Page 64 of Perfect Vengeance

One number down.

After letting out the breath she’d been holding, she inhaled and turned the dial in the other direction. Slow it down. If she turned too quickly, she’d miss it. Click.

Holy cow, I’m really doing it. This was safecracking in its purest form.

Exhale. Inhale and hold. Again, she turned the dial in the opposite direction. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Her lungs screamed. Whoosh. She exhaled, keeping her fingers in place on the dial.

She took in another breath and held it, turning the dial painstakingly slowly. Nothing. Nothing. Noth— Click.

Gina snapped open her eyes but didn’t move. With trembling fingers, she released the dial and grasped the silver handle. She cranked down and tugged. The door opened.

Did I really just crack a Burnbridge 5000? Yep. She smiled, wishing she could tell Sergio about it yet knew she’d be taking the secret of this triumph with her to the grave.

Inside the safe were three shelves and cash. Lots of cash. Again, her heart raced, only this time from sheer joy. She unzipped one of the duffels and shoveled cash into it from the top shelf. She zipped the bag closed, then began the same process with the second duffel, emptying the middle shelf and most of the bottom one. As she tugged the last of the bills out, her fingers contacted something hard. She stuffed the cash into the bag, then swept the flashlight beam into the back of the safe.

Eight small jelly jars stared back at her. Grabbing one, she turned it around, trying to identify the contents—a flap of something fleshy and dripping with black goo. Blood. Bile rose in her throat. It was an ear. Fairly fresh, judging by its condition. Jack was right. Tino really did collect souvenirs from his victims.

Unable to stop herself, she reached inside for another jar. The flashlight’s beam glinted off something metallic—a gold ring with a green gemstone. Something dark and shriveled was stuck through the ring. More bile rose in her throat, nearly making her gag. A man’s finger.

A whisper of sound. The stethoscope’s chest piece hung between her breasts, and she hadn’t removed the earpieces. She’d definitely heard something.

She wasn’t alone.

The lights snapped on, blinding her. The jar fell to the floor. She squinted, but not before glimpsing the slim woman standing in the doorway. The other woman gasped and held a hand to her throat.

Gina jerked back and fell ass first on top of one of the duffels. She yanked the stethoscope off and stared. Her heart thundered faster than a thoroughbred galloping down the track.

The woman’s face was puffy, but not from crying. From being beaten. Fresh bruises marred her cheekbones. Her eyes were bloodshot, and even from this distance the broken blood vessels were obvious.

“Wh-who are you?” the woman asked in a shaky voice.

Now it was Gina’s turn to gasp. “You’re Maria. Aren’t you?” Tino’s wife. While they hadn’t been introduced, she’d been at Tino’s side last night at the fundraiser.

So where was Tino? She could swear it had been him in the Caddy that had driven off.

“Y-yes. Do I know you?”

“Not exactly.” With her heart still thudding, she pushed to her feet. This was bad. Very bad.

The woman looked at the open safe. “You just robbed my husband.”

There’d be no getting out of this one. She nodded. “I did.”

Hysterical laughter bubbled from Maria’s throat. When it stopped, she put a hand to her heart and wavered, looking a second away from passing out.

Gina rushed forward and helped her to a chair, crouching beside her. “Lean over. Take deep breaths in slowly, then let them out.” At this point, she couldn’t be certain whether Maria was ill or having a panic attack. She clasped the woman’s cold, clammy hand.

After another minute, Maria’s breathing evened out, and she sat up straighter. “Why are you doing this?” Her eyes clouded with confusion. Eyes filled with pain and suffering.

At this point, what could the truth matter? “Because that money is blood money, and there are families that need it more than Tino and Franco Falzone.” It was impossible to conceal her bitterness.

Maria uttered a strangled laugh. “No. I meant, why are you helping me?”

She tried taking her hand back, but Maria held fast. “Because you’re in pain. I know what you’re going through.”

Maria shook her head. “How could you possibly know? You don’t—” Through puffy, beaten eyes, she stared harder at Gina. “Oh. Oh. You’re the woman from the fundraiser. You work for the women’s shelter.” She released Gina’s hand.

“In a way.” She nodded. Maria might be a Falzone, but Gina’s heart went out to her. “I help women like you. Women who can’t get free.” She waited to see what Maria would do. She’d expected her to scream or run for the phone and call Tino, but she didn’t. By some bizarre stroke of luck, she was listening. Really listening.