Chapter Thirty-Five

"Don't you simply love the feeling of the summer sun on your skin? Especially on a day like this? So peaceful, so warm. Don't have to worry about a damn thing until the day after tomorrow—This, my friends, is my kind of relaxation."

Leah adjusted her sunglasses, further blocking the sun's rays from her eyes. She had a bright smile on her face. "It is nice," she remarked. "And the burn. I love the burn. And the tans. Nothing like a good tan."

It was a particularly hot July Saturday, perfect for a trip to the lakeshore. Leah was laid out on her beach towel, resting her head on her folded hands. To her right was Aisha, lying on her stomach, also seeking a nice tan. To her left was Bella, sitting up with her legs folded pretzel-style, digging into her bag for her prized sunblock lotion.

"Speak for yourselves. SPF-50 for me or else I turn into a painful tomato with peeling skin. Everywhere."

Aisha turned her head in Bella's direction. "You're not that pale," she argued with a chuckle.

"I'm pale enough," Bella returned, squeezing the sunblock into the palm of her hands. She honestly didn't need any more; she had slathered enough of it less than an hour ago. "I would get SPF-75, but I feel like some Vitamin D would do me some good."

Aisha lifted an eyebrow and smirked. "Would it?"

Leah snorted.

"Of course," Bella said, not catching onto Aisha's sly comment. "It's great for your immunity…" she then trailed off, face flushed. "Wow, you literally have the imagination of a fifteen-year-old boy, and you're supposed to be one of Chicago's Finest—Leah, stop laughing."

Leah tried her best but to no avail.

Bella rolled her eyes as she smoothed some lotion on her arms. "You two are horrible. I can't believe I call you, two, my friends."

"It's just too easy," Aisha teased.

"Anyway." Bella tossed the bottle into her bag and finally laid down. "Miami. Labor Day Weekend. Are we doing this?"

"Weren't you just complaining about the sun?"

"But it's Miami," Bella stressed, giving Leah a bright smile. "There are more things to do there besides going to the beach. There's Little Haiti, Little Havana, and maybe we can go the Keys."

"Oh, I'm so down," Aisha said with a loud clap. "I need a vacation like you wouldn't believe. Problem: can this city handle all of us gone at the same time?"

"I appreciate how important you think we are," Leah remarked.

"I'm not being funny. If you haven't noticed, this city's been, as my 10-year-old niece would say, lit since last January."

"Point."

"CPD will be fine," Bella insisted with a dismissive wave. "The Office of the Medical Examiner will be fine."

"For how many days, Bella?" Leah asked. Miami did sound nice, even if she had been there plenty of times before. The last time she visited, she was spending a romantic anniversary weekend with her then-husband. She wouldn't mind replacing that moment with something much more pleasant. With people who had never crushed her heart.

Bella slightly sat up, leaning back on her elbows. "Labor Day Weekend and return on Labor Day."

Leah nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

"Two vacations, Leah?" Aisha asked. "You sure Paul's going to sign off on that?"

"LA isn't until October," Leah said with a smirk. She breathed in the warm, lake-side air; she could stay on this shore forever. "He'll live."

Bella perked up. "Since when are you going to LA? I want to go to LA."

"Well, you can't go on this one, Bella," Aisha said before Leah could say anything. She had a mischievous glint in her eye that only Leah, thank goodness, could see. "Leah's going with only a plus-one, a spot currently taken by her new Travel Buddy."

"Ah, yes, of course, can't mess that up."

Leah gave her friends a dirty look. They thought they were slick. "Shut up."

Aisha and Bella laughed.

"I got a present for you," Embry announced in a sweet-song voice that reminded Leah of a way-too-happy Disney Princess (or prince). Much to Jacob's annoyance, the aspiring detective pushed aside the actual detectives across the desk and sat down on the cleared spot. He had a large envelope in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face. "I'm telling you, I may get a promotion out of this."

Leah rubbed her hands together in anticipation while Jacob casted an unimpressed look onto Embry. "This better be good," he said.

In lieu of a response, Embry dropped the contents of the envelope onto the desk—it was Nokia. An old-school flip phone. Black in color and without any juice. When the detectives gave him a curious look, Embry explained, "Gianna Castellano's mother stopped by earlier, in disguise, of obvious reasons, and delivered this wonderful thing." He pointed at the device. "She found inside her daughter's old closet. Apparently, the mother's planning on moving Nebraska next month. Where life is simpler. Which I definitely get, because damn—"

"Shut up," Leah demanded, bringing a hand to her mouth. "Is that a burner?"

