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  “I’ve tried to avoid this,” Victoria jumped in, interlocking her fingers on the desktop. “But I think it’s time you pay a visit to Moretti and find out what he knows about the Black Stamp Serial Killer. That’s what the newspapers are calling the killer.”

  Lara felt her face contort into a blank slate. Thinking of talking to that man again made her blood run cold. Distancing herself from him and everything he had done was easy to do with him behind bars. Talking to Moretti in person—in prison, no less, thanks to her—was a different ballgame. He had become the head of a massive organization, running most of it off of fear. No matter her part in his and its downfall, seeing him was an intimidating thought.

  “I’d send the others, but, firstly, I don’t think he’d talk to them, and secondly, I’m not sure I’d believe anything he did say since we know how well he lies. You know that better than anyone.” Her expression softened. It didn’t last long. “And because you do know him, maybe he’ll betray himself somehow, even by his expression, and you can get something from him.” Lara shifted in her seat just thinking of being across from Moretti again after all of this time...”Listen, you’re the only one who managed to bring down the son of a bitch and his entire empire,” Victoria added. “His reaction to you might be interesting. So, let’s see where it leads.”

  “It’s leading to murder,” Lara reminded her boss. Victoria didn’t hesitate in her response.

  “It could be him behind everything so far. It could be anyone remotely connected to his organization pulling the strings. Either way, we need to find out.” She pulled her hands apart and shifted her gaze back to the papers she’d been looking at when Lara had walked in. “Now, go.”

  Just like that the conversation was over.

  * * *

  The farther she walked down the hallway, the colder her heart became. Whether it was fear or anger, she couldn’t tell. Each step closer to the meeting room, what made Lara, Lara became quickly encased by something she didn’t like. Something that made her want to stop following the guard in front of her and leave the federal maximum security prison in the dust. But she owed it to Tina Cole, Lara Bowman, Elizabeth Grant, Cass’s sister Allie and the many other victims to stop Moretti once and for all.

  “Agent Grant?”

  Lara’s gaze left her current point of fascination on the cinderblock wall beside them. She hadn’t realized they’d come to a door. The guard gave her a questioning look.

  “Are you?” he prompted again.

  “Excuse me?” Lara was so far into her own mind she’d missed what he’d said.

  “Are you ready?”

  The guard had no idea of who she was and how she was connected to the man he, among many others, was tasked with keeping locked up. He had no way of knowing the trepidation she was currently battling. His question was just a formality. So she gave him an equally formal reply.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The guard let her into a small room with stained concrete flooring and more badly paint-chipped walls. Horrible fluorescent bulbs buzzed overhead, doing nothing more than giving an already gloom-filled atmosphere more gusto. Lara took up a seat at one of three booths lining the wall.

  “I’ll be right outside the door,” the guard said. “Yell if you need anything. They should be bringing him in any minute now.”

  Lara thanked the man and watched as he shut the door behind him, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

  You can do this. He’s just a man. One locked behind many, many bars. You can do this, Lara. Pull it together.

  The sound of footsteps made her back go ramrod straight. For one wild moment she wondered how she looked. Would he see a difference now that she no longer was pretending to be Eve? Should she stand? Would that make her look more threatening? All of these questions were pushed out of her mind the instant the door opened. Lara held her breath.

  Moretti was movie-star gorgeous and charismatic as hell. Even in an orange jumpsuit.

  He was led in by a balding guard who probably had no real idea of just how dangerous his charge was. Dark, thick wavy hair and brown eyes almost black. In the right light it looked as if he had no pupil at all. Like peering into the eyes of a snake. Or maybe even the devil himself.

  Moretti met Lara’s stare with his own.

  The guard uncuffed him, and Moretti took his spot across from her. He didn’t sit down right away. Instead he lowered his gaze to her body before bringing it back up. A slow, calculating gesture that set Lara’s skin to ice. They each picked up their phones, the cord stretching as Moretti continued to stand.

