“What are you doing here?” Debbie said.
“I came to see if you wanted to do something tonight.”
“I’d love to, but I’m tired. Thanks for asking, though.”
“How about dinner?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “Really, I’m tired. Another time, okay?” She said the ‘okay’ in her sweet sexy voice, the kind she used only when she wanted something.
“Sure. Fine.” Chad maintained his smile until he got back into the elevator. He punched the button for seventeen, then squeezed his fists as the elevator rose.
Bitch!
CHAPTER 15
All the President’s Men
Wilmington, Delaware
I fed Dante while Rosa cleaned the table.
“I’ll do the dishes, Mom.”
Angela stretched and yawned. “What did I do to deserve this treatment? You’re doing the dishes and your father has Dante.”
“Guess you’re free for the night,” I said.
Angie grabbed a book and went to sit on the stoop. She loved reading there, especially with the warm spell we’d been having. I waited until the door closed then joined Rosa in the kitchen. “Anything wrong?”
“No. Why?”
“You haven’t been yourself the past few days.”
“Nothing’s wrong.” She continued washing dishes, never turned to look at me. That was his first sign that something was wrong.
“All right, just checking. If you need to talk…”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Anybody ask you to the dance yet?”
A huge sigh followed. “Not yet. And I doubt if anyone will. Getting late for that.”
“Not even Mike Riley?”
“Not even him.” She mumbled something.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“I didn’t hear you.”
“I said it was nothing. Okay?” She finished drying the last few dishes and hung the towel on the rack. “I’m going out.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. Probably to get Sally and go to Jenn’s house.”
I didn’t like her evasive answers, but I let it go. Something was bothering her, and she obviously didn’t want to talk about it with me. “Okay, don’t be late. And be careful.”
“Yeah. I know.”
***
Rosa and Sally picked up Jenn and the three of them headed up to St. Anthony’s. They hung around the church, met some boys, drank a few beers, talked some more. The guys soon left and before long it was dark.
“We better be getting home,” Sally said. “I don’t like being here at night.”
“Nobody’s going to bother us,” Jenn said.
“We should go visit Abby’s mom,” Rosa said. “Come on, it won’t take long. She’s at St. Francis.”
They walked the few blocks to St. Francis Hospital, where they stayed a while visiting Mrs. Perlante, then left.
As soon as they got outside, Jenn lit a smoke. “Couldn’t wait to get out of there. I hate visiting sick people.”
Sally hit Jenn on the arm. “That’s a disgusting thing to say.”
“You want me to lie? Are you telling me you like it?”
“No, but it’s the right thing to do.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I hate visiting sick people.”
They walked about two blocks down DuPont Street. Rosa reached for Jenn’s cigarette. “Give me a hit.”
“You don’t smoke.”
“Sometimes I do. I feel like it tonight.”
“What else you girls feel like?” A voice from the side startled them. Rosa jumped. Jenn and Sally screamed.
Two black guys stepped in front of them, one behind. The one who’d spoken was rough-looking, scary. He sported a big thick necklace and a gold tooth, and the grip of a gun showed in his waistband. “No need to get all worked up. We ain’t chasin’ no white meat. Just want your purses.”
“Bullshit,” Rosa said. “Earn your own money.”
The leader pulled out a switchblade, brought it close to Rosa. “Like I said, no need to get worked up. But I do need those purses. Give ’em up and nobody gets hurt.”
Sally started crying. She handed him her purse. “I don’t have one,” Jenn said, squeezing Sally’s hand. Rosa held her purse tightly.
The leader nodded to the guy next to him. He snatched Rosa’s purse and rifled through it.
“Shit, DuPree. She’s got a coin,” he said, pulling it out.
DuPree took it from him and looked at the coin, the face of President Monroe staring at him as if he’d done something wrong. The coin was a safe-passage token given out by his boss—and only to a select few. “Where’d you get this?”
Rosa put a little defiance in her tone. “My father gave it to me.”
“Who’s your father, bitch? Don’t play games with me.”
“His name’s Nicky Fusco and if—”
“Shit!” the other guy said. “Nicky the Rat?”
“That’s him,” DuPree said. He flashed a big smile, then returned the coin and everything else to Rosa and her friends. “Tell your father that DuPree says we’re even now.”
“What do you mean?” Rosa asked. She straightened herself, and tried to hide the fact that she was trembling.
“You just tell him that DuPree said we’re even.” He turned to the guys with him. “You and Ten Spot make sure they get home safe.”
As DuPree walked away he hollered back. “Make sure you tell Nicky what I said.”
DuPree’s men walked Rosa and her friends to Front Street. Jenn and Sally thanked them. When they were out of earshot, the girls turned to Rosa.
“I can’t believe what just happened,” Sally said. “I thought we were dead.”
“I thought we were raped,” Jenn said. “But we were saved by Nicky Fusco.”
Sally lit a smoke, fumbling with her lighter. She looked at Rosa. “And you still don’t believe what we said about why nobody asked you to the dance?”
“Maybe you believe us now?” Jenn said.