Embry's grin grew even wider if that was possible. "Sure looks like one, doesn't it?"

The detectives faced each other, expression both full of amazement and excitement. Jacob then looked down at the phone on his table. "Where was this found?"

"Like I said, inside Gianna's old closet. I think the mom found in an old box hidden inside the floor. So, my guess…"

"Gianna was hiding it," Leah concluded. "So, it is a burner phone."

"But aren't burner phones supposed to be used and disposed of," Jacob pointed out. "Why would Gianna keep the phone there?"

"Who's going to check there beside her mom, who's about to move out?" Embry shrugged. "And this can still be considered a burner phone. Maybe Gianna was keeping it for a reason? Either way, the phone barely had any juice when Mrs. Castellano dropped it off, but I managed to the phone number before it died—the phone's so out of date that no one sells its charger anymore."

"Run the number," Leah requested. "And see if we can get some phone records."

"Already did. Should get a response by the end of the week, the latest." Then Embry smirked. The turnaround time was shorter than usual. "I know a lady."

Jacob leaned back in his seat and chuckled, "Does your girlfriend know about this lady?"

Leah bit back a laugh from Embry's flailing. "Now, why you gotta do that?" Embry demanded as Jacob still chuckled. "You know it's not like that. I'm a changed man. See, I have something good going on, and now, you're trying to get me in trouble." He shook his head. "Some alpha, you are…"

Jacob couldn't stop laughing, not even when Leah shot him a look of disapproval. Rolling her eyes, she turned to the younger cop and smiled at him, "Thank you, Embry," she said softly. "And I hope you get a promotion someday. Ignore Jacob. He can be mature for so long."

Jacob drew in a sharp breath. "Seriously?"

Leah shrugged.

"You're welcome, Detective Clearwater," Embry said, giving Jacob a smug look. He slid off the detective's desk. "At least someone appreciates my work." He then plucked a tissue from the tissue box on Leah's desk and used the napkin to transferred the phone back into the envelope. He sealed it closed. "Gotta drop this off at Evidence. Let you know if anything comes up."

"Thanks, man," Jacob called out, dropping the taunting act, as he and Leah watched Embry leave. "Really appreciated it!"

Embry turned around and, with a wide grin, put two thumbs up.

Later that afternoon, Leah and Jacob traveled to Cicero, a suburb of Chicago and the location of the infamous Napolitano's. They were to meet Jacob's police contact and longtime friend, Detective Milano, at a local diner where, according to said-friend, had "the best damn pies in the best damn state". Leah, being an avid pie-lover herself, was excited about the prospect.

And of course, any information Milano had to provide.

"I don't understand, Black. You used to be better than this. You used to understand when someone gives you a specific time, you arrive five minutes early. How are you this late? We agreed to half-past two; it's now seven to three… Is this how you folks in the big city operate?"

Leah lowly chuckled at Milano's attempts to express his disappointment. Jacob gave the man on the other side the finger before sliding into the booth, leaving room for his highly amused partner. "There was a major accident on 290," he snarked. "What the hell did you expect me to do? Drive along the shoulder the entire time?"

Milano shrugged as he cut himself a piece of his cherry pie. "You could've," he replied with a smirk and then turned his attention to Leah. "I don't think we've ever met." He held out his free hand. "Detective Sal Milano of Cicero PD."

Leah shook the detective's hand. "Detective Leah Clearwater of Chicago PD." She jerked her head in Jacob's direction. "His partner."

Milano grinned. "Leah Clearwater, finally nice to meet you in person." He nodded. "Jacob talks about you all the time: gushes about how wonderful of a detective you are, how lucky he is to have a partner like you…"

Jacob grunted. "Oh, shut the hell up."

Leah and Milano shared a look and then laughed.

"No, no, keep on going," Leah insisted, flashing her partner a grin. Despite his tough-guy act, he was clearly embarrassed. "I didn't think you thought so highly of me, Black?" She put a hand to her chest. "I'll cherish this moment forever."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Can we just get work?"

"Aren't you a little testy today?"Milano laughed. "Detective Clearwater, tell me you're not a pie-hater like your partner over here."

