Ravenous (22 page)

Authors: V.K. Forrest

BOOK: Ravenous

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Liam’s phone rang, saving him from having to answer Mai. Seeing that it was Fia, he stepped outside, closing the door behind him. “Hey.”

“Two messages, Liam? You’ve really got it bad for this HF, don’t you?”

He watched Kaleigh and Corrato turn at the end of the block and start back toward him. The dog ran ahead for a second, then dropped behind them, as if on patrol, guarding them. “You said you’d call back after your meeting. What did you find out about the Riccis?”

“Donato Ricci worked for Machhione, closely, but I’m guessing you knew that since he was the object of your first inquiry.”

“What else have you got?” Liam asked.

“Actually, not a hell of a lot. Donato Ricci was picked up for questioning a few times in the eighties when the Feds were trying to nail Machhione for some murders. After the Weasel went to jail, it was Ricci’s turn to sit in the hot seat over some murders, but nothing stuck. He actually ended up going to prison for tax evasion, which is often the only way we get these guys. But it wasn’t a big case. I think he only did a couple of years.” She was quiet for a second. “But you probably knew that, too.”

“How about the diamonds Machhione stole? Was Donato ever questioned concerning the diamonds?”

“No record of them I can find.”

Liam massaged one temple. He could feel a headache coming on. “Any contact with the Feds after he got out of prison?”

“Apparently he laid pretty low after that. No record of him after the jail term. But power was shifting in Brooklyn by then. Hard to say what happened. He may have chosen to live a quieter life, or the decision could have been made for him by someone higher on the food chain.”

Liam exhaled. He didn’t know what he had been hoping to hear, but he was disappointed that Fia hadn’t learned more. He was beginning to feel like he was banging his head against a wall. “You said you had info on the
Riccis
when you called. What did you find on Corrato?”

“Nothing.”

That was good news.

“But he was questioned half a dozen times between 1985 and 1989, when his bro went to the pen,” Fia said.

Liam thought for a second. “You sure you’ve got those dates right? He and his daughter were living in Delaware by 1988. The guy had nothing to do with his brother’s business. He was an electrician, for Christ’s sake.”

“Doing electrical work for Christ or not, I’m telling you, he was interviewed. Let’s see, in New York and here in the Philly office. I suspect he had
something
to do with his brother’s shenanigans; we just never came up with enough evidence.”

Liam was genuinely shocked. Corrato involved in criminal behavior? It was possible that federal authorities might question an innocent person, but it was a lot more likely they had good reason.

She paused. “So, now you want to tell me what’s going on? I saw that Donato is recently deceased and the case is an open homicide. You aren’t trying to protect that old guy in your house from the cops, are you?”

“Corrato didn’t kill his brother, if that’s what you’re asking,” Liam snapped. He turned around and looked through the window at Mai. She was still seated on the floor, sorting a pile of books. “Sorry, Fee. I’m not angry with you. Just frustrated with the situation.” He took a deep breath. “Corrato didn’t kill his brother.”

“Okay, so what’s going on? Don’t tell me Corrato’s got the missing diamonds.” She was quiet again for a second before she went on. “I can come to Clare Point. Help you out with this.”

Liam turned back to face the street. The threesome was walking slower now; Corrato seemed to be tiring. “Are you at work now?” he asked Fia.

“It’s Saturday morning. Of course I’m at work.”

“I’ve got another name for you. Anthony Thomas Pallota. P-A-L-L-O-T-A. Can you see what you can find and call me right back? I need this as soon as possible, Fee. Please.”

“I suppose,” she conceded.

“Talk to you soon.” He hung up as Kaleigh and Corrato walked up to the shop.

“See,” Kaleigh announced. “Safe and sound. You got a DVD player?”

Liam frowned. “No.”

Kaleigh turned to Corrato, passing Prince’s leash to him. “I’ll run home and get my DVD player and the movie and be right back.” She backed away. “Mr. Ricci and I are going to watch this lame vampire movie. Want to watch it with us?”