  “You,” he said, voice like velvet. Lara didn’t respond. With just one word, he’d managed to intimidate her. How could one man be that powerful? His lips were downturned, and his nostrils were flared. He was angry. “I expected you, but a part of me thought you wouldn’t show. Not after what you’ve done.” He slammed his fist down on the tabletop. Despite her resolve to stay firm, she jumped.

  “Hey,” the guard warned. Lara could hear his voice through Moretti’s phone.

  Moretti’s eyes turned to slits. For one long moment he stood still, hunched slightly over, fists balled. His stare was unrelenting. Lara willed her body not to shy away from him, to hold his eyes with her own. The guard didn’t warn him again. Maybe he did know a bit about the man known as Moretti.

  He’s just a man, she told herself again. A man I ruined.

  Moments stretched a bit longer until Moretti took his seat. The corner of his lips turned upwards. His eyes widened to normal. Even his fist unclenched.

  “I have to admit, I’m glad you came,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that pretty face of yours. I was afraid you’d forgotten about me, Eve.” His smirk turned deadly. “Or should I say Lara?”

  A chill ran over every inch of her body. Moretti was rotating through a full range of emotions. It was unsettling and put her on edge. She needed to steer the conversation toward her own goals. Not his.

  “Two murders,” Lara said, finding her voice. “A woman with my first name, and another with my last name. Both with the MM tattoo stamped on their cheeks.” She touched her own to strengthen the image. “Are you, or are you not, ordering these hits as some kind of payback?”

  He didn’t flinch at the accusation. He didn’t even seem interested. Instead Moretti’s smile came back with force.

  “Not the nice greeting I was hoping for,” he said. “A simple ‘How are you’ would have better suited the situation. I mean, really, at least the other agents eased into the conversation.”

  That derailed Lara’s next response. Before she could keep her expression from changing, her eyebrow rose up in question. It made Moretti laugh.

  “Oh, Lara, surely you’ve realized by now I’m an absolute treasure trove of knowledge,” he said, more factual than boastful. “Which means I’m a little bit more valuable than you’re giving me credit for... Others haven’t made that mistake.”

  Lara couldn’t believe it.

  “The FBI is trying to cut you a deal,” she stated, not asked. Moretti’s smile grew into one that he seemed to know would insert itself right beneath her skin. He leaned back slightly in his chair and rubbed his chin, thoughtful.

  “I still haven’t decided what I am and am not comfortable with sharing, but if they give me the right incentive? I just might be able to part with a few names and stories. I mean, what are a few trafficking client names in exchange for getting out of this lovely place a few years earlier?”

  Lara’s face heated. “They’ve offered you sentence leniency?”

  Moretti wagged a finger at her. “Lara, you know I’m not allowed to discuss what goes on in private sessions,” he said, close to tsking her. “I could get in trouble. You could get in trouble. And we certainly don’t want that, do we? That would be an absolute shame.”

  “You’re right,” she said, feeling the burn of his low-lying threat behind seemingly innocent words. She could play that game, too. “I wouldn’t want y
ou to get into any more trouble. You’ve already lost all of your wealth, prestige and freedom. It would be a shame to add dignity to the list. But...” She made a show of looking him up and down. “Let’s be honest, that’s next in line, isn’t it?”

  Like a switch being flipped, Moretti’s body reacted to her even tone. His smile sharpened, his nostrils flared twice like a bull ready to charge, and he fisted his free hand, popping his knuckles slowly. Those dark eyes narrowed in on her.

  But, he didn’t say a word.

  “Again. Two murders,” she continued, circling back to her original point. “Was it or wasn’t it you?” He kept quiet. “Did you have them killed as some kind of demented payback?”

  Moretti threw his head back with a laugh that shook his entire body.

