“She’s getting to know me. We’ve been here a little over two weeks. I can get her laughing, keep her mind off the fact that she thinks Phillips is going to kill a member of my family. Half the time she’s worried he’s in the vents here. I know she tries to stay awake. The little bastard has kept her from sleeping for ages. The doctor said she has to sleep to heal.”
He couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice, no matter how hard he tried. He needed to be out there in the city hunting, and he also needed to be with Grace, but he couldn’t be in two places at one time.
Ricco put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s not going to be able to hide forever.”
“She says he’s patient, that he’ll wait weeks or months before he strikes at someone.”
Stefano turned toward them. He’d been staring out the window, and who knew what he’d been thinking, but Vittorio immediately gave his older brother his full attention, as did Ricco.
“We’re not going to find him the way we usually find someone. He doesn’t have a bank account, so no money trail. He doesn’t rent or own. He doesn’t have a car. He takes money from other people, he lives in the attics of homes or apartments and he steals cars when he wants a ride. He can become anonymous in a crowd. He’s small enough to fit in vents and has no problems getting in and out of locked doors.”
Vittorio massaged the back of his neck. Already he was becoming restless, everything in him urging him to get back to Grace. “We’ve got to hurry this meeting.”
“She isn’t alone,” Stefano reminded. “She has a bodyguard in the room with her and two outside. Mariko and Emmanuelle will be there in a few minutes.”
Having his sister and sister-in-law in the room with Grace helped. Both were shadow riders and every bit as capable as he was. They’d trained every day of their lives since they were two years old, just as he had, and they dispensed justice when their rotation came up. They did it with efficiency and without hesitation. Grace was in good hands, and yet he still had this restless feeling of urgency that just wouldn’t go away.
“What do you think about Phillips?” Vittorio countered, not wanting to look too closely at the reason he was becoming so edgy. He was always centered. He’d trained himself to be that way. To always feel absolute calm.
Grace had spent two weeks in the hospital . . . suffering. The bullet had shattered her shoulder; fortunately the surgeon had been able to piece it back together, but she would always have problems. The injury was particularly painful. The surgeon had saved the arm, but it would be a long road to recovery and she would always have some pain. He detested that for her. She was definitely getting stronger and he needed to get her home before she had too much time to think about it. He’d been putting her boss, Katie Branscomb, off visiting her, saying to wait until he got her settled, but he was afraid Katie would insist on Grace going home with her.
“I think Phillips won’t stop. Grace knows him better than anyone else and if she says he’s likely to come after you and every member of our family, I think we’d better pay attention. I also think Grace is the only anchor he has in this world. He might punish her for not doing exactly what he wants, but he won’t kill her. He can’t afford to lose her and he’s intelligent. A twisted killer, but a very intelligent one. The Saldis don’t have a clue what they’ve unleashed,” Stefano gave his opinion.
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