“So talk,” he said sullenly.
“It’s you who needs to do the talking. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
She wasn’t going to make the mistake of leading him, suggesting he should be upset by something he’d heard the night before.
“If you don’t know, then it doesn’t matter, does it?” He threw down his napkin and stood.
“Drew, sit. Finish eating.”
“I lost my appetite. Maybe you can give the leftovers to your new boyfriend.”
“Gideon isn’t a boyfriend.”
“Then what is he, Mom? I saw him kiss you. It was the middle of the night. I’m not naive. I’m seventeen.”
Not quite. He was still sixteen, but she wasn’t going to argue the point. She had to come up with something to explain Gideon.
She tactfully began, “It’s difficult being alone so much when you’re used to a man’s company. David has been gone for quite a while now—”
“Eight lousy months. Charlie’s mom waited longer than that after she divorced his dad.”
A stab of relief shot through her. Was that it, then? Drew thought Gideon was her new boyfriend and he was upset because to him that meant she was cheating on his father?
“You’re sure that’s all that’s bothering you?”
Drew looked at her, the cold glint in his eyes reminding her of Michael. “What else could it be, Mom? What else have you done?”
Without waiting for her to follow up on that, Drew turned and walked out of the kitchen. Trying to remain calm, Simone went after him.
“Drew, wait a minute.”
But he kept going, right up the stairs, saying, “I’m done talking. I have to study.”
So much for that conversation.
Frustrated, needing to talk to someone, Simone finally gave in to the urge to call Gideon. She knew he’d left her a couple of messages both at home and on her cell, which she’d turned off, so at least he wanted to talk to her.
Slipping on a jacket, she took her cell phone onto the back porch. The night was mild, the air winter-fresh, and she couldn’t help the longing she felt to be enjoying it with Gideon standing behind her, his arms around her waist.
Pulse quickening at the fantasy, she placed a call to his cell.
“It’s you,” he answered. “I was wondering if you would return my calls.”
“I was tied up.”
“Literally?”
She thought to joke, then changed her mind and told him about “Santa Claus” attacking her that morning.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I’m calling you now.”
“I mean when it happened!”
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to hear from me.”
“Because you left last night?”
Simone sighed. “I was trying to stay in control, Gideon. When I woke up, I realized I couldn’t have that kind of complication in my life.”
“Is that all I am to you? A complication?”
She wasn’t about to tell him he was so much more, so she turned the conversation elsewhere. “I finally went to Cecchi and Burke this afternoon. I just got home.”
“And?”
“I got two things. That half a mil from Anthony Viglio? Cash.”
Gideon whistled. “Brave man, carrying that kind of loot around. I assume people in the office remembered him.”
“Apparently he only came once and the only one to see him was the receptionist. Her description—big and blond and blue-eyed.”
“Not Anthony Viglio.”
“Not by a long shot,” she agreed. “But Sam Albright fits the description. And Ulf Nachtmann.”
“Who?”
“Michael’s bodyguard.” Which worried her more than she wanted to admit.
“Albright had dealings with Cecchi, but I thought he was a satisfied customer. And wouldn’t your receptionist have seen him more than once?”
“She’s fairly new. Maybe not.”
“And everyone else would simply have accepted Albright’s presence without questioning his identity because they’d seen him before.”
The logic made her feel a bit better. If Ulf were involved, it followed that Michael was, too, because where would a bodyguard get five hundred thousand dollars?
Gideon suddenly asked, “Any idea of what kind of car Sam Albright drives?”
“Some kind of a sedan, I think.”
“Dark?”
“Black. Why?”
“Because someone driving a black sedan just tried to run me off the road,” Gideon said.
“My God, how awful! What makes you think it was Sam Albright?”
“Whoever it was followed me from your place.”
Stomach suddenly knotting—this was no coincidence—she asked, “What were you doing here?”
“I thought we needed to talk. I still do. Meet me out front in five minutes. I’m already on the way back to your place.”
Simone didn’t argue. His mind was made up. Besides, she wanted to see him for herself to make certain he was all right. No way was Sam Albright responsible. In her heart, she knew who was.
She banged at Drew’s bedroom door and, without waiting for his invitation, showed herself in.
“What did you do, Drew?” she demanded. “What exactly did you hear last night?”
“I told you—”
“Not everything. Tell me. Now!”
“Okay. He’s the guy who put Grandpa in prison,” Drew said sullenly. “What are you doing with this guy, Mom? What are you doing with the man who betrayed this family?”
Simone grabbed the doorjamb for support and found herself defending him. “Gideon believed Papa killed his father. He did what he thought was right.”
Isn’t that what he had told her from the first? Why had she discounted it? Why had she pushed him out of her life?
Drew scowled, the expression so like Michael’s it frightened her. “He lied!”
“He didn’t lie.”
“Now you’re changing your story and saying Grandpa lied?”
“No!”
“It’s got to be one or the other, Mom. One of them had to be lying. What other explanation is there?”
She’d thought the same thing, but she knew Gideon was convinced he’d been telling the truth.
