“What the hell,” I say, putting my phone away.

  “What?” Zara asks.

  “He knew about the Toscani’s. Someone talked. We’ve got a leak somewhere.”

  “Is it a leak if it’s a federal judge?”

  “It’s a leak if anyone outside the operation knows what’s going on. Right now it’s you, me, Janice and the tac team. And that should be it.”

  “Then it’s someone on the team,” she says. “Someone with a big mouth.”

  “We’ll have to deal with that later,” I say. “C’mon, we need to get in there. I don’t want to keep Santino waiting. He’s already probably watching us, wondering what’s taking us so long.”

  We step out into the warm afternoon air, though it’s beginning to cool as the sun moves toward the horizon. I don’t have my hand on my weapon as we approach the main warehouse office door, but it’s close enough to grab it in an instant. Zara already has hers in hand, though it’s still pointed at the ground. She had prior training with a weapon when she first started with the FBI, but hasn’t used one in years. A refresher course was all she needed to qualify for field duty. I just hope it was enough if it comes to it.

  “I still don’t get it,” she whispers. “How can he have the abductor if it’s Krauss? We saw him heading home.”

  “I don’t know,” I reply. “As far as I’m aware, Santino and Krauss’s orbits don’t intersect, anywhere in this city. They shouldn’t even be aware of each other.”

  She shakes her head. “Something is off about this.”

  We reach the door and I rap on it, four times, hard. We wait a moment before a latch is thrown on the other side and the door swings open to reveal one of the large guards we saw earlier. He glances at Zara’s weapon, but it doesn’t seem to bother him this time. He’s the kind of man who looks like he wouldn’t be stopped by anything other than an elephant gun.

  “Come on. Boss is waiting.” He turns and leads us through the office, which causes Zara and I to throw nervous looks at each other. We’re taken the exact same way we came before, when we first met Santino. But now, the warehouse is dark and none of the machines are running. All the HVAC equipment sits on the factory floor, unopened and unloaded into any trucks.

  “Shut down production?” I ask.

  “Temporarily,” the man replies, which makes me wonder what could be so big to shut down one of their primary sources of income. You’d think, especially if they were going to shoot us, they would want a lot of noise to drown out the sound.

  The man finally leads us to the office section of the building, where he takes us straight to Santino Toscani’s office, near the back. A familiar coppery tang hits my nose and the back of my throat as soon as the guard opens the door to let us in. A half a second later, I see him.

  Bound to a chair halfway between the door and Santino’s desk, is a man with dark hair and a Mediterranean complexion. He hangs limp, by bound hands and feet, his face bloody and swollen. His shirt is ripped, showing off a hairy chest. And his face is so puffy, I can’t tell if his eyes are open or not.

  “Ah, Agents!” Santino says, standing from his desk. I hadn’t even noticed him there. “Thank you for coming.”

  “What the hell is this, Santino?” I ask, indicating the man. “Some kind of intimidation tactic?”

  “What?” he says, looking at me through feigned hurt. “I would never, Agent Slate. I got you what you asked for, the man who kidnapped your victim. Here he is for you, all wrapped up.” He gestures to the man. “Turns out you were right after all. One of my men was still working for my uncle. Thought it would be a good idea to take the girl in exchange for his release.”

  I exchange a skeptical look with Zara. “He’s admitted this?”

  “Oh yes,” Santino says. “Quite vociferously.” He kicks the foot of the poor man tied to the chair, producing a low moan. “Didn’t you, Federico?”

  The man moans again.

  “What did you do to him?” I ask.

  “This?” Santino says as if it’s nothing. “This was all self-defense.” I shoot him a look. “I swear. Once I realized he couldn’t account for his actions on Saturday night, we confronted him, and he became belligerent. It took three of my men to restrain him, but we finally calmed him down. We wanted to make sure he was in good shape when you arrived.”

  “You call this good shape?” I ask. “You’ve beaten him to a pulp!”

