At Peace
Page 167
“That bitch knows Vi has a situation, f**k, the whole town knows, and Vi’s jumpin’ into cars wearin’ nothin’ but a tee and she didn’t say shit until I knocked on her goddamned door over an hour after Vi was taken,” Eric continued, his voice vibrating and Colt knew Eric had similar thoughts in his head about Tina.
Colt bit his lip then he asked, “She see Cal?”
“Nope, but she reports a black truck was behind the caddy.”
“Cal’s truck is in his office lot,” Colt informed Eric.
“She says it wasn’t his truck. An SUV. Escalade.”
“She get plates?”
“Said she wasn’t payin’ that much attention.”
Colt knew that was a lie. She was paying attention just not to the license plates.
“Highway Patrol been notified?” Colt asked.
“Yeah,” Eric replied.
“What about Lindy?”
“She’s not home. Her man says she works seven to four.”
“She was at the office,” Colt whispered.
“She was at the office,” Eric repeated.
“Pryor says Hart’s MO is not to mess around. Go for the kill,” Colt noted.
“He may have done him in the SUV but he didn’t do him at the offices. Blood’s from the boys Cal took out,” Eric remarked.
Colt called it down. “Been to Cal’s offices. Lindy sits out front. Cal has an office in the back, doesn’t use it much, but he’s got it. They went in, Cal put up a fight but they got to her and somehow managed to use Lindy as leverage. This meant they’ve probably got Lindy and Cal. They got his phone, called Vi from it while sittin’ in front of her house. She knew, the call comin’ from his phone, bad shit had gone down and she didn’t think, husband dead, brother dead, she just acted and she did it hungover and fast, doin’ exactly what she was told.”
Eric rocked back on his heels and said quietly, “Yep, reckon so.”
Colt looked over his shoulder at Vi’s house. Feb was in there and now so was Cheryl. He looked to the street, saw Jessie’s car pull up to the curb in front of Vi’s house. Then he looked down the street to see Josie Judd’s Jeep heading toward the house.
“Let’s hope he goes off script,” Colt muttered as Jessie exited her car, threw the door too and half-walked, half-ran to the house.
“I’m already hopin’,” Eric muttered back.
* * * * *
“God dammit,” Benny muttered when the cars he was following separated. The black caddy Benny knew was carrying Violet went one way. The black SUV Benny guessed was carrying Cal went the opposite way.
Benny made a decision and followed Cal. If his cousin was still alive, they got him to where they wanted him to be, he wouldn’t stay that way much longer. Violet had a better chance.
Benny made the turn and his eyes went to his rearview mirror.
Frankie was shit at a tail. He’d clocked her outside Chicago when he’d left at four that morning.
Benny had made the decision to drive down to Cal’s ‘burg when repeated calls went unanswered. He had no choice. It was a hell of a drive but Cal needed to be warned.
Frankie had been following at his high speed for the last seven f**king hours, all the way down through Indiana and, once there, seeing what he saw, then all the way back up. He had to spend half of his time keeping himself invisible and half of his time making sure she was the same way.
He watched her leave him and follow the caddy.
“Fuck!” he exploded, tagged his phone on the seat beside him, scrolled down to her number which he’d meant to erase about seven dozen times in the last seven years but he’d not only not done it, he’d programmed her new numbers in the three times she got them.
He was okay with her on his ass and he left her to it. She went it alone, that he was not okay with.
He hit go and she answered, “Hello?”
“Stand down, Frankie,” he growled.
“He’s got the woman. You’re on Cal, I’m on her,” she said, her voice calm.
Jesus, he forgot this about her. Francesca was a f**kin’ nut. Nothing scared her, not before life got scary. Attitude mixed with idiot fearlessness and a whole lot of not knowing what the hell she’s doing. Not a good combination. Christ.
“Stand… the f**k… down,” he repeated.
“Benny, I won’t do anything. I’ll call Sal, he’ll send –”
He cut her off. “You get the location, you call Sal, you get the f**k outta there.”
“I’ll just stay, keep an eye out,” she replied.
“You’ll get the f**k outta there,” he was again f**king repeating himself.
“I’ll hang tight and they won’t see me,” she said.
“Woman, you have no idea what you’re doin’. I know you’ve been on my ass since the turnpike.”
She was quiet then she said, “Oh well,” then she stopped speaking.
“Oh well?” Benny asked, wondering if it was possible for his head actually to explode and thinking if it was he was close.
“Ben –”
“They’re stupid enough to let you know their location, you feed it to Sal and you get the f**k outta there.”
“Ben –”
“I got things on my mind, babe, and I don’t need you bein’ one of them.”
She was quiet again then she said, “He’s not gettin’ another one of us.”
Fuck. Now he knew where her head was at. This was about Vinnie. This was about Cal. This was about Frankie being family even though that family turned their back on her.
“Frankie –”
“He’s taken enough from us.”
Benny’s voice went soft. “Francesca, honey –”
“You don’t do anything stupid. You call backup too.”
“Babe –” he said to no one. She’d disconnected.
Fucking hell.
He scrolled down to Sal’s number in his phone and he hit go.
* * * * *
“You think you mighta wanted to tell me this shit when you saw the woman climb into that car?” Sal asked Benny who was on his phone.
“You made this mess. Do you think I was fired up to call you in to clean it up?” Benny asked back.