“I don’t know. What did you do, Drew? Who were you talking to on the phone last night?” she demanded as if she hadn’t already figured it out.
“Uncle Mike!”
“Drew! We don’t talk about it much, but you know your uncle can be a dangerous man.” She’d have given anything not to be right about this. “A little while ago, Gideon almost had a car accident. Someone tried running him off the road.”
“Uncle Mike is loyal to this family.”
Without thinking, she snapped, “Gideon is your family, too! How can you think attacking him would be okay? I raised you to know right from wrong, Drew. Nothing justifies deliberately trying to hurt another person!”
“Gideon’s not related to us!”
Realizing what she’d said, Simone knew now was the time for the whole truth. She’d been wrong to think that she could keep it from him…keep Gideon from the son he hadn’t known existed.
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Gideon’s related to you, Drew! He’s your father, and your uncle knows that.”
Drew flew off the bed, hands clenched at his sides. “My father’s dead!”
“Yes, the man who raised you, the man who chose to be your father, who thought of you as a son and couldn’t have loved you more—he is dead. Gideon is your biological father. He didn’t even know about you until a few days ago. I was in love with him when his name was Joey Ruscetti, Drew. And I was pregnant with you when his father was murdered. If that hadn’t happened…but it did, and nothing was ever the same again.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“I wouldn’t lie to you about this.”
Before she could think of some way of calming him down, Drew rushed past
her out of the room.
“Drew, wait.”
He flew down the stairs and grabbed his jacket.
She followed, asking, “Where are you going?”
“To the only person I can trust.”
Chapter Fifteen
“I couldn’t stop him from running to Michael.”
Staring at Simone in the passenger seat—he’d picked her up in front of the house and had found a semi-deserted spot in nearby Lincoln Park to talk—Gideon was stunned.
“I can’t believe you told him. You’re the one who didn’t want him to know that I’m his father. You were convinced it would destroy him.”
“It may have, Gideon. You didn’t see him,” she said, a catch in her voice. “You didn’t hear him.”
“Take it easy. He’ll be all right. He seems like a sensible kid.”
“Usually.”
“He will be this time, too. He’s had a shock. He needs time to deal with what you told him.”
“There’s more.”
Gideon didn’t like the sound of that. “He didn’t threaten to do anything to himself, did he?”
“No! The reason I told him about you…he was responsible for your close call earlier.”
“You’re saying he was driving the black sedan?”
She shook her head. “He told Michael about you. Last night he overheard us, at least enough to know that you were the man who put Papa behind bars.”
Gideon cursed. He hadn’t even gotten Simone out of the murder mess and now Michael was complicating the picture. He thought about facing down the man himself, but then thought better of it. If Michael had sent someone after him, it undoubtedly was already too late. Maybe he needed to talk to Logan, see if they could figure out a plan. Being a detective for the CPD, Logan might be the better person to approach Michael.
In the meantime…
“We need to find that tape.” Gideon was certain that Simone had figured out what had been hidden in the desk. At least they now knew what to look for; they simply had to figure out who had possession of the tape. “Any ideas?”
“The murderer pretty much covered everyone who had access to the desk—Nikki, Galen, Josie, me.”
“What about Teresa Cecchi?”
“What about her?”
“What if she knows something she hasn’t told us?” Gideon suggested. “She was the last person to have her hands on the desk before it went to auction.”
“Surely if she knew about the tape, she would have said something. Especially since she was so upset at the wake last night.”
“You never mentioned that.”
“I suggested that whatever had been in that desk was what got Al and Nikki killed. The idea shook her and she said their deaths were her fault. I just figured she was feeling guilty about giving away the desk. But maybe there’s more to it.”
“Only one way to find out.” Knowing the wake had gone a second night, Gideon said, “She should be back from the funeral home by now.”
“The funeral is tomorrow morning. I don’t think she’ll be happy to see us any time soon.”
“From what I’ve seen, Teresa Cecchi is one tough widow. And if she has knowledge of the tape—or if she actually has the tape—we need to find out before someone else gets killed over the damned thing.”
Simone agreed.
A quarter of an hour later, they were in front of the Cecchi home. The widow herself answered the door.
“What do you two want?”
“We want to know about the tape, Teresa,” Simone said. “What’s on it?”
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the widow muttered as she tried to slam the door on them.
Quickly inserting a foot, Gideon prevented the door from being closed in their faces. “You can either talk to us, or you can talk to the authorities.”
He could hardly believe that’s all it had taken for Teresa Cecchi to cave. She must have been eaten up by guilt to give up so easily. Once inside, he noticed the woman’s puffy eyes and smeared makeup and felt a pang of guilt. But what was done was done. Now they were getting somewhere, and keeping someone else from dying was more important than Teresa’s feelings.
Simone asked, “What’s on the tape, Teresa?”
“Information that could get us all killed.”
“You knew this and didn’t say anything?” Gideon asked.
“I thought if I pretended ignorance, it would protect me.”