Liam didn’t even dignify her question with an answer. He turned to Corrato. “You headed upstairs?” He held open the shop door for him.

The old man stood in indecision. “Sciatica’s acting up, but Prince needs his wee.” He glanced around. “Not much grass here. He likes the backyard better.”

Liam took one look at Corrato’s weary face and put out his hand to take the leash. “You go upstairs. I’ll take Prince around back and then be up.”

Liam and Prince walked along the side of the brick building, then around to the back, where there was still grass. He was just getting ready to carry the rat terrier up the back staircase when his cell rang. He was surprised that Fia was calling him back so quickly.

He shifted the phone from one hand to the other so he could scoop up the dog. “That didn’t take long.”

“That’s because the latest on Anthony T. Pallota, of Brooklyn, New York, is hot off the press.”

Liam halted on the bottom step, tucking the dog under his arm. “What do you mean?”

“Last night his body washed up on the shore of the East River.”

Chapter 22

L
ate in the day, when Regan appeared at the door of the shop, Liam considered sending him away. He wasn’t up to messing with the eBay stuff, but Mai was upstairs in the kitchen making dinner and Kaleigh and Corrato were having some sort of movie marathon, so he had no real excuse not to take care of business. And maybe it would take his mind off Anthony Pallota floating in the East River. Fia hadn’t had much more info to give, other than that Anthony hadn’t gone into the river voluntarily; his hands and feet were tied. His throat had been cut.

“Thanks for coming.” Liam glanced out the door, looking up and down the street. It was beginning to get dark and the temperature had dropped significantly. “You walk here from your house?”

“Yeah. Brought my camera.” He slipped a digital camera from his denim jacket. “Figured I’d just take the pictures, run the listings, and ship from here, if you don’t mind. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Works for me.” Liam could see nothing unusual on his street, but he was sure now that the Weasel, or rather his envoys, were going to come after Corrato in Clare Point. It was only a matter of when. “See anything unusual out there?”

“Annie Hill was walking her dog, wearing that pink bra of hers, the one with the tassels, over her anorak. But nothing unusual. Why?”

Liam closed the door, fighting a smile. Annie was eighty years old. Kahills rarely lived to be that old before they died and were born again, but it was up to God as to when that happened. “You didn’t see any humans?”

“The only humans I know of in Clare Point right now, buddy, are the ones you’ve got upstairs.” He pointed over his head. “Jeez, that smells delicious. Egg rolls?”

“Vietnamese spring rolls. They’re made in rice paper.”

“She cook for you like this every night?”

Liam began to pull down the old-fashioned roller shades he’d spent most of the afternoon installing on the door and windows. He was short one, but he was sure he had another box of them somewhere. The shades would give them a little protection. It wouldn’t be as easy for the Weasel’s thugs to see into the shop.

“So, just out of curiosity, why are we looking for humans?” Regan asked.

“We’re not
looking
for humans,” Liam explained grimly. “But they might be looking for us.”

“Meaning
them?
” He pointed in the direction of the second floor again.

Regan Kahill was a good-looking guy who appeared to be years younger than his thirty-something age. Before the drug problem had resurfaced, he and Fin had pretended to be college students while investigating cases for the sept. It had been a good cover and Liam liked working with them; he hoped Regan would be deemed well enough to join an investigation team again soon. Liam hoped he’d be cleared so he
could
work with Regan and Fin again.

Regan set his camera down on a cardboard box and began to help Liam close the shades. “You need some help with these humans? Because I can help. I’m clean, you know. You can even ask Fia. Or your mom. I helped her out with the arcade this past summer. We had that one dead human in the NASCAR seat, but I kept my shit together through the whole thing. Helped Fin solve the case. You heard all about that, right?” He pulled down the last shade. “Turned out this Italian vampire girl, here on vacation with her family, had flipped out and was killing humans. Kaleigh found this crazy rule about being able to make her one of us and absolve her of her crimes, so we didn’t have to execute her. Sort of. So she’s here.” He knitted his eyebrows. “Well, not
here,
here, because she’s in some kind of vampire boarding school right now trying to get acclimated to being a Kahill, but—but you heard all this, right?”

