Who the fuck is that?
“What’s going on?” That voice I would know anywhere—Danika. She sounds muffled, too. Her phone must be in her purse or something.
I wonder if she knows it’s still connected?
“Don’t play dumb, Ms. Eriksson. It doesn’t suit you. You know precisely why we’re here.”
The voice, I know I recognize it. I’ve heard it before, and it’s dancing around in the back of my mind, just out of reach.
I listen, straining to hear anything else, but all I get is more rustling and garbled words.
“Get your fucking hands off me!”
My hand clenches around the phone. Dani. She’s in trouble. I press “Mute” and turn on speaker phone.
I head for the front door and race across the hall to Gabe’s.
“There’s no need to be so rude, Ms. Eriksson. We’re just here to have a little chat.”
Without knocking, I open the door and find him sitting at the kitchen counter, a spoon halfway up to his mouth. “What the fuck, dude?” He raises an eyebrow and drops the spoon into his bowl.
“Danika’s in trouble.” I set my phone on the counter next to him.
“Bullshit,” she says, her rage evident even through the muffled connection, “the people you have ‘friendly chats’ with are usually never seen again.”
Her words turn my blood to ice in my veins as I finally make the connection to the voice. Matteo Cortesi—Abello’s right-hand goon.
What the fuck is she doing with him?
“Shit, Gabe, she’s with Matteo Cortesi.”
Gabe shoves his stool back and drops his bowl into the sink. “Where is she?”
“I don’t fucking know. She said she had to meet someone before she came over here, and then I called her back and I heard she was in trouble.”
“Shit, do you think Caroline would know?”
“Maybe.” I’ve been listening to Danika’s conversation with Matteo while I explain what’s happening to Gabe. So far, a reference to someone named Paul and an article are all I’ve been able to make out, nothing useful to us.
Gabe disappears down the hallway toward his bedroom and I continue to listen, my entire body screaming to get the fuck out of here and to find her.
“…he didn’t tell me anything. I don’t know anything that could hurt Mr. Abello.”
Fuck, why didn’t she tell me she was doing a story on Abello?
I would’ve warned her off, made it very clear he wasn’t someone to be fucked with.
“You really expect me to believe you don’t have anything damaging on him? Nice try, sweetheart, but Paul already confessed everything he told you. The only question now is who else you’ve told.”
“I haven’t told anyone anything…”
Gabe reemerges in black cargo pants and a tight, long-sleeve black t-shirt, his rifle case over one arm and two handguns strapped into the holster around his shoulders. His phone is pressed to his ear and he nods. “Okay, got it. Thanks, Caroline.”
“Did you find her?”
He sets the rifle case on the coffee table and unzips it, pulling out his .300 Win Mag and quickly checking it over. Gabe rarely discusses his time as Army Ranger sniper, but I know he was good enough to receive two silver stars for his service. Knowing he’s backing me up on this should ease my tension and fear, but it doesn’t, not when Danika’s life is in danger.
“Yeah, Caroline said she was going to meet a source, but she didn’t know where. I asked her if Danika had the ‘find my phone’ app. Turns out she does and Caroline was able to guess her password. The phone is down on Riverside Drive at the Olde Market building.”
“Shit, it will take us at least ten minutes to get down there.”
“Let’s go,” he says, repacking the rifle and grabbing his keys, “I’ll call the police. You keep listening so I can give them an update on what’s happening.”
Gabe drives like a Formula 1 driver, weaving around other cars, blowing past them like they’re barely moving. Danika and Matteo continue to argue about how much Paul told her and what her editor at the paper knows. She stands her ground, and despite my fear and anger at her for getting into this situation, I’m actually proud of her.
“I told you,” she replies for the tenth time. “I never told anyone about the story, and Paul never told me anything.”
“Well, we already know you’re lying about Paul, so why should I believe you about anything?” Matteo asks, his voice growing louder. The thought of that man getting closer to Danika makes my skin crawl.
I vaguely hear Gabe telling the police we are three blocks from the Olde Market.
Three blocks.
It might as well be three miles. He tears around corners at warp speed, slamming me into the door as we pull onto Riverside Drive. He stops the car several yards behind Danika’s.