Page 48

Instantly, I knew this wasn’t Luca. “No. He wouldn’t risk a war with us.”
I checked the photos on Gaetano’s phone. Sure enough, there was a video from the night before. I hit play and it was obvious Gaetano was in a VIP room at the club. A pair of tits filled the camera as a girl gave him a lap dance, grinding her hips in his lap. The angle swung to her face, where she smiled at him, then back to her tits. There was music pumping in the background, so I couldn’t hear what was being said, but it sounded like he called her “Terry.”
“Hey, that’s Tammy,” Michael said over my shoulder.
The three of us looked over at him. “You know her?” I asked in English.
“Sure. I’m not, like, a regular but I go with the boys every now and again. Plus, I went to school with Tammy’s younger sister.”
“Last name?”
“Bruno.”
“Do you know where she lives?” When Michael shook his head, I ordered Cesare to start searching for the girl. “But we have to deal with his body first.”
“Fuck.” Tommaso rubbed his head.
Exactly. But we couldn’t leave him here—and we couldn’t involve the police.
“Digging in the cold ground is a bitch,” Cesare said absently as he typed on his phone.
Tommaso slapped the back of Cesare’s head. “Have some respect, stronzo.”
I put my hands on my hips and stared down at my former guard. I fucking hated when my men died. This was the life we’d signed up for and we knew the risks, but that didn’t mean I was cavalier about death. Gaetano was in his late forties, acugino,a cousin to me, exactly like Cesare and Tommaso. This wasn’t unusual. The ’Ndrangheta remained a secret because we were all family—literally. We only trusted those related to us and no one ever ratted out their family.
And one of our family members had been murdered.
“What are we going to do with him?” Cesare asked in our own language.
Tommaso raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “There’s digging equipment at the winery, no?”
I instantly dismissed this. I couldn’t bury a man on Maggie’s property. “That isn’t an option. Not at the winery.” I looked at Michael. “How far away is the ocean?”
“About two hours to the coast,” he answered. “Why?”
I ignored the question and checked my watch. Fuck, it was going to be tight. And I’d need to rent a boat. “Let’s load his body in the SUV,” I said to my men. “We’ll drop Michael off and then take care of this.” In English, I asked Michael, “What time does this place open?”
“Four, I think.”
Cesare scrolled on his phone. “He’s right. And they close at two.”
I checked the video stamp on Gaetano’s video. 1:36 A.M. “We’ll come back after they open to find this woman and see if they have security footage. Let’s deal with our cugino first.”
Tommaso searched Gaetano’s pockets and found the fob for the SUV. “I’ll drive him back to the winery.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. The two men had been close. “Grazie, Tommaso.” To Michael, I said, “Open the hatch on the parked SUV, the one Gaetano was driving. It’s unlocked.”
“Why?” The confusion on Michael’s face morphed to horror and he took a step back, his palms shooting up. “Wait, you aren’t putting him inside the car, are you? You have to call the police, right? He’ll be taken to a funeral home and buried in a cemetery, right? We aren’t?—”
“Michael.” He quieted at my sharp tone. “We will handle this our way, capisce? No police, no cemetery.”
“Where are you going to bury him?”
I smothered an irritated sigh. “It’s better if you don’t know. Now, go. Do as I say, and don’t ask questions. And don’t tell a single fucking soul what you saw here today.”
“Oh, god. Oh, god. Okay.”
Michael turned and stumbled, then hurried back the way we came. Tommaso moved toward Gaetano’s feet. “He’s a good kid. We could use him in Toronto.”