“There’s a reason,” Rosa said. “But it’s not what you think.”
“Sure there is. Come on. Get real. That was DuPree, one of Monroe’s top dogs. He was scared shitless when he heard who you were.”
Jenn grabbed Sally’s smoke to light hers. “I’m gonna have a T-shirt printed that says ‘I know Nicky Fusco.’”
“You mean Nicky the Rat,” Sally said, and laughed.
Rosa didn’t. “It’s not funny, goddamnit.” She ran down the block, crying.
Jenn and Sally caught up to her on the next block. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean anything. I mean, to us, it’s cool. I wish my dad—”
“No, you don’t. Trust me. You don’t.”
***
At breakfast the next morning, Rosa looked upset. I waited until we both had coffee. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“‘Nothing’ won’t cut it this morning. I let that go last night.”
“You want to know what’s bothering me? Okay. I want to know what the hell is going on. Boys are afraid to ask me out. Parents won’t let their kids hang out with me. Who are you?”
“You’ll find people like that all the time. It’s—”
“I’m not buying any cheap excuses this time, Dad. Tell me.”
Angie hollered from the kitchen. “Keep the argument civil.”
“Not this time,” Rosa said. “I want the truth and I want it from Dad.”
Angie stepped into the room. “Rosa!”
Rosa turned to her. “What? You and Dad preach all the time about me being honest with you. Shouldn’t it work both ways?”
I grabbed Angie by the arm before she lost control. “She’s right. We can’t ask for anything different.”
Rosa stood, right leg cocked to the side, hands on her hips. “So?” Her voice carried a lot of attitude.
I thought quickly, and decided to spit i
t out. “When I was young, I spent time in prison.”
This was more difficult than I thought. I hated telling her, even though it felt good to get the truth out. I was afraid of what she’d think of me. “Those were ten years I could have spent with you and your mother.”
Rosa scoffed. “I already knew that. Why were you in there?”
“I killed a boy in a gang fight.”
“It was an accident,” Angie said quickly.
I held Angie back, shaking my head. “What I did was wrong, Rosa. I deserved the time.”
“What else?” Rosa demanded.
“What do you mean?”
“I told you about the rumors at school. I know how kids can be. I figured a lot of it was exaggeration, so I never asked. But last night…”
Something in her tone alerted me. This was more than kids talking at school. “What happened last night?”
Rosa had a glare in her eyes. She slammed something onto the table. The Monroe coin. “You want to tell me what this is about?”
The look in her eyes and the tone of her voice pissed me off. I held my temper, though. “Maybe I will. If you sit down and calmly explain what you’re talking about.”
She yanked the chair out and plopped in it. “I got mugged last night.”
My heart raced. “What?” Before I could say anything else Angie rushed to her side.
“Mugged? What happened? Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right.” Her voice had sarcasm added to the attitude now. “I’m Nicky ‘the Rat’ Fusco’s daughter. Who’s going to hurt me?”
Angie’s lips twisted into a frown. “Knock off the attitude.”
I gave Rosa a minute. “How about you tell us what happened.”
“I’ll tell you what happened. Me, Jenn and Sally were walking home—”
“Sally, Jenn and I,” Angie said.
“It’s not time to correct grammar, Mom.” Rosa huffed. “We were walking home and three black guys stopped us. One of them had a knife. I saw a gun in another guy’s waistband. They took our purses, which had our lives in them: cell phones, money, credit cards. Then one of them pulls this coin out of my purse and shows it to the leader guy—Dupree. Then he asks who my father is. I say Nicky Fusco.” Rosa wiped a tear away. “Then the guy freaked out. All of them did. One of them says, ‘Nicky the Rat’ and Dupree says, ‘That’s him.’”
I sat there but said nothing.
She stared at me, demanding an answer. “So you want to tell me why the leader of one of Monroe’s gangs, the toughest in town, is afraid of you?”
Angie sat at the table next to Rosa. “I want to know too. You haven’t done anything, Nicky, have you?”
I put on a smile. “I did time with Monroe. Helped him out in prison. I guess he feels he owes me. That’s why he gave me that coin.”
“Bullshit, Dad.”
Angie slapped at her but missed. “Don’t talk to your father like that.”
Rosa glanced to Angie then back to me. “Bull. When DuPree heard your name, he freaked out. It was like in the movies. And the other one said ‘The Rat?’”
“They were just showing respect.”
“Respect? Gangs from the toughest part of town, the President’s District? That’s bull. Those guys were scared shitless.”
“Rosa!”
“Cut the crap, Mom. I need to know.”
“Your father’s a different man now. That’s all in the past.”
“It might be in the past for him, but it’s not for me. I have to live with his reputation every day. I can’t get a date. Friends can’t come to my house. Jesus Christ, I can’t even get mugged.”
Angie reached to slap her again, but I held up my hand to block her. “She has a right to know.”
“We’ll talk in here,” I said, and headed to the living room. I sat on the sofa and motioned for Rosa to sit next to me. “If I tell you it may make things worse. It will burden you with secrets that must be kept.”
“What do you mean?” Rosa asked.
