A Face to Die For (Forensic Instincts 6)

What an asshole he’d been.

He’d poured out the whole story to his brother. And, shit, had Angelo been ripping pissed—especially about the babies he now had to deal with.

“Why didn’t you leave them there?” he’d snapped. “You’d fucked up enough already. What do I look like, a goddamned wet nurse? What am I supposed to do with them?”

But in the end, Angelo had calmed down, and he’d known just what to do. He’d called on one of the young lawyers on his payroll to play the part of Constantin Farro, adoption lawyer. The attorney had drawn up the necessary papers, made the necessary visits, and once the job was done,

gotten a fat payment in exchange for fading into the woodwork. Angelo had used his far-reaching connections to doctor records, forge birth certificates, and—most of all—to make provisions for Jimmy’s disappearance.

Fulfilling Joseph’s and Donna’s dream had been the one thing that had quieted Angelo’s rage. He knew how badly they wanted a child, how long and hard they’d tried to have one, and how heartbroken they were at the lack of results. This was Angelo’s chance to give them one. And he’d made that happen, too. He’d also carefully chosen the other two couples—the Russos and the Muranos-- because they were so desperate to adopt a child that they were willing to accept all conditions without question. Still, in the event that, over time, they “forgot” the rules, he’d put long-term surveillance into place to ensure there were no violations.

It had all come together. And it would have stayed that way if two of those fucking triplets hadn’t found each other.

Jimmy rose from the bed. The time for reflection was over. It was time. He had to leave his cushy life behind and run.

He’d just grabbed his duffel bag when his cell phone rang.

His iPhone screen told him it was Joseph.

Jimmy couldn’t ignore him. The risk was too great. Given the precarious state of affairs right now, Joseph would track him down like a hunted deer if he blew him off. And Jimmy had no idea how much more Joseph had learned.

He had to answer and find out.

“Hey.” Jimmy wondered if Joseph could hear his heart pounding right through the phone.

“I’m headed home,” Joseph replied in a voice as hard as stone. “Meet me at the gazebo. Leave now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“We’ll discuss it when you get there.”

Click.

Office of Forensic Instincts

2:15 p.m.

The tension that filled the brownstone was palpable.

So much had happened during the minutes since the Brandos had taken off that everyone’s head was spinning.

The door had barely shut behind Joseph and Donna when Casey called Patrick, striding back to the sitting room as she did.

She collided with Lina, who’d been hovering in the hallway, listening. This time, instead of looking devastated, she looked furious.

Casey held up one finger as she spoke to Patrick, who was parked directly across from the brownstone.

“The Brandos just left,” she told him, crossing the threshold to the room where everyone waited. “They claimed they were leaving to search for Lina. My gut tells me they’re headed to meet Jimmy. Follow them.” She met Marc’s gaze and tipped her head toward the door, giving him a tacit signal. “Marc’s coming with you, just in case there’s trouble.”

Marc was out the door before she hung up.

Casey turned to Lina. “I’m sorry for what you overheard,” she said simply.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. My parents do.” Lina’s chin was set in an uncompromising line. “I’m confronting them—now,” she announced. “I know what I said a few minutes ago, but the conversation you just had changed everything. My father’s hiding something major. I might not be his natural child, but I know him well. I’m also as stubborn as he is. So whatever information he’s hiding, I’m getting it out of him.” Her gaze met Gia’s and Dani’s. “I’m catching the next ferry to Todt Hill. I’ll wait for my parents there.”

“Wait.” Casey grabbed her arm. “Let me find John Nickels. He’s probably close by, waiting to give Gia and Dani a ride home. I’d rather you not go to your parents’ place alone, not when I can’t predict Jimmy Colone’s next move.”

“I’m not worried.”