Taking Care of the Target by Cindi Madsen

Author:Cindi Madsen [Madsen, Cindi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cindi Madsen Books LLC
Published: 2017-01-19T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Good job, kid,” Jim said to Mancini, clapping him on the back. This had been quite the day of interesting, unexpected turns in the Rossi case, and he couldn’t help but be optimistic they were finally getting somewhere.

“Hopefully this makes up for blowing the surveillance on the waitress,” Mancini said.

“This makes up for anything you might’ve ever done wrong in your life.” Jim slowed at the door to the interrogation room. He’d sat for several hours at McCarthy’s, waiting for Cassie, who didn’t show. Imagine his surprise when Carlo Rossi himself made an appearance. Jim hoped he played off his shock quickly enough. The temptation to move closer and attempt to overhear that phone call had nearly overwhelmed him, but he’d forced himself to play it cool. Despite also wanting to stay longer, he paid his bill and took off to avoid being made.

Meanwhile across town, Mancini watched Dante Costa load his car up with enough drugs to get an army high and called for backup. They followed him, hoping to catch him selling red-handed, and miracle of miracles, that’s exactly what happened. So they brought him down to one of the local stations. Between one other arrest for possession and an assault charge, this made strike three, and that meant serious time.

With any luck, they could turn him against Carlo Rossi and use this as the domino push that took down the entire organization. If not, well, Dante could enjoy prison, and Carlo would have to scramble for someone to replace him. Disorder always helped create mistakes, and they’d be there to catch them.

“Ready?” Jim asked, and Mancini nodded, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Get your game face on, then.”

Mancini narrowed his eyes into slits, and now Jim was the one fighting a smile. No counting chicks before they hatched. First they had to get him to talk. Before he insisted on a lawyer.

Jim opened the door, and he and Mancini strode into the room. Dante sat in a chair on the other side of the table, his hands cuffed to the bar in the center. A snake tattoo coiled around one of his massive arms, and when he met Jim’s eye, the bastard grinned.

What he wouldn’t do to be able to knock that smug look right off his face. Instead he casually sat opposite him. “Looks like you’ve landed yourself in a bit of trouble.”

Dante shrugged. “Not my first rodeo.”

“I know. It’s your third. Maybe you’ve heard that New Jersey’s got a three-strike law. They take it pretty seriously, too.”

That took off the arrogant edge. His eyes hardened. “It’s only two. That assault charge was dropped. Didn’t they teach you to read in the academy, copper?”

Jim fought the urge to run out and retrieve his files. Not that they were in this station; they were back at FBI headquarters in Newark. He’d looked at them so often. How had he forgotten that? No doubt the assault charges were dropped with the threat of another assault.

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