I sit up, hugging my knees, Alessandro’s jacket still loose over my back as I do. He’s much broader in the shoulders than I am. “Help find your father’s killer.”
The silence down here is profound, like the darkness. But at last Julian breaks it. “Sandro believes thatIam the killer. Or he wants to believe it, anyway. Not that it makes much difference, since he plans to keep me here in the meantime.”
“But if you’re innocent—”
Julian laughs at that, a real, delighted laugh. “Oh, Teddy MacCallum. I haven’t been innocent since I was five years old. I didn’t kill Ciro, but that makes no difference to my brother.” He gives a little sigh. “A new Don Castellani rules the Family now. One word from him, and I’m dead.”
I’m pretty sure that if Julian Castellani were ever convicted of even aquarterof the crimes he’s supposedly committed, he’d be looking at the death penalty in one or more states. But if he didn’t kill his father, it doesn’t seem fair that Alessandro is keeping him down here. “How long have you been—”
“Since the hour my father was murdered. Let me tell you, Teddy MacCallum…” His voice sounds deadly serious. “My tan will need some serious work when I get out of here. And that’s where you come in.”
“Me?”
“Whatever you’re doing to, with, or for my brother, he obviously likes you.”
I can’t help laughing at that. “I mean, he abducted me and locked me down here in the dark…does that count as liking me?”
“Oh, it very muchdoes.” Julian sounds so sure of himself that it’s hard to argue with. “You’re alive, aren’t you?”
I’m alive…so far. I’d like to keep it that way. “What do you think I can do?” I ask carefully. I feel like I’m making a deal with the devil—but at least this devil isinterestedin making a deal. Alessandro wouldn’t even listen to what I had to say.
“I want you to do exactly what you said—help find my father’s killer. Convince my brother that I’m innocent. Give me a chance to get out of thisbox.” He hisses out the last word, making me shudder.
“Areyou innocent?”
“I told you. Yes.”
I take a few deep breaths. It’s not like I have anything else to do down here except sleep, and sleep won’t help me when—orif—Alessandro comes back. But if I can learn some new information in the meantime, knit it together with some of the theories I’ve read on the message boards…
“Tell me what happened,” I say. “And don’t leaveanythingout.”
CHAPTER8
SANDRO
Jacopo arrivesthe next morning at 8 a.m. exactly, as ordered. In the old days, he was more lax and I was more forgiving.
In the old days, we were still friends.
But we are no longer friends, and one benefit is that it’s made him timely.
Wilson shows him onto the breakfast patio, where I sit in my underwear and a pair of aviator sunglasses, enjoying the morning sun along with my coffee. The warmth of it across my chest makes me think of Teddy momentarily, the feel of him pressed up against me last night as I tried to calm him before putting him into the darkness with Julian.
I spent some time last night searching for information on a Teddy MacCallum. He has thisCute Crimswebsite and several YouTube channels, most of which lie dormant now, several of which had breathless videos about Mafia history. He certainly has an online presence. But I could not find any further information on him. No police record, no obvious links to anyone who would want blackmail material on me, and his parents—while wealthy—are uninteresting. A tech billionaire father and a CEO mother. I passed his name on to security for a background check, but I don’t expect anything to come up. If heisan FBI plant, then—like the unfortunate Frankie Serra—he’ll have background cover. And probably better, this time around, if the FBI are trying again to break into our ranks.
I’ve also checked the night vision video feed from the cells. He and Julian stayed up late, talking, Julian proclaiming his innocence, telling the same story he’s told me over and over. He came in, saw our father lying there in a pool of blood, and checked for a pulse.
They’re both sleeping now. Once Teddy stirs, I’ll consider my options.
In the meantime, I have a Family to run.
“PacSyn aren’t happy, Boss,” is the first thing Jacopo says to me.
“I’m not in the business of making them happy.”
“They think you killed their guys last night,” Jacopo continues. “Of course, you and I know thatcan’tbe true, since you wouldn’t be dumb enough to walk into a trap like that without me as backup. Right?”
I pull off my sunglasses and give Jacopo a long, cold look. I can see the exasperation in his face, but he’s wise enough to hold his tongue. I shove the sunglasses back on. “What do you want from me, Jacopo? I can’t raise the dead.”