  “Payback? How would that be payback?” he asked when the laughter had subsided. “Payback would be hot sex together and then slowly strangling you.” Lara’s eyes widened. “Hell, the word payback doesn’t even begin to describe what you, Miss Lara Grant, deserve.” His smiled was wiped away in an instant. Lara’s heartbeat quickened. The change in his emotions was giving her whiplash. “Don’t you agree?”

  Lara ignored the question. She’d had enough. She pushed her shoulder farther back.

  “Do you know who the killer is?” Lara asked, voice low. She could feel the edge of her cool cracking. She needed to know if he was pulling the strings. No more verbally dancing with him.

  Moretti took another long moment. Lara readied herself for a more aggressive approach. She needed answers. Hell, she’d even take just one at this point. But, she bet the man across from her knew this. He knew she needed him. She hated him for it.

  “When we met again, I had hoped it would be more fun than this. You’ve disappointed me, again, Agent Grant.” He stood.

  “Moretti,” she warned. “Answer my question! Do you know the identity of the killer or not?”

  “Of course I do.” Moretti smiled. “Guard, we’re done here.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Lara spent the drive back to the office submerged in a sea of inner turmoil. Instead of the rage she’d felt after leaving Macy’s and the body of Elizabeth Grant, she felt almost exclusively shame. She’d let a man in prison—one she’d had a large hand in bringing down—mentally stun her. He’d intimidated her on the opposite side of freedom without even touching her. All within the span of five minutes.

  Of course I do.

  His admittance had, and simultaneously hadn’t, surprised Lara. He was a proud man. If he had a hand in something, then he would own up to it—without incriminating himself, of course. Or else he wouldn’t have lasted as long as he had running the syndicate. He was also a man who got off on playing with the people around him. His truths and lies were instruments, always working to form a larger picture. One that she hoped she wouldn’t see.

  What part did he have in the murders? In the actions of the so-called Black Stamp Serial Killer? What was his next move?

  Did he know about the family?

  Lara should have found all the answers out during her visit, but all she’d found was regret at not being stronger. How could she keep others from dying because of her if she could barely stand her ground to a man dressed in an orange jumpsuit?

  She slammed her hand against the steering wheel. The action revived her earlier anger. Was Moretti really talking to a different part of the FBI? Would they really give a man like him perks and sentence leniency for what he knew?

  Lara swore beneath her breath.

  Of course they would.

  “Why the hell is another section of the FBI dealing with Moretti?” Lara asked, barging into Victoria’s office on a wave of anger that hadn’t moved since she’d had the thought a half hour later. Victoria looked up from her desk with no amount of surprise across her expression. It only made Lara admit to the main reason she was so pissed off about it all. “All the work I did—everything I sacrificed—to shut this man down, and now it could be undermined by bureaucracy? What’s the fucking point then?”

  Lara’s chest was heaving. Her face was hot. Her hands were fisted.

  Victoria’s eyes traveled to each detail before she spoke.

  “Dismantling Moretti’s crime syndicate was a massive win for us—for the ‘good guys’ in general. We were able to get a plethora of criminals off of the streets as well as guns, drugs and trafficking victims. All of this is true, and all of this is in such a large part due to what you did. And for that no one within this organization or any other can fault you.” She intertwined her fingers. “However, Moretti was a supplier—a man who got people what they wanted. Narcotics, weapons, women and children. To us those people are thought of as monsters—scum—but to Moretti? They were clients.” Lara started to feel the steam of anger whistle out. The point Victoria was getting to was one she’d never considered, too caught up in the man to think about his connections. His, as he said, knowledge. “While I don’t know the extent or frequency of these other agents and their meetings with him, I have always known that even behind bars, Moretti is still of interest to the FBI.”

  Lara took the seat opposite her boss with no grace. Suddenly she felt tired. They both knew Lara wouldn’t continue her outburst—if she did, Victoria wouldn’t have had it—and so Lara recounted the story of her meeting with Moretti. If she judged Lara as harshly as Lara judged herself, she didn’t voice it.

