Bellissimo Fortuna (Beautiful Fortune) (19 page)

“We’re missing something, he has to have property somewhere else.”

“Something is buried, I know it. We’re missing something and I don’t know how. We’ve gone over every tax record, set up tapes, spent resources, and everything has dried up.” I know part of that is my fault. I lost sight of the end game and no judge is giving us carte blanche on an agency hunch. They can only give us so much wiggle room before things get shady. Locati knew this from years of experience and he played me like a fucking fiddle . . . using his daughter as the bow.

Chapter 22

A year. An entire fucking year and I still have jack shit. Nursing a beer over my mom’s latest meal, I’m still frustrated as hell. We’ve busted a few small time dealers, intercepted some product, but can’t get anyone to roll over on the family. I can’t find any trace of where Callie is, it’s like she vanished and I’m praying she is still alive. I think I would know if she weren’t, he would want me to know, to suffer. I don’t have any connections to the family anymore, those resources were either cut loose or they’re so low on the totem pole and not fully trusted they aren’t any help. Bianca is in town for her birthday and she keeps giving me dirty looks because she came solo and I brought Dakota. Along with my date, whom she hates. Amy is beautiful in her own way. She’s sexy and she knows it, uses it to her advantage. Amy is the cousin of Marco and thinks she’s using me. I don’t know what her motive is for pursuing me but I allow her to think I fell into her trap. She’s working her way up to asking more detailed questions, still playing the part of the girl-next-door, moved-away-after-a-bad-breakup-needing-a-fresh-start, has-no-family-shy-girl. She almost pulled it off, but I trust no one. That and the fact she has a three-bedroom condo on the beach, new Mercedes, enough plastic surgery to fill a landmine, and is an entry-level secretary at an accounting firm. Not such a great cover story.

She wants to get dirty, playing with pigs, pimping herself out like a whore . . . that’s what I allow her to be. I fuck her, but the only thing she gets is my dick and my lies. Frank Locati must think I’m a fucking idiot and fallen for his ploy. That will make the day that much sweeter when I take him down. I head to the kitchen to refill my drink and Bianca is right on my heels, “Why did you bring her?”

“My girlfriend?” I don’t share this case with anyone but Dakota. It’s too dangerous for them to be involved.

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes. “If that’s what you’re calling them these days.”

Her loyalty to Callie bothers me. I’m her brother; I’m not the one who abandoned this family. “Why do you still do this? She’s gone. She left. She chose this and yet, like a lap dog, you still pant for her to come back.”

“She’s still my best friend. My sister.” I hate that I’m making her cry. “Did you ever think she didn’t have a choice? Before you give me your normal ‘everyone has a choice’ bullshit, remember how she grew up; yes, she had us but she wasn’t us. Even if she did have a choice, that doesn’t shut my love for her off. The years of friendship, the lifetime of memories I built with her. I’m not wired like you, and I don’t want to forget her. You can think what you want of me, weak or gullible, but that’s not it. What I had with her is irreplaceable, and I fully believe she didn’t do anything
to
me, but I choose to believe she did whatever it was
for
me. For all of us, and if she comes back one day you can bet your ass I will be there with open arms because the love that girl has, I won’t miss out on it. You make your own decisions, your own mistakes, but don’t sit here and dictate how I handle my own pain, or my choices.”

Her breath is coming in pants, thoroughly pissed off at me. I don’t blame her. “You’re right. I don’t know the whole story, because she didn’t trust me with it. It’s hard to balance that. She gave me her heart, her love, her body . . . but in the end it didn’t matter because she didn’t give me her trust when it mattered.”

