Ricco nodded. “Rigina and Rosina have been mapping a trail of murders that appear similar to the first one Grace knew about—Dwayne Mueller. They’re scattered over a very wide range and two cities that we know of. The girls are working now to place Phillips in the kill zone at the time of the deaths. It’s a tedious process, but they’re tenacious. If he left any trace at all, they’ll find it.”
“LA cousins concluded the problem of Owen and Becca Mueller. A few days ago they were found in their New York home dead, both with broken necks,” Stefano said.
The sense of urgency in Vittorio was growing, instead of satisfaction or relief. The small conference room the hospital had lent them was two floors down from Grace’s private suite. She would go home today, and he knew he could better protect her in his house. He wanted to get her there as fast as possible.
“We can’t do anything about Phillips until he shows himself, and then we can get his trail. Anywhere he steps in a shadow, he’ll leave a ‘print’ we can follow, but until then, let the investigators do their work. We’re on alert and we’ve got extra guards on Grace.” There was always a trail, skin cells, a scent, thermal imaging, parts left behind that the riders called prints. Sometimes those things proved helpful when tracking an individual, especially if they were fresh.
“Are you protecting our women?” Vittorio asked.
Stefano gave him a look that was meant to shrivel him. “Of course. Emme’s difficult because she already despises having bodyguards. She knows it’s mandatory for a rider, but extra guards just annoy the hell out of her.”
“How is she doing?” Vittorio hated seeing his sister hurting.
“She’s in love with Val,” Stefano answered honestly. “I wish he wasn’t a Saldi. It doesn’t matter to me that he isn’t a rider. I know Eloisa would have a fit, and so would the International Council, but the bottom line for me is Emme’s happiness. If he weren’t the heir apparent to the largest crime family in Chicago, I would have allowed the match. But as head of the family, I can’t welcome the very thing we fight against into our home, nor do I want my sister anywhere near that business.”
“Don’t ride her too hard, Stefano,” Vittorio cautioned. “Emme’s hurting, and that makes her volatile. Right now, she’s made the decision for herself. If we say anything negative to her, that could change.”
Ricco nodded his head. “I’ve had to caution Taviano a few times. You might have a word with him.”
Stefano sighed. “That’s my fault. I always want to be her parent instead of her brother. Giovanni is closest to her and he’s worried, too. Even Francesca is concerned about Emmanuelle. But you’re right, Vittorio. I’ll be careful and remind Taviano this is a situation that calls for diplomacy, not our usual tactics.”
There was a wash of relief that didn’t alleviate the sense of urgency growing in Vittorio. “Has Sarto left the hospital? I heard he was being released soon. I know Gori was released last week.”
“Sarto should have left more than a week ago,” Ricco said, “but you broke his femur and he’s been in traction and got an infection.”
The three men exchanged smiles.
“I was pretty pissed,” Vittorio admitted. “It helps to know exactly where to hit or kick them.”
“Which is why Gori’s arm was in traction for a while as well. The cops took him to jail with his arm in a cast.” Ricco said. “We’ve been checking on both of them. Sarto has a police guard. Gori’s in solitary and only their lawyer’s been allowed to see either of them. Neither Miceli nor his sons have come near them. In fact, Miceli continues to deny he knows anything at all about what transpired.”
“The two men claim they were at the club having a good time and when they left, you assaulted them in the parking lot, Vittorio,” Stefano said.
Vittorio shrugged. “Did they think we wouldn’t have cameras everywhere?”
“I think they were told by whoever is helping them in the club—and I’ve narrowed it down to three men and one woman—that they would erase the footage. Fortunately, we took it that night before anyone could get to it. Giovanni jumped all over that the minute he got there.”
“We’ve got eyes on the Saldis, although both Giuseppi and Miceli claim they had nothing to do with this. Giuseppi wants a meet with us,” Stefano added.
“When?” Vittorio would be going to that meeting.
“Next week. His wife is bad, and he asked for more time. So, Wednesday at five o’clock in the hotel conference room. Val will be there. Miceli and his sons as well. We should be able to hear lies, but they won’t know that,” Stefano said.
“Are you certain?” Vittorio asked, keeping his voice low. It wasn’t only Taviano who had a hot temper. “They’re direct descendants from the Saldi line in Sicily. You know that it’s said more than one of our women fell for a Saldi back then.”