“Damn,” Gabby breathed, and we exchanged horrified knowing glances. If we’d made it to Slice as planned, it was safe to say things might not have ended well. We could have botched up the police’s plans or, depending on the timing, found ourselves alone with Rico and, as a result, might not be here to tell the tale.
“Rico told us what we wanted to know. He was more than happy to cooperate in exchange for us going easier on him. He gave up everyone—Butchy, Eric, and Anthony.”
I paused and took stock. “But not Sam?”
“Nope. Apparently, he was the only one of the group who actually delivered pizzas.”
“Well, at least they’re not all bad,” I sighed.
“Rico even told me how Dylan blackmailed Anthony into cutting him into the drug ring. He threatened to go to the IRS with everything he knew if he couldn’t profit from the deals too. Quite the busy guy.” His face reddened. “I’m sorry, Tess.”
Despite my initial suspicions, it still hurt to hear that my husband had been involved in Anthony’s shady dealings as well. “Go on with the story.”
“Rico said that Butchy blabbed to Anthony about you snooping in his office. He also said that you asked Butchy if they were dealing drugs there. Anthony must have figured you’d tell the police your theory,” Gino said. “The DEA is at Slice right now, going through the place.”
Even though I was exhausted and my body sore, I wanted to see for myself. “Can we stop there on the way home?”
Gino looked at me in amazement. “No.”
“Come on,” Gabby pleaded. “We’ll wait in the car.”
Maybe Gino felt bad about what we’d endured tonight, because to my surprise, he let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Okay, but only for a minute, and you’d better make sure to stay in the car.”
We went outside and piled into the back of Gino’s sedan. He continued talking as we drove along. “Lou’s back at Slice, watching it all play out. I think they’re almost done.”
Gabby placed a protective arm around my shoulders. “You know, I always thought it would be such a thrill to be involved in detective work and go on a high-speed chase. After tonight, I’m not so sure. I plan to appreciate the simple things in life for a while. A book, a cup of hot chocolate on a chilly evening, and good friends and family to laugh with.”
“Does that mean not having a different boyfriend every month?” Gino quipped.
She ignored him. “Suddenly, my little bookstore doesn’t seem so unexciting anymore. I need to start focusing more on marketing it anyway.”
Slice was ablaze with light—inside and out. Two men in navy-blue Drug Enforcement Administration jackets were standing in the open doorway of the kitchen, deep in conversation. A squad car was parked in the lot next to their van. Lou was standing at the side of the cruiser, chatting with a cop behind the wheel. Both men looked up briefly when we pulled in, then resumed talking.
Gino turned around in his seat. “I could kick myself, thinking how Anthony managed to fool us. Him and his little family-run business. I should have seen through it.” He shook his head ruefully.
“Don’t blame yourself,” I said.
“Rico said that Anthony told him he’d gotten the idea a few years ago about dealing drugs. This was when Slice was in the red and he’d thought about closing it down. Anthony knew someone who imported the stuff, and it was easy to find a supplier.”
My heart was heavy with sadness. “I wish Dylan had told me the truth.”
“We’ll probably never know exactly what he was thinking,” Gino admitted. “When I question Anthony and Butchy further, they might be able to shed some more light on everything. Greed can work like a disease, Tess. It’s probably of little comfort, but maybe Dylan figured if something happened to him, at least you’d be well provided for.”
“Yes, I’d thought of that too.” I had no idea what Dylan might have done with the money. Was it hidden somewhere? The cash meant nothing to me—it never had. All I’d wanted was Dylan. Now that he was gone, I had to move forward and try to find a way to live my life—without him.
“What about Vince and Isabella?” Gabby asked. “They must have been in on it too. Italian families always stick together.”
“Yeah,” Gino said. “Sort of like those meatballs you made last Christmas.”
“Hey,” she protested. “They weren’t that bad.”
He suppressed a smile. “Rico said that Isabella knew about the drug ring but, unlike him, wasn’t actually involved. Her girlfriends threw her a bachelorette party at a casino earlier tonight, so we’ll be making a little visit to her house tomorrow when she gets back. Strange as it sounds, Vince is clean. Warner—my boss—just got done with him. Vince is the one who actually owns Slice’s building. Anthony’s his half brother.”
That explained the considerable age difference between the two men. “But I thought Anthony was the owner.”
“He was originally, but he sold it to Vince a few years back when he needed the cash. That makes Vince his landlord, but it doesn’t appear that he’s ever had a genuine interest in running the business.”
“Was Dylan doing taxes for his restaurant in New York City?”
Gino nodded. “Briefly. When their former accountant retired, Anthony recommended Dylan, but after doing their return for one year, Dylan suddenly told them he had too large of a client list and recommended some other guy he knew. Shortly afterward, someone blew the whistle on the place, and Vince thought Dylan was responsible. He might have been, but reporting to the IRS can be done anonymously, so we may never know for sure.”
It did sound like something Dylan would have done—the old, honest Dylan, who I’d known and loved for so long. That was the memory of him I wanted to keep in my heart—not what he’d become since then.
