Page 51 of The Hunter

But who was Spencer?

I took it with me to the oversized armchair in the corner and started to read, immersing myself in the familiar story of a girl who was whisked away from the only life she’d ever known into one full of mystery and unexpected healing.

I didn’t know what I hoped to find.

Answers, maybe.

Or just the pieces Henry never intended to show me.

But I would find them.

Even if I had to read every single book in this room to do it.

Chapter Twenty

Henry

I could draw his face from memory with the amount of time I’d stared at it.

The man I killed.

The man who tried to take Ariana.

His image flickered across the monitors, looped into the facial recognition software I’d built myself. It had been scanning nonstop for two days. Still nothing. No driver’s license. No immigration record. No Interpol flags or FBI hits. Not even a whisper in the dark web forums I tracked.

He was a ghost.

And I’d never liked ghosts.

I leaned back, scrubbing a hand down my face. I’d hoped we’d have some sort of lead by now. A half-buried traffic ticket. A grainy security cam hit. But that didn’t happen. It was as if he’d never officially existed.

Without being able to identify him using even questionably legal means, I needed to look outside the box, so I grabbed my phone and scrolled through my contacts until I found the one I needed.

“Henry Fontaine,” Salvatore answered on the second ring, his voice low and deep. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I’m calling in one of my favors,” I said.

A brief silence passed over the line before he replied, “You have my attention. How can I be of service?”

“Have you heard anything out of Miami lately?”

Salvatore snorted. “Miami’s a cesspool. I avoid it like an ex-wife. Plus, it’s not exactly Italian friendly down there, from aFamiliastand point.”

“I understand. I just didn’t know if you’d heard anything in the course of…doing business.”

I wasn’t sure how else to phrase it, considering Salvatore was acapoin the Vitello family, the largest mafia organization on the east coast. His definition of doing business was vastly different from mine.

Despite that, we’d formed a sort of alliance over the years. I helped him out on occasion, knowing he would be a good person to have on my side in certain circumstances.

Like right now.

“Care to be more specific?” he pressed.

As much as I didn’t want to go into the details, Salvatore had proven to be someone I could trust. That was the odd thing about dealing with the mafia. They may have been engaged in various criminal enterprises, but honor was of the utmost importance to them.

Salvatore would never use anything I told him against me.

“Two days ago, I witnessed a man abduct…someone.”