Miles Away (Carrion #1)(83)
“Was Knox involved?”
“No. Knox doesn’t know anything about it.”
Landon tried to sort out his thoughts and make sense of the situation, but it was no use. There was no making heads or tails of what was happening. Letting out a sigh, Landon double parked out front of Letty’s father’s house.
“Here we are,” Landon said. “Hold on, I’m coming with you.”
“Lock the car. He’ll snap if anything happens to it,” Letty warned.
Juan Alves’s car was still parked in the driveway, a fact that brought Letty considerable comfort.
Maybe he’s just had his phone on vibrate, Letty thought.
Pulling her keys out of her purse, Letty ran up the porch steps. As she approached the front door though, she noticed something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. The front door was ajar, and there was a scuff mark on the door where someone had clearly kicked on the surface. Letty’s stomach lurched with anxiety as she pushed the door open. It took a second to understand what was going on. The calamity of the scene brought tears to Letty’s eyes. There were signs of a struggle. Juan’s coffee table was broken, wood splintered into a pile on the floor. The TV screen was shattered and picture frames that had rested on top of the TV stand lay broken on the floor.
“Dad!” Letty cried out as her hands began to shake. “Dad!”
Sobs began to break from Letty’s mouth.
“Gabriel?”
Landon went to Letty’s side as he looked around at the destruction. Listening carefully to make sure they were alone, Landon was desperate to get Letty out of the house.
“We need to go!” Landon urged.
“G! Dad!” Letty persisted.
“Letty, now. We need to go,” Landon said as he tugged on Letty’s arm.
“No! My baby!” Letty howled as she fought against Landon.
“We’re going to get him, Letty,” Landon told her calmly. “We need to go.”
“My baby…” Letty pleaded as she fell against Landon’s shoulder. Wrapping his arm around Letty, he stroked her hair as he let her cry it out.
“Listen to me, Letty,” Landon begged. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Through her sobs, Letty looked up at Landon.
“What?” Letty asked. “What do you need to tell me?”
Landon let out a deep sigh. Unbuttoning the buttons of his dress shirt, Landon reached beneath his undershirt and pulled out what looked like a wallet on a chain. When Letty’s eyes focused, she realized that it wasn’t a wallet at all. It was a badge.
“This has to be between us. I’m an undercover police officer for Carrion’s organized crime prevention unit.”
Choking through her tears, Letty actually laughed.
“Are you shitting me?”
“You didn’t have a clue?”
“No. No one does. They all think you’re in taking courses at the community college for business.”
“Don’t blow my cover.”
“Oh, no, Landon. I want the mob out of Carrion as much as you do.”
Landon smiled. “We’re going to get your boys back. Come on. We need to go to the station.”
Miles glared up from the metal bench he sat upon, staring down the long hallway beyond the bars of his cell. There was a hatred so great permeating from his eyes that none of the other prisoners dared to even look his way. From the shadows of the hallway, a man emerged, walking quietly with a strange smile on his face. Miles recognized him immediately. Dressed in a charcoal gray suit, Nunzio Rigatti walked from the shadows and approached the bars of the cell.
“Miles Capadonno,” Nunzio said in a chilly tone of voice.
“Nunzio…” Miles said with a nod of his head.
Nunzio glared at Miles with a pair of deep-set eyes.
“You killed my grandson, your father killed my son, and now I have taken something precious of yours.”
“What the f*ck are you talking about? I never laid a hand on your greaseball son. You’re looking at the wrong Capadonno for that one.”
Nunzio waved his hand, brushing away Miles’s comments.
“I have taken something that is precious for you. If you want him back, you’re going to have to come for him yourself.”
“Who? What the f*ck are you talking about, old man?” Miles spat as he stood up off his bench.
“Il tuo bambino…” Nunzio said with a raised eyebrow.
It took Miles a moment to understand Nunzio’s meaning. Il tuo bambino was Italian for “your baby boy.”
Reaching his arm through the bars of his cell, Miles gripped onto Nunzio’s dress shirt. Yanking the man forward, Miles slammed his face into the bars of the cell.
“If that child has shed one tear,” Miles said through gritted teeth. “If that child has been hurt in any way…”
Miles glared at Nunzio through the bars of his cell. Pressing the old man’s face to the bars, Miles snarled with rage.
“What?” Nunzio growled. “Say it.”
“I will torch the house of Rigatti to the ground.”
Slamming the man against the bars once more, Miles let go and threw Nunzio to the floor with a thud.
“See you in Brooklyn, motherf*cker!” Miles screamed.