Nicola had been on the phone with his parents for nearly an hour. He listened to them as they argued with each other on the phone and then tried to talk to him. Wanting to run his head into the wall, he sat down on the top stair of the staircase and looked down at the first floor.
“Dad, what would I do at the company?” he asked, running a hand through his wild hair. It felt oily from not showering. Rubbing his fingers together, he made a note to shower and while he was at it…shave.
“You have an MBA for goodness sake,” Mr. Agosto said, hitting his newspaper on his large granite desk. “There are a hundred things you could do here.” He looked out the windows of his corner office at the Miami bay.
Nicola tried to reason with the man. “I have a degree that I’ve never used. I’m a cop.”
“Marketing is common sense,” Mr. Agosto argued back.
“Ivy is the one with the brains for that kind of thing anyway. I don’t even know how to Tweet or twit or whatever.” He sighed into the phone as he heard small footsteps run past him at Mach speed. “Stop running!” he yelled out without even turning around.
“Your father’s right. There is nothing there in Memphis for you and those people….have you watched the news? They are making you out to be a monster,” his mother Liz said in a high octave.
Nicola shook his head. His mother was an emotional worrywart, and the last thing he wanted was to get her involved in the conversations about what he planned to do post-PD.
“Well, have you spoken with the press at all?” His father asked.
“No,” Nicola answered shortly.
“Why not? This is getting ridiculous,” Mr. Agosto growled.
“I am waiting for the final findings from the Securities Squad,” Nicola explained.
“But you just said that unofficially you’re out,” Mr. Agosto’s voice growled. “That city never deserved you anyway, son. You have given everything. And for what? You could have been making millions just like your brother, Santo. He’s made quite a good life for him and Arin here.”
The last thing that Nicola wanted to talk about was his brother’s success, not that he was jealous of it, but considering his own situation, it wasn’t exactly helping his morale.
“How are the kids?” Liz asked. Worry laced her small voice. “I haven’t spoken to them since last week. Normally, Ivy calls me, but with everything that is going on and the fact the poor thing is pregnant…” She cringed at the thought. The news of a new Agosto was supposed to come with gleeful and joyful celebration, not hampered by a murder investigation.
“Really, son, you should think of your wife,” Mr. Agosto said, intending a guilt trip on Nicola. “Maybe living in Miami would be better for her, especially in her state.”
“Ivy is fine. She just went back to work today after being off for over a week. She was about to go crazy in this house. You don’t know how she is. Once she sets her mind to a thing, it’s done. It would be easier to try to re-write the constitution. Plus, she loves her job. She’s been there for years and she’s moved up. And the boys are fine. Hold on and I’ll get them for you and you talk to them until you’re blue in the face,” Nicola said, standing up. He could hear his sons rolling around in the playroom fighting and scuffling down the hallway. He had a mind to tear into their asses.
Ignoring his son’s statements, he continued. “We need someone to run our operations at the company. We’ve expanded and…”
Nicola cut his father off. “Dad, once I know something, I’ll give you a call about job opportunities, but right now, I need to focus on staying here. Ivy’s job means a lot to her, and I doubt that she’d be interested in just walking away from it because of me.”
“Well, we need a new marketing exec too,” he said, willing to compromise in any way possible to get his family closer to him in his old age.
The doorbell rang, saving Nicola from a continued conversation.
“Hey, there is someone at the door. I’ll have the kids call you back, okay?” Nicola said, walking slowly down the stairs.
“Okay, we love you son,” Mr. Agosto said sincerely. “If there is anything that you need…”
“I’ll call. Promise. Love you guys too,” Nicola said, hanging up the phone.
The doorbell rang once more before Nicola got to the door.
“Coming!” he said, looking through the peephole. It was a woman. Probably a desperate reporter.
He eyed his gun, sitting on the top rack of the hat shelf, tucked under a scarf, before he opened the door, just in case. To his surprise, it was Mrs. Naples, the mother of the twin boys who had been murdered. She looked even more worn down than the day that he had broken the news to her about her boys. In a pink cotton t-shirt and a pair of jeans with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, she appeared to have aged dramatically within a few weeks. With cracked dry lips and no make-up on, she tried to smile when she saw his face.
