Prologue
Las Vegas, NV
“What if they found her?”
“They didn’t, not alive anyway.”
Chase and Noah Warren sat in a dingy interrogation room with a flickering fluorescent light overhead and a cracked two-way mirror on the wall. Earlier in the evening, they’d received a phone call from the local FBI field office, saying they had news about Faith Warren’s case, but the agent refused to give specifics over the phone.
“You don’t know for sure.” Chase said the words, even though he suspected his father was probably right. Faith disappeared over a decade ago, and the case had gone ice cold.
He’d hold onto hope until the very last second, even though not knowing her fate was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it allowed Chase to spin fantasies about what happened to her. He liked to think she’d escaped from their family and settled down with a nice, normal man and had a couple of kids.
“She would’ve come home to us.”
“Maybe.” Chase seriously doubted it. A decade ago, they’d both been trying to flee from their father, but Chase had gotten sucked back in.
“She’s gone.” Noah’s expression was grave, as though already preparing for the worst. Chase and Noah looked a lot alike, only Noah had salt and pepper hair, with sharp brown eyes.
“Sorry to keep you folks waitin’. I had an urgent phone call.” An FBI agent walked into the room and placed a manila folder on the table. “I’m Special Agent Jim Hawthorne.” He flashed a badge. “Please call me Thorne.” He stuck his hand out, but neither one of them shook it until the man was forced to drop his arm. “I’m not with the Las Vegas branch.”
“Then why are you here?” Chase asked.
“They called me in as a favor.”
The agent was tall and lanky. He wore a pair of snakeskin cowboy boots, faded Levi’s, and a silver belt buckle. Thorne looked to be in his early forties, owing to the gray hair at his temples and the lines on his forehead. A couple of days’ worth of stubble covered his square jaw.
He inspected Chase and Noah like a farmer examining a prize pig at the county fair.
Chase didn’t believe the bullshit phone call story. He had no doubt the agent had been watching them through the two-way mirror, probably listening in on their conversation as well.
This wasn’t the first time he’d cooled his heels in an FBI interrogation room.
As a member of the Sin City Mafia, it was a job hazard. Unlike the Cosa Nostra, whose members were usually related, Sin City folks were more loosely affiliated. Chase’s father, Noah, was a mob boss in his own right, and Chase had just established his own crew and had steadily worked his way up the chain of command over the past few years.
“I’m sorry to say, we found your sister’s remains,” Thorne said, without preamble.
And just like that, all Chase’s hopes turned to ash.
He felt cold all of a sudden, and his chest tightened. Chase swallowed the lump in his throat and kept his face blank. Breaking down in front of his father and the agent wasn’t an option.
Noah spoke up first. “How long has she been…?”
“According to the medical examiner, the body’s state of decomposition indicates Faith died around the time she was abducted.”
Chase shook his head. “Wait a minute. She went missin’ ten years ago, so all you found was a bunch of bones. How do you know it’s her?”
“After she disappeared, we obtained her medical data. The dental records match, and the body shows a healed fracture on her left foot.”
“Dammit.” Noah cupped his head in his hands.
She’d broken it during a middle school soccer match. Faith had needed crutches for six weeks while her foot healed.
“And we found this with the body.” He reached into a plastic evidence bag and pulled out a silver locket.
Chase let out a choked sob before he could stop himself. He’d given it to her for her their sixteenth birthday, and she’d never taken the necklace off ever since.
Even in death, it had remained with her.
“What happened to her?” Noah asked.
He flipped open the file. “Do you really want to know the gritty details?”
The endless speculation and worry had been agonizing. Chase had to know what happened to Faith all those years ago, but he glanced at Noah, who nodded in agreement.
“We want the truth.”
“Since the body was badly decomposed, we had difficulty establishing all the particulars. It appears she was shot twice in the back of the head, execution style. Whoever did it was a professional, because there was no trace evidence left at the scene. Although, a decade has passed since the murder so mother nature might’ve played a role in covering up the crime.”
A professional? So a hitman had done this? But why? Faith wasn’t involved in the family business.
