Dante Moresco Bianchi.
An image of Dante sitting on the couch in Armando’s office, working away at his computer, flashed through her mind. He’d told them he hadn’t found any other anomalies.
“He must have lied.”
“Who?” Aleksei and Virus asked in unison.
She ignored them and clicked on the yellow file folder icon at the bottom of her screen, pulling up the local drive. She found a folder labeledMorescoand opened it. There were hundreds of nested folders with project names. Her heart stuttered. She scratched around the edges of her wig with her left hand while her right hand clicked on folders and documents. Every document she clicked on grayed out immediately after she opened it, and a password box popped up. She couldn’t see anyspecific data, but based on the file organization and names, she was fairly certain what was on the laptop.
“I think this computer has every file, document, and invoice for every Moresco project. If I’m right, there are years of data here. I think the initial spreadsheet that popped up is a list of the fraudulent invoices Dante was able to identify before I left for vacation. Unfortunately, that seems to be the only document I can access. All the others require a password.”
“So, all these files aren’t normally on your computer?” Aleksei asked.
She shook her head, her mind still reeling over the cache of information on the laptop. “Pannetone treated the Moresco files like Fort Knox. I had very limited access, but this isn’t my normal laptop. It’s a loaner. Dante said he needed to update my computer and gave me this one to use while I was away. I don’t normally bring a computer on vacation, but he pressed it on me as I was leaving.” She lifted her head. “It’s almost like he knew something bad might happen to the server and wanted a backup. Do you think he suspected Armando was involved?”
“Since Dante is part of the Moresco family, maybe he was the one who planted the bomb. Maybe the Morescos were done with Pannetone & Associates, and this was their way of severing all evidence and still retaining the business records they needed. We won’t know until we have more info,” Aleksei said. “What I can tell you is, the FBI would have a field day with those files. The Morescos are involved in just about every illegal activity you could think of. Gambling, extortion, drugs, prostitution, money laundering. You name it, they do it. Set the geek squad on that laptop, let them follow the money, and they could probably find enough dirt to put Salvatore Moresco away for the rest of his life.”
Her stomach felt like she’d just ridden a roller coaster with too many loops. There was no way Dante had hurt innocentpeople. “Do you think Sal’s behind it all? Do you think he could have done this?”
Virus made a sound of disgust. “If the Morescos would kill a cop, they certainly wouldn’t hesitate to take out a bunch of accountants. Let’s just hope they don’t find you here. You survived. You have what they need. They’re going to be coming for you.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Virus had always been a man of few words, and when he did speak, he usually cut right to the heart of the matter. Aleksei took Rosemary’s wide eyes, ghost-pale face, and rushed breath as hard proof that Virus’s approach wasn’t always best. If she didn’t slow her breathing, she was going to pass out, and he might just have to kick Virus’s ass.
He rested a hand on her shoulder, her weathered sweatshirt soft and fuzzy under his fingers. He pressed firmly, hoping the weight of his palm would ground her. He took a few slow, audible breaths. Thank God she latched onto their connection and matched her breathing to his. Her shoulders slackened, and he imagined he could feel her heartbeat slow to beat in time with his.
She laid a pale hand over his. “I’m okay. Really. I’m just not used to people wanting me dead.”
He shot Virus a death glare, which resulted in a sheepish shrug and a mumbled apology. His sweet Rose brushed it off as unnecessary. In his view, it was most definitely necessary.
Satisfied with the pace of her breathing and the pink that had returned to her cheeks, he removed his hand from her shoulder and began walking the length of the room. The feel of the hard floor under his pacing feet organized his erratic thoughts.
“Tell me more about Dante,” he said.
“He is, or maybe was, the IT guy for Pannetone & Associates. Like I said, he’s Sal’s nephew. He’s young, sweet, and a little quirky. I can’t imagine him hurting anyone.” She waved toward the screen. “There’s a comment in the spreadsheet notes. It says he wants me to give the laptop to his grandfather. It’s so bizarre. He told me his grandfather lives in Italy. I wouldn’t have a clue how to find him.”
“He’ll probably find you,” Virus commented. “Especially if his grandson died in that explosion.”
Aleksei shot him a second death glare, and Virus lifted both his hands in surrender. “Got it. No more keeping it real.”
“If the Morescos wanted to cut ties with Pannetone and destroy all the records at the office, I don’t understand why Dante wouldn’t transfer the records to his own laptop or back them up somewhere,” Rosemary said.
Virus inverted his lips.
“Spit it out.” Aleksei said. “Just no more murder and doom and gloom.”
“Grandpa’s paranoid about cybersecurity, so there’s no way Dante can email or do anything that might put the Moresco files in a hackable domain. The Morescos are mafia, which means they have to assume they’re always being watched. Maybe they thought it was safter to use you to get the records out of the office. No one is watching you.”
Except the CI who told Kemper he’d been hired by Moresco to follow Rosemary.
Aleksei kept pacing, unease inching up his spine with every step. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“What doesn’t make sense?” Rosemary asked.
“Legal or illegal, businesses need records, and the mafia is just like any other business. They need a firm grasp of income and expenses so they can track profit and make sure no one’s stealing from them. That’s why they use accountants. They always have and always will. They need those records.”
“So, it seems a little far-fetched that Moresco would destroy the server and leave the only copy of the records with me,” Rose said.