Maybe I was a coward to go instead of staying and defending myself. Chances are good I’d be as dead as Umberto if I had.
But I’m not that twenty-three-year-old kid anymore. Someone has to pay for killing my mentor, framing me, and forcing me to leave Elena.
My phone buzzes with a text from Gabriella.
Let me know what you find out. I'm here if you need anything.
At least my sister believes in me.
She had a moment to question whether I should wait, but when I accused her of being like everyone else, she stepped up, offering her unwavering support.
The GPS directs me to exit toward a nondescript diner off the highway.
This Carl Bishop spent a few months as Umberto's cellmate before Umberto's death.
If anyone knows what happened in those final days, it's him.
I park and sit for a moment, gathering my thoughts. This conversation could change everything.
At the same time, I need to prepare for it to change nothing.
The bell chimes as I enter.
I recognize Carl from his mug shot in Joe’s file.
He’s in his mid-fifties, with a weathered face and wary eyes that constantly scan the room.
He's nursing a coffee in the corner booth.
"Carl?" I slide into the seat across from him. "Appreciate your meeting me."
“Don Monti.” So word has reached him. Joe’s file indicates Joe was into a lot of criminal activity, but he wasn’t a soldier in any family in New York.
The waitress comes by.
“I’m paying. Whatever you want,” I say.
With that, Carl orders a burger, double fries, a milkshake, and pie for dessert. I order the same just to make it easy.
“You shared a cell with Umberto Vitale?”
“I did. Why?”
“He was a friend of mine, and I don’t like that someone put him in jail and murdered him.”
He cocks his head. “That was a long time ago, and now you want to know?”
I narrow my eyes at him, and he sits back as if he finally connects what it means that I’m a Don.
“But hey, it’s your dime.”
“It is. Did he tell you anything?”
Carl takes a long sip of his coffee, eyes never leaving mine. "Umberto wasn't stupid. He knew someone set him up from the beginning."
"Did he mention who?" I lean forward.
"He had his theories." Carl's voice drops lower. "First he thought it was a young upstart he was mentoring. I’m assuming that’s you. Said the kid was conveniently late when he got busted. But that changed.”
