run his office at the ranch.” Stepping away, he grinned. “My boss says he’s a good man.”
“If he’s that amazing, he’s probably married.”
“Nope. A widower.” Brady reached into a pocket. “He gave me his number in case Mom wants to call about the job.”
Katrina stared at the paper. “Did he tell you what her duties would be?”
Brady shrugged. “Just that he needed someone to manage his office at the ranch. Do you think Mom could do that?”
“I don’t know. My guess is he’s looking for someone good on the computer, who can keep his files organized and handle his appointments. He might even need someone to take care of the ranch books. Honestly, I have no idea if Mom has experience with any of it.”
“Guess all we can do is ask.”
“Does that mean you’re ready to go back?” Katrina glanced at their house across the street, then at Brady.
“Do I still get a ride in the truck?”
“You sure do.”
Continuing to talk, they crossed the street, both unaware of the man sitting in a car a few houses away. No longer wearing a hat or sunglasses, he held up a camera, capturing their images.
Smirking, he sent them off, knowing he’d done all he could for now.
Chapter Eight
South Side Chicago
“You’re certain of their identity?” Peter Vena, Capo of the Chicago Mob, stared out the window to the street below. The aroma of baking bread, rich marinara sauce, and Italian meats wafted up to his second floor office, reminding him he had yet to eat dinner.
“I haven’t seen the mother. The boy and girl are older, but fit the descriptions. I’ll get a good look at the mother tomorrow and let you know.” Tony Carparelli, a soldier in the Chicago Mafia, continued watching the house.
He’d been assigned to find the woman and her children two years ago, tracking them to a house in Nebraska. They’d vanished not long afterward. It had taken all this time to get a lead on them in Arizona.
“What do you want me to do?”
Peter moved away from the window. “Nothing right now. I’ll discuss it with Salvatore.” He mentioned the underboss, the man who’d first ordered the family be located after disappearing from Las Vegas.
Tony had been ordered to take over from another Mob soldier when his predecessor had failed to identify their location after three years of searching. It hadn’t taken Tony long to track the family to Nebraska. Within weeks, they’d disappeared again. This time, he wasn’t going to let them skip out.
“Do not let them get away from you this time, Tony. Contact me once you confirm the mother is who we want. I’ll find out what Salvatore intends to do with the family.” Peter ended the call, leaving Tony to consider his options.
He was one man surveilling three people who worked for separate employers, one still in high school. Tony had long ago figured out why Salvatore wanted the two women and the boy. As a soldier in the organization, he’d learned to be cautious about asking too many questions. He was paid to do a job and nothing more.
Three hours passed before all the lights went out and Tony felt safe leaving for his hotel. Tomorrow, he’d return before dawn. If Peter wanted photos of the mother, he’d get him photos.
“Gunner. Do you have eyes on the Disciples?”
Adjusting his earpiece, Gunner used night binoculars to watch the interior of the clubhouse from his prone position ten yards beyond the new cyclone fence. “Affirmative, Chaos. I count eight, including Big T. I’ve already taken pictures and sent them to Raider. What do you have?”
“Twelve bikes, three trucks. ID’d Big T, Cracker, and Ox.” Chaos’s jaw clenched at the fourth man he recognized. “Einstein, the national VP, just entered.”
“Got him. He’s the ex-SEAL.”
Chaos swallowed the bile in his throat “The same.”
He detested men who left the teams to join outlaw organizations of any kind. His loathing extended even further with Einstein.
Gunner again tapped his earpiece. “I’ve sent a message to Wrath, confirming what we’ve seen.”
“Roger.” Chaos grabbed his night vision binoculars, watching a group of men walk outside. “I’ve got movement out the front.”
“Are they leaving?”
“No. It’s the three local officers plus Einstein. They’re talking, but I’m too far away to make anything out. Maybe Raider can pick up something.”
Gunner rose to his haunches, staying in the cover of the underbrush. Raising the binoculars, he did his best to locate as many of the cameras and mics as he could. The tall ceilings helped conceal