I call HR and request a copy of her file to be emailed to me. I’ll talk to Ben at the house and ask for the security file. There’s a specialist division within Caltimore Holdings who conducts full background checks on employees for the five families upon request. No one is hired into the Accardi Company without a background check, so it’s possible Lavinia is trying to access my office for legitimate reasons. But my gut is telling me she’s up to something. I want someone to take another look at her file. If she’s working for McDermott or the rat, someone’s head will roll for this.
We head onto US-1 N, and the traffic eases considerably, and from there, it doesn’t take too long to reach the Mazzone estate where Mom and Leo live in their own lavish mansion on the vast grounds of the property.
“Don’t tell Mom what I told you,” Caleb says as we grab the gifts for our stepdad from the trunk of my car. “She’ll only worry.”
I grab the bouquet of flowers from the back seat. “Dude, she’ll always worry about us. It comes with the territory.”
“Well, I don’t want to add more worry onto the pile. She has her hands full with Rosa and Leif, her job, and her charity work.” Mom went back to NYU as a mature student and completed her medical studies. Now, she is assigned to the officialmafiosomedical team. The team of surgeons, doctors, and nurses are employed by the five families to handle our medical needs.
Sierra Mazzone set up a foundation to help victims of human trafficking a couple of years ago in partnership with Moonlight, an organization founded by Keanu Kennedy’s wife Selena. All the woman who volunteer at the foundation aremafiosowives, and they give their time for free so all the money raised through the various fundraising efforts goes directly to the people who need it. Mom works there two mornings a week while our younger half-siblings are at school.
“I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.” I lock my car as the front door opens and our sister and brother charge out of the house, making a beeline for us.
Caleb sets the gift bag on the ground to scoop our nine-year-old sister into his arms. “How’s my littleprincipessa?” he asks, nuzzling his nose into Rosa’s hair as she wraps her arms and legs around him.
“Hey, Joshie.” Leif winds his bony arms around my waist. “Wanna play PlayStation? I got the new Spider-Man game for my birthday.”
“You betcha, little dude. I just need to talk to Uncle Ben first.”
The kids run off to the playroom while we make our way toward the kitchen. Delicious aromas waft in the air as we walk through the house. “Fuck, I’ve missed Mom’s cooking.” Caleb runs a hand across his toned stomach. “I literally have wet dreams about her apple cake.”
“You and me both, buddy,” Leo says, chuckling as he steps out of his study on our right.
“Hey, old man.” Caleb pulls him into a brief embrace. “I think I see more gray,” he teases, squinting at Leo’s hair. It’s still dark, like our siblings, with only a few gray strands.
“Less of the old man, punk.” Leo grabs Caleb into a headlock. “Haven’t you heard fifty is the new forty?”
“I thought I heard voices.” Mom walks toward us with a wide smile, wiping her hands on the front of her apron.
“Hey, Mom.” I lean in as she clasps my face in her hands, kissing both cheeks, before yanking me into her arms.
“I’ve missed you both.” She envelops me in her warmth and the comforting smell of Chanel No. 5.
I hand her the flowers when we break apart. “From both of us.”
Tears well in her eyes. “You’re such good sons. Always so thoughtful.” She hugs me again.
“Thanks, Caleb.” She pulls him into a hug after releasing me.
“Something smells delicious,” Caleb says, readily sinking into Mom’s embrace.
“Happy birthday, Leo,” I say, clapping him on the back. I don’t give him our gift, already knowing Mom will want everyone to give him their gifts together after we’ve eaten.
“It’s good to see you, kid. I hear shit’s really hitting the fan on the streets.”
“Yeah, it’s not good, and we can’t catch a break.”
“Maybe the five of us should talk in the morning before you head back to the city.”
“It can’t hurt to discuss it.”
Leo and Alesso are part of the Mazzonefamiglia—as underboss andconsigliere—and not involved with the street trade. As “outsiders” they might have some suggestions we haven’t considered. “I need to talk to Ben now about something that’s cropped up. What time will he be here?” Dinner isn’t until six, and we’re early. I was figuring I could talk to Ben in the meantime about the Lavinia problem.
“I’m here,” Ben opens the door from the inside of Leo’s study, holding a tumbler of scotch in his hand.
“Can we talk?”
“Of course.”
