Page 54 of Seeking Vengeance
“I know; I know,” Nick said, running his hands through his hair. “The wholeignorance is blissthing? Hey, I’m totally down with that. I don’t know the details, and I don’t want to. All I’m saying is … I just want to be involved. There has to be some way that I can help.”
“Perhaps there is,” Shane said thoughtfully. “Nicki’s always found a way to get in touch with you before, right?”
“Right.”
Shane looked at Sean. “Let’s have Ian vamp up his mobile. If she texts or calls, he can get a lock.”
Sean nodded. “It’s a good start. Come on. Let’s hit the pub and get you geared up.”
* * *
Benny “The Bull”Marscone, now Richard Constantino, ran a portion of his business from a moderate-sized two-story at the far end of a cul-de-sac in a middle-class neighborhood. Nicki shook her head as they checked the place out. It was all so normal. Husbands were out, shoveling the latest round of frozen precipitation from the sidewalks and driveways, while kids laughed and played. Some made snow angels or snowmen. Some rode sleds and snowboards over the fair-sized hill just off the park. Others had built forts and were engaged in snowball battles while moms chatted in puffy coats at the end of driveways with watchful eyes. Christmas lights decorated nearly every home in anticipation of the upcoming holiday. It looked more like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting than the home base of a vice lord.
“Tell me how a drug dealer operates in a place like this,” she said, shaking her head.
She held Fisher’s hand loosely. She’d padded the women’s parka to give the impression of pregnancy. Her hair was pulled back into a casual knot, and just a hint of makeup left her fresh-faced and young-looking.
Fisher, in his Dockers and Northland jacket, was the epitome of the young professional with his stylishly boyish haircut and clean-shaven jaw. For all intents and purposes, they were a young, expecting couple, checking out the homes that sported For Sale signs along the street.
“Hiding in plain sight,” Fisher said under his breath. “And how much do you want to bet that he’s got more than a few customers right here on Happy Street?”
It was true enough. Oh, probably not the heavy stuff, but maybe some weed, some mild pick-me-ups for the stressed-out moms, some perfectly acceptable pain meds and relaxants to make life a little more bearable when things got tough for the upper middle class.
“He’s smart,” Nicki said, nodding pleasantly as she pretended to point out features on the nearest home. “He handles the white-collar crowd now, no doubt leaving his minions to deal with the riffraff.”
Fisher put his arm around her and pulled her close, placing a chaste kiss on her temple. Brookes, he knew, was watching and stewing in the car two blocks over. The men often battled for who would play Nicki’s significant other, and Brookes had lost the toss this time.
Nicki couldn’t help but smile. “Gloating doesn’t become you,” she said, knowing immediately what he was up to.
Fisher laughed. “It suits me perfectly, and you know it. Now, what’s the best angle of entry, do you think?”
They took their time, pausing to stop and chat with curious residents about the local schools, nearest playgrounds, all the while registering every detail. By the time the streetlamps began to glow and parents ushered kids inside for hot chocolate, baths, and bedtime, Nicki and Fisher walked back to their car—a nondescript gray sedan—and drove away.
They convened with Brookes a few minutes later, trading the sedan for a full-sized van equipped with the latest technology.
“He’s got security cameras here, here, and here,” Fisher said, making points on the digital pics of the house they’d discreetly snapped as well as the satellite images they’d pulled with a quick call to Taser. “Though I would bet his security is a damn sight better than that piece-of-shit system he’s advertising on his lawn.”
Nicki nodded, pointing at the barely noticeable smudges along the windows and doorframes. “I’ll say. These look like laser points to me. Break the stream when they’re engaged, and all hell breaks loose.”
Brookes agreed. “Close-ups don’t show anything like that on the attic level though. He’s probably just got the standard wiring up there. The fidiot doesn’t think he needs the extra protection up that high.”
“That’s because he doesn’t know about us,” Nicki said with a grin.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They waited until most of the houses went dark and then slipped in like shadows, surrounding the house at various strategic points. Not surprisingly, Nicki was the first one in.
She had traded her suburban outfit for form-fitting body armor—a protection against the cold that would allow her the greatest range of motion. As the lightest and nimblest, she was able to easily shimmy up the porch supports to the first-story roof and then proceeded to use gutter brackets to noiselessly work her way toward the slotted, angular vent. It took a few moments to loosen some of the slots, but she didn’t have to do many. With her small frame and excellent muscle control, she had been able to slither in like a snake.
The first thing she did was disable the alarms along preselected windows for Fisher and Brookes. She worked quickly and efficiently, her hands steady and her mind calm and collected, though she couldn’t completely quell the anxious wriggling in her gut.
A decade after her promise to Nick, Nicki would finally have her vengeance.
She found Benny in the master bedroom, lounging in a black silk robe that hung partially open. Nicki flinched at the pain that shot through her at the very sight of him. She had to remind herself that she was no longer a child, but a grown woman with the knowledge of at least a hundred ways to kill a man in less than ten seconds. Her mother was beyond his reach. And he would never, ever think to threaten her brother again.
In his hand was a remote, the unmistakable moans and groans of a child pornography feature film filling the room. Benny hadn’t changed at all. That knowledge strengthened her resolve and her belief that he had to be stopped.
Despite all of her training, Nicki felt her cool self-control slipping away as the awful sounds triggered terrible memories. How many times had she been forced to watch those horrible films? How many times had he schooled her in the ways of pleasuring men?
