A Bullet for Carlos (13 page)

“I know our good company didn’t bring you all the way from Brooklyn, Concetta. What’s the matter?” Dominic waited patiently through the silence.

After a few seconds of staring at the scars and wrinkles on my hands, I looked up. “I’m going to Texas on a case.”

“Texas? What for?” Zeppe asked.

“There’s a case that relates to one of mine.”

Zeppe got up from his chair and grabbed my shoulder. “That’s bullshit. You’re going there for the drug dealers.”

“I’m not on that case. I—” I shot a look at him. “How did
you
know that case from Brooklyn had anything to do with Texas?”

“Let someone else handle this,” Zeppe said.

“We can’t protect you in Texas.” Dominic pulled some cheese out of the fridge and set it on the counter next to a bottle of the good olive oil and a few cloves of garlic. As he sliced the garlic into slivers, he shook his head. “They are barbarians down there, and they don’t follow the rules.”

“The rules?” If what he said wasn’t so ridiculous, I’d have laughed. “Uncle Dominic, you’re a damn gangster.”

With the knife still in his hand, he waved his objections. “But we have
rules
.”

“Maybe
you
do, but not the others. It’s all about money now. And that means it’s all about drugs.”

Dominic put the cheese onto a plate, drizzled the olive oil on it and placed a few slivers of garlic on each piece. “Why do you always want to argue? Let’s enjoy the day.” He set the plate on the table while I got the espresso cups.

“When do you leave?” Zeppe asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“Too soon,” Zeppe said.

As I waited for Dominic’s response, I watched him, stirring sugar into his espresso like he had for so many years. This was the first time that it ever crossed my mind that I might not see him again and that frightened me. I knew this trip to Texas might be dangerous because I fully intended to hunt down the son-of-a-bitch that killed Sean and Jerry and, even though I was scared to die, I was more afraid of losing Zeppe and Dominic. If I lost them, nothing was left.

Sometimes I hated them for what they were. But when it came down to it, I loved them. Despite that, there were things I needed to know.

I took a deep breath. “Zio Domenico, what happened to my father?”

Dominic stopped stirring his espresso and walked to the table. “I thought your mother told you?”

“She said he was killed in a car accident, and she went into great detail when she told me about it.”

“So why do you ask
me
?”

“I asked you to get to the truth.” Suspicion was digging a root in my soul. Uncle Dominic could normally hide his emotions, but something wasn’t ringing true.

“What makes you think your mother lied?”

“Because Mom wouldn’t have gone into that kind of detail telling me about his death unless she was hiding something.”
Just like you are.

Dominic paused, then, “You’re too smart. I always said you were.” He reached his hand over and patted mine. “Your father was a bum. A drug addict.”

I pulled my hand away and sat rigid. “What do you mean?”

“He was a user. He died from an overdose.” Dominic shook his head. “After robbing a store, he took the money, bought heroin, and shot it in his arm. That night he died.” Dominic sat back and finished his espresso. “I never wanted to have to tell you this.”

I stood, cracking my knuckles, then I walked to Dominic and put my arms around him. “I don’t want to hear any more…but thank you for telling me the truth.” I kissed him on the head, then hugged him. “I wanted to know before I left for Texas.”

“We will miss you,” Dominic said.

Zeppe grabbed me from behind and spun me around. “I’m really gonna miss you, baby girl. You’re the only one who makes me laugh, and now you’re leaving me alone with this old fart.”

“You’ll do fine,” I said.

“You should stop and say goodbye to the kids before you go,” Zeppe said.

“Of course I will. I planned on doing it on the way home.” I looked at the watch. “Speaking of which, I have to go. I still have things to do at home.” Tears welled in my eyes. “I’ll be back before you know it.
Ciao, Zio Domenico
.
Zio
Zeppe
.” I hugged them, then headed for the steps.

***

Zeppe spread open the
blinds and watched, waiting for her to come out of Gallo’s house. “You shouldn’t have lied, Dom.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Zeppe walked the few steps across the room and sat on the couch. “I’m tired of all of it. I should have quit that first night.”

Dominic nodded. “Maybe you should become a priest. Someone needs to keep Maria and Mamma company in heaven.”

Zeppe broke into a fit of laughter. “They ain’t letting
me
in.”

Dominic wasn’t laughing. “I’m serious. Not about the priest, but you should quit, do your penance.” He paused for a few seconds. “Perhaps in time…if you believe what the priests say.”

“Dom, I don’t want to—”

Dominic wagged a finger at him. “Sh. Please. Let me have my fantasies. I need to believe that you can be saved, Giuseppe.
In caso contrario, esso è stato per niente tutti i.
”

“Jesus Christ, Dom, talk English. We’ve been in this country forever. Besides, it wasn’t for nothin’. Ain’t no way it was for nothin.’”

Dominic grabbed the cups and went to get more espresso. “I would have given anything to be like you.”

“What? A coward.”

Dominic shook his head. “It doesn’t take a brave man to pull a trigger. Brave men are the ones who work all day then come home to take care of a family.” He lowered his head, staring at the cup of espresso. “What have I done except kill people?”

“I know what you
should
have done—married Maria.”

“She wouldn’t have me.”

“You could have quit.”

Dominic shook his head as he got more olive oil. “You were always so gullible. People never quit on Vito.”

“Then you should have married someone else.”

