Page 122

Santorelli had been out of the illegal drug business for years. However, that didn’t mean he hadn’t executed a favor for high paying friends or been convinced to import a shipment for an exclusive sale.

That had been one reason the regime had been targeted by the DEA. Along with the man’s heavy influence in the arms trade, his more liberal employment policy than a traditional Cosa Nostra had also drawn interest.

The very reason I’d managed to slip in through the open doors.

That and I’d provided assistance with a deal that had almost gone south. I knew drugs. I’d studied them extensively. I knew their side effects and what many of them were commonly mixed with. What hadn’t been on the menu within the Santorelli organization was the purchase or sale of Ecstasy.

It was a very personal reason that Luis had never discussed with anyone.

Except for with me.

His beloved sister, a young girl he’d been forced to raise after his father’s imprisonment and his mother’s death, had overdosed at the hands of a man on a date. It had taken Santorelli several years to hunt down the man responsible.

I’d seen the aftermath of what he’d done to the man while still working as a low-ranking agent in the DEA. That’s when I’d become fascinated by methods of torture. In turn, I’d learned everything I’d been able to about the man. Another reason I’d been selected to go undercover. I’d been familiar with how the powerful Don had worked.

That’s why the use of Ecstasy to kill him was both ironic and gave me more pause than any other drug.

Who else knew about his sister’s death?

There weren’t any pictures in the house. Luis had told me that he hadn’t been able to bear looking at a single photograph because he’d felt he’d failed her. That wasn’t the first time I’d realized he had a soft spot, a weakness.

It had been something I could have manipulated for the greater good, but I’d chosen not to. Maybe in some way the fact I’d never mentioned her again had added to the limited respect Don Santorelli had formed for a young man with limited syndicate ties.

Every scrap of information of which had been fabricated.

I’d taken Gio’s question regarding the Lupini organization having yet to be marred with a single attack under consideration. I’d made a few phone calls of my own in an attempt to assess the chatter on the street. People were talking, but not a single informant seemed the wiser. However, given what had occurred with Louis and the breach within the DEA, I couldn’t put it past the enforcement agency to pit one syndicate against the other. It was classic. The military had always used the tactic, often with great success.

On the other hand, what did I really know about Matheas Lupini? Only what I’d read in the papers and what information had been supplied by Don Santorelli. What I was certain of was that someone had betrayed us. If there was one thing I’d always been good at, it was flushing out the snakes. I’d do it again.

The afternoon light was waning, a bright patch of color splashing across the sky. There were six men surrounding the property and Drago had tightened the security at the Lupini household. My conversation with the Don had been… interesting. Not terse by any means. In fact, he’d seemed highly disturbed Don Santorelli had died.

A meeting was set for the next day. We had to maintain order. Those had been his last words.

I rubbed my eyes, the jabbering sounds of two children not only grounding me but reminding me about the dangerous game I was still playing. One slip-up and the tragedy would be unfathomable. I knew exactly what they did to traitors, including forcing the perpetrator to watch horrific acts of violence on their loved ones before their deaths.

But someone within Santorelli’s most trusted circle had killed him. That wasn’t news I wanted anyone to discover.

What I needed was to find where the Ecstasy had come from if possible.

Even with the continued doubt in Carmella’s eyes, she’d agreed with me about staying silent. It would remain our secret for now until I had a chance to flush out the murderer.

The list was long enough that it could take a little while.

The one thing I’d ask Gio to provide that wouldn’t raise red flags was the names of anyone Santorelli had either gone to see or had come to the house for a visit. He hadn’t been the kind of man to partake in typical safety precautions. He could have gone anywhere and I wouldn’t know it.

Every man within both organizations had a job to do: protect what belonged to us. They’d been instructed to use whatever force necessary to keep the peace.

What I didn’t like was that Bronco was still unaccounted for. However, Gio had insisted he’d been at the estate for almost an hour. I’d instructed men to head to his apartment. No sign of him. Neither had there been in his usual recreational joints, including a small gym catering to boxers near where he lived. His car was also MIA.

That concerned me.

So much so my men had been instructed to lock him down if found until I had a chance to speak with him. I doubted he’d appreciate the conversation very much.

Another name had already been dropped for my consideration.

Drago.

Even without knowing Santorelli had been murdered, Gio and a few others continued to grumble about the man’s attitude. At this point, I wasn’t driving anything off the table.