“I called 911, that must be them.” Judy hugged Mary, whose breath started to return to normal. Her throat hurt, her head was killing her. She held her belly, thanking God she felt the baby moving. The sirens sounded closer, and she hoped they had an ambulance. Judy had a cut on her face, and her right cheek had begun to swell, her eye gradually closing. They should get checked out at a hospital.
“How are you?” Mary asked, hoarsely. “You had a concussion.”
“I’m fine. We made it, girl.” Judy hugged her tighter.
“Yes, we did.” Mary felt a rush of gratitude that they had survived, as well as sympathy for Judy. “I’m sorry about John.”
“Thanks. But we’ll put Roger away. That helps.”
Machiavelli glanced over, holding the gun on Roger. “So ladies, lemme guess, Roger’s the bad guy?”
“Yes,” Mary answered.
“Told you it wasn’t me.” Machiavelli snorted.
“Sorry, and thanks.” Mary managed a smile. “Meanwhile, since when do you have a gun?”
“Don’t worry, I got a carry permit, Pollyanna.”
“You were almost right about the video.”
“Almost?” Machiavelli lifted an eyebrow. The sirens sounded less than a block away. “Lucky I came by when I did. My mother was worried about you. She made you spinach lasagna. Now it probably broke in a million pieces, and she loved that dish. She wanted it back.”
“Uh-oh. Who’s going to tell her?”
“Baby Boy, of course,” Machiavelli answered, with a sly smile.
CHAPTER FIFTY
The next few hours were a blur of activity, starting with the previously unlikely trio of Mary, Judy, and Machiavelli standing together as a cadre of police officers swarmed Roger. They hoisted him to his feet and handcuffed him, still bleeding from his facial cuts, then hauled him out of the house into a waiting police cruiser. He didn’t look back, but it was a moment that Mary and Judy would never forget. Seeing him get his comeuppance gave them both comfort, though Mary noticed that he’d left bloodstains on her living room carpet. She made a mental note to deduct it from the legal fees they’d never pay him. And to remember that at least once in her life, she had been totally badass.
Then she and Judy were whisked into ambulances, taken to the hospital, and wheeled into the emergency department. Judy was sent for testing, which came out fine, and Mary was examined, put on a fetal monitor, and cried tears of joy when she was told that the baby was fine. Detectives Krakoff and Marks appeared, and Mary and Judy gave them preliminary statements, enabling them to charge Roger with John’s murder, attempted murder, and other offenses. Mary’s home was officially a crime scene, so she was secretly happy she had cleaned up.
Bennie, Anne, and Lou arrived, and Mary and Judy had filled them in as much as they could before they got sent out to the waiting room, since they weren’t immediate family. Her parents came, horrified and distraught, and she and Judy had to comfort them, get them some water, and make sure they were okay, a turnabout of the typical hospital visit. The Hodges and William were happily teary to learn that John’s murderer was in custody, and they thanked Mary and Judy. The Tonys and El Virus arrived but they had to stay in the waiting room, too. Mary had no problem with her mother-in-law’s being outside, though she missed The Tonys. She heard that the Rosary Society showed up, and Tony-From-Down-The-Block had his eye on Conchetta Patrioca so love was in the air.
Except that Anthony wasn’t here yet. She hadn’t had her phone, so she hadn’t been able to call him herself and let him know what was going on. The cops had taken Judy’s phone for evidence, so Machiavelli had stepped up to call him, which must have blown his mind, not only hearing that his wife was almost killed but being told by her former enemy. Anthony hadn’t been able to get a flight from Boston until early the next morning, but sent his love.
Mary and Judy were admitted to the hospital overnight for observation, and, after some doing, they even got the same room, for the best/worst slumber party ever. Mary called Anthony using the landline in the room, but wasn’t able to reach him. Her parents insisted on staying the night since he wasn’t there, and they’d conked out in chairs. Judy had fallen asleep after the Hodges and William left, leaving Mary not completely surprised to learn that her best friend snored. Still it was one of the loveliest sounds Mary had ever heard, and she thanked God that Judy was alive.
