“I’m sure. Teo picked it up, too. We could get him in here to confirm if you like…” I began hopefully, but trailed off as Luca shook his head.
“I’m sure you of all people would know a Boston accent if you heard it.”
“But why would anyone from Boston care about Sam Fuscone?” I asked.
“We don’t know yet that they do,” Luca pointed out. “Sit down, angel,” he added softly, and when Finch did not, he went over and made Finch sit down next to me on the couch. “Now, Aidan,” Luca continued, giving me a small, encouraging smile. “Why don’t you start again and tell us what happened from the beginning?”
So I went over the whole incident yet again, and I told them what the man had said: that he wanted a chat about my ordination, although he’d never told me exactly what it was about my ordination that was bothering him. “I assumed at first that it was money. But it wasn’t that.”
“Iknow what it was,” Finch said in a hard voice, and both Luca and I looked across to him. “I’m the common denominator here, right? He wanted to kill you to get tome. Because you’re my friend.” The coldness in Finch’s eyes made me flinch. “Or maybe he was hoping to catch me there myself in the church. There are plenty of people in Boston who still want me dead.”
But Luca was frowning, his eyes meditative as he looked at Finch. “Of course, you’re very important to us all, Aidan,” he began, and then glanced at me to see how I was taking it.
“Ofcoursehe is!” Finch snapped, glaring at his husband, who returned his gaze mildly. “And if those Boston fuckers think they’re going to get to me by threatening my friends—”
“Isthat what’s going on, though?” Luca broke in, and looked at me again, his eyes bright with thought. I felt rather like a slide under a microscope and I began to wish I had asked Finch for a triple whiskey.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Teo came in and saved me before the man had a chance to tell me what he wanted from me.”
“And we’re all very thankful that Vitali was there,” Luca said patiently. “But it seems a foolish idea to attack a priest when his friends were literallyjustoutside on the steps of the church. And how did he get in, anyway? He certainly didn’t come through the front doors, because Carlucci and I were waiting there. And then Vitali went back in and stopped him mid-attack. But you say this man walked down the aisle towards you from the front doors?”
None of these considerations had occurred to me. “I have no idea,” I said at last. “I suppose he must have come through the community hall.”
“Then why sneak all the way around to the front just to approach you down the aisle? No. I think he’d been in there a while, biding his time. And that means hecouldhave taken a shot at Finch if he really wanted him dead.” Here, Luca looked at Finch, whose mouth fell open.
“Well, shit. That’s kind of true. So…maybe hewasn’tafter me?”
I couldn’t help letting out a snort of laughter at Finch’s astonishment. The idea that all matters in heaven and on earth didnotrevolve around him seemed a constant surprise to him.
“What’s so funny?” Finch asked.
“He’s in shock,” Luca said, though he was suppressing a smile of his own. “Anyway. We need to think further about this. Aidan, I’m glad Vitali took you back here. I’d like you to stay here tonight, so we can make sure there are no more attempts on your life.”
I had been about to refuse the offer, but the way he laid it out so plainly—an attempt on my life, was thatreallywhat it had been?—made me think twice. After a moment, I nodded. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
* * *
Teo leftbefore I had the chance to thank him again for what he’d done. Then, after dinner and more discussions, Finch hustled me upstairs and into a guest room. The time had passed very quickly and for me, it was late—I was usually very early to bed. But as I lay there wide awake, I couldn’t help replaying my fearbeforeTeo had saved me. The more I thought about it, the more familiar the man seemed, but when I tried to picture his face, transport it into different contexts, the memory wriggled away from me, like trying to grab hold of a fish in water. And the more I tried, the more the sensation of familiarity faded.
I turned over in the bed and reached out to touch the comforting beads of my rosary, which I’d left lying on the nightstand. I scooped it up and pressed it close to my lips, murmuring an Our Father. God would protect me; of that I was certain.
He’d made that perfectly clear by sending Teo Vitali to save me in the church.
Teo…
The memory of his protection, his arm around my shoulders, his hand on mine…I gave a shiver under the warm bedclothes, but not from cold.
I wrapped my fingers tighter around the rosary and tried to pray. But I found my mind wandering to Sam Fuscone, to the snap of his neck, the thump of his lifeless body on the floor. He had died at the hands of Luca D’Amato, and I needed to remind myself that the men under this roof, the men of the Morelli Family, were all criminals.
Even Matteo Vitali, with his velvety brown eyes.
And I—I was going to take my vows in one short week. Father Raphael had begun to make more insistent warnings about my close friendship with Finch, especially after the Central Park Slayer accusations against another Morelli Family member, Angelo Messina, who had disappeared from New York.
I thought again about Father Raphael’s advice.It is a hard life, this life to which God has called us. We must make sacrifices, even of those things wethinkstrengthen us—for God alone must be our strength.
It was painful to me to think that I might have to give up my close friendship with Finch. But on top of that, the idea that staying away from Finch meant I wouldn’t see Teo Vitali either struck even closer to my heart as I considered it.
But Father Raphael was right. There was no room for crime in a life of the cloth—much less violence and blood.Thatwas what Teo Vitali represented.
