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

for our six-month anniversary. Those heels cost close to two grand, and honestly, I just assumed they were knockoffs. But when I pawned them, after I kicked his sorry ass out, the shop owner told me they were authentic.”

Amelia pulled a battered notepad and pen from the inner pocket of her handbag. With a click, she scribbled down an approximate summary of Wendy’s response. “What about vacations? Anything like that?”

Wendy nodded. “Yeah. We went to all sorts of different places when we were dating. Vegas, New York, even Ireland. I asked him how he could afford it, and he just said that he’d been living cheaply and saving money for years.” She tapped herself on the chest with her free hand. “I’m a real estate agent, and I’ve been lucky enough to get in on the ground floor of a pretty successful agency, but even I can’t afford stuff like that.”

Flipping to a fresh page, Amelia mulled over her next question. “A minute ago, you mentioned Russel was friends with cops. Can you remember any of their names?”

She stared into the distance before finally shaking her head. “No. He just mentioned them by their first names a few times. Liam was one of them, and I think Ian might have been another? Maybe not. I can’t really remember. He didn’t talk about them much. I just knew they were friends. They went out for drinks sometimes.”

Amelia bit down on her tongue to keep from spitting out a string of obscenities that would have brought a flush to a sailor’s cheeks.

Ian.

She knew of a CPD detective named Ian. A man who’d allegedly been shot and killed by one of Alex Passarelli’s lieutenants.

Her heart hammered against her chest as she scrawled out the two names. Liam. Ian.

“Okay.” As Amelia tucked the onslaught of paranoia into the back of her mind, she closed the notepad and retrieved a business card. “I think that’s all the questions I had.” She glanced to Joseph. “Agent Larson?”

“Yeah.” As Joseph pulled out his own card, his eyes were distant, almost like he’d been awoken from a trance. “That’s all I had too. Ms. Truesdell, thank you very much for your time.”

Wendy’s gaze shifted between Amelia and Joseph. “Yeah, you’re welcome. I hope this helps you lock that prick up in a cage for the rest of his life.”

Me and you both.

Amelia kept the thought to herself and slid her card along the breakfast bar. “We’ll do our best. If you think of anything else, even if it seems like it might be trivial, please, give one of us a call. The same goes for Mr. Ulmer or one of his CPD friends contacting you. We have no reason to think that either you or your daughter are at risk, but if that changes, we’ll let you know as soon as possible.”

“Okay. I will.” Wendy squared her jaw. “Good luck, Agents.”

After a handshake and a couple polite goodbyes, Amelia and Joseph let themselves back out into the sunlight.

As Amelia took her spot in the passenger seat, she waited for Joseph to close his door before she spoke. “How much do you want to bet that the Leónes have some kind of blackmail on our pal Russel?”

Shaking his head, Joseph snorted. “That’s a sucker’s bet. Sure seems like the Leónes have a thing for pedophiles, though. First Dalessio, now this CO.”

“Yeah, it’s really starting to look like that.” The engine hummed to life, and Amelia fastened her seat belt. “We were looking for a CO who’d either been paid off or blackmailed, but from the sounds of it, Russel could’ve been both.”

Joseph’s pale blue eyes met hers. “But both are circumstantial, at least so far.”

Why was he arguing? Circumstantial or not, they had something to work with. That should have him champing at the bit. Amelia groaned with frustration. “I know, but at least now we have a name to follow up on as a prime subject.”

Shifting the car into gear, Joseph shrugged. “True. We didn’t have either of those when we interviewed Waylon yesterday.”

Amelia tapped an index finger against her bottom lip. Was he being dense on purpose, or did he really not feel this was a solid lead to follow up on? “So…are we headed to MCC? We might be able to get this guy to say something useful now that we know who the CO is that helped him.”

A faint smirk flitted across Joseph’s face. “Only one way to find out.”

Finally, he seemed to be catching on. But the smirk she could do without seeing. Amelia turned her gaze outside of the car, nodded absently as she fixated on the two names Wendy had given them. The names of Russel’s cop friends.

Sure, Ian was a common name, and Amelia was sure there were plenty of Ians among the ranks of the Chicago Police Department. Detectives, beat cops, sergeants, not to mention all the different sub-branches of each department.

In a city the size of Chicago, the odds that Russel Ulmer just happened to be friends with Ian Strausbaugh were astronomical.

But the odds that one Leóne affiliate was friends with another Leóne affiliate were much better.

If Ian was on the Leónes’ payroll, then why would the family have decided to kill him just for a chance to bring down a D’Amato lieutenant from a years-old spat? As a tenured homicide detective, Ian would have been a valuable asset.

Had Ian turned on them? Had he overstepped his bounds with the notorious crime family?

Or was Ian like Carlo—a loose end?

18

As Joseph strode to the end of a short hall just off the lobby of MCC Chicago, he cast one last glance over his shoulder before he shoved open the door to the men’s room. Fortunately for him, a federal prison wasn’t bustling with visitors at eleven on a weekday morning.

After he knelt for a cursory check of the three stalls, he made his way down the line and kicked open the door of each for good measure. Satisfied he