“From what?” Simone asked. “From whom?”
Teresa shook her head. “You won’t like it.”
“I don’t have to like it if it helps nail Al’s real killer.”
Teresa nodded. “You’ll have to hear for yourself.”
The widow led them into the den and crossed the room to a painting. She pulled it from the wall, then opened the safe the artwork had hidden. She deftly punched in a code and the safe popped open. From the safe’s depths, Teresa pulled an innocent-looking audio tape.
Gideon felt adrenaline surge through him. Teresa had warned Simone that she wasn’t going to like what she would hear. Did that mean David Burke had been involved in something illegal?
But when Teresa inserted the tape into her sound system and hit Play, the voice on the tape wasn’t David’s. Even after all these years, Gideon recognized it immediately.
“I’ll need you to keep him busy, so he doesn’t suspect.”
“Michael!” Simone said with a gasp.
Teresa stopped the tape. “I said you wouldn’t like it.”
“Play it!”
Teresa nodded and did as Simone demanded.
“As long as I don’t have to get my hands dirty.”
“You think they’re clean, Al? You’re the one who told me he was going to squeeze me out, get himself a new second-in-command.”
“He’s talking about Papa.” Simone frowned. “Papa always demanded more, no matter how much Michael did for him. From the time Michael was a kid, Papa demanded he be a man.”
“He doesn’t trust you, Michael. Why should I?”
Michael laughed. “Maybe you should have taped this conversation for insurance.”
“Th-that’s not what I meant. I was talking about your funding my law firm. You are going to make good on that, right? I’ll do like you say about handling any cases you want.”
“Al, you think I’m gonna forget the person who helped make this possible?”
The last words slowed and then there was silence.
“Wait, there has to be more!” Simone cried. “What did he do?”
What had Michael done? Gideon wondered. Cecchi had taken care of the elder DeNali so Michael could what?
The dream vision came to him…
Pop and a man in an overcoat and brimmed hat, dark-framed glasses catching the light. A blue flash froze him to his seat as his father fell into the snow.
Still holding the gun, DeNali lit a cigarette with the other hand and got into his car and pulled away.
The license plate—RDN 1.
His father’s eyes opened and slowly focused. “DeNali…”
And then it hit him after all these years—the reason the dream wouldn’t let him alone.
He flashed forward to the club the night of Cecchi’s murder. He’d danced around Michael, kept his distance. He’d also kept an eye on the bastard, especially when Simone had stopped to talk to him. He remembered Michael had a drink in his right hand and with his left…
He bent a single match and touched the head to the flint, then flicked with his thumb so the match flamed to life.
Just like in the dream.
Pop had said DeNali, but hadn’t said Richard.
“I’m sorry, that’s all there was,” Teresa Cecchi was saying when Gideon tuned back into the room.
Simone appeared devastated. No doubt she was drawing the same conclusions as he was. Gideon wrapped an arm around her shoulders to support her, and she slipped an arm around his waist. His chest squeezed tight at her returned gestu
re of solidarity.
“Are you sure there’s no more later on the tape?” she asked as the widow withdrew it from the player.
“Positive. If you want to know the rest,” Teresa said, “ask your brother.”
“I’ll do that.”
As Simone pulled away from him, Gideon held out his hand. “The tape.”
Teresa hesitated a moment, then handed it to him.
Gideon realized that Simone had left the room. He heard the whisper of footsteps rush down the hall and figured she needed a minute alone.
Slipping the tape into his pocket, he assured the widow, “I’ll see that this gets into the right hands before someone else gets hurt.”
Then he went after Simone. He expected to find her on the front porch, but she was already on the street at the car. The lights flashed and he realized she had his keys—she must have filched them from his pocket when she put her arm around his waist!
“Simone, what are you doing?” he demanded as she opened the driver’s door. He was taking the steps two at a time. “Wait for me!”
But before he could get to her, she’d started the engine and was pulling away. Cursing, Gideon stood in the middle of the street knowing exactly where she was going. Following on foot—Michael lived barely a mile from here—he pulled out his cell and called Logan.
“I have what the murderer has been looking for,” he said. “A tape. Michael DeNali was planning something against his father and Al Cecchi was involved.”
“Planning what?”
“That’s the question DeNali needs to answer.” Though Gideon was certain he already knew.
As did Simone.
“You sound out of breath,” Logan noted.
“I’m on the move on foot.” Actually, he was jogging and finding speaking more difficult by the moment. “Simone took my car keys and she’s on her way over to her brother’s place right now. I could use some backup. Get over to the DeNali mansion on Eighteenth and Prairie.”
“Will do.”
Gideon slipped the cell back into his pocket and put on some speed.
THE STREET where Simone had spent her childhood was barely recognizable. A couple of decades ago, only a few houses that had belonged to the wealthy at the end of the nineteenth century were still being used as homes or businesses; the rest had stood empty. Most of the old buildings were gone now, replaced by a new housing development of three-story single-family homes, a condo complex and another construction site to the east.
Red Carpet Christmas Page 17
