eyes wide.
Their footsteps slapped against the stairs. Voss kept his body between Tony and the open angles. The agent did the same, professional despite the bad start, sweeping his weapon toward every landing before they crossed it. They moved fast, but not carelessly. The safe house was compromised; the priority was extraction.
They reached the garage. Voss lifted his gun higher. A shot cracked through the air. The agent dropped hard, clutching his shoulder as his weapon skidded across the concrete.
(Brought to you by Missy Dionne 2/2)