“He didn’t plant anything.”
“This is another Bruno trick, then. You’re trying to play me.”
“I swear I’m not. Armani, please. I’m telling you the truth.”
“Enough.”
I rip the picture out of her hand and shove it in my back pocket. It crinkles as I force it down, but I don’t care. At the first available opportunity, I’m burning the hell out of the damn thing. I never want to see it again.
“Armani—” Candi begins coughing, her slender body rocking violently.
I pour her some more water and rub her back as she sips it. It’s hard to be angry at her, and I know I shouldn’t be, considering what she’s been through, but I am. Or maybe I’m just pissed that someone would plant this idea in her head—maybe even Juliana herself—and persuade Candi to believe that it’s true. Because now she thinks she’s helping me, when really, she’s just playing another one of Sergio Bruno’s wicked hands.
“Get some rest. I have to make a call. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She doesn’t try to stop me but I pause at the door, uncertain if I should leave her alone. Her monitors are beeping softly and steadily, which I take as a good sign. If something were wrong, the beeps would be more chaotic, I suppose. Plus, the nurses’ station is right down the hall, so Candi is in good hands.
I head down the hall, take the elevator to the ground floor, and find a coffee vending machine. It’s almost four in the morning, so I’m awake for the day. The machine hisses and spurts and fills the paper cup with what looks like muddy water. It smells terrible, but I need the caffeine and the hospital cafeteria is still closed for another few hours.
Just up ahead, I see a sign for the public chapel. It’s empty when I step inside, which is its own kind of blessing. Ignoring the sign that says no food and drink, I make a silent promise to God not to spill my terrible coffee in His house, walk to the front, and take a seat.
I start mentally ticking off the list of things I need to do. It’s how I keep myself calm and focused. I need to follow up with Riggante again. There’s got to be something he’s not telling me. He’s too deep in this not to know anything.
Setting the coffee on the pew, I take out my phone and dial his number.
He answers on the third ring. “What now, Bellanti?”
I switch to Italian just in case someone walks into the chapel. Riggante easily switches to Italian as well.
“Did you find Orloff’s woman dead or alive?” I ask.
“We can’t confirm the body count yet. Just the three Bruno men dead outside.”
“What about the Russian?”
“Are you listening to what I’m telling you? Cops are still sifting through the wreckage. They might have to identify these people with dental records, for all we know. You need to be patient, my son. It will take days to sort out the IDs on the bodies.”
I close my eyes and take a breath. “So we have no idea if the mission was a success?”
“Everything I do is a success. You’d better remember that.Stammi bene.” Take care.
He clicks off and I listen to dead air for a few seconds before hanging up. Then I find a photo of Juliana that I forwarded to myself from Candi’s phone last week and text it over to Clayton with a message,Find out everything you can on this woman.
He texts back immediately.Is that Orloff’s fiancée?
Yes.
Do we have a last name?
Guerra, though that may be an alias. Get on it.
I let out a long breath, taking comfort in the fact that Clayton will work his magic. He’ll have an entire dossier on this woman in a couple of days. She might be a lot more dangerous than my brothers and I realized.
Against my better judgment, I take the crumpled picture out of my back pocket and smooth the edges carefully. The photo paper is decades old and brittle; I could’ve destroyed it just by crushing it in my hand. Despite the creases, the scene is easy to remember.
Liliana. Occasionally Lili, but never Lil. She was always adamant about that.
Dante and Frankie named their daughter after her. Liliana Grace. Now Candi wants me to believe that the original Liliana isn’t dead? That she’s been alive and well all these years?