“God, would you listen to yourself? Poor, pitiful Bronson. Yes, we lost our dad, but she never had one. She gave you more than her trust; she gave you everything. EVERY-FUCKING-THING. You were her north, south, east, and west. She wouldn’t have disappeared if she had a choice, she would have never left you if she had a choice. When you pushed her away, ignored her, and pretty much blamed her the months after dad . . . where was she? Right next to you, letting you do what you needed to do but never did she give up on you. You are the stupidest, smart person I know. Your head is so far up your ass and I can’t wait for you to pull it out so I have my brother back. Oh, and don’t bring that bitch to my birthday celebration or anything with me again.” She has never spoken to me like that. I have had her sympathy, her love, her support, never and her anger.

I hear the laughter behind me. “Her tongue’s like a knife. I can tell by your face this is the first time you’ve dared to piss her off like this.”

“Dude, by your laughter I can tell you’ve been on the receiving end of that sword more than once. How did I miss that all these years?”

“You never dared to upset Callie, so you didn’t upset Bianca. They were your life, and you wouldn’t do anything to damage that.”

“Damn, she scares me.”

“That was mild. Oh, by the way, Amy got an important phone call and had to leave,” he grins at me. “You know that secretary position must keep her busy the way she rushed out of here.” I laugh, knowing her uncle summoned her, for whatever reason. Probably clients to please. His phone rings, and he stares at the screen for a second before leaving the kitchen. Hope that isn’t a booty call because I don’t think Bianca’s blood pressure can take any more tonight.

I go back to the dining room, and she’s all smiles and sweetness talking to my mom. I want to apologize, but Dakota comes barreling in the door. “Let’s go; I’ll drive.”

“What’s going on?” I discreetly ask.

“Tip. We may have a new property to look at.”

“Solid information?”

“Yep.”

“Which informant flipped?”

“None.”

“What are you hiding?” He is fidgeting and answering me in one-word answers. Usually this would be enough to make him jump for joy.

“It’s classified.”

“What the fuck?”

“I’d rather not say where this came from.”

“Is it legal? Can we use it to gain a warrant?”

Hesitating, “We probably shouldn’t use their name.”

“If it’s bogus I don’t want to go on a wild goose chase and if the person’s a rat, they can deal with their own demise. I’m tired of protecting these fuckers.”

“It’s Callie.” He deadpans.

I’m speechless. Did he just say what I think he said? How the fuck did he talk to her? How long? “Explain.”

“You talked to Callie?” How did Bianca overhear. She’s such a sneak.

“Listen, I have no clue where she is. She called and gave me a name. We need to get on it.”

“How many other times?”

“Once, the day I kicked your ass in gear months ago.”

Bianca turns her fury back on me. “Told you. For months you’ve hardened yourself, closed off your heart to her, and I told you she wouldn’t do this. Here’s your proof. If she was so hell bent on saving her dad then why call him and provide information?” Then she turns on Dakota and his eyes widen in fear. “Why is she calling you?”

“I don’t think she could handle talking to either of you. To raw. The pain and I think she’s afraid she’d cave. I don’t know any more than I’ve told you.” He quickly adds, “I promise,” and after looking at Bianca’s face I know why he wanted to clarify that. She’s mad that he didn’t tell us before. I understand but I’m still confused.

“Let’s go.” I kiss Bianca on the head. “You can kill him later.” I shoot her a wink.

“He can bet on it,” she sing songs.

“Right here! I can hear every word.” Dakota reminds us.

After getting in the car, he starts, “Listen, I don’t know why she chose me, but she did. She didn’t give me any more than she told you, maybe less. I haven’t spoken to her in months, and she called tonight with an alias her dad might have been using for some properties.”

“What name?”

“It’s written down. Said it was what he was going to name his son.”

Once we get to my office, we look up tax records and property addresses. Holy shit, he has a phantom son. His sick and demented mind never ceases to make my stomach churn and my head spin. He has created an entire life for this child. One that was never born, but one he wished for. Tax records, bank accounts, but no birth record . . . Thank God. This fake persona he longed for, tortured Callie over, is all a figment of his imagination that he has warped into some kind of reality for him. It explains some of his issues, but never excuses the heinous things he’s done. A special place in hell is reserved for him, and the day he goes there will be a day of celebration in my life. He ripped everything away from me.