“Lt. Agosto,” she said, eyes red and puffy like she had been crying for days.
“Mrs. Naples,” Nicola said, opening the door wider. “Please, come in.” Quickly, he stuck his head out of the door and looked around, praying that no media was lurking around.
He closed the door and tried to straighten his clothes. He didn’t look much better than her in his black Nike jersey shorts and his sleeveless, orange Nike t-shirt.
“Please come and have a seat,” he said, walking her to the living room.
She looked around his house in surprise. Even in the mist of her trauma, her face was awash with the same curiosity that most people had when they visited his home for the first time.
“You have a very lovely home,” she said, following him into the perfectly designed room.
He offered her a seat on the sofa and moved a toy police car on the cushion. “Thanks,” he said, hearing his kids running upstairs. “Can I offer you something to drink?” It was odd, but the sound of his boys laughing and playing made him feel guilty.
“No, I’m fine,” she said, trying to smile again. “Your house looks like it fell out of Southern Living.”
He grinned. He had heard it a hundred times before but he could take absolutely no credit for it. “My wife has what some people call an eye for that type of thing.” Unsure if he should sit or stand, he walked over to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle. “So, what brings you to my home, and how did you find it?”
“I could have easily found it on the County Assessor’s site, but it’s available online as well on a bunch of forums. There are tons of people rallying to…” she didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t want to tell him that people were suggesting going to his house in protest.
Nicola raised a brow. “Well that’s disturbing.”
She reached into her purse to pull out something and Nicola quickly stopped her. “I don’t mean any harm, but sudden movements make me uneasy,” he said, face pensive.
“It’s just a photo of my boys,” she said, slowly pulling out two pictures of her twins. “I know what they are accusing you of, but I don’t believe it.”
Nicola didn’t know what to say. He walked over and took the pictures. Running his hand over their faces, he put down his head. “I never meant to let you down, Mrs. Naples.” He sat down beside her and scratched his head. “The other detective you met, Johnson, is working hard to find the persons responsible for this.”
“But you made me a promise,” she said, eyes watering again. “And I could see in your eyes that you really cared.”
“Daddy!” Adamo exclaimed, barreling down the stairs. “Can I have some ice cream?”
“Not right now, Adamo,” Nicola said, standing up. “Go back upstairs.”
His words were too late. His son hit the last step of the stairway and headed straight for him.
Mrs. Naples eyes lit up as Madison followed. Twins. Just like hers. She swallowed hard and nodded at the boys. “Hello,” she said, voice cracking.
“Hello,” Madison answered first. “Who is she, daddy?”
he said, turning towards Nicola.
“Someone daddy worked with,” Nicola answered, putting his hand on their heads. “Why don’t you boys go upstairs and after I’m done, I’ll be up.”
“But…” Madison prepared to protest. His emerald green eyes were bright as he begged. “We want a snack.”
“Later,” Nicola said sternly.
Sulking they both headed back up the stairs as quickly as they had come.
Nicola turned around and tried to smile. “My boys…well half my boys. I’ve got two more upstairs and one on the way.” He didn’t know why, but he felt comfortable telling her that.
“And they are bi-racial?” she asked.
“Yes,” Nicola answered. He went back to her and sat down. “I really want to help you. I do.”
“You made a promise. And in my heart, I believe that you are the only one who can do this. I had a dream about you yesterday, Lt. Agosto. You were in front of a plume of smoke and there were children all around you. I think it was a sign that you would lead them out of this hell.” Tears ran down her cheeks.
Nicola’s heart broke for her. “They are not going to give me my job back.”
“Even if we beg for it. I’ve gotten with some of the other parents and…”
Nicola cut her off. “It won’t matter. With all the bad press, they have to take another course of action.” He heaved a frustrated sigh. “This is my fault, I know, but trust me. It was something that I had to do.”
