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out,” he said when he caught her eyeing the gun.
    What ideas? Death by gunshot or death by throwing herself from the car? No choice there. She could tell from his tone, his body language, he’d love it if she tried something. She wasn’t stupid.
    She sat tight. A way to escape would present itself. And when it did, she would be ready.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 8
     
    Dave slid out of the disabled car before it stopped rolling. He squeezed off his last three rounds at the speeding black Navigator. One hit the rear door, one hit the left taillight, and the last one went wide.
    “ Damn it!” He slammed his hand on the hood of his car. “Son of a bitch!” He barely restrained himself from kicking the bullet-punctured tire.
    “ Come on, Nia. Get away from them,” he muttered, though he knew it was useless. Pain gripped his heart knowing she had no chance, and his back-up wouldn’t arrive in time.
    What had gone wrong?
    Once discovering Carlo was after Sandro, Dave had taken Steve and Tony with him to the soccer field, but Sandro wasn’t there. Had never shown up, in fact. When the soccer team administrator mentioned they were the second group of men looking for Sandro, Dave felt hope. At least Carlo’s men didn’t have Sandro, even though he’d disappeared.
    Dave left Steve and Tony behind to further question the administrator because at that point it was obvious the star player had indeed disappeared. Dave himself had headed for Sandro’s house to brainstorm with Nia where her husband might have gone.
    But they were too late. Now the mob had her. And Sandro was missing.
    There was still Nia and Sandro’s small son. The child Dave wished he had been able to have with Nia.
    The boy hadn’t been in the car with his mother. Dave had to find him, get him to safety.
     
    * * *
     
    Promising to return soon, Marisa checked Sandro into a hotel amidst his protests. Leaving him to puzzle over a new throw-away phone, she ditched the stolen Beemer, made a quick dash to the computer software store, and still arrived at work by ten-thirty, only half an hour past her normal arrival time. Not so unusual it would be noticeable.
    This morning the office was in an uproar as sleazy looking men pretending to have fashion sense crowded the reception area. Loud voices could be heard from more than one office.
    Of course, Luigi wasn’t here. After calling in the order to get Sandro, with a little unasked for help from her sleeping drops, Luigi was sleeping off his winning streak from last night. She didn’t see Angie either, which was unusual. Perhaps he was one of the men trying to find Sandro. Poppa would trust Angie.
    As a boss, it was hard to find men to trust. Luigi and Angie, two of the most loyal Peruzzo Mafioso, had come over with them from Italy. She’d known Angie since she was nine. He’d tried to protect her, keep the cruelest things out of sight. Of course, there had been some things even Angie couldn’t protect her from.
    Her father. Her brother Massimo, who, in his way, was worse than her father. Massimo, cruel, lazy, indolent--of course he wasn’t at the offices yet. He rarely made an appearance before late afternoon. Massimo had always gone out of his way to torture her.
    Even after she’d put a stop to his side business where she was the commodity, he and his friends still seemed to delight in exposing her to the most perverse cruelties. Always alert, she’d noticed Massimo had begun to collect some of poppa’s soldiers for his own. Carmine, Joey and most especially the little sleaze Mikey. Weasels, rats, carnivores, willing to eat their own. It wouldn’t be long before Luigi and Angie didn’t have the strength to keep Massimo’s men at bay. Then a bloody war would start and innocent people would get caught in the crossfire again. She’d seen the ambition and greed in Massimo’s eyes. She’d even tried to warn her father and Luigi, but they’d just responded “boys will be