“Some spot in Queens. Donofrio’s,” he says.
Lorenzo and I exchange worrying looks as we both utter, “FUCK!”
“Thanks, Rossi,” I tell him, and Jenkins ends the call.
“What’s up? What’s wrong with that restaurant?”
“That’s where my father eats with his consigliere, my uncle, my Zio,” I tell Jenkins with disappointment ripping through my body. I get on the phone to call Pop.
He doesn’t hesitate to answer the phone either. “Did you get her yet?”
“We’re on our way, Pop. When’s the last time you ate at Donofrio’s?” I ask him.
“Are you fucking serious right now, Alessandro? Your wife, my daughter, her life’s hanging in the balance, and you’re worried about some chicken marsala?”
“No, Pop, I need to know. The tip about the hitman came out of Donofrio’s.”
“Fuck, that’s gotta be wrong, Alessandro,” he says with hurt pouring through the phone. “I haven’t been back there since the heart attack. Lara won’t let me, and I’ll be honest, she scares me a bit. She’s got a screw loose, that one. Like a dog with a bone, she won’t give up on getting me healthy. I give her shit, but I fuckin’ listen.”
“Check the address yet?” I ask him.
Pop moves around on the other end of the line. “Uh, yeah, let me pull that up. Just got it back from your guy, Mike. He’s great at accounting, even better at finding shit.”
“I know, he found a bunch of shit that’s only adding up right now,” I tell him.
“This is fucked, Alessandro. It’s Oscar’s building, but that doesn’t make sense. Why?” my Pop asks. I can hear the crack in his voice as it dawns on my father how much shit we’ve been through the past few weeks at the hands of my uncle.
“We’re here,” Jenkins says.
“I gotta go, Pop.”
“Yeah, do that. I’m going to run some errands.” He hangs up, and while I want to warn him, or tell him to let me handle it, I don’t have time to stop him.
“Okay, fellas, let’s go get my wife out of there.”
Jenkins is smart enough to park a few blocks away from the warehouse where Evelyn’s being held. It’s probably under surveillance because of its proximity to the water, but by whom is anybody's guess.
Lorenzo uses his military training to lead the charge toward the warehouse. We’re able to use one of his drones to look at the roof and into a window that shows us what we’re up against.
“It’s just him and Evelyn inside. He’s got a table with a knife set, and right now, it looks like she’s cursing him out.
Mio dolce.
That’s when it hits me. “Alice Andrew.”
“What?” Jenkins whispers.
“That’s what the asshole called me. Alice Andrew, but there’s only been one guy to ever call me that. It’s him. It can’t be, but there’s no one else. That voice, the enjoyment of his insanity. It’s him, but he’s supposed to be dead.”
Lorenzo sets his drone and its controller down before grabbing me by the shoulders. “Brother, you’re a lot older now. Let’s make sure he’s dead this time around.”
Jenkins moves around the building, finding its outdoor fire alarm. He purposely sets off the blaring ringing that lets the kidnapper know he’s been found. Lorenzo pops the locks, and we move inside swiftly.
We circle around a few stacks of crates, coming to the opening in the center of the room where the maniac is holding a knife at Evelyn’s throat.
“How are you still alive?” I ask, guns pointed at the man responsible for the nightmares that plague me to this day.
“Well, after you broke my jaw and sliced my throat open…” He pulls his shirt down to show me a jagged scar across his neck. “See? Yeah, blood buddies.”