Emily's gaze didn't shift from the driver for a minute but it seemed like a lifetime. She recognized him; he was one of Cosgrove's men.
The passenger door of the car swung open. A man stepped out wearing a generic security uniform that carried no insignia. He didn't reach for a gun; he didn't need to. He simply gestured toward the open door with a calm authority.
"Mr. Cosgrove would like a word, Ms. Torredo," the man said. His voice lacked the aggressive, malicious tone Tony's men carried. This was different. This was calm, professional but still had the crude edge of the city's underworld.
Dave Cosgrove was a professional who doesn't just make threats; he executes. And Emily knew that. Her eyes darted toward the other end of the alley, it was a dead end of bricks. Then back at the car, she steadied her breath. She counted her steps as she walked forward.
"Does my husband know about this?" she asked.
"It won't be long."
