“What about the Lincoln?”

“Rented by one Angelo Francetti over a week ago. For all we know, he could’ve stolen it.”

“Did you give the name to your guy?”

“Still waiting to hear back on him. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear.”

I hung up, and Delilah watched me lower my phone back to the counter. “Something’s not right here. Something’s really not fucking right.”

“I know.”

I rode the streets again for another hour and came back to Voodoo when I didn’t have a fucking clue where else to go.

She was gone.

What the hell is her real name? Fake ID? Why?

It seemed the woman I’d fallen for was a hell of a lot better at keeping secrets than I was. I’d gone round and round with my emotions. Anger that she hadn’t told me. Concern that whatever she was running from caught up with her. Disappointment with every corner I turned that I didn’t see her.

I called in every marker I had to find the car, and no one had a clue. Con’s contacts were better than mine, so I hoped he’d find out something really fucking soon. Before I lost my goddamned mind.

We closed Voodoo, and Delilah made coffee up in my apartment. She and I sat across the table from each other, both staring at the phone between us, waiting for it to ring.

The pounding of someone running up the stairs from the downstairs shop to my apartment had me whipping my head toward the door.

Only Con had a key besides me or Delilah, so it was no surprise when he threw the door open. In his hand was a pile of papers.

“What do you have?” I demanded.

“More than I expected, that’s for fucking sure.”

He tossed the stack of papers on the counter, and I grabbed the top one.

Angelo Francetti had a mugshot and a rap sheet. One part stood out more than anything else.

Soldier for the Casso crime family.

Everything inside me went cold. Fucking frozen.

The Casso crime family. Dominic Casso. The head of the fucking mob. The reason I had no uncle, no cousin, and had been running for ten years.

“What the fuck?”

“Your girl . . . her name is Eden. Eden Mathews. But that’s only because she doesn’t have her father’s name.”

I remembered what the lady in the donut shop had told us the guy who took Eden said. That her dad would be mad. I looked up at Con’s solemn features and tried to put it together.

“Who the fuck is her father?”

“Dominic Casso.”

Ice froze my chest as realization slammed into me.

Delilah sucked in a breath. “Holy fucking shit. Was she here spying on you?”

The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind until the words came out of Delilah’s mouth.

“No fucking way.”

“Knew you were running from something, but didn’t have a clue that was it. Fuck, man. Do we need to get you out of here?” Con asked. “This family is no joke. Even if they’re in a tailspin right now because of the Feds, Casso is still as dangerous as ever, according to my contact.”

Delilah pushed up from the table. “Con’s right. You need to pack your shit and go. What if they come for you?” Her tone took on a hysterical edge. “This could all be a setup.”

I looked at Delilah. “No. No fucking way.” I refused to believe it. How can she be a Casso? The odds were ridiculous. It couldn’t be true.

She put her hands on her hips. “How do you know? Isn’t it a little convenient that she ended up here?”

I thought of the sidewalk where I originally found Eden about to be assaulted. “I just know. There’s no fucking way. You’re sure that’s who she is?” I asked Con.

“Yes. No doubt at all. This shit is straight from the FBI database. Casso kept her under wraps, but my guy has a comprehensive file on the whole damn family. Fuck, she has a half brother who’s a movie star and one who’s a fucking billionaire. You’ve heard their names before too. Guaranteed. Report says she has no contact with them at all.”

I didn’t care about her siblings. “So, what the hell happened? Soldier from the family comes to drag her home, but she won’t go, so she struggles and he knocks her out and takes her anyway?”

“That would be the best guess I have.”

“What else do you have on him? Where would he take her?”

“Not sure. But my guy pulled credit card records, so that should tell us where he was staying. They’re in here somewhere. I just printed out the whole pile and came.”

All three of us flipped through the pages and scanned for the information.

In my head, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Eden had looked as he’d shoved her in the car. So fucking helpless while she was unconscious. The fact that she fought him and didn’t want to go with him gave me some hope.

“Where’s Casso now? Do we know?”

Con shook his head. “He’s under grand-jury investigation. The news has been all over the place, but he’s still walking free. Not sure exactly where he’s holed up, but the Feds are saying there’s been a power struggle and two of the other families are trying to wrestle control.”

Was that why Eden was in New Orleans? Out of the way to keep her safe? Fuck, I hated having this many questions and no answers. More than anything, I hated that she hadn’t trusted me enough to tell me.

“He was at the Sonesta.” Con held up a piece of paper. “Checked in under his real name and everything. He’s been there since before Mardi Gras.”

While Eden was there.

“What the fuck?” I grabbed my phone and pulled up Leon’s contact.

“What up, Bish?”

“You have a guy staying there named Angelo Francetti?”

“Why? What’s up?”

“Just check for me, would you?”

I heard clicking computer keys in the background. “Okay. Okay, yeah, I got him. He’s still checked in.”

“I’m on my way. Get me a key to his room.”

“Man, I can’t—”

“I’ll do your next piece for free. Just get me a fucking key to the guy’s room and don’t fucking tell anyone.”

“Okay. Okay. But if I lose my job over this—”

“We’ll worry about that later.”

I hung up and looked to Con. “You coming?”