“I’d like to speak to you alone,” I said to Finch. Aidan stopped eating, his fork half-way to his mouth, and frowned.
Finch raised a hand in dismissal, and his bodyguard stood at once. Aidan was both a little slower and less pleased about it, but within a few minutes, we were alone in the kitchen. Finch kept eating, spooning tiramisu into his mouth and sucking on the spoon, eyes on the mute television.
“I want to keep this between us,” was how I started.
“Obviously. Go on.”
“You once told me you would make a better friend than an enemy. So I’m asking you now to be my friend. To help me.”
“Whaddya need, G-man?”
“I want to take my shot with Ethan Villiers.”
Finch’s eyes returned to me. “Hm.”
“I was thinking…” I took a deep breath. “I was thinking about how he did all this, set it up. Walsh, for example, he was always so fixated on the Morellis, despite Villiers pointing out other avenues of investigation. Only I think now Walsh wasn’t fixateddespiteVilliers, butbecauseof him. Villiers knew just how to play the Captain. Reverse psychology is crude, but my God, it works,” I said bitterly. “So maybe we could use it to lure him out, even get a confession.”
It was particularly galling to know that Villiers had used the exact same tactic onme.
I’d intended to study the Giulianos for my thesis, and Villiers had agreed, saying it would be much easier to study them than a Family with more complex and mature psychologies, like the Morellis. And Walsh might have threatened me about getting too close to Angelo, but it was Villiers who’d driven home how forbidden he was.
You are young and stupid…If I hear a single word of you associating with anyone in the Morelli Family outside of sanctioned work protocols, I will kick your ass out of this task force so fast it’ll make your head spin.
Yes. He’d known just what to say to make me determined to prove myself in his eyes, prove myselfright, because I always had to be right, didn’t I? And that was on me. My ambition and my arrogance had led me to follow Angelo at night while I was off-duty, and allowed Villiers to set me up as a scapegoat, along with the Morellis.
On the other hand, I wouldn’t have given up that time with Angelo for anything in the world. Villiers might have lit the spark, but it would have died fast if there hadn’t been any tinder there already. As far as Angelo Messina went, I’d been intrigued as a student, obsessed as an agent, and now captivated as a man.
I knew Angelo was a criminal. I knew he’d brought death and misery to many. But every moment I’d spent with him had shown me a different side to him as well, made me fall harder, deeper in love. His beauty and his competence were renowned. His courage, his compassion, his self-sacrifice—these were things I’d only gotten to know about him during our time together.
At his heart, I believed Angelo Messina to be a good man who had never really had a chance to be anythingbutbad.
The only thing worrying me was how he’d react to me pointing out the reality of what Tino Morelli had done to him. It would require a seismic shift in his understanding of himself and his life, the kind of thing a therapist should help him navigate. I was no therapist, and I couldn’t see him going to one.
But maybe together we could find a way through…once I’d dealt with Villiers.
“How are you planning to lure him out?” Finch was asking.
“I thought if we got word to him that Angelo would be somewhere at a particular time…”
“You mean he might get such a hard-on at the idea of murdering your boyfriend that he’d forego backup? Try to take him out instead of take him in?”
“Pretty much.”
Finch ate another spoonful of tiramisu, watching me, before he asked his next question. “Why aren’t you talking this over with Angelo?”
“Because I want to do this alone. And he’d say no way, or he’d want to come. I don’t want him in danger. He’s given up enough for your Family by now, hasn’t he?” I fixed Finch with a challenging glare, and he grinned back.
“That’s Angelo’s call to make. Anyway, what’s your end goal? You plan to convince this Villiers guy to make a full and convenient confession?”
“Hopefully.”
“And if not?”
I just looked back at him. Finch cocked his head to one side as he realized for himself what I planned to do. “Ah,” he said, and smiled.
“So how about it?” I asked. “Will you be my friend?”
* * *
