“What if they know something about it, though?” Sierra asked.

  Juliette thought about that. She thought hard. And she had to admit, it was possible. Gianni had almost definitely been involved with the local Mafia on a small scale. Had someone wanted to send a threat, and he was the collateral damage?

  "You’re right. That’s a possibility. And there’s only one way I can think of to find it out,” she said.

  “What’s that?” Wyatt asked.

  “We ask them," Juliette explained.

  Wyatt nearly fell off his chair in astonishment.

  "Ask them? You can’t just walk in and do that. You’d be putting yourself in danger! I mean, look, I know the mob in the U.S. has a code of ethics about killing cops – most times – but I’m sure here in Naples, all bets are off in a situation like that. I mean, these aren’t our Mafia! How can we predict what they’ll do?” He sounded agonized about it.

  “If it is a rival gang, they’ll be worried. They will want to cooperate,” Juliette said. “They would also know if there were any links to Vincenzo DiCristoforo, which we haven’t been able to find yet, but they might know about. And in any case, we’re only supposing he’s involved with the mob at all. He might not be. We can’t avoid asking questions because we’re worried it’ll annoy the local Mafia! If we start out this way, we’re never going to find the killer.”

  Wyatt sighed. “How do you find the right person? I’m not sure even the cops would be willing, or even able, to give us that information. They wouldn’t want to inadvertently start a war, would they? And if they agreed, how would they know who Gianni had been dealing with?”

  Juliette nodded. Finding the right person was going to be a sticking point. Her idea might result in a dead end, and no useful information changing hands.

  "I think I might have a plan,” Sierra piped up.

  Juliette turned to stare at her in surprise.

  “A plan for what? Finding Gianni’s connection?” she asked.

  “I'm tracking back the trail of that counterfeit fashion," Sierra said, intent on her screen again. "I think this is a situation where the local cops may have been paid off to ignore it, because I'm seeing a few places here that seem to be involved in the supply chain. They're not exactly hidden. They're just named as local manufacturing plants. I see there’s one big warehouse here which is under the name of Cielo Moda. And Gianni checked in there a few times. I’m looking at his social media. It might be legit, but it might not?"

  "Cielo Moda. Sky Fashion? It could be a shell company they’re using. Dig deeper," Juliette told her. "We need to know more. Find me the person who’s in charge of that warehouse. That would probably be Gianni's boss. Or at least, the person he did business with. Let's look for that connection."

  "I'm looking, I'm looking."

  Sierra continued to dig deeper, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she searched for any connections between Gianni Rossi and the mob, via the shell company Cielo Moda and that suspiciously large warehouse.

  "Got it!" she said triumphantly. "The manager of Cielo Moda is listed here as Salvatore Marchese. I can’t find much else on him; he doesn’t have a social media profile. He seems to be very low key."

  Wyatt turned straight back to the police database, looking to see if that name rang any alarm bells.

  "If he’s working for the mob, he might not have been that low key for his past career,” he said thoughtfully.

  “Look for a record,” Juliette urged.

  Wyatt went into the database, whistling between his teeth as he checked out that possibility.

  “Yup," he said. "Salvatore has a record, way back. Arrested for dealing in contraband goods, which adds up with what we’re seeing here. He's kept his nose clean for a few years, but all that means is he's been careful."

  “Did he ever go to prison?” Juliette asked.

  “It doesn’t look like it. The file is unavailable so I can’t get the details.”

  That, too, pointed toward a relationship with someone of influence in the local police. It was a big red flag in Juliette’s book.

  "At least we have a name, and that's a starting point." Juliette's mind was still racing as she turned over plans in her mind.

  "What are we going to do about it? Raid them?" Wyatt asked.

  "No," Juliette said. "I don't think a raid will work. That's going to stir up trouble. What I'd like to do is get in there quietly. On an unofficial basis. Make it clear that we’re not pinpointing them, but that we’re following up on Gianni’s connections. Then if we can speak to Salvatore, he might be high up enough to know what goes on. And then, maybe, we can find out from him personally."

  Both Sierra and Wyatt looked at her with shocked expressions.

  "You can't be serious!" Wyatt said. "Go in there? Confront the mob?"

  "They're not going to want trouble with us. Not if they know we're FBI. The Naples Mafia might be violent, but it does not want the entire FBI on their doorstep looking into their activities," she argued firmly. "It’s the only way we can get valuable intel, and at least we can speak face to face with them if we try a subtle approach. If nothing else, we’ll have the element of surprise, and they might be surprised enough to talk.”

  "One wrong move and we're toast, regardless," Wyatt said, his face turning a red she hadn't even known it was capable of. "It's absolutely crazy. It's risking all of our lives."

  "And that's why I think I should go in alone." Juliette looked at him calmly.

  Wyatt and Sierra both stared at Juliette with concern and disbelief.

  "Are you out of your mind?" Wyatt said, his voice rising in anger. "There is no way you can go in there alone. It's too dangerous."

  "But we don't have any other options. We have to take the chance if we want to get to the bottom of this, because if it’s a rival gang or someone doing it as a gesture, they’re the only ones who will know. They are very unlikely to take me out, for reasons I've explained already."