“Did she have any enemies?” Thorne asked.
“Of course not. Faith was nineteen years old when she disappeared. Sure, she had some problems, but she’d never been in trouble with the law.”
Chase had always been the family’s designated black sheep. He loved to mouth off and Chase had gotten suspended several times for fighting. His dad had a foul temper, and as a child, he’d borne the brunt of his rages. Noah had “disciplined” him with a leather belt, but it was more like a beating.
Faith had been more self-destructive. She’d been hospitalized for bulimia and depression. In high school, she’d dated a string of losers and started drinking before class every morning, but her only real sin was being a Warren, and it had cost Faith her life.
Thorne scribbled some notes. “Okay, what about your enemies?”
“Whatever you think of me, my daughter was innocent, and everyone loved her.” Noah shifted in the chair, and it made a squeaking noise, which sounded abnormally loud in the quiet room.
“Given your criminal activities, your daughter was probably killed by someone who had a beef with you.”
“Alleged criminal activities,” Noah corrected.
“Faith was murdered, and you want to play word games with me?” Thorne narrowed his eyes. “You’re both members of the Sin City Mafia, and I don’t see the point in pretendin’ otherwise.”
Noah crossed his arms over his chest and didn’t reply. Chase didn’t say anything either. If a rival had killed Faith, they’d take care of it in-house.
Chase was growing more and more agitated. The FBI was jerking them around. Clearly, they wanted to use her death for their own means and didn’t give a damn about catching her killer.
“I know what you’re up to.” Chase leaned forward.
“And what’s that?” Thorne asked.
“You wanted to see our reactions in person, so you didn’t breathe a word of this over the phone.”
“Maybe.” His eyes narrowed. “Your organization has many rivals, and they probably took it out on poor Faith.”
Chase clenched his jaw. “You’re saying this is our fault?”
“I’m merely pointing out somethin’. Karma is a stone cold bitch, and all that killing, lying, and lawbreaking came back to haunt you, only it nailed the wrong person.”
Chase balled up a fist beneath the table. He’d like to punch the agent in the face, but he wasn’t an idiot. Assaulting a federal officer would land him in deep shit, and pave the way for a RICO investigation. RICO, or Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations, was a statute the feds used to prosecute criminal groups like the Hell’s Angels or the mafia.
Finding her body must’ve been like a Christmas present for the feds. The agency had dogged them for years, waiting for an opportunity to pounce, and he’d be damned if he helped them out.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, agent.” Noah’s tone was icy. “My son and I run a furniture business.”
“Yes, it’s a money-laundering front for your criminal activities, but that’s neither here nor there. We’re gonna investigate Faith’s murder and get to the bottom of what happened.”
The FBI might know what they were up to, but Chase doubted they could prove it. If they could, his ass would already be in jail.
“Yeah, I bet you’re really motivated to help out.”
“As a matter of fact, I am, but it would be easier if you’d come clean with me.” He scratched his chin.
“We have.”
“No, you’re giving me the runaround. If you really cared about Faith, you’d tell me anything I want to know.”
Neither one of them said a word.
“So y’all are impedin’ a federal investigation?”
“No, we simply ain’t got the info you’re looking for, agent.” Noah squared his shoulders. “Sorry, we can’t be more helpful to you.”
“Just so we're clear, I got my eye on you.” Thorne stood and leaned across the table. “Don’t even think about startin’ somethin’. If you do, I’ll be on you like a duck on a June bug. And since I’m gettin’ nowhere with this line of inquiry, let’s take another tactic. Was she seeing anybody?”
Chase shook his head. “Not around the time she disappeared. Faith dated Jimmy Beckett during her junior year, but they split up the summer before senior year, and they were friends afterward.” At the end, she’d been working her way through a series of dirt bags.
“So it was mutual then?”
Chase nodded.
“Is Jimmy still in the area?” Thorne sat down once more and scratched out a note.
“Yes, but he’s married and has two kids.”
“So he isn’t a hit man?” Thorn drawled.
“No. What else can you tell us?” Chase asked.
