“You had words?—”
“Yeah, he’d cornered Minka in the hall, so I told him to beat it.”
“So it’s true?” Felix releases a heavy, shuddering breath and slams his fingers into his hair. “Cordoza said he saw you and Agosti.”
“Yeah! Talking! For two fucking seconds. Then it was done. Agosti was alive the last time I saw him, and I haven’t been alone for a single second since then.” Rage rolls over me like waves, wafting from my pores until Zora turns fussy, clenching her fists and kicking her little feet.
She feels my anger. My worry. My fucking disgust at the thought of Cordoza coming to my home to discuss a matter that has nothing to do with me.
“I left, Lix. I left New York. The family. The business. I stand with you when you need it, but I’m not part of that world anymore, and I’m definitely not whacking puny dicked mobsters at my own brother’s wedding.”
“You’d tell us, right?” Chewing on the corner of his lip, Lix grabs a stack of bowls and sets them on the counter. “I didn’t care for Anthony, which means I’m not gonna cry at his funeral. But if you popped him, you’d say so, wouldn’t you?”
“No!”
Stunned, his eyes flicker wide. “No?”
“No, I wouldn’t tell you, because you still subscribe to the New York rules. For as long as you don’t know, you can’t be punished for what your brother supposedly did. But no, Felix.” I lean closer, gritting my teeth. “I didn’t kill him. I’ve been in bed all night with my wife. Now I’m up, and I was kinda hoping to spend the day hanging with my family. I was gonna fire up the grill a little later. Swim in the pool. Hold my baby niece for a few minutes before she doubles in size again. Ya know, pretend we’re a normal fucking family for once.” I sling my gaze around to Micah. “You said he slit his wrists. Why would Cordoza assume anyone hit the prick—least of all me—when the scene is so clearly suicide?”
“He’s a suspicious man by nature.” He drags a stool away from the counter and perches on the edge, one foot on the bar at the bottom and the other on the floor. “I don’t know what he’s thinking. I haven’t been to the scene, and I haven’t seen the dead prick. All I know is that the wife got back to their room around three o’clock this morning. That’s when she discovered him. She came out screaming to hell and back, but before anyone could call the cops, Cordoza’s men circled and took control of the situation. He’s dealing with it in-house now.”
“Let’s just have a good day.” Felix fills a bowl with steaming scrambled eggs and slings it across the stone until it comes to a stop in front of me. “If it wasn’t you, and it wasn’t any of the rest of us?—”
“And not that we’ve asked, but I doubt it was Tim,” Cato adds. “Seeing as how he’s busy macking on his new bride.”
“It wasn’t Malone,” Felix declares solemnly, filling another bowl. Then a third. A fourth. “We have a relationship with Cordoza now, and no matter what words he thought he saw last night between you and Agosti, this has got nothing to do with us. He’ll come. He’ll ask. You’ll tell him it wasn’t you, and that’ll be the end of that.”
“Sure. Nice and easy.” I scoff. “Because the world I left half my lifetime ago is notorious for intelligent, rash decision-making and a fair judicial system.”
“It’s gonna be fine.” He leaves the last of the eggs in the pan and wipes his hands on a towel. Striding around the counter, he sweeps Zora clear out of my arms and kisses all over her face. Her cheeks. Her eyelids. Her plump lips and the triple serving of chin beneath. “We’re with family today, and that doesn’t happen often. Best of all, this is ZoZo’s first vacation where all her uncles are together again.” He looks to Cato. “Don’t forget the coffee, or Mayet will riot. Mary will come in and cook us something better in a second.”
Wrinkling my nose, I look down at the steaming bowl and spy portions of eggshell sprinkled throughout the fluffy scramble.
“Let’s go outside and see Mommy, Zo.” Felix stalks toward the door, like Cordoza’s imminent visit isn’t an axe hovering over my neck. Heappearsrelaxed. Unfeeling. But I see the tension in his shoulders. The clench of his jaw. “I keep forgetting who is the prettiest one, Zo. You or Mommy. I look at her, and I’m in loooove. But then I look at you, and I can’t think of anyone on this planet who could be so beautiful.”
“Come on.” Cato meanders around the counter, brushing my shoulder with his. “Cordoza’s a reasonable dude. It’s gonna be fine.”
“Yeah…” I shove the bowl of eggs away and release a tired grunt. “Sure it is.”
MINKA
“How are you feeling?” I approach the ten-seater wrought iron, glass-top table shaded under a massive umbrella already extended to its full potential, and taking out the chair closest to Steve’s wheelchair, I perch on the edge and look him up and down. From his nasal cannula, though I’m not entirely sure he needs that anymore, to the back of his sun-spotted hand, bruised from the many pokes and prods he’s suffered this past week.
He wears slippers on his feet, but shorts that sit askew, exposing his pale legs and skinny little ankles.
This may be the first time I’ve ever seen the man in something other than full-length slacks.
It’s oddly charming, if not for the ache in the back of my heart, reminding me ofwhyhe’s here in the first place.
Mary has him dressed in a button-up shirt and a wide-brimmed hat to shade his face, but I fold a little closer and get a peek under the brim. The whites of his eyes are white. The dark circles atop his cheeks are just a little lighter than they were a few days ago. “You look pretty good.”
“You satisfied now?” His grin borders on goofy, like his meds might be a little strong. But then again, it may just be the sunshine and pretty view, considering the Darling sisters giggling at the edge of the pool, casually peeling their shoes off, and whispering amongst themselves. “I don’t know how I feel about being babied by you, Ms. Mayet. The world feels upside down. I’m supposed to ask howyou’refeeling. I’m supposed to nagyou to take care of yourself. Feed yourself. Sleep a minimum of eight hours a night.”
“It’s okay to switch roles sometimes.” Christabelle happily reclines in her seat, one leg folded over the other, with a cup of tea hovering by her lips. Tiia sits beside her and simply closes her eyes, turning her face toward the sky, while Tiia’s brother broods on the end, watchful and silent. Dangerously curious, the way federal agents are known to be.
The crew’s all here.
“I’ve had the good fortune of being doctored by Chief Mayet.” Christabelle sips her tea and smiles behind the lip of the delicate cup. “Seems she knows what she’s doing.”