“I believe you,” she said with sincere understanding in her voice. “But you have to find a way to solve this case.”
With the photos still in his hand, Nicola rested back on the couch. His long, muscular body was tense with frustration. Running a hand over his stubbly beard, he tried to figure out a way to tell her that there was nothing that he could do.
He was five minutes from not being a cop any longer.
“Mrs. Naples…” he said, closing his eyes. He didn’t want to break her heart or take hope from her but he had his own family to think about. Right now, he needed to be thinking about job options and how to take care of his family, not trying to take care of someone else’s misfortune.
The jingle of keys at the front door interrupted him in the middle of yet another statement. He rolled his eyes, feeling as though his cell phone and his front door had become his biggest enemies. He knew that it had to be Ivy, but looking at his watch, he knew that it was way too early for her to be home.
Having been married for years, he realized that there was a woman in his house, regardless of the reasoning behind it. He tensed up tighter as he heard her heels click against the hard wood floor. Dropping her bags on the bench in the foyer, she called out for her husband.
“Nicky,” she said, voice echoing through the large airy rooms. In just one word, it was obvious that Ivy wasn’t happy.
“In here, babe,” Nicola said, looking over at Mrs. Naples, who heard Ivy’s voice and also tensed a bit.
The woman of the house had arrived.
Ivy turned the corner in a navy blue tailored business suit and yellow Brooks Brothers oxford. With pearls around her neck and on her ears and her matching navy blue pumps, she looked every bit of the part of executive. She eyed her husband first, sitting on the couch in his lounge wear and then the white woman sitting beside him.
“Am I interrupting something?” Ivy asked, looking to her husband for an explanation as she took off her suit jacket. She laid it across her arm and walked over to the arm chair by the sofa where Mrs. Naples was and took a seat.
“This is Mrs. Naples,” Nicola said, watching his wife closely. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Naples, I don’t know your first name, but this is my wife Ivy Agosto.”
Mrs. Naples pushed to the end of the sofa and offered her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
Ivy shook her hand with a frown on her face. “It’s nice to meet you too.”
“You’re home early,” Nicola said, finally standing up.
“Yes, I know.” Ivy cut her eyes at her husband. “I was let go today. Something about too much negative publicity.”
Nicola bucked his eyes. “What?” He growled. “You’ve been at that firm for nearly a decade.”
“We’ll talk about it after Mrs. Naples has left,” Ivy said, turning her attention back to the woman. “So, what brings you to my home in the middle of the day?”
Mrs. Naples took the pictures that Nicola had laid on the coffee table and passed them to Ivy. “My boys,” she said with finality. “I was hoping that Lt. Agosto wouldn’t give up on trying to find their killers.”
Suddenly extremely more sympathetic, Ivy took the pictures slowly. She had never met one of her husband’s cases. He wouldn’t allow it. And now she knew why. Staring at the photos of the twin boys who were no doubt her children’s ages brought tears to her eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Ivy said, looking the woman square in the eyes.
“I saw your children,” Mrs. Naples said. “If anyone understands what this has done to me, you all do. In some ways because of what is happening to your own family, we are connected.” She tried to smile. “Lt. Agosto made me a promise to find whoever was responsible for taking my reason for living from me.” Shaking her head, she pulled her purse to her body. “I just wanted to know if he planned to keep that promise.”
Standing quietly and watching, Nicola saw Ivy’s range of emotion as she tried to take in what she had truly just walked into. His wife met his gaze with a determined look, but for once, he was not sure what she would say.
“He can’t give you an answer on that, Mrs. Naples,” Ivy said finally, handing the pictures back to her. “You’re asking him to be your personal vigilante and you’re asking him to forget the needs of his own family.” Ivy stood up as if to tell the woman that her visit was coming to an abrupt end.
Mrs. Naples stood too.
Nicola stepped out of the way, amazed at how graceful his wife could be. He watched his wife put a loving hand around the woman to comfort her, even as she walked her to the front door.