"Of course not." Leah folded her hands over the heart. "I love pies. Blueberry pie, peach pie, key lime pie, sweet potato pie…"

Milano dropped his fork and clapped. "Good. I'm telling you, this place has best damn pies in the damn state." He then called over a waitress from the booth behind him. "Dolly, get this lovely lady a slice of peach pie… And for my friend, yeah, the grumpy one, get him a slice of carrot cake. Be generous with the whipped cream. And a round of coffee."

Dolly quickly wrote down the order. "You got it, Sal," she said with a nod. "Be back in a few."

"I hope you know you're buying," Jacob said the moment Dolly left. Despite his so-called grumpy demeanor, his eyes displayed something else entirely different. He was just messing around the other detective. "You owe me."

Milano shrugged off Jacob's comment and turned to Leah. "Is he always like this?"

Leah couldn't fight her grin. "Sometimes."

Teasing Jacob had its advantages, including giving them ample opportunity to joke around on the job.

Jacob tossed up his hands. "Are you two seriously ganging up on me?"

"I just answer a question, Black," Leah snarked. "No need to get so testy."

Jacob sent Leah a sharp look.

Leah just shrugged, which seemed to egg on Milano even more. "I like her," he said. "She's just as immune to your death glares as I am—And about what I supposedly owe you: I'm about to give you some damn good info. Trust me, I won't have to owe you a damn thing after this conversation."

Yes, that was precisely what Leah wanted to hear.

Jacob finally relaxed in his seat, dropping his annoyed-act. "So, what's up?"

Milano glanced up as he cut another piece of the dessert. "For one, you and your colleagues opened a goddamn can of radioactive worms…" He trailed off as Dolly delivered their orders. After thanking the waitress and waiting for her to retreat to a safe distance, he carried on, "Your city isn't the place affected by this mess." He shook his head. "All because of one murder."

"That's all it takes, sometimes," Jacob said, adding cream and sugar into his drink. "You should've been at the scene. One look and you knew that case wasn't gonna end anytime soon."

Milano snorted. "I'm glad I wasn't there."

"What is your leadership saying about this case?" Leah wondered.

"Keep everything quiet," Milano said. He took another bite of his dessert. "They're not shutting down anything, but they don't want the noise. We've tried going after Napolitano's in the past, always fell through. I can't even tell you how many times we've been threatened with a lawsuit by the owners."

Leah nodded along with her partner. She knew from experience how lawsuits could hinder an investigation. "At least, they're not scrapping the whole thing," she remarked. "And I think it's wise to lay low on your part. It's getting crazy back at home."

Milano nodded. "Crazy than usual?" he joked, and then sighed, "Napolitano's been in this town since the Capone days. The owners, even before Illinois became a state, traveled up from New Orleans into this place… They have a solid foundation in this place, and it won't crumble unless on their own terms."

"When do you think that's gonna happen?" Jacob asked.

"Sooner than you think," Milano said. "They're moving."

"Where?" Leah asked before consuming a piece of her own pie. Milano wasn't kidding; this was good.

"Setting up operations in Tacoma, Washington. I think the heat's getting to them."

"When are they closing shop?" Jacob asked.

"By October. Interestingly enough, their building hasn't been placed on the market; if they're planning on selling it, they need to do it soon. We also think they're going to try to level the place. I mean, they can. That's their land."

Jacob ran a hand down his face. "Shit."

"Also, word of advice: you'd want to snatch those guys up before they head out west," Milano said. "I heard through the grapevine that they have a lot of politicians and police departments in their pockets. Even the Bureau's having a tough time out there."

"Still causing havoc," Leah mumbled. "All the way from across the pond…"

"Checked up on Jackie Chan." Milano pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper and handed it over to Jacob. "There's not much on him. Everything we found stops a few years ago. It's like he dropped off the place of the planet after October 2016."

"But he didn't," Jacob said, skimming the page. He then handed it over to his partner. "He's ID'd in a picture from this past February."

"This says he worked as an assistant manager to a gas station," Leah said. "He didn't work at Napolitano's?"

Milano shrugged. "It's possible to do both," he said. "We've known of many who got paid under the table, but…" He cleared his throat and leaned over the table, dropping his voice. "We've tried to subpoena the firm's books, but the judge wouldn't accept it. We've tried nearly everything, but, what could one expect from a friend of Sorio?"

Leah and Jacob shared a look.

"Oh, boy," Leah said.

