In my periphery, Gio extracted himself from Vicki’s arms and took a few steps toward me. “What is it?”
“In my office.”
I wouldn't speak about it in front of her, regardless of whether he chose to tell her later. I always tried to shield my little sister, but I wasn’t in charge of her life.
“Lorenzo Mancini is dead,” I announced as soon as the door was closed behind us.
“What the fuck? How?”
His shock helped ground me, and I took a deep breath before answering. “Someone blew up the site he was setting up for us.”
“Who would do such a thing?” After a brief pause, he added, “That’s what you want me to find out.”
“Brennan and Barrett are looking into it.”
“But?”
Turning to him fully, I said, “But I want their work double checked. My father suggested I either test them to see if I can fully trust them or kill them. This is that test.”
“Got it.” I had my hand on the doorknob when he said, “For the record, I think they're trustworthy."
“We’ll see, won't we?”
Chapter Five
Sailor
After checking in with Berkshire, I got the green light to visit my parents. He assured me that not only was I not being followed by the Costas’ man anymore, but that an agent would follow me at a discreet distance just in case. It had been quite a while since I had taken the time to drive upstate to see them, but I felt like it was important to go.
Besides, I had so much to tell them.
As it often did, guilt overwhelmed me as soon as I pulled up to the mausoleum. They weren't interred under their given names, and for some reason that had always bothered me. At least the coverup wasn't as generic as John and Jane Doe, but someone in charge had made up first names with the same surname as mine. It felt wrong on so many levels, as though Carmine and Sofia Franco had been easily erased; as though they never really existed.
Visiting them brought on too many emotions. There was no reason to feel like a failure, and yet I did. I'd only been a child, so why did I think I could have saved them if I'd tried harder? Even now, with all the skills I’d learned, there was no guarantee I could save them both. Not on a dark roadside in the middle of nowhere, both of them riddled with bullet holes, and me all alone with no help.
But the feelings of inadequacy were always there anyway.
I ran my hand over their nameplate, wishing it read their true names. Wishing my offering of roses was worthy of the people they had been. Kind, caring, generous, and beautiful. Sometimes I worried their souls would never be at rest if I didn't solve their case. Maybe now, finally, some new piece of information would come to light. Maybe now someone would actually give a damn about who had shot my parents as we drove home from my dance recital.
Maybe my scars would finally serve a purpose. Physical, emotional, mental; I’d never been able to cure them.
Wiping the tears from my icy cheeks, I pulled my scarf tighter and rested my palm on the names Justin and Lauren.
“I finally gave in to their demands.” Feeling a sob working its way up, I choked it back. “But only for your sake. I would never do it for myself.”
I heard a car idling behind me and glanced around. Agent Parkes nodded at me, and I turned my back on him. So much for a discreet distance.
I couldn't even grieve in peace.
Letting it go, I recited the rosary and said my goodbyes. I’d never been religious as an adult—my thoughts about God being too tangled up—but the prayers were almost embedded in my memory from childhood. My mother especially wanted me to be a good person, to follow the teachings of the church, and do my best in life. Despite being hidden away in a tiny town upstate, I’d overcome all the obstacles set in front of me to become a surgeon.
When I was ready to go to med school, the most logical choice was Columbia University, but those in charge of my life refused to send me to New York City. Instead, I had to go to Perelman School of Medicine at UPenn, which wasn't a bad school; it just wasn’t Columbia. But they couldn't stop me fromgetting a job at the most prestigious hospital in Manhattan once I graduated.
Had I made my mother proud? Would she look at me now and see how hard I tried to save lives every day? Or had my tragic upbringing turned me into a bitter woman who drove everyone away?
Unwilling or unable to answer those questions, I tried to tell my parents about what I was doing at the Costa house. Unfortunately, all I could think about was Benito’s expression when he ordered his son to back off and let me help him through his coughing spell. It was almost as if he chose me over his son, and I realized Noah would feel threatened by that. It certainly wasn't my intention to thwart him or push him out of his father’s life.
Finally, I decided my visit was done. I didn't like Parkes watching me, and I was due at the Costa residence in a few hours.