Ivy leaned into her and in a low voice said, “and if he were to do that, you wouldn’t want to know about it. Now would you?”
Mrs. Naples looked in Ivy’s eyes with a grateful smile. Nodding, she mouthed thank you. “No,” she answered aloud. “I wouldn’t want to place you in that position. Thank you both for your time.” Looking back at Nicola one last time, he heard the two of them mumbling words before the door closed and Ivy came back around the corner alone.
“Well, this Baby Boys case has truly come home to roost, hasn’t it?” she said, walking up to him.
Nicola looked down at her and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“Finish this, Nicola,” Ivy said, cutting him off. Her eyes blazed with anger and disgust. “We’ve lost nearly everything. Our jobs. Our friends. Our life. If what you say is true about being set up, then this was all orchestrated by someone. And for all we know, they aren’t done with us. So, finish this before they do. Finish this for our family, for those children and for yourself so that we can move on with our lives. I don’t want my baby coming into this mess, and I don’t want my other babies suffering anymore.”
Nicola nodded. “Thank you,” he whispered. To finally have his wife’s blessing, took a weight off his shoulders that he could not explain. “I will. I promise you. I’ll finish it.”
19
Johnson slammed the door of his dusty, unmarked squad car and headed quickly up the stone walkway of Carmen’s house, ready to confront her for what he considered high treason in a relationship. Ten minutes before his illegal, blue-light dash across town to her house, he had gotten a text from her on his private cell saying that they should spend some time apart at least until the case was over.
Complete and utter bullshit.
He knew that it all stemmed from the night before, when while drunk and guard finally down, she had told him that she loved him. And
in turn, he had told her the same. At last, he felt like they had turned a corner. He went to bed with her curled into him and his mind finally at ease. However, the next morning, he had awoken to an empty bed. She had ditched him at his place and headed off to work.
That would have been fine if only the text five hours later had not been so damn cold. Intending to get to the bottom of things, he beat on her front door with his fist and rang the doorbell like he was serving a felony warrant.
Frustrated, she snatched the wooden door open and stared out at him with a scowl. “Johnson, what are you doing here?” she asked.
Her question seemed ridiculous to him at the moment. In fact, it only infuriated him more. “I need to talk to you,” he said, trying to push his way in. “I’m tired of this cat and mouse game.”
She planted her hand on his wide chest. “This isn’t a game,” she said, refusing to let him in. “I’ve had time to think about it, and I just don’t think we should do this right now.”
Johnson stepped back and got composure of himself. Narrowing his eyes on her, he asked, “Is there someone else in there?” His concrete chest swelled. Radiating tension, he looked around to see if there was another car parked closely around.
“No, there is no one here,” she said, shaking her head. “God, you just don’t get it, do you?”
“What is there to get?” his deep voice echoed in the quietness of the tree-lined street. He lowered his voice and snatched off his shades. “Did you mean what you said last night?” He swallowed hard and the motion caused a jolt of his Adam’s apple in his thick neck.
Carmen looked away, rolling her eyes. She had to tell him the truth. He deserved that much, but somehow exposing even the truth could be a way for him to develop a better lie. “Johnson, you’re just going to hurt me, if I let you get too close. And I can’t afford to do that again.”
He repeated himself again. “Did you mean what you said last night? That’s all I want to know.”
Carmen folded her arms and stood her ground but said nothing.
After an awkward moment of standing there in chaotic silence, Johnson shook his head and threw up his hands. “Alright.” Stepping up to her, he bent and whispered, “I meant it. I meant every fucking word. And you know what, until now, no I haven’t been with a woman that I actually gave a damn about. But with you and your daughter, I could be that guy…the one that you need so badly. I could be anything that you want me to be because I know that you’re what I want. But it’s you getting in the way. You’re getting in the way of what we could have because you’re afraid. And I can handle a woman who comes a little damaged, someone who’s a little angry, but I can’t deal with a coward.” Stepping back, he spit out his gum and turned on his heels for his car.
The World in Reverse Page 20
