Page 76 of Night Prey
A patrol car siren broke the quiet, and the vehicle soon screamed down the street. When the officer bolted toward the driveway, Londyn got Karen to her feet and turned her over to the officer to secure in his car.
“Who is she?” Carlo drew away from his mother to watch Karen being loaded in the cruiser.
“Let’s not talk about that now,” Ian said as more sirens blared on arriving vehicles. “It’s going to get a little crazy out here. Let’s go inside.”
He signaled for Londyn to take charge of the scene and escorted the distraught family inside and closed the door. They went into the formal living room. The mother and daughter huddled together on the couch. Carlo sat in the same chair as before, and Ian took the chair where Olivo had stonewalled them in the interview.
“I’m Detective Ian Blair with the Portland Police Bureau.”
The older woman looked at Ian, but her gaze was unfocused. Grief stricken. “Vittorio. Tirone’s wife.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Why?” She eyed him. “You brought this to our house.”
“I didn’t. Your husband and his business dealings brought this on you.”
She clamped her mouth closed and lifted her chin, but it trembled as did her hands.
Ian wasn’t going to get anything from her. He looked at Carlo. “You knew your kidnapper, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Junior. He came to parties at our house. He was a lot of fun, before. I think he might’ve worked for my dad.”
“Gilbert Flagg Jr.,” Vittoria clarified.
“How did your dad free you?” Ian asked, ignoring the mother for now. “Did he pay a ransom?”
Carlo shrugged. “He just appeared one day when Junior was gone.” He held up his injured finger, his face anguished. “After Junior did this. How could he do that to me? We were friends.”
Ian wanted to tell the boy that friends didn’t exist in the drug world, but that wouldn’t help him.
His mother tightened her grip on the daughter’s hand. “Tirone figured out where Junior would take Carlo—a cabin where he’d gone hunting last year with Tirone. When Junior left Carlo alone, Tirone moved in and brought our boy home.”
She sounded so proud of her husband, and Ian had to wonder again what she knew about where their money really came from.
“What did you know about Junior?” he asked instead.
“He was an associate and wanted to move up in Tirone’s company,” she said. “But Tirone didn’t think Junior was ready, and he told him no. That was when Junior took Carlo out for a drive and never brought him back. He demanded ten million dollars. Tirone wouldn’t pay it unless he had proof that Junior had Carlo. We never got it but it didn’t matter. Tirone had located our son.”
“Do you know Mickey Snipes?” Ian asked.
She nodded, looking more wary than when he’d mentioned Junior.
“He’s been charged with Junior’s murder, but we believe Tirone ordered Snipes to take Junior out.”
“No,” the daughter said, a defiant look in her eyes so reminiscent of her father. “Daddy wouldn’t do that.”
Ian knew better, but he wouldn’t share details. He would wait until they were over their immediate shock and question them individually. Who knows, each of them could have information about their father’s illegal activities.
Malone sat on Reed’s sofa next to Ian. She couldn’t quit shaking her head. She couldn’t grasp that Karen Flagg had shown up at Olivo’s house with a gun and killed him. But a mother’s wrath was something to behold. Malone had seen the fierce protectiveness and need for vindication in her work with battered women. She just never experienced it going to this length.
“Did you interview Karen?” Malone asked.
Ian nodded. “She said she left home on a whim and built up her courage on the way.”
“But she couldn’t know that Olivo ordered the hit on Junior, right?”
“She said he’d sucked her son into his drug organization, and that was enough for her.”