"Yeah, I know." Milano sighed, retreating into an upright position. "Our hands are even more tied than yours. The investigation into Gianna's disappearance, according to the police chief, is nothing more than a side project. Thankfully, I don't have much else going on, so…"

"Thanks, man," Jacob said. "So, you can't get into Napolitano's at all?"

Milano shook his head. "Not anymore. After we've executed a subpoena for the firm's electronics, the owners pitched the biggest fit I've ever seen. Unlawful search and seizure, that was their claim. I'm talking about the Fourth Amendment. They were about to take it up with the feds."

"It's called probable cause," Leah remarked.

Milano snorted. "Do you know how much they pay their lawyers?"

Leah cleared her throat before taking a sip out of her coffee. She didn't need to answer Milano's question. The more money one had, the more infuriating their defense attorney was.

"Who are these owners?" Jacob asked.

"Unofficially or officially."

Jacob smirked. "You know we love the unofficial story."

Milano blew out a long breath as he looked around the diner. No one was paying attention to the detectives, thanks to a sensational news story being presented on the television hanging above the counter. "The mafia," he said in the lowest voice possible. "Like the actual mafia with direct ties to Sicily and Volterra."

Leah and Jacob nodded at each other.

The Volturi.

"The official?" Leah asked.

"The name on the deed is Vannozza Lombardi," Milano said. "Not much from her either besides being a former housewife and back in the '80s, her entire family—husband and three kids—died in this terrible accident off the coast of Corsica. She's currently in a special care home down in Florida. Eighty-seven and suffers from Alzheimer's."

"Is there any link to the mafia?"

"Not that I can find. We did checks on everyone," Milano said. "Now, the power of attorney for Mrs. Lombardi is interesting. We don't know who that person is. Not even the court."

"How the fuck is that possible?"

"Black, I can't even tell you the amount of shit that goes around here. First power of attorney was someone you knew very well, Demetri Karlov. But as you know, he got killed. No, sorry, completed suicide. Second power of attorney was Giuseppe Lorenzo; died from a heart attack in December; everyone but the coroner knows it was poison. The current power of attorney is Marco Romano—"

"That's a name," Leah remarked, giving the other detectives a pointed look.

"Yeah, the problem is that it's mostly a fraudulent one," Milano said. "Got a tip on that from a source."

Jacob frowned. "Don't people worry about perjury?"

"You'd like to think, but money and complacency talk," Milano replied, before quickly adding, "But, don't fret, my friends, I have something up my sleeve so if everything works out, by next month, I should have an official name."

"Is this all you had to tell us?" Jacob asked.

Milano shook his head. He finished the last of his dessert, washed it down with some black coffee, and said, "I don't like to blame the victim, but Gianna was a goddamn fool. I found out from a source that she double-crossed not one gang, but two. At the same time. While trying to establish her own version of a Silk Road."

"And how is that?"

"By doing so the old-fashioned way. Create a trucking company and using it as a front for illegal activity… Something about the light?" Milano shook his head. "She also used to mess around with Mr. I-Committed-Suicide—it wasn't a love-thing. It was a power move, trying to move up top."

"She thought that sleeping her way up the ladder was going to work?"

"It's happened before," Leah remarked. "Many times before."

"But she was an outsider," Milano pointed out. "No matter how much 'sleeping around' there was, she was not going to be on top."

Jacob leaned forward. "About this trucking company…"

"Gianna was reportedly very interested in the transport-aspect of Napolitano's—a firm that no one knows what it specializes in. On the website, it's an accounting firm. But in reality… no one really knows. Even when we executed our first warrant, we couldn't figure it out. Anyway, she was involved in shipping and was pretty damn good at it… that's where she got in trouble."

"Selling trade secrets," Jacob deduced.

"I heard she was in cahoots with your Dahlia."

"Yeah," Leah confirmed. "But we don't have proof."

Milano nodded. "You know, Gianna's final resting place used to confuse the hell out of me. I mean, if you want to get rid of someone, just dump 'em in the lake," he said. "Why a landfill? Where anyone can find her…eventually? What message are they sending?" He snapped his fingers. "And then I remembered: The Cullen family used to own land; sold it to the city back in the fifties. That family was always butting heads with the mob."

"We have reasons to believe that Gianna was killed the same night as Jessica Stanley, a known mistress of the late Carlisle Cullen," Leah said. "She was there. She saw the whole thing, the moment Jessica died. What happened after that, we have no idea."