“We didn’t find any evidence of clothin’, so most likely the body was stripped before being buried in the woods.”
Sonofabitch.
Chase clenched his jaw. “Was she raped?”
“It’s impossible to tell, because there wasn’t much, uh, soft tissue left, but it’s a possibility.”
“Where was she found?” Noah asked.
His eyes glittered. “The national forest, fifty miles from here, near a town called Crimson Creek, Texas.”
Crimson fucking Creek, where the Lone Star Mafia was headquartered.
Chase doubted it was a coincidence and from the look on his father’s face, Noah suspected they were involved, too.
“How’d you find her?” Noah asked.
“Hikers stumbled across the body after massive flooding, which uprooted trees and disturbed the gravesite.” Thorne opened the file again. “Funny, since the grave was shallow, to begin with.”
“Meaning?” Chase asked.
“It’s almost like the killer wanted her to be found.”
Strange. And if it weren’t for a freak storm, they might’ve not located her.
“Do you have any leads?” Chase asked.
“Even if I did, I couldn’t share them with you. We don’t talk about ongoing investigations with the family.” Thorne crossed his arms over his chest.
Especially his?
“When will you release the body?” Noah asked. “I’d like to give my daughter a proper burial.”
“Early next week, after the medical examiner sends me her final report.”
Noah nodded. “Thank you.”
They’d had a funeral for Faith, a year after she disappeared. At the time, Chase had been infuriated, because his family gave up on her. At least now they could finally lay her to rest.
“Which funeral home will you be using?” Thorne asked.
“We’re going to have her cremated.”
Chase was confused. Their entire family was buried in Greenland Cemetery. He glanced at his father, but the old man kept his mouth shut. Chase would question him about it later.
“Let me make a note in the file.” Thorne paused halfway down a page. “Hmm, you and your sister share the same birthday.”
“We’re fraternal twins.” He sucked in a breath. “Were fraternal twins.”
And ever since she went missing, I feel like somebody stuck a knife in my gut and split me in two. I’m half the person I used to be.
Thorne tilted his head to one side. “Didn’t you used to be a Marine?”
“I still am.”
He’d done one tour in Afghanistan. At the time, Chase had grand plans to become a military officer and leave his family’s life of crime far behind him. It hadn’t worked out that way. Instead, he’d joined his father’s crew after she’d gone missing.
“Yeah, a Marine who works for the mafia. You’re a disgrace to the uniform.”
“My son and I should be goin’.” Noah stood and stalked out of the room, but Chase lingered at the table.
Privately, Chase didn’t disagree with his assessment, although he wouldn’t say so in front of his dad. He’d taken an oath to protect the nation and its people. Instead, he turned his back on the mission and become a profiteer, making money off the misery of others.
“The way you speak about the uniform, makes me think you served, too.”
“Yeah, one of Chesty Puller’s finest.” Chesty Puller was a famous soldier, who’d done such a damn fine job the rest of them aspired to be even half the Marine he was.
“You seem to be takin’ this personally.” The agent was very intense about the investigation. Did he have a stake in it?
“Well, I have a theory.”
“I’m listenin’.”
“Y’all have a rivalry with the Lone Star Mafia. And my money’s on either Byron Beauregard or maybe Tucker Cobb.”
Chase knew the names. When she’d gone missing, his father had a sit down with Tucker, and the man had sworn up and down he hadn’t done a damn thing to Faith. Unfortunately, they never found any evidence one way or the other.
Until now.
Noah had believed him at the time. He figured if Cobb had done it, he would’ve taken credit. Back in the day, the mafia didn’t think twice about involving women and children in turf wars, which was sickening. Now, they settled their disputes among made men and didn’t involve their families anymore.
“Sounds like you want to make a case against them.” Chase recognized the hunger in the agent’s eyes. He wanted vengeance: it was plain to see. While he didn’t have a clue what Beauregard or Cobb had done to him, it must’ve been terrible. He almost felt sorry for the bastards.