Fuck, but only Benito Bianchi would speak to him that way. Even Cal had respect. Benny played the game before his brother bought it, since then he didn’t give a f**k.
The f**king Bianchis. Always a pain in his f**king ass.
Colt bit his lip then he asked, “She see Cal?”
“Nope, but she reports a black truck was behind the caddy.”
“Cal’s truck is in his office lot,” Colt informed Eric.
“She says it wasn’t his truck. An SUV. Escalade.”
“She get plates?”
“Said she wasn’t payin’ that much attention.”
Colt knew that was a lie. She was paying attention just not to the license plates.
“Highway Patrol been notified?” Colt asked.
“Yeah,” Eric replied.
“What about Lindy?”
“She’s not home. Her man says she works seven to four.”
“She was at the office,” Colt whispered.
“She was at the office,” Eric repeated.
“Pryor says Hart’s MO is not to mess around. Go for the kill,” Colt noted.
“He may have done him in the SUV but he didn’t do him at the offices. Blood’s from the boys Cal took out,” Eric remarked.
Colt called it down. “Been to Cal’s offices. Lindy sits out front. Cal has an office in the back, doesn’t use it much, but he’s got it. They went in, Cal put up a fight but they got to her and somehow managed to use Lindy as leverage. This meant they’ve probably got Lindy and Cal. They got his phone, called Vi from it while sittin’ in front of her house. She knew, the call comin’ from his phone, bad shit had gone down and she didn’t think, husband dead, brother dead, she just acted and she did it hungover and fast, doin’ exactly what she was told.”
Eric rocked back on his heels and said quietly, “Yep, reckon so.”
Colt looked over his shoulder at Vi’s house. Feb was in there and now so was Cheryl. He looked to the street, saw Jessie’s car pull up to the curb in front of Vi’s house. Then he looked down the street to see Josie Judd’s Jeep heading toward the house.
“Let’s hope he goes off script,” Colt muttered as Jessie exited her car, threw the door too and half-walked, half-ran to the house.
“I’m already hopin’,” Eric muttered back.
* * * * *
“God dammit,” Benny muttered when the cars he was following separated. The black caddy Benny knew was carrying Violet went one way. The black SUV Benny guessed was carrying Cal went the opposite way.
Benny made a decision and followed Cal. If his cousin was still alive, they got him to where they wanted him to be, he wouldn’t stay that way much longer. Violet had a better chance.
Benny made the turn and his eyes went to his rearview mirror.
Frankie was shit at a tail. He’d clocked her outside Chicago when he’d left at four that morning.
Benny had made the decision to drive down to Cal’s ‘burg when repeated calls went unanswered. He had no choice. It was a hell of a drive but Cal needed to be warned.
Frankie had been following at his high speed for the last seven f**king hours, all the way down through Indiana and, once there, seeing what he saw, then all the way back up. He had to spend half of his time keeping himself invisible and half of his time making sure she was the same way.
He watched her leave him and follow the caddy.
“Fuck!” he exploded, tagged his phone on the seat beside him, scrolled down to her number which he’d meant to erase about seven dozen times in the last seven years but he’d not only not done it, he’d programmed her new numbers in the three times she got them.
He was okay with her on his ass and he left her to it. She went it alone, that he was not okay with.
He hit go and she answered, “Hello?”
“Stand down, Frankie,” he growled.
“He’s got the woman. You’re on Cal, I’m on her,” she said, her voice calm.
Jesus, he forgot this about her. Francesca was a f**kin’ nut. Nothing scared her, not before life got scary. Attitude mixed with idiot fearlessness and a whole lot of not knowing what the hell she’s doing. Not a good combination. Christ.
“Stand… the f**k… down,” he repeated.
“Benny, I won’t do anything. I’ll call Sal, he’ll send –”
He cut her off. “You get the location, you call Sal, you get the f**k outta there.”
“I’ll just stay, keep an eye out,” she replied.
“You’ll get the f**k outta there,” he was again f**king repeating himself.
“I’ll hang tight and they won’t see me,” she said.
“Woman, you have no idea what you’re doin’. I know you’ve been on my ass since the turnpike.”
She was quiet then she said, “Oh well,” then she stopped speaking.
“Oh well?” Benny asked, wondering if it was possible for his head actually to explode and thinking if it was he was close.
“Ben –”
“They’re stupid enough to let you know their location, you feed it to Sal and you get the f**k outta there.”
“Ben –”
“I got things on my mind, babe, and I don’t need you bein’ one of them.”
She was quiet again then she said, “He’s not gettin’ another one of us.”
Fuck. Now he knew where her head was at. This was about Vinnie. This was about Cal. This was about Frankie being family even though that family turned their back on her.
“Frankie –”
“He’s taken enough from us.”
Benny’s voice went soft. “Francesca, honey –”
“You don’t do anything stupid. You call backup too.”
“Babe –” he said to no one. She’d disconnected.
Fucking hell.
He scrolled down to Sal’s number in his phone and he hit go.
* * * * *
“You think you mighta wanted to tell me this shit when you saw the woman climb into that car?” Sal asked Benny who was on his phone.
“You made this mess. Do you think I was fired up to call you in to clean it up?” Benny asked back.
Fuck, but only Benito Bianchi would speak to him that way. Even Cal had respect. Benny played the game before his brother bought it, since then he didn’t give a f**k.
The f**king Bianchis. Always a pain in his f**king ass.