Best news, the property is a warehouse with water access in the next town over, and we’ve missed it all this time. Both of us make phone calls to our trusted contacts, trying to get the warrants and surveillance on the down low. We can’t afford to have our cover blown.

Chapter 23

Six months of wiretaps, surveillance, and waiting for this moment. I’m putting on my vest, and forcing myself not to pinch my arm to make sure this isn’t a dream. We’ve had enough information for a few months to take this warehouse down, but we waited. We staked it out daily in the hopes of catching Frank Locati here. We needed him here, no deniability, and there would be no way he was getting out of this. He rarely made mistakes, but coming to check out the product was his down fall today.

“By the books,” Dakota reminds me.

“Strictly,” I reiterate. No screw-ups, no personal feelings, no emotions in this bust. My superiors were worried and tried pulling me from the case, but I proved myself. After all, it was my
ex
-fiancé who gave us the information to get as far as we did. Ironic that the daughter he tried to destroy is the one who will be responsible for his demise.

I have so many questions going in to this. What happens after? Will my feelings and emotions even out? Is this really justice? Will Callie come home? The last one is the most prominent, but I shake it off. I need all my wits about me for this take down. It’s my first actual raid, and I’m high on adrenaline. Our squad leader hollers over us, “Everyone vested up?” We give him the affirmative. “You all know your sectors?” More affirmatives. “You all ready?”

“Hell yes,” we affirm.

“Let’s go, men.” We split up and enter the warehouse as planned. Dakota and I are on separate teams, and I salute him before filing in behind my men. I’m not familiar with this warehouse or these docks, but after months of studying the plans, I’m comfortable. It’s a lot like the old ones I hung out in and many of the buildings along the waterfront mimic the same blueprints. Granted, we took provisions for any alterations he may have made, so we’re hyper aware. Not even three steps in, and all hell breaks loose. Gunfire rings out and bodies run everywhere. These men weren’t going down easily. We knew that. They were loyal to a fault. They would protect their leader at all costs. That was the mentality brainwashed into them. I tried to watch my team’s back and study the flurry of movement to see which way they were headed. The majority would head in one direction, drawing us towards them while Locati would scurry the other way with a few men. It was an age-old mob tactic, and it worked well. I had insider information, and they knew that, so I tried to think like them. Would they go with the tried and true method? No, Frank was smarter than that.

Each team followed a different group of men, engaging in firepower with them. Our goal was not to kill. We wanted to make it out with as many unscathed as we could, but they would give their life if they needed. We had the element of surprise and protection on our side. As the men scrambled, chased and arrested I huddled back waiting on him to make his move. I would prove to be a worthy adversary. As the sounds get further and further away, he appears, and I am waiting.

He raises his gun and takes aim. “Drop your weapon, Locati. It’s over.” I’m not smug, but I have been waiting to say those words.

He chuckles. “Ah, the son avenges the father. Took you long enough.” He’s taunting me, trying a tactic to distract me, but I keep my gun steady, aimed for a kill shot. He knows I won’t hesitate.

“Drop the weapon. I won’t repeat myself.” Then he turns and runs. I never expected that and am only a few seconds behind him. I can’t engage in gunfire with him while he’s fleeing, but I sure as hell won’t lose him. “Stop!”

He keeps running, down hallways, making sharp turns, taking me deeper and deeper in the warehouse. I don’t have time to be scared, I’m going in blind, but regardless I am going in to win. He miscalculated his escape somewhere because we’re now approaching a dead end and there’s nowhere to go. I stop pursuit and brace myself with my gun raised.

Slowly, he turns around and drops his gun. He’s calm and a bit sure of himself. “Never thought I’d see the day Frank Agosto’s son was a DEA. That’s worse than a rat in our books.”

His words won’t deter me. “Nope. Not a rat. You severed all family ties when you killed my father. I was born into this, not made into it. Turn around and place your hands above your head. Drop to your knees.”