  “No, no, look, he’s fine,” Santino says. “He’ll have a fat lip and some bruised ribs come tomorrow, but there’s been no permanent damage done.”

  I put my hands on my hips, unsure what to do with this situation. This can’t be the man who took Hannah. “Did he say anything else? Like what he did with her?”

  Santino shakes his head. “Unfortunately, he’s been tight-lipped about that part. But I figure I’d let the professionals handle it. You can interrogate him yourselves.”

  “How did you find out he was unaccounted for on Saturday?” Zara asks. “You said yourself you didn’t have their social calendars.”

  Santino perches on the edge of his desk, nodding. “I did say that. But I started asking around. Most of my boys stick together on the weekends. But no one could account for ol’ Federico here. Seems he was missing at the normal gatherings.”

  “That’s not enough,” I say. “Just because he wasn’t where he normally was doesn’t mean he took Hannah.”

  “Of course not,” he says, mocking hurt again. “Do you think I’d really waste your time with something so trivial?” He kicks at Federico’s boot again. “Tell her, stronzino.”

  “I did it,” he says, his voice muffled and sounding like it’s coming through a wad of cotton.

  “Did what?” I ask.

  “I took the Judge’s daughter.”

  I crouch down, trying to get a good look at his face. The problem is it’s so screwed up there’s no way I can tell if he’s telling the truth or if he’s just been coerced. For what reason, I don’t know. “Where is she, Federico? What did you do with her?”

  He shakes his head once, which clearly causes him pain. I look up at Santino. His face seems like a mixture between pleasure and loathing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it before. And I can’t tell if it’s directed at me, or at Federico.

  “You better tell her, Federico. Marco’s not gonna protect you in prison. You know that, right?”

  Federico looks up for the first time, his swollen eyes meeting mine. They’re full of pain, like he just wants to die. A few bruised ribs my ass. This man has been beaten within an inch of his life. We need to get him to a hospital before he flatlines on us.

  “Zara, call in the paramedics. We need to get him transported out of here,” I say. I stand back up, facing Santino. “You know this is unacceptable. When I asked you to find out if any of your men had anything to do with this, I didn’t mean for you to bring your own version of vigilante justice down on them.”

  Santino stares at me, a gleam in his eye. “What can I say? It was self-defense, Agent Slate.”

  “That’s bullshit and we both know it,” I reply.

  Santino gestures to the other men in the room. “You can ask anyone here. We have plenty of witnesses.”

  “I’m sure you do,” I reply.

  “Paramedics are two minutes away,” Zara says.

  I motion for the door. “Show them how to get back here.” She heads back to the front, while the man who escorted us in follows her. I’m no longer concerned Santino is going to do something as stupid as trying to jump us. He obviously has a different objective here.

  “What are you playing at, Santino?” I ask.

  He shoots me a noncommittal look then rounds his desk and takes a seat. Federico moans again. “I have no idea what you mean, Agent Slate.”

  I know I can’t trust the man. But I also can’t ignore this bombshell he’s dropped in my lap. That’s the problem with this job, there’s always a certain level of uncertainty. We never had any solid evidence on Krauss, only my hunch and the information from Ryde 4 Lyfe that just happened to line up with a theory. This is something completely different. This man has confessed to the crime, to my face. I have to face the possibility I’ve been chasing the wrong person this entire time and Judge Stewart had been correct all along.

  Moments later Zara comes rushing back in the room with two paramedics who are wheeling a gurney. All of us work to free Federico from the chair and get him on the ground before they hoist him up on the gurney, strapping him in and giving him oxygen and fluids. They have him back out of the office in less than three minutes.

  I stare down at the chair he was tied to, blood stains on the carpet underneath.

  “Ambulance was close,” Santino says. “I certainly hope that wasn’t because you thought I might hurt you or your partner.”