"I can't tell you either," Milano said with a sigh. "And without getting into that place… We even reached out to a service provider about her emails. Nothing inflammatory."

"She was smart."

"Obviously not smart enough if she was stuffed into a garbage bag." Leah slid a piece of the delectable pie into her mouth. "Why did they find out?" she spoke while chewing. "Who talked?"

Milano cleared his throat. "Listen, I may be talking out of my ass, but have you thought of Jessica Stanley being the rat? I mean, to watch someone die like that? That takes a lot of hatred. Or psychopathy. Or both."

Jacob and Leah exchanged an incredulous look before Jacob asked the same question that entered Leah's mind, "You think Gianna knew?"

Milano shrugged with both hands up. "I think she may have gone along with her boy-toy's plan to get her back into his and his mob family's good graces… But as I said, I had a long day, and I may be talking out of my ass."

Leah didn't think he was.

"I thought the Dahlia's case was closed?" Martinez asked, watching Leah as she connected onto the investigative board a fabric string from Gianna's picture to Jessica's.

"It was never closed," Leah maintained, taking a step back. Damn, they needed a bigger standing corkboard. "Just put on hold for the foreseeable future." She turned to her partner, who was sitting on the edge of a desk behind her. "I think your friend from Cicero PD may be onto something."

Jacob nodded. "It would explain Gianna's interesting demeanor in that hidden video your favorite source gave us," he said. "She was so smug about everything, near to the point of excitement… until the very end."

"Are you implying that she wanted Jessica to die?" Martinez carefully asked. "Also, have we established what exactly happened after Jessica received the lethal bite? How on earth did she end up chopped up?"

"No, we have not," Leah said, turning around so that her back was facing the board. She shoved her hands into her pockets before moving to sit next to Jacob. "We could say Demetri did it, but the work is too difficult to be done by one person in such a short amount of time. Others had to be involved."

"The same people who dropped Gianna off at her resting place?" Embry asked.

Jacob shook his head. "Nah. They only deposit trash, fully prepped. Not this."

Leah grimaced at her partner's choice words. The statement wasn't intentionally malicious, but… she didn't know. The thought of comparing Gianna to actual trash, fully prepped? Despite her killers' feelings, Gianna was still a human being. She had been someone's friend, someone's child… a loved one. Not trash.

"What if…" Leah spoke up after pondering for several seconds as her partner and the other detective tossed around ideas. "What if the same people who made that display of bones in Green Lawn was also involved in Jessica's mutilation? Maria's band of sicarios?"

Jacob cocked his head to the side as he stared at the investigation board. "Like Ben had said," he eventually said. "Sancho's a mean sonuvabitch." He turned to Martinez. "Hey, maybe you can have Jared check out Sancho's signature, his M.O—all of that. He's committed dozens of known murders before. See if the feds can provide some weird connection."

Martinez nodded. He grabbed a pen and a piece of paper to write down the relevant information. "Will do. Had to give that guy some work, anyway," he said. "Give me by the end of the day."

Jacob rubbed his chin. "So, if Sancho, indeed, did it…"

"Then the Voltutri's been using the Velasquez Cartel as their own band of mercenaries," Leah finished. The thought was daunting but not unbelievable. From all accounts, the cartel was about the money, and if one had a good amount of it, then previous agreements, be damned. The Velasquez wasn't the first or last criminal organization to do such a thing.

"Using another gang to cross off your hit list," Martinez snorted, shaking his head. "It's basically the vampire version of Murder Inc."

"All behind the Cullen's back," Leah followed. "So much decades-long loyalty."

"Haven't you heard, Clearwater?" Jacob asked with the roll of his eyes. Not at his partner, but at the increasing insanity that was this investigation. "It's just business."

"Booyah!"

Leah briefly looked up from her computer screen, not impressed by Embry's seemingly childish remark. "Booyah is not a word, Office Call," she replied, being purposely pretentious. She waited for Embry to take a seat behind Jacob's desk. Noticing a large envelope in the cop's hands, she asked, "What do you have for me?"

Embry couldn't contain his excitement; he was practically fidgeting in the chair, rubbing his hands together and grinning as if he had hit the biggest jackpot in his life. Leah couldn't tease him about it, though; it was nice to see someone still excited over police work. "Text messages found on the lovely Gianna Castellano's burn phone. Custody of the wonderful tech nerds downtown," he announced, waving the envelopment. "From September 2015 to January 2018."

