“Was Nick a relative of yours?”
“He was my boyfriend. My high school sweetheart. He was shot in front of my father’s pizzeria.”
Oh shit. I remembered the story now. God knows I’d read everything I could get my hands on when I’d started working for Vince Ginocassi. Nick Spagnoli, theeighteen-year-old son of Big Nicky, one of her father’s underbosses, was killed in broad daylight walking out of Gino’s Pizza with his dad. It was assumed he’d been caught in mob-related crossfire, and as far as I knew, no one had ever been arrested for the murder.
“I’m sorry, Juliette.”
She sniffled back tears. “I haven’t thought about Nick in a long time, and hearing you say Sonny’s name made me feel guilty for that.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, but I wanted to make her feel better. “Did Nick love you?”
Juliette nodded.
“Then he wouldn’t want you to carry grief with you every day. He’d want you to find peace and move on.”
“Thanks.” She wiped a tear and tried to force a smile, but it looked more like a wilted flower. “Would you mind giving me a few minutes alone?”
“Of course.”
After I closed her door, I stood there a moment, listening. It sounded like the floodgates had opened. Part of me wanted to go back in and hold her, but I decided to respect her privacy.
Out in the living room, I sat for a while. Juliette hadn’t eaten any dinner yet, so I thought about making something in case she got hungry. Then a better idea hit me. Frankie had texted me the numbers of the two guys watching the house. I’d seen their car outside earlier, so I went to the front door to check that it was still there before calling.
“Hey. It’s Wes.”
“Everything good?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. But I need a few things from the store, and I have to stay here. Can you make a run for me?”
“I don’t know. We’re supposed to be watching the house.”
“Vince knows I’m sending you,” I lied.
“All right then. What do you need?”
“I’ll text you a list.”
Forty-five minutes later, there was a light knock on the door. I’d watched the Mustang come back down the block, but I checked the peephole before answering anyway.
A guy I recognized as Eddie Guiliano shook his head. “What the hell do you need all this shit for?”
I took the bags. “Don’t worry about it.”
The guy shrugged. “Whatever. You know where to find me.”
Juliette still hadn’t come out of her room, so I had time to set up alone. When I was done, I knocked on her door again. “Juliette?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you come out for a minute?”
“Do I have to?”
I paused. “No. But I’d appreciate it if you did.”
She padded from her room wearing ratty sweatpants, her eyes pink and puffy from crying. When she saw the living room, her little nose scrunched up. “What’s all this?”
“You couldn’t go out to karaoke and cocktails tonight, so I brought karaoke and cocktails to you.”