Dominic seemed lost, staring into nothing. “I had Maria.”

“As a neighbor.”

“As a friend,” Dominic said. “And now I have Concetta.”

“Not if she finds out what you did.” Zeppe paused. “That brings up the question. When are you gonna tell her?”

“Never! And don’t get soft on me and say something. If you ever tell her, I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Okay, Dom. Okay.” Zeppe sipped his espresso and nibbled on a piece of cheese. “But I’m telling you, if she finds out herself, she’ll hate you.”

“She’s hated me before.” Dominic swirled his cup and stared at Zeppe.

“That was over little stuff. If she finds out you killed her father she’ll hate you like never before.”

Dominic slammed his fist on the table. “
Basta!
I don’t want to hear about it.” He took a moment to settle down, then he stared into Zeppe’s eyes. “What are we going to do about this Mexican? We can’t let him try for Concetta again.”

“We got no juice in Houston.”

Dominic sat in silence. “Get Fabrizio. Tell him I want to spread the word that anyone with information on these…these…
animali
, will be rewarded.”

After lighting his pipe, Dominic thought some more. “And let them know they will be protected. If they need a new family, we will welcome them.”

“Dominic, Jesus Christ—”

Dominic held up his hand. “And I want to call in all favors. We need friends in Houston. Let it be known that the enemies of this animal will be welcomed as friends.”

Zeppe wiped his mouth and stood. He’d seen Dominic in this mode before. With Connie in trouble, nothing would stop him. “Whatever you say, Dom.”

Chapter 15

Houston

M
y flight took off on time and, according to the schedule, I’d be in Texas in about four hours. I never slept on planes; it was too much fun to watch people, so I leaned back as far as the seat allowed, and looked for interesting subjects.

A couple across the aisle from me, who looked to be in their twenties, had spent the last half hour pawing each other and laughing too loud. I don’t know if I was pissed off or envious. They reminded me that I was still single—very single—and with no prospects. Ten years from now I’d probably be in the same boat I was now.

Thinking of forty made me think about my miserable—make that nonexistent—sex life. For a long time I blamed Dominic. Growing up I had few friends and even fewer boyfriends. It wasn’t until later I found out that the boys were afraid of Dominic. When I went to college I got wild for a few years, but my first broken heart fixed that. Now sex consisted of rubbing myself and dreaming of the good ones, but those I could count on one hand—without using my thumb. Or my pinkie. Or…

A bag of pretzels and a few drinks later, the pilot announced we were about to land in Houston, and that the temperature was 71 degrees. I’d left New York with slush piled in the streets, cars covered in salt and dirt, and people wrapped in coats, hats, and gloves—71 sounded great.

A jolt of excitement ran through me as I thought of what I’d do regarding the drug case. My mind raced. I tried shifting thoughts to the Mason case but it didn’t keep me focused. I couldn’t possibly imagine how anyone could do what that person did to another human being. And during the times I wasn’t thinking about one of those cases, my mind wandered to what Uncle Dominic told me about my father—died a drug addict. It made me wonder what my father was really like. And what drove him to drugs.

This line of thinking brought back images of Mom and the stroke she had. What a horrible end to a vibrant life—six years of near complete paralysis. I shivered, recalling the day I found her at the bottom of the steps. The doctors gave her no hope and recommended putting her in a home. Dominic would hear nothing of it. He hired a nurse to care for Mom’s special needs, but Dominic did most of the work himself. It was a special lesson in love. One I never forgot.

Within a few minutes we landed. It took me half an hour to get my bags, and my gun, then another forty minutes to get a rental. I opted for a convertible. Soon I was heading toward the city with the top down. Even at 71 degrees, it was chilly with the top down, but I loved it.

Wind blew a piece of dirt into my eye, and as I rubbed it out, I saw the Houston skyline rising up from the plains like something out of a science fiction novel. The whole city was pointed buildings and mirrored glass in strange geometric shapes, and it all shouted
new
and
clean
. It was a far cry from New York, where the skyline was far bigger but the buildings seemed stiff and old. After seeing Houston, I’d swear the buildings in New York had moss and ivy growing on them. I pulled out a pair of shades and fit them snugly on my nose.

A smile popped onto my face. Before long I would be working with some Texas cowboy cop, and on my way to clearing not only a cold case, but that drug case as well. That was the one vow I’d made on the way down here. I would
not
leave Texas without my name cleared.

Chapter 16

A Dangerous Insult

O
n Tuesday Mr. Perfect went to the park to jog. He knew she would be there. Keeping a slow pace, he waited until she was within view then kicked it up a notch. As he got closer he pushed it, smiling at her as he passed.

The next day at the gym he ignored her. Made sure he didn’t even make eye contact, though he felt her watching him. On Thursday, he again went to the park to jog. This time he slowed when he caught up to her. Matched her pace.

“Hello again,” he said, panting as he ran.

She smiled. “Hey.”

“Great day for running.”

She tilted her head toward a bench ahead, slowed to a walk, then plopped down, breathing hard. “You come here often?”

He stood, bent, with his hands resting on his thighs. “Whenever the weather’s nice.”

“Me too.” She waited for another jogger to pass, a girl half her age, then looked back to him. “I see you at the gym all the time. Have you been going there long?”

He laughed. “I think I opened the place.” After walking around for a moment he caught his breath.