About the Book:
From internationally bestselling author Sandrone Dazieri comes the thrilling conclusion to the “unrelentingly suspenseful” (Booklist, starred review) Caselli and Torre trilogy in which two damaged but deductively brilliant detectives must sort out what is real and what is imagined.
Detective Colomba Caselli is reeling from a deadly bombing in Venice and her investigative partner Dante’s disappearance, and retreats to the rural countryside outside Rome to nurse her wounds. When an apparently autistic teenager appears in her yard, covered in blood, he leads her to a brutal crime scene where nothing is what it seems. As Colomba gets pulled into the investigation and the body count continues to grow, she is implicated in the violence. She is convinced that a powerful villain is working in the shadows to cause the carnage and frame her, but the only person who can help her is Dante—and he hasn’t been seen in over a year and is presumed dead. Colomba is sure he’s alive and out there somewhere, but will she find him before it’s too late? And can she clear her name and be free of the far-reaching legacy of the villain known as the Father…
Colomba bent over Giltine and determined that she was dead, while Dante furiously wheeled around on Leo. “There was noneed for that.
There was no f@#king need!”
Leo put a new clip in his gun, then went over to Colomba. “Is she dead?” “Yes.” God, she’s tiny,thought Colomba. She couldn’t weigh a pound over ninety. “What was that explosion, Dante?”
“One of Giltine’s old friends tried to arrange an escape route for her.” “And he came mighty close to succeeding,” said Leo, grabbing the knife that Giltine had dropped.
“Leo, you know that you’re contaminating a crime scene, don’t you?” asked Colomba.
“How careless of me.”
Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down Dante’s spine. “Don’t touch her!” he shouted. But it was too late, because Leo had plunged the knife into Colomba’s belly and thentwisted it, ripping the wound wider.
Colomba felt her stomach turn to ice and she fell to her knees, drop- ping her pistol, watching as her blood filled her hands. She watched as Leo punched Dante and knocked him to the groundand then bent over Belyy. The old man stared at Leo in horror, incapable of moving because of the terrible pain in his pelvis. “If you spare my life, I’ll make you a rich man,” the old man said.
“Dasvidaniya,” said Leo, and cut the man’s throat with as much indifference as you’d use to cut a slice of cake.
Dante crawled toward Colomba, who was curled up in a fetal position, already in a lake of blood. “CC,” he said, with tears in his eyes. “Don’t move. Now I’m going to compress the wound.”
2 SANDRONE DAZIERI
Leo grabbed Dante and yanked him to his feet. “It’s time to go,” he said.
Dante felt his internal thermostat shooting past level ten, level one hundred, level one thousand, and Leo’s face became a dark dot at the edge of a mega-screen in Berlin, and then the passerby who, months before that, had triggered the psychotic episode that had sent him to the Swiss clinic.
“So it’s you,” he murmured.
“Be good, little brother,” said Leo, then he wrapped his hands around Dante’s throat and squeezed until he lost consciousness. Then he slung Dante’s inert body over his shoulder.
The last thing Colomba saw was Dante’s hand trying to reach out to her over Leo’s shoulder. She wanted to tell him that she’d save him, that she’d win out over everything, that they’d never be apart again, but she uttered the words only in her dream.
When the EMTs showed up to save her from death’s door, Leo and Dante had already disappeared, and no one had seen them go.
It took a week of searching to determine beyond the shadow of a doubt that Leo Bonaccorso had never existed.