Her arms were elbow deep in the bag, and when she pulled them out, each one held a thick stack of money.
Big Tommy scowled at her and tried to take the cash, but she darted behind him and held it up in a game of keep-away even though Big Tommy had a full foot on her. With a heavy sadness I couldn’t quite understand, I moved to Vonnie’s side and took the money from her, dropping it back into the bag and zipping it.
To Frankie, these bags were nothing more than loaded down with cold hard cash, but to me the value wasn’t in the money but in the symbolism. Westley finally paid. My heart sank, and I barely noticed the men moving around me as they relocated each of the bags. I should’ve questioned why it took my cousin so long to pay Frankie’s ransom, but all I acknowledged was this meant I had to leave. My lips quivered at the thought, and I followed the men into Frankie’s office while his men deposited the bags along one wall.
Vonnie kept step with me and scrutinized everything intensely as I sat in the seat behind Frankie’s desk where I’d been earlier.
She picked a chair on the other side where I usually sat when Frankie was in the room. “Okay, now I need all the details,” she said, looking as if she wanted to open another bag to confirm the contents of all ten.
We stared at the bags. They weren’t as full as the ones in the Navy Pier bathroom. Based on how deep Vonnie had her arm in the one, they had to be only half full. Was it possible my cousin really had paid the full ten million earlier but now he was doing so in the specific way Frankie demanded? He said so, but at this point I didn’t know who to believe.
I should’ve stuck to my story and been grateful at the exchange, but I couldn’t stop my eyes from growing watery. Without thinking about it, I stood and walked along the ten bags, dropping myself on the couch when Vonnie met me halfway and took a seat at the other end.
“I’m sad to see all that money leave too, but listen, you can’t steal from Frankie Zanetti. Bad things happen to people who steal from Frankie.”
She laid her hand on my shoulder for a second before thinking better of it and removing it. “Do you know why Frankie has ten duffel bags full of money? How much money is it?” she asked, watching my face closely for an answer.
“Ten million,” I replied, sure of my answer unless Frankie demanded more after the warehouse.
Vonnie leaned back on the couch, her eyes wide, staring at the bags as if they might get up and walk out on their own. “This is crazy.”
“I know.” My eyes grew heavy with the unshed tears.
“This is really crazy. I’d seen no evidence of Frankie getting up to weird shit in his house. He is meticulous about keeping his secrets. This is the first time he’s slipped up. Why did Frankie screw up now?” she asked to no one in particular.
My first sob broke through at her admission. Not only did his house get shot at, his warehouse blown up, but now someone in town was aware and had proof Frankie was more than the businessman he pretended to be. They may have had thoughts or accusations before, but all Vonnie had to do was take a picture, and everyone in town would learn the truth. All these things happened because of me.
Another sob burst through when Vonnie placed her hand on my back and rubbed a small circle. “It’s not your fault, Shiloh. You didn’t do this.”
Her soothing only made me cry harder. “It is my fault. My cousin paid my ransom and now I have to leave.”
“Holy shit.” She paused and her gentle patting moved to my knee. “Okay then.”
She stared at my quivering lips, catching way too many details. “And you leaving is a bad thing?”
I may have been heartbroken and distraught, but I was smart enough not to answer her question… at first. But then I did anyway. I shook my head and then nodded. “I don’t know.”
My emotions were all mixed up inside, like a big twisting, twirling tornado. One minute I couldn’t wait to get back to Chicago and the next I fantasized about spending the rest of my days in Pelican Bay.
Except if I was truthful with myself, that was a lie, too. I hadn’t considered going back to Chicago in many, many hours. Days if I was totally honest. But a girl like me belonged in Chicago, not Maine.
“I see,” Vonnie said, her hand on my knee turning to harder pats.
But she didn’t see. Frankie had a persona he played in town, but I wondered how many people saw the authentic person behind his veneer. “He’s really not so bad.”
The man was funny and patient. He took care of me and made pancakes, even though I should’ve been in a dungeon shackled to a wall getting tetanus. He didn’t go bad guy when my presence got his warehouse blown up, and even though he ate a piece of my pie with no remorse, I’d let him do it all over again to see the way his face lit up.
“We can’t help the ones we fall in love with, even if it doesn’t make any sense to us.”
I listened to her words, not responding but letting each one hit my heart with its truthfulness. Vonnie may have been young, but it sounded as though she had years of experience in this department. I’d been about to agree with her and seek more comfort when a body blocked the light coming in from the office door and Frankie found us on the couch. He rushed to me, pushing Vonnie out of the way and taking her spot.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, obviously unaware of all the things gone wrong the last few days. There was an entire list of “what’s wrongs.”
Another shadow crossed over him as Vonnie snuck out of the office. I let her go, not sure how to thank her and also threaten her to tell no one what we’d spoken about. Something told me it wouldn’t matter anyway.
Frankie’s large palm cupped my chin, and he tilted my head toward him. “This is unacceptable. I can’t come home and find you crying on the couch. Did Vonnie say something?”
I shook my head. We actually never got to the reason Vonnie was here in the first place. All of her reasons for visiting didn’t matter at the discovery of the duffel bags.
