“We can’t rule anyone out when putting together our potential suspect list. Someone Dad pissed off. Hell, even Giovanni,” Constantine began. “I was trying to find a way to get my hands on untainted footage from the night of her murder, but the club’s out of business now.”
“Right,” I remembered. “The nightclub cameras were manipulated, which was mentioned in court. And multiple vantage points were erased, so the prosecution believed the killer hid the fact he was there with Bianca that night.”
“But the cleaner may have done that on purpose during his frame job. The story of the guy following Bianca home from the club would fall apart in court if he was never there in the first place,” Constantine pointed out. “But that doesn’t mean the real killer wasn’t there.”
“And the security footage near Bianca’s was also manipulated, which is why the police never saw her killer come and go from her place back then,” Hudson noted. “No chance you can unfuck that footage to see the real picture?”
“Unfortunately not,” Constantine said. “But I had another idea.”
Thank God for him. My brother had turned into a tech-savvy genius in the last decade, which had saved our asses time and time again on ops. And when he couldn’t hack his way into a facility, Alessandro would charm his way in for us.
“I’m in the process of creating a program to tap into any available CCTV footage from that night within a block of the club,” Constantine explained.
“So you think the cleaner didn’t tamper with all the cameras in the area?” I asked.
“Only the ones at the bank across the street, which faced the entrance to the club, appear to have been altered,” Constantine said. “Which is why I’m expanding the search farther. If we see anyone near the club that night who Bianca would’ve known, they get moved up to the top of the suspect list.”
“But this is all a long shot, right?” Alessandro mumbled, frustrated, but I’d take a long shot over no shot at all, especially with Constantine at the helm trying to figure it out.
Before I could say more, my phone vibrated in my pocket. “It’s Jesse.” Constantine motioned for me to put him on speakerphone, and the guys crowded around me. “Hey, tell me Carter is ready to work together.”
“Sorry for the delay. We were in the air. Just landed,” Jesse answered. “We’re in New York but not near you.”
“Where?” And why’d it feel like he was about to hit me with shitty news?
“We’re in Syracuse. The cleaner was captured just over the Canadian border, and a few spies swooped in and grabbed him from border control,” Jesse explained. “Carter was able to figure out where he was taken. The CIA officers brought him to a remote location outside Syracuse.”
“The CIA brought him stateside?” I asked, because the international field was normally the Agency’s playground. “And why the hell to Syracuse?”
“Yeah, something is suspect,” Jesse said. “But if you’d like to help us extract him, and you’re willing to use rubber bullets and Tasers, then—”
“What time?” I interrupted.
“We can’t afford to wait too long after dark. We’re going to hit the cabin around twenty-three hundred hours. Can you get here by then?”
“Yeah.” It was a quick flight to Syracuse, since we had our own jet, thankfully. “Send us your location.”
There was noise in the background and then static popped over the line before a deep, unrecognizable voice said, “Constantine?”
My brother snatched the phone. “Carter.”
“You’re only joining because I’m working with half my team on this op and need the extra bodies,” Carter hissed. “But if you get captured, I don’t fucking know you. You’re on your own, understood?”
“Yeah.” My brother’s lack of an aggressive response to Carter’s determined tone was almost surprising.
“And one more thing,” Carter started. “The cleaner never leaves our custody. You’re not to kill him. You get the name, and then you go on your way.”
Constantine closed his eyes, and I knew he was struggling that time. Same as me. I wanted to kill the bastard for being complicit in Bianca’s murder, but he hid other crimes as well, and everyone deserved justice, not just us.
“Fine,” I said, speaking for everyone. “Thank you for allowing us to join you.”