Mary couldn’t sleep and lay in bed, her eyes open, her thoughts racing, and her palms resting on her belly. She couldn’t help but replay the events of the night, even as horrific as they were, but it helped her to process them, now that she and Judy were safe. She could feel the baby moving through the cottony blanket, and every kick made her feel better.
The room was dark and quiet, and the only light came from the sharp greens and blues of the monitors keeping track of her vital signs, since she’d been given IV fluids and had a plastic clip on her index finger. Moonlight streamed in through the window next to her bed, bathing the room in a soft glow, and instinctively she turned her head to look outside, toward the sky.
The night was darkly black, the stars ghosted by the haze over the city, but the moon hung low in the sky, a mottled whitish-gray as perfectly round as a child’s marble. Mary had always liked the moon, and Judy told had told her that it had a female energy. But Mary didn’t know if she was allowed to think that anymore, or if it violated gender discrimination laws.
“Babe?” somebody whispered, and Mary startled, turning from the window to see Anthony walking toward the bed, hardly visible except for his smile.
“What are you doing here?” Mary asked softly, marveling. She raised her arms, and Anthony came to her, scooping her up and holding her close. She burrowed into his chest, even though the zipper of his windbreaker rubbed against her cheek, and she breathed in the familiar smells of hard soap, faded aftershave, and oddly enough, pencil lead. Anthony was the only person she knew who still used pencils, which left a sooty bump on his index finger, and inexplicably, their scent.
“I couldn’t get a flight until morning, so I rented a car and drove. I would’ve called you but my phone died.” Anthony released her, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her hand and looking into her eyes. Mary could see his agonized expression in the moonlight, which touched her.
“Aw, you didn’t have to do that.”
“What happened, honey? It sounds like a nightmare.”
“It was, but it’s over now.”
“You could’ve been killed.”
“But I wasn’t, and the baby is fine.”
“Thank God. I want to hear everything, but not now, you have to rest.” Anthony’s eyes glistened. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, babe.”
“But you were, honey.” Mary heard herself say, her heart speaking for her. “You were—”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were, you’re always there for me, and I have so much to tell you. I’ve done so much thinking, but there’s one thing I know and it’s that you have always been there for me. All the time.” Mary tried to explain. “Whether it’s by my side, or waiting for me at home, or sleeping beside me. You’ve been there for me all along, and everything you said that night, about the baby, and about how I felt about the pregnancy, it was true.” She felt tears come to her eyes. “But that’s changing, it already has, I feel it. I’m so happy that we’re having this baby, and so grateful that I’m going to be home with her, or him, at least in the beginning. After that, we can sort out anything we need to sort out—”
“—I know, and we don’t have to worry about it now—”
“—and we’ll figure this out, even though I know it won’t be easy—”
“—we’ll do it with our families, and they’ll help—”
“—no, we’re the family.” Mary heard the truth of it, just as she said it aloud. “This is the family, the three of us. This is where it starts. We’re the center. If we just start here, and remember that, then everything else will
fall into place, whether it’s work, my parents, your mother, The Tonys, the Rosary Society—”
“The what?” Anthony smiled, puzzled.
“Never mind, whatever it is, anything that’s not the three of us will find its own orbit.”
“Its orbit?”
“I can’t explain it, I just know I’m right. The moon told me.”
“Then I agree with you and the moon, sweetheart,” Anthony told her.
And he rewarded her with a long, loving kiss.
EPILOGUE
It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon in May, and Mary stood at the kitchen sink in her parents’ house, washing the dishes after dinner. Anthony, her father, and The Tonys had gone into the living room to watch the Phillies game, leaving Mary and her mother in the kitchen to clean up and do other things that you needed ovaries to perform. Anthony had tried to help, but her mother had shooed him away, to preserve decades of DiNunzio tradition. Meanwhile, Mary could barely reach the sink over her belly, since she had passed her due date four days ago and was mentally counting down to delivery, every second of every day.
