A smile crept up Arturo’s face, “Ahh, you have a plan,si?”
“I might,” Nico stood. He had to leave and figure out just how to enact his plan. It started forming in his head on the drive over to The Racebook. Whatever he did, he had to make it quick. “I’ll let you know when I have more details.”
Arturo’s lips pursed, “You would have made a good soldier,figlio mio. Acapo, even.”
Nico looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, “Not this again,Zio. You know I made my choice a long time ago. I don’t break my promises.”
Arturo waved his hand, “Your mother is dead, God bless her soul. She can’t reach out and choke you from the grave.”
You’ll never enter that life, Nico. Promise me.
Nico turned the doorknob, “Goodnight, Zio.” Nico made his way out of the gambling den and around the corner of the building. He returned to the underground garage and sat in his car. Clenching the wheel, he closed his eyes.
Sometimes he regretted not entering the life. Then he remembered the promise made to his mother right before she died.
Nico didn’t break his promises.
Not even for family.
Chapter 3
ExcitementfilteredaroundAutumnas she walked through Yankee Stadium. Families chattered excitedly nearby, and a boyfriend draped his arms around a girlfriend’s shoulder as he stood at the counter of a concession stand. The cashier handed over two large, frothing glasses of beer.
If she didn’t already feel out of place in the line to get into the baseball park, Autumn felt it now.
This wasn’t a social outing. Since Autumn never returned Nico Scala’s phone calls, he resorted to becoming more creative.
A week after the calls, she received an envelope with a Yankees ticket at the NYPD station with a small note hidden inside.
Humor me. -N. Scala
Autumn got hell from Hererra about the Yankees ticket as he was a Mets fan. Add that to the fact that she never went out, and the detective became suspicious. It wasn’t every day she went out to meet some mysterious person on a date.
Bringing herself back to the present, Autumn looked around for the section she was supposed to sit in. An usher gestured in the general direction she should go. Finally, she found the area and walked down the stone steps. She noticed a familiar pair of broad shoulders. Nico Scala wore a black t-shirt and sat hunched over with a blue and white Yankee’s cap pulled low on his head.
Autumn wasn’t blind or dead. That first meeting with the man made parts of her lying dormant for the last several years spring to life. It was like a light bulb went off in her body and wouldn’t shut off. She refused to act on those feelings. It wasn’t wise for anyone to get close to her and learn all her secrets, which were best locked in the closet.
It seems someone was trying to open that door.
With a deep breath, Autumn moved down the aisle and sat next to Scala. She watched the visiting team practice on the field. This was the first time she’d seen a game live–If she stayed for the whole thing.
“You mind telling me what you want, Scala? I have work to do.”
“Ouch.” Scala turned to her, his face pinched as if wincing. “I heard you were a hardass, Autumn. I didn’t realize you would be so up front at the very beginning of our relationship.”
Autumn gave him a tightlipped smile. “Subtly isn’t my middle name, Mr. Scala. And you can call me Miss Taylor. You don’t have the right to call me by my first name.”
“And the hits just keep on coming,” Scala murmured. He shook his head and gave Autumn a lopsided smile. It almost made Autumn’s heart triple beat. “I prefer you call me Nico. Mr. Scala makes me sound ancient.”
“Mr. Scala, please drop the bullshit and tell me what you want.” Autumn’s irritation was getting the best of her. She wasn’t responsible for the words that came out next if he kept up with the charm. “And if it has anything to do with the Casale case, my answer is no.”
He blinked at her, then looked back at the ballfield. “No, you don’t have answers about Catarina’s death or, no, the police department wasn’t going to give a grieving father the details about his murdered daughter the night she was found?”
“I can’t speak for the actions of the NYPD.” She wasn’t privy to how they did things. Her job was to analyze the crime scene and try to find the killer. Autumn looked at the field again. “The case isn’t closed yet. We’re still interviewing family and friends.”
“What about Blue Navarro, the owner of Cat Tails?”
Autumn whipped her head back over to him. “What do you know about Cat Tails?”