Lou walked over to Gino’s side of the vehicle and leaned his arms against the open window. His green eyes shimmered with warmth as he stared in at us. “You two are looking much better than the last time I saw you. How are we feeling, ladies?”
Gabby smiled at him. “Excellent—now.”
Gino twisted in his seat and glared at his sister. “Gabs.” His tone was a warning, as if he knew exactly what Gabby was thinking. I was pretty sure that I did too.
Lou turned his attention back to Gino. “They’re about done, so I’ll be taking off shortly.” At that moment, another man in a DEA windbreaker came out of the building with two German shepherds.
Gino watched as they passed our car and got into their white paneled van. “Did they find more drugs?”
Lou nodded. “There were some buried inside coffee cans in the cooler. Guess they figured no one would look for drugs there. The dogs sniffed them out right away.”
“Getting back to the building for a second,” I said. “Did Vince happen to tell Sergeant Warner what he was going to do with it?”
Gino shook his head. “No idea. Warner didn’t mention anything to me, but I assume Vince will close it down. Guess we’ll be coming to your house for pizza from now on, Tess. How about tomorrow night for starters?”
We all laughed, but my mind was still preoccupied with thoughts of Slice. My dream of it as a cozy restaurant with families enjoying homemade chicken parmigiana, pizza, and penne started to fade into the recesses of my mind. It saddened me to think of all that potential going to waste.
“What’s wrong, hon?” Gabby asked me.
I smiled at her. “Nothing. I’m fine.” They had no way of knowing how much I wanted that building. It was calling to me in my mind—a voice that refused to be ignored. Someday, somehow, I vowed to make my dream happen.
Lou leaned further in the window. “So, what are you doing next weekend, Gabs?”
“No,” Gino grunted.
Gabby ignored her brother and batted her eyelashes at Lou. “What’d you have in mind, handsome?”
“If you
date her,” Gino warned, “I’ll have to shoot you.”
Twenty-Six
When I woke the next morning, it took a moment for me remember where I was—in my childhood bedroom. I glanced down at my watch to check the time, but my wrist was bare. Shoot. I must have lost it last night. And where was my phone? An image of Anthony stomping on it came to mind, and I shuddered inwardly. Oops, no phone either. Yes, I was on a roll already.
I stumbled into the connecting bathroom to take a shower. When I emerged ten minutes later wrapped in one of my mom’s thick cotton pink towels, I stole a glance in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Yikes. My lip, underneath the two Steri-Strips, was double its usual size, and my face looked drawn and pale. I was sorely tempted to lie back down and sleep the entire day away, but there was no chance of that happening. A nagging sensation in my brain alerted me to the fact that I’d forgotten something important about today, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what it was.
There were a few items of my clothing in the closet from the last time I’d stayed here, when Dylan had been away on a business trip over a year ago. To my amazement, the pair of jeans in the closet was baggy on me. I knew that I’d lost weight since Dylan’s death but hadn’t realized how much.
My mother knocked on the door and came in with a mug of coffee and a straw. “Here, sweetheart. Drink this.”
“Thanks, Mom.” The coffee was hot and strong, and I sipped it carefully. I’d been told by the doctor not to get the dressing on my lip wet for forty-eight hours.
My mom reached over to cup my face between her hands. “You’ve been through so much, my girl. I wish that I could take all the pain away. I also wish you hadn’t kept this a secret from me.”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
She frowned. “I’m always going to worry about you. You’re my only child. I love you and know how much you’re hurting.” Her voice faltered. “I still hurt too.” She didn’t go on, but there was no need to. It was evident how much she missed my father.
“I know that and love you too.”
She kissed my cheek. “Maybe you’d like to come stay with me for a while? You and Luigi, of course. We’d figure out a private room for him away from the dogs. You could put the house up for sale and move in permanently. I’d love the company.”
As much as I loved my mother, I had no desire to live with her again. “Thanks, Mom. I appreciate the offer, but I’m going to be fine on my own. It’s time to start rebuilding my life.”
Mom smiled in that knowing way of hers. “I understand. If you’ll remember, I had to do the same thing after your father died. It’s difficult but necessary.” She sighed. “Now, what would you like for breakfast?”
I shook my head. “I’d rather go home, if that’s okay. I want to see Luigi. Maybe we could make a quick stop first and see about me getting a new phone?”
“Of course. Let me get my keys.”
I finished my coffee, rinsed out the mug, and followed my mom to the curb where her SUV was parked. When we stopped at the provider’s store, I was relieved to discover that my contacts and photos would transfer over with no issues.
My mom glanced at me as she started the engine. “Justin called the house this morning. He wanted to know if you were okay. I offered to wake you, but he said no, that he would talk to you later.”
Lost in thought, I stared out the window. “He saved our lives last night. If Justin hadn’t come to the house and found my license and phone, no one would have even known that Gabby and I were missing until it was too late.”
A small smile formed at the corners of her mouth. “That man is in love with you, Theresa. I’ve always suspected, but it was obvious from his voice this morning.”
Incredulous, I stared at her. “How can you tell that from someone’s voice? Never mind. He pretty much told me already.”