  Sierra looked impressed. "You're brave," she said. "I don't know if I could do what you're doing."

  "It's not bravery, it's insanity. Pure folly." Wyatt thumped his hands angrily on the desk. "You think I'm going to let you go in there alone? Into the lion's den?"

  "I'm not asking for your permission," Juliette said firmly, and he let out an angry grimace.

  “We’re partners, not the boss of each other, I know that, but partners look out for each other in bad situations,” he argued.

  “I know you’re worried. It's just that I don't want to risk anyone else's life. If something goes wrong, I don't want anyone else to get hurt. I can handle myself."

  "It's what they do, not what you do," he grumbled.

  "I have to," Juliette said. "It's the only way we're going to get the information we need."

  Sierra chimed in. "I agree. It's risky, but it could be worth it. We need to find out what's going on, and Salvatore could have the answers. I mean, we need those answers. I’m sure our bosses back in Manhattan would tell us to go ahead and find out?" She glanced at Juliette, and then at Wyatt, her eyebrows raised.

  Wyatt also looked between the two of them, his expression torn. "I don't like this. Not at all."

  "Neither do I," Juliette said quietly. "But it's the best way forward. Trust me. It's all in the planning. And I think I know why it’s going to work."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "Okay then." Juliette saw the challenge in Wyatt's eyes as he stared at her. "How will it work in a way that doesn't lose us one of the best damned agents I've ever worked with? You could be totally wrong. This could be a mob related killing."

  “Remember the reason we were brought in to start with?” Juliette argued. “The killer was supposedly American. One of the victims said so. That makes it even more unlikely to be mob related. If they handled a killing like this, it would be done locally, by trusted people. Not by outsiders and not by an American.”

  “Okay. But let’s also bear in mind that the victim could have been trying to say something completely different. He was mortally injured. The most we can say is that there’s a possibility an American committed the crime. So, who do you think did it then? Why go in there at all?"

  "There are two possibilities," she said.

  "What's the first?" Wyatt's eyes were hard.

  "First option, the killer might have a personal vendetta. I think it might be someone Gianni knew from before, someone who had a grudge against him. That's why we need to talk to Salvatore. He's the one person who might be able to tell us who Gianni was connected to, who might have wanted to see him dead. Especially if they were an American."

  There was a thoughtful silence.

  "What's the second option?" Wyatt then asked.

  "Second, is that it's a rival organization; if it's someone they're up against, they're likely to tell us. Who wouldn't want the FBI going in and arresting their opposition?"

  "We're not out to protect the mob's interests," Wyatt frowned.

  "No. Absolutely agreed. We're not. But right now, the mob is not the problem. The mob is not threatening tourism. Not who we're being begged to find. This killer is, and we need to use any route possible to get to him. Even if that means asking someone with Mafia connections. Because if we don’t, and they’re the only people who know, there’s simply no other way of finding this out."

  Juliette caught sight of the worried expression on Wyatt's face and she gave him a reassuring smile.

  "I'll be alright," she said. "I'm sure of it. We just need to think this through and make sure we have a plan of action. We need to make sure that if something goes wrong, you can come in and get me out. I'm sure we can do this."

  Wyatt nodded slowly and looked at Juliette with reluctant admiration. "You're right. We have to rule it out or we will never know, but we need to make sure you don't get into any trouble."

  "Let’s not over think this. I go in alone. And I go now," she said.

  Wyatt checked the time. "It's nine-thirty already."

  "All the better. Their defenses will be down; they will have wrapped up for the day."

  "Okay. What do you need? Police back-up?"

  "No, I don't think so. I don't want to draw attention to myself. I'll go in, ask what I need to, and then get out. I'll be careful. I'll wear a wire, just in case. They'll expect that, and they won't act impulsively."

  "Okay. Let's get you organized, get this wire in place, and get this over with before I start regretting having agreed to it," Wyatt grumbled.

  Nervous as she felt about approaching the local mob, Juliette had the strong feeling that the sooner she could get this struck off the list, the better. Otherwise, they would never know. Not having asked would be a potential weakness in the case, and she wanted it to be tackled, now.

  Wyatt was already heading out of the office.

  "Wire. We need a wire, please," she heard him say in a loud voice to the officers in the lobby. Loud of course, so that they had a better chance of understanding his English.

  She was about to go through and save him when she heard him say, "Yes, wire!" and felt sure he'd mimed the action, probably gesticulating at his ear in a way that would have been very embarrassing to Wyatt if she or Sierra had seen it.

  "What's the address?" she asked Sierra, focusing on the practicalities of the first important step they needed to take in this case.

  "I'm messaging you a pin drop," she said. "It's not in the tourist area. It seems to be in Forcella, just outside of the town center. And now that I’m looking, that seems to be infamous as a mob headquarters."

  Juliette received the pin drop and quickly memorized the location. She felt an uneasy knot form in her stomach as she thought about what she was about to do. She had briefly interacted with the mob before, on a few occasions with various goals and outcomes, but this was different. She was going in alone, and she didn't know who she was going to meet.

