Blood and Fire (McClouds & Friends #8)(136)

The guy turned his head and looked at Bruno. He smiled.

His face alone was the answer. Sweet Jesus. It sent thrills of dread through him. So much like himself. Younger, though. Like looking through a magic mirror back in time, except that the guy’s hair was several shades lighter, and his eyes were blue. The difference was just enough to be jarring. How he’d look if he’d been dipped in bleach.

His rational mind fought it, reeling, but his cells recognized it. Alarm bells were clanging on every layer of his consciousness. He thought about the stiffs in the morgue, the ones who were related to him. Petrie hadn’t been shitting him. It was true. But still impossible.

“Oh, Christ,” he whispered. “You’re one of them, right?”

The kid’s full mouth, exactly like his own, stretched in another wide smile, activating the deep dimples. Exactly like his own.

“So are you,” he said.





“It’s been too long,” Kev said, for the tenth time. “Too damn long.”

“You think Grandma Pina’s got him strung up by his thumbs in there?” Sean said. “I think Bruno can handle a hundred-andten-pound woman in her late seventies. You’re just clock-watching, bro. It takes time to go through an old lady’s attic, or basement, or whatever. It’s a good sign that he’s taking so long. Maybe he has half a chance.”

Kev shook his head. Sean was trying to keep it light, but he was wasting his breath. “I don’t care,” he said. “I’m going in.”

“He begged you not to, man,” Sean warned.

“We can’t wait. We have to intercept Zia Rosa before she descends on one of the most brutal Mafia bosses on the Eastern seaboard.”

“She won’t have a gun on her, right?” Sean said hopefully.

“Depends on if she checked luggage or not,” Kev said.

“She totes a gun?” Sean looked shocked. “Holy shit!”

“Of course. She’s a Ranieri. She’s Tony’s sister. She has her own guns, plus his whole collection,” Kev said. “She’s a walking armory.”

Sean whistled, impressed, and checked his watch. “Hurry, Bruno. We gotta save the Mafia boss from your crazy aunt.”

The front door burst open, and Giuseppina Ranieri herself shot out, as if the house had forcibly propelled her. She wore a coat, held a big purse.

“Oh, shit,” Kev snarled. “He’s gone!”

“Gone?” Sean looked around, confused. “Gone where?”

Kev waved his hand toward the old lady. “She would never leave him in her house unsupervised!” He burst out of the car and ran to intercept the woman. “Excuse me? Mrs. Ranieri?”

She spun around, wild-eyed, brandishing a can of pepper spray. “Stay away from me!” she screeched, spraying wildly.

Kev jittered and spun back out of range before he could get a faceful of the spray, and then lunged forward, nabbing the canister before she could plunge another one. “Just a quick word with you, ma’am,” he said. “About Bruno—”

“So he was lying, then! He did tell his no good friends my number! And my address, too, eh? That lying little punk!”

Kev had no idea what to do with that. “No, ma’am. We’re just his ride, that’s all. We wondered where he’d gone. Is he still in the house?”

“I’ll call the cops!” she howled. “I’ll have you arrested!”

Sean hung way back, watching.

“Mrs. Ranieri, please, just tell me,” Kev pleaded. “Did Bruno find the jewelry box? Is he still inside looking?”

“No!” she yelled. “There was no jewelry box! He just got that phone call, and out the back door he walks! As cool as you please, without so much as a word, or a good-bye, or even a thank-you! So rude!”

“The back door? He went out the . . . oh, shit.” He and Sean exchanged horrified looks. “Oh, no, no, no.”

He and Sean bolted as one for the narrow strip of lawn bordered by the neighbor’s chain-link fence at the side of the house. The old lady followed them around back, shrieking and swinging her purse at them.

He tore through the back patio, the yard, through the breezeway, out into the alley. No sign of Bruno. He let the pepper spray canister drop to the ground, yanked out his cell, punched in the code for the phone Davy had given his little brother.

They heard the ring tone buzz from inside Pina Ranieri’s kitchen.

He and Sean stared at each other in grim dismay.

“He left the phone?” Sean murmured, frowning. “Why did he leave the f*cking phone?”

“Because they ordered him to! Goddamn it. Goddamn it!”

“Oh, and about that phone!” The breathless old lady caught up with them, her eyes bugging out. “He just walked away with my home phone! That phone cost me thirty-four dollars! I’ll have him arrested!”

“Which way did he go, ma’am?” Sean asked.

She just stared at him, squint-eyed. Sean smiled at her. “Just tell us, and we’ll try to recuperate your t go, OK?” he wheedled.

She sniffed suspiciously, jerked her thumb to the right.

They raced out, pounding down to the avenue. No Bruno. Cars zipped past in both directions on the busy street. He saw Sean pick up the phone out of a tuft of grass, hold it to his ear, give Kev a negative headshake. No line. Sean held the phone out to the sputtering old lady. “Your phone, ma’am,” he said politely. “Safe and sound.” He looked at Kev, his eyes full of dread. “Bro. Come here. Have a look at this.”