Storm's Cage by Mary Stone (uplifting novels .TXT) 📕

Amelia couldn’t shake the idea that Joseph was following her as she drove out from the parking garage. The thoughts plagued her for almost the entire drive home, and she’d finally eased the spell of anxiety as she pulled into her assigned parking spot behind the apartment building. As she double-checked the contents of her handbag, groping beneath a pair of heavy wool mittens, she pulled out her phone.

She’d left it on silent for most of the day, dreading the messages that would be waiting. But curiosity got the better of her, and she quickly tapped the screen, bringing the little phone to life.

A couple of missed calls from unlisted numbers. That was to be expected. But it was the text alert that had her groaning internally. Alex’s name stared back at her with one unread message. She hadn’t spoken to him since their last meeting.

Unsure how she felt at seeing his name, she opened the message.

Call me, please. I need to talk to you.

The revelation that Trevor had been killed while in the middle of an off-the-books investigation into Gianna Passarelli’s kidnapping hadn’t plagued her mind while she struggled to navigate the awkward dynamic of working with Joseph.

It threatened to plague her now.

“One thing at a time, Amelia.”

Though she was tempted to text him back, she pulled her big girl panties up instead and jabbed the green call button. The conversation would be over faster if she just called.

The line clicked to life before the second ring. “Yeah?”

She hated that his voice still brought up memories of their time together. A decade had passed, but that calm baritone she’d loved so much back then hadn’t changed.

Everything else had changed, though. They were hardly friends anymore, let alone lovers. As fondly as she remembered those years, any sense of contentment now was nothing more than a memory.

All she had to do was picture Alex’s father, Luca Passarelli, and the pseudo-affection disappeared.

Amelia tapped her thumb on the steering wheel, needing the movement to settle her nerves. “You wanted to talk to me?”

The rustle of wind followed, and then the hiss of a sliding glass door. “You got my message?”

This was not the night for long, drawn-out conversations, not with Alex or anyone else. She groaned internally, needing to speed things up and get to the point. “That’s why I’m calling you.” She’d tried to conceal the annoyance from her tone but wasn’t sure how successful she’d been.

“Right, yeah, I guess so.”

He said nothing else, and the silence went on for so long that Amelia pulled the phone away from her ear, checking that the call hadn’t disconnected. Seconds still ticked away on the call timer. “Alex? Hello?”

His response was almost immediate. “I’m still here. I…I need to talk to you about something, but not on the phone. I need your help.”

Her jaw clenched of its own accord. “My help? What the hell for? You don’t pay me, remember? I—”

“I know, but just hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“Not here. Can you meet me?”

Of course, he would ask that. The last thing she wanted to do at that moment was get back into her car and face traffic. Why couldn’t he just be a normal guy who could drop by her place when he needed to ask a favor? “I’m not driving forty-five minutes to the edge of town, and I’m not driving forty-five minutes to downtown.”

“That’s fine. I’ve got somewhere we can meet. It’s a halfway point for both of us. I’ll text you the location. Can you leave now?”

Great. Amelia bit back the sarcastic reply. “Okay. Fine.”

“I’ll see you there. Stay safe.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Ending the call, Amelia closed her eyes until the phone buzzed in her hands with the promised location. So much for her plans to enjoy a night free from Joseph Larson and the tedious research they’d slogged through for the past five days.

As much as she wanted to tell Alex to go fly a kite, she was pointedly aware that he knew far more about the days and weeks leading up to Trevor’s death than the FBI or the Chicago Police Department.

Amelia didn’t want to become a D’Amato lackey, but she did want to learn the full truth about what had happened to her brother. She’d reviewed Trevor’s case and vetted the two detectives who’d conducted the investigation, but now that she knew how deeply Trevor had been involved with the D’Amatos, the narrative had changed.

And if she wanted any hope of unraveling the secrets she knew were buried with her brother, she’d be best served by maintaining a good standing with Alex and his cohorts.

The line she walked was dangerous, but she’d be damned if her history with Alex turned her into another D’Amato puppet.

She owed that family nothing, and she’d use them just like they’d used her brother.

The drone of traffic overhead drowned out the hum of the approaching car’s engine, but as Alex spotted the familiar black sedan, his posture relaxed. He’d parked beside one of two massive cement pylons that supported the busy expressway overhead. A steep incline between the columns was covered with drab stones of varying sizes—everything from pebbles to boulders half the size of Alex’s car.

He’d spent the time waiting for Amelia to arrive in observation. His keen eyes scrutinizing every shadow of the cement landscape, Alex felt confident that neither he nor Amelia were being watched. A handful of homeless people milled about on the opposite side of the overpass, but their presence was expected. This wasn’t Alex’s first trip to the overpass, and he doubted it’d be his last.

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the rear fender of his car as Amelia’s came to a stop beside his. When she emerged from the driver’s side, the waning sunlight cast a long shadow of her willowy frame. Pulling her windblown hair into a low ponytail, she made her way around the back of the sedan.

After their turbulent meeting in Adams Park, Alex had