“I heard.” Liam went to the pile of boxes he’d stacked near the door. “I put descriptions of each item and the starting price in with it. You can take the pictures on that table set up over there.” He pointed toward the counter. “There’s a blue tablecloth and a white one. Use whichever works better as a background for the item. Have any questions, just holler.”

“Okie-dokie.”

Liam was seated at the desk, going over the book inventory Mai had created, when a short time later, Kaleigh came down the stairs. “Hey, Regan,” she called.

“Hey, girl.”

Kaleigh wandered over to Liam.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, looking up from the list in front of him.

“Home.” She sighed, obviously not pleased. “My mom’s flippin’ a bitch about my clothes being all over the floor of
my
bedroom, and she thought I was supposed to clean the upstairs bathroom, only it’s really Connor’s turn, but he lied and said it wasn’t.” She rolled her eyes. “The usual family drama. I tried to tell her I couldn’t come home, that I was on sept business, but she said I had to come home or she was going to ground me for, like, the next decade or something. She doesn’t respect me or my position as the wisewoman. And I really wanted to try Mai’s spring rolls. She made them with shrimp.”

“You told your mother you were on sept business?” He lifted a brow. “Since when has watching movies about teenage vampires and werewolves and eating my chips and salsa become sept business?”

“See?” She held out her hand to him. “No respect from you, either. How do you guys know if I’m on sept business or not? What if it’s
private
sept business?”

“She’s got a point,” Regan put in.

Liam glanced in his direction, then returned his attention to Kaleigh. He hadn’t realized Regan was listening to their conversation. He lowered his voice. “Look, things have heated up here—”

She plopped her hand on her hip. “Concerning . . . ?”

“Concerning business that’s none of yours. Anyway, I need you to keep an eye out for strangers in town. Humans.”

She let her hand fall from her hip. “Bad humans, I’m assuming?”

“Bad humans.” His thoughts were going a mile a minute. He could feel the whole situation with Mai and her father building toward a climax, possibly a bad one, but he didn’t know how to stop it. He’d considered sending them away and just waiting for Machhione and his crew to come for Corrato and Mai, but Liam didn’t know how far-reaching his contacts were. If he somehow found out Mai and Corrato had fled, he might reach them before Liam did. He had the same problem with just going after the Weasel and killing him himself. He wasn’t sure that would end the problem. What if there were other men working for Machhione who were willing to take up the torch if their leader fell?

“I don’t suppose Corrato said anything to you about who’s looking for him?” He watched the teen carefully, hoping maybe the old guy had confided in her and she just hadn’t said anything yet. “Or why?”

“Actually he did.” Her phone vibrated and she read the text. Then she smiled. “It’s Lia.”

“We were just talking about her,” Regan said. “How’s she doing?”

“Good.” She turned to talk to Regan across the store from them. “She hates boarding school, but she thinks if she does what she’s supposed to, she can come here over spring break.” She wrinkled her nose, turning back to Liam. “Whoever heard of boarding school for vampires? Where do we come up with this crap?”

Liam rose from his chair. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.” He waited until they were on the sidewalk, the door closed between them and Regan. He shivered in the cold. “Okay, so what did Corrato say to you?”

“It didn’t really make sense.” She started texting on her phone.

“Kaleigh, hon, this is important.” He closed his hand around her fingers, stopping her from texting. “I need to know what Corrato said to you about the guys looking for him. His and Mai’s lives could depend on it.”

With a sigh, she stuck her phone back in her hoodie. “He said he was pissed off that his brother put him in the middle of something. He didn’t say what the something was, but I assumed that what he was talking about had to do with why he was here. Brrr. It’s cold out here.” She flipped up the hood on her sweatshirt. “Mr. Ricci said he wanted to go home. That he didn’t know where the package was and he’d just tell them that when they came for it. I asked him what package, but he didn’t answer. He just said he liked the salsa he bought better than what you buy.”

“That it?” Liam asked.

“Pretty much.” She walked away and called over her shoulder. “Oh, but he did say Prince wanted to go home, too.”