“Here, Ma.” Mary handed the wet plate to her mother, who dried it with a faded dish towel.
“Grazie.” Her mother smiled sweetly, wiping the plate until it was drier than it had been out of the factory.
“You know, we can let it dry on the rack.”
“Si, Maria,” her mother said, again sweetly, and Mary knew that even though she had said yes, what she really meant was no.
“And I wish you would let me get you a dishwasher.”
“Si, Maria.”
“Or a garbage disposal.”
“Si, Maria.”
“And an air conditioner, it could go right in the window. It would work better than a fan.”
“Si, Maria.”
“You know we’re not Amish, right?”
Her mother laughed, if only to humor Mary, who’d made the joke about a thousand times before. She didn’t really mind washing the dishes, but she wanted to make her mother’s life easier. Right now, it felt perfect, with a soft breeze coming through the kitchen window, the smell of tomato and basil scenting the air, the background music of baseball play-by-play, and she and her mother standing side by side the way they always had, having some quiet time together. Mary would’ve said it was Zen, but Roger had given that a bad name.
Mary picked up the next plate and washed it with a sponge, trying not to think about Roger. She had been relieved that he had pled guilty to murder and two counts of attempted murder, and though he hadn’t been sentenced yet, she hoped he would get at least twenty years. Judy was beginning to emerge from the grief that had enveloped her after John’s death and she had become William’s guardian, which had helped them both. Machiavelli’s settlement had more than compensated London Technologies and refilled the coffers at Rosato & DiNunzio. Shanahan had been fired from Glenn Meade, after he’d returned from a weeklong bender. And Bennie had already talked to Mary about when she’d be coming back after maternity leave, and it looked as if they’d have to hire a new associate. Whether it would be a boy or girl, nobody knew.
“I think is a boy, Maria,” her mother said, out of nowhere, with a smile.
“You think?” Mary asked, smiling at the irony, then suddenly she felt as if she had to go to the bathroom, urgently. In the next moment, a gush of warm water started to run down the inside of her legs. She looked down, almost dropping the plate. “Ma, I think my water just broke! Is that what happened? My water broke?”
“Maria, si!” Her mother’s hooded eyes flew open behind her bifocals, and family chaos erupted.
Anthony, her father, and The Tonys swarmed into the kitchen, leaving Mary without any shred of gynecological dignity, and she tried not to panic, though this wasn’t the way their delivery was supposed to happen. Their car was parked a block away, her go-bag was at her house, and she and Anthony had hoped it would be only the two of them who went to the hospital, but instead, it was the two of them plus her parents and The Tonys, who had parked in front of the house.
Anthony, Mary, and her parents piled into their ancient Bonneville convertible and raced to Pennsylvania Hospital. Mary called Dr. Foster and Judy, while Anthony navigated the massive car through the warren of South Philly streets like a captain steering a cruise ship through the Thousand Islands. The Tonys followed in Anthony’s Prius, and Mary hoped they and the car arrived in one piece.
They reached the hospital entrance and left the Bonneville with her parents while Anthony commandeered a wheelchair and rolled Mary onto the Labor & Delivery floor, where they were given a room, the baby was monitored, and Mary’s contractions eventually began. They were deceptively easy until they became agonizing and unbearable, and Anthony and a saintly nurse held Mary’s hand while she did her breathing exercises, which didn’t help at all. Neither did ice chips, focusing on a single spot, walking up and down the hallway, or squatting like a yogi, and as soon as Dr. Foster said it was okay, Mary asked for every drug legally available.
And a mere twenty-five hours of back labor later, Mary and Anthony were delivered a beautiful baby boy. They put him in Mary’s arms, and she looked down at him, her eyes brimming. She’d never seen anything so adorable, this tiny pink baby with wet, dark hair, his eyes looking up at her, unfocused and pure.
“He’s beautiful.” Anthony looked down at the baby, teary and tired.
“I love you both,” Mary whispered, feeling every word was instantly true.
“I love you both, too.” Anthony kissed her on the cheek.