“I’m not the only one who doesn’t like them. What’s the old saying? The enemy of my enemy is my… well, I wouldn’t call y’all my friends, but we got somethin’ in common. Think about it and get back to me.” He stuck his hand out once more, and this time, Chase shook it.
Despite himself, he grudgingly liked the agent, although he doubted the feeling was mutual.
In the parking lot, Chase climbed into Noah’s Silverado. It was a cool evening, and Chase wrapped his arms around himself. The wind cut through his blue hoodie like a razor blade, or maybe the chill was internal.
Noah started the truck. “What do you think?”
“I ain’t got a clue.” He was still reeling from the news that Faith was gone. On some level, he’d felt it, but he hadn’t been willing to accept the truth. “Why do you want to have her cremated?”
He shrugged. “She’s been dead a long time, and we already had a funeral, so I don’t see the point in diggin’ up her gravesite. I’ll keep her ashes until it’s my time to go and then you can bury her with me.”
It sounded morbid to Chase, but his father had the right to make the decision. Faith had always been the old man’s favorite, so it made sense he’d want to spend eternity with her.
“Cobb said he wasn’t involved, right?” Chase asked.
“Yeah, but they found her right outside of the Creek.”
“Which would be one hell of a coincidence. So what do you want to do about it?”
“I’m thinkin’ about an eye for an eye.” Noah had a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
“What are you talkin’ about?” He’d been anticipating a bloody, old school turf-war, not some kind of a gritty payback.
“Tucker Cobb’s daughter is dead and gone, but he has a granddaughter, Mary Cobb. From what I remember, she’s around your sister’s age when she disappeared, or maybe a bit older.”
Fuck that.
His father must have lost his damn mind.
“You’re talking about hurtin’ an innocent woman.” Chase had his own code, of sorts. He might be a mobster, but he drew the line at women and children. Full-grown men didn’t get the same consideration. They’d, at least, signed up for the fight, and knew they’d stepped into the crossfire.
“Fine, if you want to be a Boy Scout about it, we don’t have to kill her. What if we just take her?”
“And do what? Get a felony conviction for abducting somebody? No thanks.” Eventually, they’d have to set her free and Mary would pick them out of a lineup.
“Cobb won’t let his granddaughter go to the police.”
“Maybe not, but I ain’t willin’ to risk it.”
Truthfully, Chase was sick of this life, tired of the body count, weary beyond his years. And he didn’t have much choice in the matter, not anymore. Once he’d taken the oath and joined the family business, he couldn’t back out.
“He doesn’t want the FBI involved, any more than we do, and we ain’t gotta touch a hair on her pretty little head.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“Let’s make Cobb sweat this one out and then we’ll take another run at him.”
“You think he’ll confess to Faith’s murder?”
“Maybe he’ll volunteer to take Mary’s place.”
So Noah could kill him instead?
“Why don’t we take this fight to Cobb in the first place?” Chase would rather deal with the man who was responsible.
Noah snorted. “And start a full-scale war?”
“I didn’t say it was a great option.” But it would be more honorable.
“You weren’t around for the last one, son, so you don’t know the true cost. We have to make him pay, but I’m too old for a scorched earth kind of battle.”
“And you ain’t got somethin’ else up your sleeve?” Chase had no love for the Cobbs, but he wouldn’t hold her responsible for her granddad’s sins.
Noah was a man of half-truths and Machiavellian schemes. He doubted he’d ever had a frank conversation with his father. Even before he’d found out Noah was a mobster, Chase knew he was underhanded and self-serving.
What do you expect from a wolf? They prey on other people and don’t give a damn about the consequences.
“No. I ain’t some heartless bastard like Cobb.”
Yeah, right. Noah was callous and cruel, too.
Chase shook his head. “I think you’re off your rocker.”
“What I am, is the underboss of this outfit and what I say, goes, or have you forgotten your place?”
He gritted his teeth.
Noah was right, Chase didn’t have much choice but to go along with this insanity. Either that or end up with a bullet in his head for insubordination.
“No, I haven’t. What’s the plan?”
“Listen up, and I’ll lay it out for you.”