  “What’s your take on him?” she asked when Lara had finished.

  “My take? I honestly don’t know,” she admitted. “He’s clever, he’s connected, and he’s certainly capable. His admission of knowing the identity could be his way of playing us or he knows everything. He’s snowed me before, and this could be him doing it again.”

  Victoria exhaled but didn’t lose her impeccable posture. “It was a long shot,” she said. “One we needed to take.”

  Lara nodded. She may not have liked it, but she agreed they’d needed to search every avenue. Even the ones that she’d hoped to never travel down again.

  “I have a meeting now, so you’ll have to excuse me,” Victoria said a moment later. Her tone hardened. She was in full work mode. If Lara thought the team was in the shit trying to find the truth and the killer, she knew Victoria was in even more with the higher-ups. The pressure she must have been receiving was probably intense. It made Lara appreciate her job versus her boss’s, despite everything that had happened. Lara followed the woman out and started to walk back to her cubicle. “And Lara?” Victoria’s tone alone would have stopped Lara. It was fully authoritative.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to go see Dr. Oliviero,” she said. “Now.” Lara didn’t make the fish out of water face, but she certainly felt it. Victoria must have picked up on the lengthy hesitation because she held up her hand. A physical show of her position. “This isn’t a suggestion. Don’t insult my intelligence by saying you’re fine after your meeting with Moretti,” she said, voice dropping in case anyone could hear them. “You came into my office in a blaze of emotion. You can’t do that again. You don’t need to. He’s one of the best, Lara. Use him.”

  Victoria had no more to say and took her leave. Lara, on the other hand, stood still for a moment. Was Victoria right? Probably. But did that mean Lara wanted to follow orders? No. However, her feet began to take her down a path she figured might become familiar as the case carried on. They led her to a separate floor and right up to an office with a shiny silver nameplate across its wood.

  Lara brushed her knuckles against the door. She tried to focus on the nameplate and not the storm of emotions that had been unleashed within her. It was true, seeing Moretti had shaken her up and now she was nursing a kind of anxious high.

  One that had managed to break down her ability to compartmentalize.

  One that she needed to come down from.

  “Come in,” a man called after the second knock.

  Lara took what was supposed to be a calming breath and pushed inside.

 
Dr. Luca Oliviero, assigned to help their task force with case profiles and also acting staff psychologist, didn’t show surprise at seeing her. Which was odd since she was certainly surprised that she was standing at his door. He stood from behind his desk and smiled. He was tall and imposing yet exuded a demeanor of comfort. Thick salt-and-pepper hair, silver eyeglasses over dark eyes, he was a man who looked the part of psychiatrist. One who was very good at his job.

  “Lara, I hadn’t expected to see you today,” he greeted. He motioned to one of the plush chairs across from him. It was a calming gray. Like rain clouds in the distance. Far enough away that they couldn’t threaten. If he knew they were going to be talking about her specific problems and not the team’s he would have directed her to the lounge area to his right. As it was, he settled back into his chair and gave her his full attention, ready to provide his professional insight.

  “I hadn’t expected to see you today,” she admitted with a small smile. “Victoria sent me.”

  Dr. Oliviero titled his head to the side in question, but he never voiced it. Instead he waited for Lara to present her concerns first. Not pushing her, not applying pressure until she cracked. He was letting her open up on her terms, not his. She hadn’t spent a lot of time with him, aside from their first preliminary meeting, but she had instantly liked the man.

  “You said you’d read though my file from after my time undercover?” she asked, jumping right in.

  He nodded. “Yes, and before then, as well. It’s my job to read each team member’s transcripts from previous sessions. It’s important that, because of the particular high volume of stress this job can incur, each agent’s psychological health is taken care of, as well as monitored and recorded. That includes yours. It’s why they give me this office with such a great view.” He gave her an easy smile and motioned to the windows behind him. They looked out over Broadway. “But, you already knew that.”