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I pull onto the road Officer Jenkins said Matteo is waiting for me. It’s on the outskirts of town, an area we don’t have any business in, that I’m aware of. The road is dark, no flashing lights from police cars or an ambulance.
I pick up my phone to call Officer Jenkins back to find out what hospital they took Matteo to after all. But then I see two cop cars on the side of the road. I have a tingling sensation that something is off, but I ignore it as paranoia left over from the search of my office the other day.
I park my car and step out, my eyes darting around nervously. "Officer Jenkins?" I call out.
One of the car doors opens and an officer approaches me.
“Hello.”
The voice stops me. He draws near enough that I can see who he is. Dickhead. I start walking backward to my car.
“Miss me?” His leer makes my stomach pitch.
I’ve just walked into a trap. A trap that Elio and Matteo must have fallen for as well.
My heart pounds in my chest as I turn to run back to my car. But it's too late. His hand grabs my arm and jerks me around.
“Resisting arrest is against the law.” He pushes me against the car, this time cuffing me without grinding his dick against me. Maybe this is supposed to look like a legit arrest in his body cam.
“You have no reason to arrest me.” God, why didn’t I call Henry? “Where is Matteo? Elio?”
He laughs. “I have no idea.” He tugs me back toward his car. I wonder who is in the other car? I have a flash that it could be Henry… but no. He wouldn’t.
“Officer Jenkins, I don’t know what you think I’ve done?—”
“It’s Officer Rogers, sweet cheeks.”
“Like I said, I haven’t done anything.”
“Shut your pretty mouth unless you plan to use it on my cock.”
I shudder. Clearly, there is no body camera. The police took Lazaro. They probably have Elio and Matteo. And now they have me. But they don’t seem interested in justice. At least not one found in the court system.
As Officer Rogers pushes me into his car, I realize that I’m probably about to die.
28
HENRY
Ilean back in my chair, rubbing my tired eyes as I stare at my notes. The implications of what I've uncovered so far are staggering, and potentially career-ending if I'm not careful.
My gut tells me Peter is behind the anonymous calls, using his father's old number. It's a rookie mistake, one I wouldn't expect from him. But grief and anger can make people sloppy. The question is, how deep does this go? Are other cops involved in Lazaro's disappearance? And if so, how many?
I pick up a file, flipping through the pages I've read a hundred times already. I need more. Suspicions aren't enough. I need hard evidence before I can even think about taking this to my superior or the DA. Making accusations against fellow officers without ironclad proof is a surefire way to tank my career.
I glance at my watch, realizing how late it's gotten. The precinct is nearly empty, most of the day shift having gone home hours ago. I'd promised to see Lana tonight, but this case has me in its grip. I can't walk away, not when I'm so close to unraveling the truth.
With a heavy sigh, I reach for my phone. She deserves an explanation, and I need to warn her about staying safe.The phone rings once, twice, three times. No answer. My first instinct is that something is wrong. I push it away. Her family is surrounded by armed men. Then again, she’s often moving around without a guard.
I frown, trying her phone again. Still nothing. "Come on, Lana. Pick up."
After the third attempt goes straight to voicemail, an uneasy feeling settles in my gut. She could be mad at me for something I’m not aware of, but she’d more likely tell me off than ignore me. Maybe she’s busy or her phone died. Or she's in a place with bad reception. I run through a dozen harmless scenarios, but none of them sit right.
The foreboding grows stronger with each passing minute. Something's wrong. I can feel it in my bones, in my soul.
I grab my jacket, keys already in hand. I need to find her, make sure she's safe. I grip the steering wheel tightly as I speed toward the D'Amato estate. I’m hoping against hope that I’m being paranoid, but the gnawing fear in my gut tells me I’m not.
As I drive, I'm acutely aware of how reckless it is for me to show up at a crime family's doorstep, especially as a cop. But the thought of Lana hurt or worse overrides any sense of self-preservation. I’ll risk everything, my career, my reputation to save her. And then there's Elio. If he's there, how the hell am I going to explain my presence? “Sorry to barge in, but I'm in love with your sister and I'm worried about her.” Yeah, that'll go over well.