She whipped her head around, startled, and barely missed hitting a car parked on the side of the road. “Mom! Watch the road, not me.”
My mother laughed. “I remember telling you the very same thing when you first started driving.” She paused for a moment. “I know it’s far too soon for you to even think about dating someone else. You still need time to grieve and decide where to go from here. It was hard for me too, remember? All I want is for you to be happy.”
“I know, and I appreciate you saying so. But I’d rather not talk about this anymore today because—” I stopped midsentence. Of course. With everything else that had happened, I’d almost forgotten what day it was. Today was Dylan’s birthday. “Dylan would have been thirty-one today,” I whispered.
Mom pulled the car into my driveway and patted my hand. “It will get easier. I promise. I won’t lie to you—it will take a long time, but hopefully one day, you can look back and remember the good times. Would you like me to stay with you?” She handed me the spare key to my house.
“Thanks, but I think I need to be alone for a while.”
She nodded. “Of course. How about going out for dinner tonight? My treat.”
I hesitated. “Maybe tomorrow instead?”
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up around seven.” She blew me a kiss before taking off.
I unlocked the front door and threw yesterday’s envelopes from my mailbox down on the coffee table, adding to the stack that had already formed the last couple of days. Luigi must have been asleep upstairs, because he didn’t appear to greet me. My new phone buzzed, and I lifted it out of my pocket and glanced down at the screen. Gino.
“Hey.”
“Are you home yet?” he asked.
“Yes, my mother dropped me off. What’s up?”
He cleared his throat. “Ned Reinhart spilled the beans and admitted to his part in We Care’s embezzlement scheme.”
“He confessed? Why now?”
Gino went on. “He didn’t have much choice. We Care sprung another surprise audit after they got an anonymous tip that Reinhart was involved in the first theft with Dylan.”
“I knew he was in on it.”
“Well, you were right,” Gino admitted. “When Dylan got wind of the whole thing, Reinhart bribed him to keep it a secret. Then We Care got suspicious, so he threw Dylan under the bus. Dylan wanted his share and threatened to go to the police. I’ve got a feeling Ned will be going away for a long time.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “I see. Thanks.” What else was there left to say? It was still painful having to face the truth about my husband’s deceitfulness.
Gino cleared his throat. “Oh, I almost forgot. Your watch must have fallen off last night when you were in the back of my car. I’ll bring it by later.”
“Thanks. Come over for lunch. I’ll make you some penne with tomato sauce.”
“Tess, don’t go to any trouble,” he said. “You’ve had a rough night.”
While he spoke, I was already taking a saucepan out of the cupboard. “It will help me to unwind.”
He chuckled. “Well, I haven’t eaten yet and happen to be starving, so you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ve got a meeting scheduled with my boss first. How does an hour sound?”
“Perfect.” I disconnected and was about to remove a package of sauce from the freezer when I recalled the batch from yesterday. Gino had arrived to escort me to the police station, and I’d left it in the fridge. I emptied the container into the pot and put water on for the penne.
As I stirred the sauce, my thoughts returned to last night. An involuntary shudder went through me when I remembered Butchy with the gun. Thank goodness the police had shown up when they did.
I drained the penne and set it aside. When the sauce started to bubble, I adjusted the burner to its lowest setting. Butchy’s face continued to haunt me, and my heart ached for his mother. As Butchy had been led away to the squad car, he’d kept insisting in a childlike voice that he had never killed anyone. His wor
ds from last night repeated in my head.
I’m looking forward to killing someone for the first time.
There was no doubt in my mind that Anthony and Butchy would have finished the job if given the opportunity. They were confident we wouldn’t be around to see the light of day, so why lie about Dylan’s murder? Why not brag about their conquests instead?
If they hadn’t killed Dylan or Eric, that meant a killer was still lurking out there somewhere.
Goose bumps arose on my arms. I rubbed at them viciously and wandered back into the living room. My eyes came to rest on the boxes from Dylan’s office still sitting on the floor. The lid on the top box was slightly crooked. Had Luigi been sitting on it? With my heart thumping against the wall of my chest, I slowly lifted the lid and gasped out loud.
The papers inside were a mess. When I’d opened the box yesterday afternoon, everything had been in order. Someone had been in this box while Gabby and I were fighting for our lives last night. But who? What did it all mean? Had Butchy been telling the truth when he said he’d never killed before? A nagging sensation swept over me. If Anthony or Butchy hadn’t killed Dylan, then the killer was still out there—somewhere.
I was done taking chances. With my fingers shaking, I removed the cell from the pocket of my jeans to call Gino. A step sounded on the stairs behind me, and the air went out of my lungs. Fear lodged in my throat, and I couldn’t breathe.
Please don’t let this be happening.
Something cold, hard, and now familiar pressed into my back as a deep voice rumbled in my ear. “Drop the phone and hand over the pictures, or I’ll shoot you.”
Like fog lifting from the sky, everything had become abundantly clear. Of course. There was someone else who’d wanted my husband out of the way—someone who had been jealous of the attention Izzy had given him. Another man who wanted to claim the Italian princess as his own. His statement from the other day burned into my brain.
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