CHAPTER 202 Spotted
*Xavier*
The freeway blurred past, a ribbon of asphalt and adrenaline as I gunned the engine, the speedometer needle trembling like a junkie in withdrawal. Time was a luxury I didn’t have. I was damn lucky Dina’s voice crackled through the comms, her police scanner painting a picture of Bismarck’s finest tied up in the city’s chaos. A spree of crimes had the cops swarming like ants on a kicked-over hill, leaving the highway clear for my reckless sprint.
No word on De Luca. Dina’s last update hung in my mind like smoke: a single bullet hole punched through the van’s windshield, a silent scream of violence. Max and Lou were out there, combing the streets, but the trail was colder than a Dakota winter.
“Dina, tell me about the van. Driver’s door—open or not?” I barked, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror for any sign of trouble.
“Based on a video a bystander uploaded,” Dina replied, "yeah, it’s open."
“De Luca might’ve bailed before the van kissed that post,” I muttered, yanking the wheel to swerve onto the Bismarck exit. The city loomed ahead, a gray sprawl of secrets and shadows. “Tell Max and Lou to widen their search— a block or two out from the crash."
“Copy, Beaufort,” Dina snapped back, efficient as ever.
I glanced at Sebastian, slouched in the passenger seat, his face a storm of fury and fear as he scrolled through grainy bystander videos on his phone. His jaw clenched, eyes burning like embers. “Don’t worry,” I said, voice low but firm. “We’ll find De Luca.”
“And Pete?” Sebastian’s voice cracked, guilt dripping from every syllable. “He’s a ghost now. There is no way to track that bastard.”
I gritted my teeth, frustration simmering in my chest. "We keep eyes on Virtue. That’s our only move for now. I know for a fact Pete is furious, so he’s definitely going to strike." I winced as Pete's name slipped from my lips, bitter as bile.
"To be honest, I’m surprised he still has more people working for him," Sebastian said before addressing Dina on comms. "Dina, do a background check on everyone involved in the wedding, especially the caterer. Virtue said he was a last-minute hire."
"That’s going to take some time, Domenico," Dina said. "I’ll forward this job to Primo and have the team dig up all the necessary dirt on everyone."
“What’s the word from the hospital?” I cut in, my mind racing through the web of moving pieces.
"So far, it’s quiet," Dina said. "Liam, Dan, and the Sheriff are at Virtue's room, while Primo is sneaking Emma and Autumn out of the hospital. Unfortunately, the hospital director has called them to his office." *Of course*.
"Tell Jake to take care of him," I ordered. "I’m sick and tired of him aiding Pete in his plans. Make it look clean— like a suicide or an accident. Jake's choice." *It wasn't part of the plan*, *but he would be one less snake in the grass*.
“Copy, Beaufort. Instructions sent.”
I veered off the direct route, tires screeching as I took a parallel street, circling the crash site. The air felt heavy, charged with the promise of trouble.
“We’re going on foot,” I told Sebastian, my voice a low blade. “We sweep the crash zone, then push forward. Eyes sharp.”
We tucked our guns under our jackets—cold steel against skin, a grim reminder of the stakes—and made our way toward the crash site.
A few blocks away from the van, I tried Max on comms. "Max, talk to me."
"We haven’t found him yet, but a homeless guy about three blocks from the site said someone matching De Luca’s description took his bottle of rum and his jacket and headed toward the convenience store around the corner," Max informed me. "We’re making our way there now." Sebastian heaved a sigh of relief. *De Luca was alive*, *the lucky bastard*.
“We’re skirting the crash site, heading your way,” I said. “Doc’s on standby in Mandan. Keep us posted.”
“Copy,” Max shot back. “Beaufort, stay low. Pete’s dogs might be sniffing around, watching.”
"Don’t worry, we’re just going to take a look," I assured him. "And if we do find one of Pete’s men, we’ll take him with us for questioning. He may be the key to all this." I quickly turned to Sebastian. "Let’s see if we can find some useful information—like the getaway car or a license plate—anything that will help us track down Pete before we meet up with the boys. Also, keep an eye out for that Black Hawks tattoo," I instructed as we neared the site, which had been cordoned off by police with yellow tape. "If they’re here, that means this is their handiwork."
We closed in on the crash site, yellow police tape fluttering like a warning in the wind, circling around one lane of the street. Two suits—detectives, no doubt—stood inside the perimeter, their voices carrying over the murmur of the gathering crowd. Sebastian and I slid behind a police mobile, its bulk shielding us as we eavesdropped.
I fished a couple of face masks from my pocket, tossing one to Sebastian. He tugged the black fabric over his nose and mouth, eyes glinting like a predator.
“No driver,” the woman detective said, her voice clipped, professional. “Witnesses saw three figures bolt from the back—one might’ve been a woman.”
“Blood spatter on the seat, but no trail,” the man added, scanning the street with a hawk’s gaze. “What’s with the stretcher and handcuffs inside? Were they hauling a convict?”
"I called the warden, and he said there’s nothing in the manifest at Bismarck Penitentiary," the female detective replied. "Man, two in one day. I wasn’t even done with La Casa del Flores when I was called in for this one." She looked up and squinted against the sun's glare. "Based on the trajectory, shots were fired from one of those buildings there. Witnesses say they heard three shots before the van rammed into this light post. Three people exited and vanished down that alley over there."
"Did anyone see a vehicle leave from there?" the male detective asked, pointing at the alley.
"Nope," the woman answered, letting out a frustrated sigh. "And all CCTV cameras are dead. Unless we can find the driver—"
Something—instinct, maybe—drew my eyes to a black Mercedes-Benz prowling past, slow, and deliberate. The window slid down, and there he was: Pete, his smirk, a blade in the daylight. My pulse roared.
I grabbed Sebastian, yanking him into the crowd’s chaos, my finger jabbing toward the car. “There!”
Sebastian’s grin flashed, feral and fierce. “Pete has been spotted. I repeat, we have eyes on Pete. Dina, I need you to track a black Mercedes-Benz, North Dakota plate 631-NVR. Find out who it belongs to."
"Copy, Domenico," Dina hummed. I could hear the smile in her voice. "According to records, the car is registered to a Maurice Brent."
*Brent*. He must be related to Lisa.
While my eyes followed the black sedan, my ears stayed glued on the detectives, who were still looking for clues.
“Driver’s door’s open,” the male detective mused. “He jumped before the crash. Call the K-9 unit so we can track down the missing driver.”
And that was our cue. I tapped Sebastian on the shoulder, jerking my head. *Time to move*.
“Max, we’re coming to you,” I hissed into comms. “Cops are closing in. If you haven't found De Luca yet, you better find him now!”
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