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“You were really worried, huh?” Roman asked, running his fingers through her hair.
Angela stroked the cats, confessing, “Yes. I don’t like you doing all the dirty work. I don’t like you doing work that hurts you.”
“It doesn’t hurt me, mio angelo,” he denied.
Angela sat up, frowning at him. “Yes, it does. It must. These aren’t just random dicks on the street, Roman. It’s my parents, the people who birthed me and raised me. It’s the same for your family in New York.”
“Random dicks?” His mouth quivered, and his shoulders started to shake.
Angela hit him. “Roman! You know what I mean.” When he started to laugh outright, she couldn’t help smiling. His laughter was a beautiful sound. “I think you must be delirious from lack of sleep. How are you home so early? You must have sped.”
Roman quietened, confessing, “I did. I just wanted to be home.”
Their lips met on a sigh. But before either of them could take it any further, Luca stuck his head back in. “Get up. Breakfast is ready. And I have data to share.”
Angela sat up, shaking her hair out. She needed to brush it at the very least to make herself presentable. She wasn’t exactly a morning person. “You have data already?”
“Yep. On Wayne Hutchins. Sal told me about him, and I did a preliminary search. He’s definitely still in the city.”
Roman sat up quickly. “I only mentioned this guy’s name in passing as I walked through.”
Luca sniffed, looking haughty. “That’s why I’m the best. Now, get moving.”
Roman ended up taking a quick shower, and Angela left him to it. A naked, wet Roman was too much temptation. He emerged within ten minutes, looking fresh and alert, dressed more casually than usual in jeans and a T-shirt. She was still in his white button-up shirt and had pulled on some yoga pants. She was due at the hospital for the afternoon shift and would need to soak under the hot spray of the shower in order to feel up to it. The delicious breakfast Luca cooked helped, and by the time Roman had gone through the events of the previous evening for Sal, Abel, and Luca, Morrigan had arrived with Mario and Luigi. The dogs were kind of communal pets and rotated between Claire, Morrigan, and Abel by an unspoken agreement.
“You all caught up?” Morrigan asked, stealing a piece of bacon from Abel’s plate.
“Woman, did you just pilfer my bacon?” Abel demanded. “You like to live dangerously.”
Morrigan ignored him, munching on the crispy meat. “Luca?”
Luca grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah. We’re all caught up.” He picked up his iPad, reading over it. “Wayne Hutchins, an accountant specializing in taxes to the rich. He’s fifty-five years old and has lived in Monash his entire life. He has lots of political connections—all on the red side. He lives on the upper east side in a condo. Never married. No children. He used a teller machine just over an hour ago, one street over from his office building. I hacked into the teller’s camera. It’s definitely him.” He pushed his iPad into the center of the dining table.
Angela leaned forward, seeing a grainy image of a man in a suit on one side of the split screen. The other was a full color close-up, showing the man’s thinning, brown hair and blue eyes. He looked like just a regular man. One she didn’t recognize. “He’s not familiar to me.”
“Damn. I can’t believe we finally have something,” Abel said. He looked at Roman. “When do we move?”
“Today,” Roman stated immediately. “I don’t want this guy getting away. It looks like he’s a scout. And he’s been doing it for a long time.”
“A scout?” Angela asked.
“Hired help to identify, locate, and facilitate the acquisition of targets,” Roman explained. “It’s very common in trafficking.”
“So, what, he just goes around and finds people in debt? Then reports to the Foreman. I mean, Godfrey,” Angela amended.
“I think so. We’ll find out for sure soon,” Roman said grimly. “It’s looking like Godfrey is an opportunist. At least part of his operation is taking advantage of desperate people by offering a solution to their debt.”
Abel grunted, pushing his plate away. “Like a vulture, pecking at the scraps.”
Roman toasted him with his coffee mug. “Right.”
“It’s a good business idea,” Morrigan murmured, her gaze on Luca’s screen. She must have noticed the disapproving silence because she looked up. “Sheesh. I’m not saying I condone it. Relax. You know what I mean. On a purely business level, it works.”
“It does,” Roman admitted. “I do the same sort of thing. I also exploit the greedy, as he does. And, yes, it clearly works. He’s had a successful business going for decades. And he’s never been caught.”
“Because nobody knows who he really is,” Salvatore pointed out.
“That’s about to change.” Roman’s expression was fierce. “Let’s go get Wayne and introduce him to the penthouse suite.”