It wasn’t long before Mary was moved to another room and it was filled to bursting with visitors. Judy and William, Bennie, Anne, Lou, Mary’s parents, El Virus, The Tonys, and even the lucky lady from the Rosary Society who had been dating Tony-From-Down-The-Block. Flowers, balloons, and pastries covered every surface, and Mary did the best she could to make sure everybody got to see the baby, but didn’t give him every communicable disease known to man.
William grinned from ear-to-ear. “I told you it was a boy!”
“You were right!” Mary laughed, her heart full and light, both at once, which seemed happily paradoxical.
Judy laughed, too. “So what are you going to name him?”
“YEAH, MARE. WHAT’S HIS NAME?”
“Maria, che?” her mother asked, and everyone waited to hear.
Mary looked at Anthony, and he looked back at her, since they’d already decided the baby’s name. “We’re naming him Anthony, after his father,” she answered, with a smile.
“It’s a Tony!” The Tonys cheered, and everyone else joined in.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Here’s where I get to say thank you, and my first thanks go to you, my reader. You have supported me in so many ways, for so many years now. I never take you or your loyalty for granted, and I never will. A writer is nothing without a reader, and I’m grateful to each and every one of you.
And now, thanks to the experts I consulted in my research for this book, who are named below. I owe them a huge debt of thanks, and of course, if there are any mistakes in the novel, it’s on me, not them.
Thank you so much to Detective Thomas Gaul of the Homicide Division of the Philadelphia Police Department, my homegirl Kathleen Tana, Esq., and Jerry Hoffman, Esq., my mentor as a lawyer. Thanks to Linda Redding of Cerebral Palsy Association of Chester County, and to Drs. Nora Demchur and Annelise Wilhite. And thanks to my dear friend Nicholas Casenta, Esq., Chief Deputy District Attorney of the Chester County District Attorney’s Office.
Special thanks also to Margie Moran and Ann Butchart.
Thank you to my goddess editor, Jennifer Enderlin, who is also the publisher of St. Martin’s Press, yet she still finds the time to improve my manuscripts. And big love and thanks to everyone at St. Martin’s Press and Macmillan, starting with the terrific John Sargent and Sally Richardson, plus Don Weisberg, Steve Cohen, Jeff Dodes, Lisa Senz, Brian Heller, Jeff Capshew, Brant Janeway, John Karle, Erica Mar
tirano, Jordan Hanley, Tom Thompson, Erik Platt, Anne Marie Tallberg, Tracey Guest, Rachel Diebel, and all the wonderful sales reps. Big thanks to Rob Grom, for outstanding cover design. Also hugs and kisses to Mary Beth Roche, Laura Wilson, Samantha Edelson, and the great people in audiobooks. I love and appreciate all of you!
Thanks and love to my terrific agent, Robert Gottlieb of Trident Media Group, for his unflagging dedication and enormous expertise, and thanks to Nicole Robson and Trident’s digital media team.
Many thanks and much love to the amazing Laura Leonard. She’s invaluable in every way, every day. Thanks, too, to Nan Daley for all of her research assistance and everything else, and thanks to her and Katie Rinda for “running the ranch,” so that I can be free to write.
Finally, thank you to my amazing daughter (and even co-author) Francesca, for all of her support, laughter, and love.
How lucky am I?
Very.
Also by Lisa Scottoline
Rosato & DiNunzio Novels
Exposed
Damaged
Corrupted
Betrayed
Accused
Rosato & Associates Novels
Think Twice
Lady Killer
Killer Smile
Dead Ringer
Courting Trouble
The Vendetta Defense
Moment of Truth
Mistaken Identity
Rough Justice
Legal Tender
Everywhere That Mary Went
Other Novels
After Anna
One Perfect Lie
Most Wanted
Every Fifteen Minutes
Keep Quiet
Don’t Go
Come Home
Save Me
Look Again
Daddy’s Girl
Dirty Blonde
Devil’s Corner
Running from the Law
Final Appeal
Nonfiction (with Francesca Serritella)
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