Storm's Cage Mary Stone (classic reads .TXT) 📖

was alone, he reached into the pocket of his black slacks to retrieve a slim flip phone.

For the duration of the half-hour drive to downtown Chicago, Joseph had contemplated what he should do about Russel Ulmer. He hoped the Leóne man who’d given Ulmer the order to take out Carlo Enrico had covered his tracks, but lately, the Leónes hadn’t done a great job at keeping themselves out of the spotlight.

Joseph couldn’t say for sure how valuable an asset Ulmer had become, but with all the information Amelia had uncovered, the CO would soon be a liability.

As Brian Kolthoff’s words echoed through his head, he knew what had to be done.

If Amelia or the Bureau caught up to Russel, the sick bastard would most likely roll over in exchange for leniency. The testimony of a peripheral associate like Ulmer might not take the FBI far into the family’s operation, but it would certainly put the spotlight back on the Leónes.

With a single phone call from Joseph, the Leónes could snatch Russel out from under the FBI’s nose and stash him underground—figuratively, but maybe literally. Once the pressure for the Bureau to find him died down, Ulmer could buy himself a new identity and disappear.

But Joseph knew once Russel found a new city to call home, he’d find a new ten-year-old girl to rape. A new family to rip apart. A new life to ruin.

Just like a man named Sawyer Kastner had done to Joseph’s family twenty-five years earlier.

This was the price of Joseph’s loyalty to Stan Young. Letting men like Russel Ulmer go free, so they could find new victims.

Gritting his teeth, Joseph hovered his thumb over the green key that would dial the number of a Leóne capo, Joe Dalessio. Alton Dalessio’s cousin.

He didn’t have a choice. He had to contact the Leónes, but he’d make sure he got a word in with Russel Ulmer before Joe sent him on his merry way.

Before his thoughts could take off back to the realm of uncertainty, Joseph pressed a button and raised the phone to his ear.

Joe’s gravelly voice came to life over the line after the second ring. “Yeah?”

“I don’t have much time, so listen up.”

Joseph swore he could almost hear the creak of an office chair and a hand slamming down on a wooden desk.

“What do you have for me?” Joe’s words came out on the back of a tense breath.

Joseph swallowed the bitterness in his throat and forced the words past his lips. “There’s a good chance that one of your CO contacts at MCC Chicago is about to be taken in by the FBI. The guy who handled Enrico, Russel Ulmer. There’s no hard evidence to tie him to the murder yet, but I suggest you go find him before there is. He isn’t scheduled to work today, so it shouldn’t be hard to get to him before the cops do.”

“Shit,” Joe spat. “Okay. I’ll handle it.”

“One more thing.” Joseph clenched his free hand into a fist. “When you’ve got him somewhere safe, call me. I need to speak with him.”

“You understand this is not how we handle things, right?” Joe’s tone soured. “We have our own way of managing family affairs.”

“Quid pro quo. I think that deserves a little appreciation, don’t you?” Joseph shouldn’t have to spell out the obvious, but as Joe had already been told that playing nice was in The Shark’s, and by extension Stan Young’s, best interest, he gritted his teeth and kept his tone congenial.

Joe groaned through the phone. “Fine. If I must.”

“Good. ‘Til then.”

Snapping the phone closed, Joseph glared at the nearest stall as if the door was responsible for the turmoil in his mind. He wasn’t sure how long he held the pose, and if he hadn’t heard the creak of hinges, he wasn’t sure how long he would have stayed there. Jerking himself from the reverie, he turned to face the newly arrived corrections officer.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Joseph went through the motions to wash his hands before he let himself out into the hall.

If Amelia wanted to get to Russel before the Leónes, she would have to act fast.

Hearing the bathroom door open, Amelia stuffed her phone in the side pocket of her purse and stood.

Joseph emerged with an expression on his face that she could only describe as defeat.

What the hell had he been doing in there?

Though her ever-present sense of curiosity insisted she ask him about the obvious strain in his expression, she smacked the idea aside as soon as it formed. They were in the lobby of a federal prison, about to interview a man who’d murdered a key witness. Not the time. Not the place for personal business. Even if they’d been back in the relative comfort of the FBI office, she had no desire to strike up any sort of personal conversation with Joseph Larson.

Maybe he lost all his progress in Candy Crush. She almost snorted at the thought but bit her tongue to ward off the moment of amusement.

By the time Joseph had closed the distance between them, whatever moment of hardship he’d faced had all but vanished.

Amelia ignored the slew of sarcastic Candy Crush comments that flitted through her head. “Ready?” She shouldered her purse and waved a hand toward the corrections officer waiting to escort them.

Joseph cleared his throat. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

They followed the CO through a security checkpoint and handed over their service weapons before being led to an interview room. Fortunately, they didn’t have to travel to the third floor like Amelia and Zane had done for their meeting with Carlo.

As a harsh buzz sounded out overhead, the guard pulled open a heavy metal door and waited for Amelia and Joseph to step into the cramped space.

The CO’s dark eyes flicked from Amelia to Joseph. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Joseph pointed to a series of heavily tinted panes of glass across the hall. “Monitor us from there. My partner and I