  I shoot him a look. “I guess it was just one of those lucky coincidences.” Nothing about this whole situation feels right to me. It’s like someone has thrown a stick in the spokes of my bike and launched me off into the underbrush. Where I was cool, collected and sure of myself before, now I don’t know what to think.

  “Keep me up to date on the rest of your investigation,” Santino says. “I’d love to know how it turns out.”

  “Sorry,” I say. “We don’t talk about active cases with the public.” I turn and head for the door, Zara right in front of me.

  “Oh, and Agent Slate,” Santino calls, just as I reach the door. I turn back to him. “I hope this little favor isn’t forgotten in the future. We always like to help out our friends at the FBI, whenever we can.”

  So that’s his game. The fact that I walked right into it makes me want to throw up. Instead, I do everything in my power to not let him see he’s gotten under my skin. Instead, I leave him there, a wicked smile plastered across his face.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “It’s a conundrum, I agree,” Janice says.

  Zara and I are sitting in her office, having just come from the hospital where we watched as Federico went into emergency surgery to survive all the damage Santino’s men inflicted on him. From what I understand, he’s going to need his jaw wired shut. Which means answering questions about Hannah is going to prove difficult, for at least a few days. Time we don’t have.

  “They literally broke his jaw. This is all just a ruse from Santino. He’s betting Hannah is already dead and gone, and if he can put up one of his men as a patsy, then he’ll have given the FBI a golden egg that we just can’t ignore.”

  She taps the end of her pen on her desk, glaring, not at me or Zara, but at the wall behind us. Deep in thought. “But you heard the man admit to taking her,” Janice says.

  “He was barely conscious and in no condition to answer questions,” I reply. “He would have told you he was from Mars if you’d asked him.” I stand up, pacing the room. “Plus, Santino probably primed him, telling him only to give us nuggets of information. Just enough that we couldn’t use any of it. And all the while, Hannah is still out there somewhere. Not to mention these other women who he conveniently didn’t mention.”

  “Of which you still have no evidence that connects any of them,” Janice says. “We can’t ignore the implications of this. We’ll need to interview this Federico as soon as he’s out of surgery.” She holds up a hand before I can argue. “I get it. And I agree with you. But if the Director hears that we have a confessed abductor in custody and we’re still chasing down other leads, he’ll pitch a fit. Especially considering this has to do with the Judge’s daughter.”

  I shake my head. “It stinks, Jan. The Toscani’s are trying to play us.”

  “You think it’s this Krauss character,” Janice says. “Despite the fact he has no motive.”

  “He has a motive, we just haven’t found it yet,” I say.

  Janice purses her lips and turns to Zara. “Hell of a first week in the field, huh?”

  “It certainly isn’t what I expected,” she replies.

  “You two have been putting a lot of time in on this. Let me get another agent to interview Federico. I don’t want you burning out.”

  “I’m not—” I stop myself before I get going. I don’t want her to bench us, we need to keep going after Krauss. “Can we at least keep an eye on Krauss? Until we’ve confirmed Federico is the true kidnapper?”

  I don’t like the look on Janice’s face. It’s one made of politics and making concessions, even though she knows it isn’t right. “Krauss isn’t a nobody. Because of what he’s done for some of the biggest businesses in the city, and for us as well, he’s made some powerful friends. You run the risk of making an enemy out of someone who may have nothing to do with this.”

  I blow a frustrated breath out and rub my temples.

  “I’ll assign Hogan to speak with Federico. When is he supposed to be out of surgery?”

  “Four hours,” I say, checking my watch. It’s already eight p.m. Chris is going to throw a fit after having to take care of Timber again.

  “Both of you, go home. Get some rest. Come back in the morning refreshed and we’ll decide how to proceed. We should at least have a preliminary statement from Federico by then.” She pauses. “I’m not usually an optimistic person, so I’m not going to blow a lot of smoke up your asses. The fact is, it’s been almost a week since she went missing. Odds are she’s already dead. You both worked your hearts out on this one, I know you did. But sometimes we just come up short.”