Liam fought as he was pulled down into the depths of the nightmare, but he wasn’t strong enough. He never was, and soon he found himself in the cellar of the Gaudet brothers’
palais
. As he took those last steps into their private chamber, he felt the dampness of the stone walls and smelled the terror of others who had been there.

The two men were far easier to overtake than Liam had anticipated. It was over so fast, it almost seemed anticlimactic. Maybe the Gaudet brothers were too shocked to see a vampire in their cellar to defend themselves. Or maybe they had been waiting for someone like him to stop them because they could not stop themselves. He would never know.

The child handcuffed to the cot saw Liam first but didn’t make a sound. Only stared at him with round, empty eyes.

The older of the two brothers, and the larger, Anatolle, reached for a pistol on a table. Liam flew at him, intercepting the attempt, and knocked Anatolle backward with a well-placed boot to his jaw. Anatolle hit the stone floor so hard that his head bounced and he lay there dazed.

Seeing his brother knocked to the floor, Donat did what any pedophile would do; he turned and ran. Liam leaped into the air, landing on his back, and because his neck was bare, he sank his fangs into the bastard’s flesh. It was purely an instinctive reaction. The blood that gushed out was so foul that it made Liam gag.

They hit the floor and Liam rolled him over, slamming his fists into Donat’s face until the Frenchman stopped struggling. It was as Liam climbed off the unconscious Donat that he saw the nylon rope hanging from a hook in the ceiling. Gazing up, he realized that there were several of the shiny objects, all resembling meat hooks in a butcher shop.

The sight of the rope and hooks brought Liam’s rage rushing back, overflowing until he could barely think. What he did next, even in the dream, was hazy. He cut short lengths of rope with his ceremonial dagger and tied the men’s hands together. Then he found the keys to the handcuffs, released the child, and carried him to the outer room. There, he deposited him on a chair, murmuring that he would be right back for him. Then he returned to the chamber where the Gaudet brothers were both just beginning to reach consciousness again. Anatolle’s jaw appeared to be broken and Donat was bleeding from the wound in his neck.

“Que faites-vous?”
Anatolle muttered, his speech affected by the broken facial bones “What do you want of us?”

“S’il vous plaît, nous avons de l’argent.”
Donat’s eyes were glassy with fear. “We have money,” he repeated. As he spoke, he was trying to scoot backward on the floor.

Liam kept an eye on them as he cut lengths of the nylon rope, but he had no fear they would escape. They knew they would not escape. He saw it in their faces.

Donat screamed as Liam hoisted him into the air. Screamed like a little boy. Like all the little boys whose screams had gone unanswered in that fetid cellar.

Anatolle, the braver of the two, or perhaps the dumber, made no more than a grunt of pain as Liam hauled him into the air by the bindings around his hands and hung him from the meat hook.

The pain would increase by the second, though, until Anatolle would be screaming.

Still trembling with anger, Liam slipped his knife from his belt and gazed up at the men hanging before him. “Who will go first?” he asked, in French.

It was Donat’s screams that woke Liam, transporting him back to the present, back to Clare Point.

“Liam. Liam,” Mai whispered, hovering over him, pressing her palm to his cheek. “Wake up, Liam. You’re dreaming.”

His eyes flew open. He was breathing hard, his pulse racing. “Dreaming,” he panted.

“Only a dream,” she insisted. “I’m here. You’re safe here.” She snuggled beneath the quilt on his narrow bed, and lying on her side, molded her slim, naked body to his. She wrapped her arm around him. “Such terrible nightmares,” she whispered, kissing his bare shoulder. “Have you always had them?”

He let his eyes drift shut, thankful for the warmth of her body. He was sweaty, but shivering with cold. “On and off,” he answered.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why would you be sorry? They’ve nothing to do with you.”

“I’m sorry that you have to feel this awful, night after night. I’m sorry to see you suffer.”

He leaned his head back, covering her hand with his. He sensed it was very late. Nearly morning. “Will you stay?” he asked.

She kissed him again. “I’ll stay.”