Chapter Seven
The ride was long, and just outside of town. Angelica knew from her research on Salem this area was known for two things – wealth and power.
Angelica watched as the large wrought iron gates swung open and Steve maneuvered the bike up the winding drive to the spacious home.
"Holy crap, Johnson!" Angelica eased off the bike as they stopped in front of the home. The massive front doors opened and a tall, thin man waited as Steve removed his helmet and grinned.
"What do ya think?" he asked.
Angelica removed her own helmet and followed him up the steps, "Don't tell me this is yours!"
Steve took her helmet and gave it to the butler, who promptly disappeared.
"Not bad for a one-eyed bum from the wrong side of the tracks, huh?"
She stared at the marble flooring and pricey art in the foyer. Angelica fought the urge to brush off her jeans and smooth her hair. She didn't fit here and up until five minutes ago – she would have sworn Steve Johnson didn't either.
She followed Steve into a large room. There was a huge stone fireplace that dominated one wall, and another wall with a floor to ceiling bookcase. There were two large leather sofas facing each other with a glass coffee table between them. The whole room looked as if it had been snatched from the Ponderosa.
"You've got some explaining to do, my friend." Angelica accepted the beer Steve had produced from the bar in the far corner.
He took a deep breath, "This," he waved a hand around the room, "This is nothing. A few investments I made overseas finally paid off. I had this built for Kayla, but…"
The sadness in his words told her everything. He had built this before their divorce and never got the chance to surprise his wife with it.
She took a deep breath, "Speaking of…do you have any idea who that was tonight?"
Steve nodded. "Our old friend Moretti."
Angelica shook her head, "That's impossible. I put three bullets in that bastard; two of them just for the hell of it." She stood and began to pace, "He's dead, Johnson. Antonio Moretti is dead."
Steve settled into the sofa, "Yes, Antonio is but his brother Edmond is very much alive and well."
Angelica stopped, "Brother?"
Steve nodded. "Apparently Edmond Moretti was the black sheep of the family. His father disowned him; the reasons are still not clear but the man left Italy and has been living on an island north of the Florida Keys."
Angelica flopped down on the sofa opposite her friend. Antonio had a brother? Where was that file when she and Steve worked the case all those years ago?
"So why does he want Kayla?" She asked.
Angelica watched as a muscle twitched in her friends jaw.
"I've been investigating a sex trafficking ring," he looked at her then and Angelica fought the icy shiver that danced down her spine.
The Moretti's were well known for their trade in human flesh.
"You're not after the minor wheels in this operation, are you?" It was a question, but one she didn't need an answer to.
Angelica rubbed her jaw, a habit she had whenever she weighing her options.
"This Edmond – he's the master machinery for the ring?"
Steve nodded.
"He wasn't after me – he wanted Kayla because Kayla would guarantee him leverage over you." She was thinking out loud.
She looked up at her friend, "You need back-up."
He nodded.
Angelica knew she would be there for him but he needed to know just how far and well known this operation was.
She took a deep breath, "I got a call from the brass yesterday."
He raised an eyebrow, "Oh? How'd that go for you?"
She frowned, "How do you think?"
"That good, huh?" he teased.
She grinned, "You do realize the brass wants you dead?"
He shrugged, "They want you to do the honors?" he asked.
She nodded.
"So what are you going to do?
Angelica smiled. The plan was risky, but….
"I'm going to kill you."
