Her eyes went a little wide.
“You had a shitty job.I couldn’t do it.”
“Adelmo was murdered.Johnny is being sought for a hit and run, butnotmurder.That means, someone on the police force and in the media buried details.It’s kind of… scary that in this day and age of cameras everywhere, and social media conspiracies that a crime like murder simply vanishes.Worse?Anyone with connection to Johnny Porn—Porciello vanishes, too.Except you.Even your sister is out of the country and beyond reach.”
Bridget was treading on dangerous ground.If she only knew how dangerous, she’d… I had second thoughts about what she’d do.Because once an agent, always an agent.I’d learned that lesson early enough.“Your point?”
“Your grandfather had over seventy binders on him.Those were the ones the task forcecouldread.You know, the ones not locked up for national security reasons.It’s like… someone is protecting you from beyond the grave.”
A chill rattled me.The familiar tingle of a fainting spell concentrated at my hands, but luckily didn’t creep any farther.I needed to find Ringo and tell him everything about this conversation.Too late, I realized that Bridget hadn’t just “happened” upon me at the apartment.She was stalking me.
Just like Johnny.
20
Ringo
Saturday morning my phone rang almost at the same hour as the sun rose.The first rays of light peeked through the curtains.Ellie, being a night owl, insisted they stay closed.I took the call in the formal living space so I could watch the sky shift and the lake glisten.“What’s up?”
“What Ellie says about her new friend is true.The woman was forcibly dismissed.”Mario’s voice was an unwelcome rumble before coffee.He had the advantage of being awake hours before me, and his unwavering logic ran circles around me on my best days.
“So, we don’t worry about her?”
“Did I say that?”
Fuck.I looked at the ceiling so I could stretch the tense muscles of my neck.“What happened to the days of clarity?”
“You stabbed me.”
“Nicked you.If I’d have stabbed you, you’d be dead.”
“Semantics.”
“Important ones,” I reminded him.
“Don Manca wants her handled internally.”
That would go over well with Ellie.Not.“Are you asking me, or telling me?”
“You’re smarter than this.”
“Thank you.”
Mario’s insult didn’t sound any better in Italian than it would in English.I ignored it.He needed to get it out of his system.Finally, he asked, “How is my wife’s sister?”
“Sleeping.”Finally.The nightmares were getting worse.It took forever to coax her into bed, and even longer to massage the knots out of her shoulders.
“When she isn’t sleeping, have her call my wife.Allie misses her.”
I’d bet.Ellie voiced the same opinion last night as she cried on my shoulder.“Did your wife once mention she was in therapy?”
Mario hesitated before replying, likely scanning his database brain for the answer.“She’s mentioned it.May I add, not fondly.”
Which would explain why Ellie was resisting getting help.“This new situation is a lot like when they were kids.”
“I’ll remind you that when they were children, they weren’t exposed to anything that could endanger them.But you insist on?—”
“I’m not the only one putting their woman in danger.You are, parading your wife around to all the families.”