Leah's eyes widened as her typing came to a stop. She stared at the envelope—Holy shit, he did hit the jackpot. She looked up at the younger cop. "Did you find anything useful?"

Embry leaned back in the seat, placing his hands behind his head. "I thought we should have a viewing party." He sat up and searched around the office space. "Where's our fearless alpha? He owes me twenty bucks."

Leah scoffed. One would think Jacob had learned his lesson about placing bets since their last UNO game. "For what now?"

Embry smirked. "For underestimating my ability to persuade the CPD's Geek Squad to hand over these docs by the end of this week," he said. "Usually, it takes ten business days."

Leah nodded, understanding. She then glanced to her right where she could Jacob emerge from one on of the hallways; he was heading her way. Good. "Your contact came through," she said with a smile.

"She sure did," Embry replied. Seconds later, he clapped. "Ah, there he is," he announced, speaking of Jacob, who now stood a couple of feet away with him, not too pleased about his seat being taken.

Jacob crossed his arms. "Get out my chair, Call."

"Aren't you missing a preposition, Black?" Embry taunted with an extremely obnoxious grin. "An of?" When Jacob picked up a stray banana off of his desk and tossed it at Embry's face, the younger cop put his hands up in submission. "Okay, okay, okay, violence is not tolerated in the workplace." He hopped out of the seat and made a sweeping gesture at the chair. "For you, my Lord."

Leah snorted as Jacob finally took his seat. After Embry pulled up a chair from an empty desk, Jacob pointed at the envelope and asked, curious, "What's that?"

"We're having a viewing party, featuring Gianna's text messages," Leah explained. "And you owe Embry twenty bucks."

Jacob lifted an eyebrow.

Embry slammed a hand on the table. "Booyah!" he shouted, excited until he caught sight of Leah's look of disapproval. He gulped a couple of times. "Sorry."

Jacob glanced between his partner and the younger cop, confused. "What are you—" He stopped and then pointed at Embry. "It was a joke!"

"The handshake we shared suggested otherwise."

Leah fought back a chuckle; she loved when Jacob and Embry engaged in their squabbles. Honestly, Jacob had no one to blame but himself for losing money yet again. "Jacob, just give him his money," she softly implored.

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Fine," he grumbled, pulling out his wallet. Seconds later, he tossed a twenty-dollar bill at the smirking Embry. "Let's get this viewing party started, shall we?"

Leah whole-heartedly agreed.

Embry clapped and then opened the envelope. He pulled out the pages (with large font, thank goodness) and displayed on the cleared desk place. He pointed to one of them. "I'd put more focus on the few months leading up to Gianna's death," he suggested. "Like this one, October 9, 2019: I except five-large for my services. All in cash. Cleaned. Same dropping spot."

"I assume by services, she meant sharing information?" Leah asked.

Embry nodded. "You can safely assume that."

"Clean cash? Only cash?" Jacob needed, impressed. "Well, she wasn't dumb."

"She wasn't too bright, either," Embry argued. "C'mon, why did she think she was going to get away with fucking the Volturi over?"

"True, but I do find it hard to believe that this is the same girl who accepted only ten grand from the Cullens in exchange for information," Leah said. "Maybe there was another incentive?"

"They probably offered to turn her into one of them," Embry joked, but then again, the suggestion wasn't that far fetched. Both Gianna and Jessica had seemingly been obsessively interested in turning into a vampire.

Jacob shook his head. "I honestly don't understand the obsession."

"Immortality is enticing," Leah remarked. "But then again, from all accounts, Rosalie doesn't seem too thrilled about being one. Like everything, vampirism has its downsides—What about this phone number?"

She was referring to the number who had received Gianna's text. The detective couldn't recognize the area code.

"No trace."

Jacob ran a hand down his face and groaned, "Of course, there isn't."

"Alright." Embry pointed at another text conversation. They were all mostly one-way. "October 14th: Like I said: don't worry about it. Everything's settled. Lock n' loaded. Watch for Midway next summer. You'd love it."

Jacob grabbed the page and examined it further. "That's Eric's number," he declared. "Holy fucking shit. She fucking told them. She told the Fangs about the contraband on that flight."

One year out.

Gianna had the heist in mind one year out.

"Read further," Embry suggested.