  We both head out, back to the bullpen. I can’t say meeting with her made me feel any better. I may not know Santino personally, but I know his type. And I wouldn’t put it past him to try and pull a scheme like this. Whether he thinks it will help him gain respect, that he can say he has the FBI in his pocket; or if it’s part of a larger power play, I don’t know. What I do know is we can’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth.

  “You okay?” Zara asks as we reach our desks. I pull my coat back on.

  “No. Are you?”

  “Not really. But I don’t know what else we can do about it now.” She stares at her desk for a moment. “It seems too convenient, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it does. I’ve never had someone drop something like that in my lap before. We just don’t get that lucky.”

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she asks with a mischievous grin.

  “Absolutely,” I say. “Let’s go stake out the son of a bitch. See what he does in that big house all by himself at night.”

  “Oh, wait. I meant we should go get blackout drunk and gossip about people we hate. What were you thinking?”

  I stall for a second. “I—”

  “God, you are so easy sometimes,” she says, cracking a grin. “Let me go get the equipment. What do you think? Thermals? Night vision? Long-range lenses?”

  “I hate you sometimes,” I say, though I’m smiling as I say it.

  “Yeah, you do. Anything else you can think of?”

  “Are you sure you can get all of that?” I ask.

  “Absolutely. You know Gary down in tech services? He owes me like, twenty favors. He won’t bat an eye.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you down at the car.” My heart is pumping like crazy. This is more like it. Janice doesn’t have to know we’re putting Krauss under surveillance if we do the surveillance ourselves. Plus, it just feels right. I want to nail him so bad I can taste it. Even if he already has disposed of Hannah, I’m not going to stop.

  Zara winks, then heads off down to tech services. I pull my coat all the way on and make sure my desk is clear of anything else. This is going to be a long stakeout, and I want to make sure I’m not missing anything important.

  “Still working on the case?”

  I turn to see Agent Nick Hogan, still holding what looks like the same mug of coffee I saw him with last time.

  “You ever give that stuff a rest?” I ask.

  “Nah. Keeps me awake. I just got the call from Janice. She wants me to interview your ‘suspect’.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” I tell him. “Considering the guy can’t even talk.”

  Nick shrugs, and all of a sudden, I realize there’s something different about him. He’s got that swagger about him again; the one I’m used to. I’ve never liked that swagger. It was the first thing I noticed about him when we started working together and it’s the same attitude he carried all those years he was trying to one-up me. Recently I thought things had improved, that he’d moved past this childish competition that only exists in his mind. But apparently, I was wrong.

  “He may not be able to talk, but I bet he can still write.”

  “Good luck verifying anything he tells you,” I say. “It’s not like he’s the most reliable source of information.”

  “No, you’re probably right,” he replies. “Still. We have to do our due diligence, right?”

  “We do,” I say.

  “Nice that you got the evening off. Have anything fun planned?”

  “Why, are you looking for a date?”

  He takes a long sip of coffee, eyeing me and suddenly, I feel exposed. Like he knows what Zara and I are up to. But how could he?

  “I saw you last night,” he says. “Using the system to search for that woman.”

  My heart jumps to my throat and I feel like I’m about to be sick. What? How could he have seen me? The entire place was empty. Then I remember the spoon in the kitchen area. I look down at the mug in his hand. He doesn’t like his coffee black. Instead, it’s more of a light beige. It would take a lot of creamer to get it that color.

  “What are you doing, spying on me?” I growl, allowing my anger at having been seen to take over.

  He holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Just ensuring the integrity of the Bureau,” he says. “Though I do wonder what you were searching for. And why I can’t find a record of the search in the system anymore.”

  “What do you want?” I say under my breath. I’m this close to decking him.

  “I just want to make the world a safer place,” he says.

  “Cut the shit, Nick. I don’t have the patience to play these games.”