  Wyatt returned to the office with a small wire and a device to record the conversation, which he handed to Juliette. She thanked him and quickly attached the wire to her clothing, tucking it carefully into place.

  "I'll wait in the car, parked around the corner," Wyatt said, his voice low. "I'll be listening in on the conversation."

  Juliette nodded, her heart pounding in her chest now that this was actually under way.

  She removed her FBI jacket. It would be better for the initial impression to be of a plainclothes detective, and not the Feds swarming in. She didn't want to scare her informant off or escalate the situation. She had a plain denim jacket in her bag and she put that on.

  "Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "Let's go."

  With one last look at the determined faces of her colleagues, Juliette stepped out of the office and into the night. She had a job to do, and she was determined to see it through.

  They got into the car, with Wyatt at the wheel. The drive to Forcella, the epicenter of mob activity in Naples, took just a few minutes. As night was drawing on, the traffic was lessening.

  The street was quiet, the buildings on either side of them dark and foreboding as they left the residential area of town behind.

  “This is the one,” Wyatt said, pointing. “I won’t stop right outside, but it’s two doors down.”

  He parked the car and Juliette stepped out.

  "I'll stay here," Wyatt said, his voice quiet. "You'll be okay, right?"

  Juliette nodded, her mouth dry. She had the wire and he had the recording device. All she needed to do was go in and ask a few questions.

  "Yes," she said. "I'm ready."

  The street was dimly lit, with only a few streetlamps casting their glow onto the pavement. She kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might be watching. The buildings seemed to stretch on and on in an endless row, and Juliette felt a chill run down her spine.

  She was about to enter a world of danger and deception, and if she let herself think about all the possible outcomes, she knew she’d be scared. But she was also determined enough for that to outweigh any fear.

  The warehouse whose address Sierra had found was in a row of other small offices and industrial buildings, packed together. If it was a normal business, she would not have assumed there were people here at this hour. But since it was mob related, it was highly likely that people would be working after hours, and the place would be secured.

  Was Salvatore here? And would this plan give her what she needed to stop a killer?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Finally, Juliette reached the warehouse. It was tall and imposing, and there were no windows - only a single recessed door. She took a deep breath and steeled her nerves, then knocked firmly on the door.

  There was a moment of silence during which she breathed deeply, calming herself, but her heart sped up all the same when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

  The door opened, and she found herself facing a man who was undoubtedly a bodyguard. Standing in the lobby, which was dark and stretched back a long way, he was tall and muscular. Buzz cut hair accentuated a square jaw, and he had a hard expression on his face. He looked her up and down, and she could see in his eyes that he had pegged her as law enforcement.

  Behind him, in the shadows, she saw the figures of one other man, maybe two. No doubt remained. She’d walked straight into a mob operations point.

  She knew that her next few words could make or break the success of this mission, and that the wrong words, now, would put her at deadly risk.

  "Good evening. I am with a special investigation unit," she said in English. "There have been two very strange, disturbing murders in Naples recently. Evidence points to the killer being American. One of the victims was Gianni Rossi."

  She looked at him carefully while she spoke. The name Gianni Rossi rang a bell, she could see. His face changed when she said it.

  "So, why are you here?" he asked, in a voice that told her, for sure, she wasn't welcome.

  "I don’t want to cause any trouble,” she said, “but I want to know some background on Gianni. I thought this might be a place to find it. I understand that Gianni worked with a man called Salvatore in the past, here at Cielo Moda, and perhaps Salvatore will know if Gianni had any enemies, any problems in his life."

  The bodyguard looked her up and down again, his expression unreadable. Juliette could feel her palms sweating as she waited for his response.

  She could see that one of the other men, standing further back, had turned away and was speaking in a low voice to someone she couldn't see at all.

  Finally, he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter.

  Juliette had no idea if she was even going to get to Salvatore. She walked in, immediately realizing how the small noises from outside were noticeably hushed. These walls were soundproofed. The place smelled clean, of fresh paint and immaculately scrubbed tiles, with a heavy undertone of a musk deodorant from the guard himself. Everything was well-kept, well-cleaned. Money, she could see, flowed freely.

  She could see no sign of this place being used as a traditional fashion warehouse. No racks of clothing. Not that she’d expected any.

  The bodyguard led her down a long hallway, and Juliette could feel the weight of the silence around her. She could hear her own footsteps echoing off the walls, and the sound of her own breathing in her ears. At the end of the hallway, they turned left, and then right, before coming to a door. The bodyguard knocked twice, and then opened it, gesturing for Juliette to enter.

  She found herself in an ante room, small and neat, with white painted walls, dark tiles, and a few chairs and desks. Two more guards were sitting at the desks flanking the door at the far wall.

  One of them stood up.

  "What is your name?" he asked her harshly.

  "Juliette Hart," she replied.

  "And you are police?"

  She nodded. "Investigating the murder of Gianni Rossi."

  The guard looked her over, as if assessing her intentions. Juliette could see that he was muscular and heavily tattooed, with a thick neck and a menacing scowl. He was the kind of man who could snap an arm in two without breaking a sweat.