"Eric: how much you talking?" Jacob read aloud. "Gianna: Goodfellas." He sighed. "Gotta love mob-movie references—Eric: don't fuck us over. Gianna: when have I ever?" He looked up. "This girl had a bigger death wish than Jessica. I'm not too sure how that's possible."

Embry shrugged.

"So, this wasn't the first time she's interacted with the Fangs," Leah concluded. "That's one hundred percent a motive for murder. Question is: how did the Volturi find out? About Gianna's betrayal? About the heist from one year out?"

"Obviously someone talked," Embry said. "I'm putting my money on Demetri. Wasn't she heads over heels in love with the man? She probably thought she could trust him—Check this one out. January 2nd: It's me or her. I've been loyal from the beginning and def until the end. All she is an opportunist."

"Jessica," Jacob said. "She was referring to Jessica."

Embry nodded and carried on, "January 3rd: If you want to end everything, tell me and ride with you. One hour later: Let's give her a birthday surprise n' remind who's she's fucking with." He looked up. "No response to any of these texts, but they were received."

"January 15th was Jessica's birthday," Leah remarked. "She was found dead that night. On her birthday."

She shared a quick look with Jacob.

Holy.

Fuck.

Embry nodded again. "January 5th: I have arranged everything," he read. "Two hours later: Show her affection, don't give a shit. I'll join 2. Just reminder, only 2 will see the sunrise."

Jacob leaned back in his seat, stroking his chin. "So, let me get this straight: Gianna was setting up Jessica's death as she was being set up for her own death, as well?"

Embry cleared his throat. "Crazy, I know. But it sure seems like it."

"And the Volturi must've known," Leah added. "None of their underlings would breathe without the leaders' blessings. They must've given Demetri the green-light."

Embry tilted his head. "But why did Demetri tell them?"

"It was getting too hot for him, too?" Leah suggested with a shrug. "Maybe this was his version of C.Y.A?"

"But the gory display? How did Gianna arrange that?"

"Martinez is having Jared check-up on this Velasquez-linked Sicario," Jacob explained. "The name's Sancho Alvarez… yeah, that guy. There may be a link between Jessica's display and the plane robbers'."

"What about Gianna?" Embry asked. "I wouldn't call that gory one or weird."

Leah gathered the pages of text messages and compiled them into a neat pile. "No, it was just plain disrespectful," she said. "A complete disregard for a person's dignity. She was better off resting in the watery grave in Lake Michigan."

Aisha had to laugh when Leah informed her of Embry's newest findings later that afternoon during a stroll some blocks from the station. The friends were taking a short break from sitting at their desks and dealing with paper, meetings, and phone calls. "Did she really arrange one of the most infamous murders in this city's history over a man?" she asked, incredulous.

Leah shoved her hands into her pockets and let out a humorless chuckle. "What do you mean? Didn't you know Demetri Karlov was a catch?"

Aisha shook her head and snorted. "The man wasn't ugly and had money, but I'm getting sadistic, psycho vibes from him," she said. "I don't get it. He had like five-billion girlfriends. What made her think she was so special?"

"She was more than a one-night stand. To some, that means everything."

"That's sad… Did all of that only to get murdered hours later."

"Funny how life, or in this case, death works."

"So, this basically closed the Dahlia's case."

"Did it?" Leah asked, lifting an eyebrow. "Gianna might have been a co-conspirator, Demetri might have delivered the fatal bite, but there's still the mutilation."

"Maybe they did it?"

"Doubt it. Bella and Eric said that only someone with a medical background could've made those lacerations. Too neat and precise for an amateur... Come to find out, Sancho used to be a ship's surgeon and barber. Back in the Golden Age of Pirating, and then practiced medicine in Mexico until he was turned in the 1840s."

Aisha stood for a moment, tilting her head. "Sancho Alvarez is a vampire? As in the Sancho Alvarez?" When she received confirmation, she gulped. "Well, damn. From what I've heard about it, him and his boys are fucking insane. Like even more sadistic than Demetri. You got a good price for him, he'll do whatever the hell you want."

"Including cutting up your romantic rival," Leah said. "Leaving her for dead in a bloody heap."

"What happened to Gianna?"

"We have no idea," Leah admitted. "I mean, I guess, Demetri could've done the deed, but something tells me that's way too easy."

"He could've just been following orders," Aisha suggested, turning around to head back to the police station. "She died from a slit-throat; not that too hard for a seasoned killer to do."