“I mean that what I tell you cannot be repeated to anyone. Ever.”
She nodded. “I know.”
“No, you don’t know. There will be times when you want to tell someone. When you’re angry with someone and want to frighten them with what I’m about to tell you. Or impress them. Or simply share your burden with someone you love.” I waited until I knew I had her full attention. “But you won’t be able to. And this not only means now, but it means the future. With a husband. Or with kids. Ever.”
The tension in her face went from attitude to worry. She was scared. Good. “It’s not an easy thing to keep secrets, especially terrible ones. And mine are terrible ones.”
“What did you do?”
“Before I tell you, I want you to think hard about it. And listen to what I have to say. I’ve already told you about the secrets. The other thing is that what I tell you may change the way you feel about me. You’ll say it won’t. But it might. So take the night. Think it over. If you still want to know in the morning, I’ll tell you everything.”
CHAPTER 16
A Call to Uncle Mario
Wilmington, Delaware
Rosa struggled to get through the day. She had a fight with Jenn and Sally; they wouldn’t quit talking about the mugging. Finally Rosa made them promise they wouldn’t say anything about it to anyone. She didn’t know how long they’d keep that promise, but it should be good for a while.
By the time she got home she still hadn’t figured out what to do about her dad and his secrets. He’d scared her, the way he talked about keeping them secret forever. It was one thing for teenage girls to say that to each other, but something in his eyes when he said it…She just didn’t know. Nobody mentioned it at dinner, or afterward. It was like it never happened. Maybe they were hoping it would go away. Or pretending that it never happened in the first place.
The problem was, it had.
That night, Rosa went to bed worried. And curious. She couldn’t sleep. Around midnight she called Uncle Mario. He’ll know what to do.
After three rings she almost hung up. After five she reached for the end button.
“Hello.”
“Uncle Mario?” she whispered. It seemed like the thing to do that time of night. Besides, she didn’t want her parents hearing. “Uncle Mario, it’s Rosa.”
“Is something wrong?” His voice had a nervous edge to it.
“No. It’s just…”
“Is Nicky okay?”
“Dad’s fine. I just need someone to talk to. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.”
“How are you feeling, Uncle Mario?”
Frankie laughed. “I’m great. But sometimes it’s easier if you just say what’s on your mind.”
“You sound like my father.”
“We did grow up together. So tell me what’s wrong.”
“I don’t know, it’s just…”
“Just what?”
“People at school, they…say things about Dad.”
“Like what?”
Rosa twisted her hair, worried about what to say. “I don’t know how much you know about dad. I mean, you’re a cop, and…”
Frankie laughed. “I know everything there is to know about your father. Just tell me what’s troubling you.”
“They call him a killer. Some kids even said he was a hit man.” Rosa felt good to have it out. It made the rest come easier. “Some gangs are even afraid of him. And—”
“Slow down, Rosa. Take it easy.”
“Sorry.”
“Tell me what you mean by gangs being afraid of him.”
Rosa repeated the story from last night, including the part about DuPree saying to tell Nicky that they were even. She told him how they were afraid of Nicky and even walked them halfway home.
“That all can be explained. I know the guy you’re talking about. Not DuPree, but his boss, Monroe. He did time with your dad.”
“Dad told me th
at.”
“What he probably didn’t tell you was that Monroe helped me too. Remember last year when your dad helped me out on the jam when my sister’s husband got killed?”
“I remember.”
“Monroe helped me. Actually, he helped your dad get information for me.”
“Wait, you worked with a gangbanger?”
“I didn’t work with him, but sometimes things aren’t as neat and pretty as people think, especially under the surface.”
Rosa tried digesting what Frankie was telling her. “Monroe was only part of the problem. What can you tell me about Dad before that? When he was in New York?”
“I won’t tell you anything about your father. I don’t think you want to know. What I will tell you is this: Nicky Fusco saved my life three times. And he saved my ass countless times. We took an oath as eight-year-olds and to this day he has never broken it.” Frankie took a deep breath. It sounded as if he lit a cigarette. “Your father would cut off his hand before breaking his word. That’s the kind of man Nicky Fusco is.”
“But do you know what he’s done?”
“I told you I know everything. What you have to remember is that sometimes things that seem horrible have a reason.”
“Some people say he killed a bunch of people in New York. That he was a hit man.”
“I was assigned the investigation to find out who was killing all of those people. Some thought it was Nicky and that he was a hit man. I can tell you this: I spent almost a year investigating those crimes, looking at everyone, and in the end, I cleared your father.”
“So he didn’t do it? He’s not a killer?”
“I didn’t get to be Detective First Class by putting the wrong people in jail. And if you want to know about the gang fight that sent him to prison, that was my fault.”
“How?”
“Your dad was supposed to go out with your mom that night. He only came to the fight to save us because he heard they had guns. A guy from the other gang shot and killed a friend of ours and then tried to kill me. That’s when Nicky shot him. And that’s why they sent him to prison.”
“Is that the truth, Uncle Mario? Really?”
Murder Takes Patience Page 8
