Lethal Legacy by Hannon Irene

Author:Hannon, Irene [Hannon, Irene]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC027110, Mystery, Inspirational, Fathers and daughters—Fiction, FIC042040, Romance, Fathers—Crimes against—Fiction, Suspense, FIC042060, Contemporary, Law enforcement—Fiction
ISBN: 9781441238238
Goodreads: 15784541
Publisher: Revell
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

“We have a problem.” Vincentio pressed the pay phone closer to his ear and turned his back on the boisterous crowd in the noisy bar just beyond the foyer. It was hard to hear, but with the police nosing around, he didn’t intend to use his cell for business anymore.

“What sort of problem?”

“I told you I wanted a clean operation in St. Louis. No questions asked.”

“I was assured that had happened.”

“The St. Louis County police just called. A detective wants to pay me a visit. He has questions.”

“But . . . the case is closed.”

“Not anymore. I want this fixed. Fast. Or there will be consequences. Pass that message on to our friend.” He spat out the last word. “And find out what went wrong.”

“I’m on it.”

“He has until Thanksgiving.” Vincentio slammed the phone back into the hook on the wall holder and held on to it for a moment, quivering with rage.

He did not need this. Especially now, after making inroads with Eileen mere hours ago. He’d been so hopeful when he’d left his son’s house . . . That’s why he’d snatched up the phone tonight, half expecting it to be her. Calling with good news.

Instead he’d found himself talking to a police detective.

If his son got even the faintest whiff of this new development, whatever chance he had of holding his grandson in his arms would die faster than a professional assassin took out a mark.

Vincentio pushed through the door into the night, head bent against the biting wind as sleet pricked his cheeks. Winter was coming to Buffalo early this year.

And perhaps to his life.

A loose piece of pavement caught the toe of his favorite Bruno Magli dress oxfords, and he lurched forward. Stumbled. Clutched at the car beside him. Stabilized.

Heart pounding, he took a few deep breaths. In the old days, he’d never stumbled—while walking or doing business. Yet it seemed he’d stumbled with Carlson. But paying a hit man to take out Walsh hadn’t been a feasible option. A suspicious death would have been followed by an investigation that could potentially have turned up a link to him. The pseudo suicide had been perfect, and choosing an insider to carry it out had been brilliant.

According to the dossier Vincentio had read, Carlson had been the ideal candidate—drowning in gambling debts, desperate to keep his vice a secret, fearful he’d lose his job just as he’d lost his wife. All excellent incentives to do a stellar job. And having the man investigate his own handiwork had provided an extra measure of insurance.

But Carlson had been a bad choice, after all, as Vincentio’s colleague had warned. He should have stuck with a pro. A man who wouldn’t make mistakes. Let things slip through the cracks.

The sleet intensified, and Vincentio continued toward his Lexus, his lips pressed into a grim line as he skirted the dangerous, icy patches that had begun to form.

This time there would be no mistakes.

Or any loose ends.

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