Chapter 5 - The Clues Converge
Back in Chicago, the breakthrough came not from high-tech surveillance or wiretapped phones, but from an old, discarded receipt found tucked inside the lining of a winter coat Dante had ordered cleaned at a dry cleaner's on the North Side.
Dante sat at his desk, his eyes locked on a single piece of crinkled thermal paper held between his thumb and index finger.
It was a parking stub from a remote regional medical clinic four hundred miles away in southern Missouri, dated three weeks after Lena disappeared.
Marco stood across the desk, his expression deadpan, waiting for his brother’s verdict.
“Missouri,” Dante whispered, the word tasting like venom on his tongue. “She went to Missouri.”
“My guys ran the clinic’s digital registry,” Marco reported swiftly. “It’s a private, off-grid women’s health center. The receptionist remembered a woman matching Lena’s description paying cash for an extended consultation... under the name Elena Vance.”
Dante stood up so fast his mahogany chair slammed back against the wood-paneled wall, crashing to the floor.
“Get the Gulfstream prepped,” Dante commanded, his voice dropping into a lethal, terrifying register. “Get a tactical team, two armored units, and local fixers in Missouri. We fly out in one hour.”
“Dante, wait,” Marco held up his hand, stepping forward. “What’s the play when we find her? Are we dragging her back by her hair? Because if she’s dug in deep, kicking down her door with twenty armed enforcers might push her over the edge.”
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Dante stopped dead in his tracks. His dark eyes turned glacial.
“I’m not dragging her anywhere, Marco,” Dante said quietly, his voice trembling with a suppressed emotion that frightened even his brother. “I’m bringing my wife home. And if anyone—anyone—gets in my way, they burn.”
