Italian Knights (14 page)

Ryce stood perfectly still, waiting. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sal glanced back over his shoulder, looking through the glass window of the deli. Annie was standing behind the counter, playing with little Michael. His eyes followed her as he began to speak.

“The night Tony died we were supposed to be on a stakeout at a warehouse. We’d gotten a tip that the old Harlem Street gang was back in business and about to hit an electronics warehouse.”

“
Supposed
to be?” Ryce questioned. He’d been a cop too long not to pick up on Sal’s inflection.

Sal looked at him, his eyes bleak and haunted. “
I
was on the stakeout, but Tony went over to the restaurant, you know the one near the station?”

Ryce nodded, waiting for Sal to go on.

“He wasn’t there alone,” Sal added softly, taking a deep breath. “Tony was like a brother to me, but I tell you, Ryce, I never approved of the way he acted. But I covered for him, all the time. That night, he’d gone to the restaurant to meet a…lady. He was supposed to meet me at ten, but he never showed up. The next thing I know, a call comes over the radio that an officer had been shot—at the restaurant.” Sal looked at Ryce, his eyes filled with pain. “By the time I got there, Tony was…dead,” Sal whispered, his voice tortured.

“What the hell happened?” Ryce growled.

“He was sitting at the table talking to his lady, and I guess her husband came in and caught them. I guess they’d been carrying on for some time, and the husband found out about it. They had words, and the guy pulled a gun.”

“God!” Ryce shook his head. “And you mean to say you never told Annie?”

Sal shifted uncomfortably. “I couldn’t tell her, Ryce. I covered for Tony, not to protect him, but to protect Annie. I couldn’t bear to tell her the truth. It would have killed her. What good would it have done? Tony was dead. What difference did the circumstances make? It wouldn’t bring Tony back and it certainly wouldn’t change anything. All it would do is hurt her more. And she’s had enough of that.”

Ryce shook his head again. Now he understood why Sal had been so torn up after his partner’s death. “What about Internal Affairs?”

Sal looked at him and smiled sadly. “I know better than to mess around with those guys. I told them the truth. Tony’s reputation with the ladies was pretty well-known.” Sal shook his head in disgust. “The only one who didn’t know about it was Annie.”

“You were cleared?”

Sal nodded.

“What did you end up telling Annie?”

“Just that Tony was shot in a restaurant trying to mediate an argument. She received all her benefits because technically Tony was on duty; just because he wasn’t where he was supposed to be didn’t make any difference. The duty roster showed him on duty, and that’s the way they settled it.

“Why the hell didn’t you just come clean with her?” Ryce demanded.

“As I said, I didn’t want to hurt her. But to tell you the truth, Ryce, by covering up for Tony, even in death, I feel as if I’ve been just as dishonest and disloyal to Annie as he was.” Sal sighed in exasperation. “What the hell am I going to do?”

“Do you love her, Sal?”

Sal was thoughtful for a long moment as his eyes drifted back to Annie. She was nuzzling the baby, with a beautiful smile on her face.

“Do you?” Ryce prompted again, and Sal nodded.

“God, yes.”

“Then you’ve got to tell her the truth, Sal, about everything. You’ve covered for your so-called friend long enough. You’ve carried this burden long enough. She has a right to know. One thing I know from experience is that you’ve got to be honest with yourself and your feelings. You’ve protected this guy long enough, been a better friend than he would have been to you, I’ll bet. I have a feeling part of the reason you feel so guilty about your feelings for Annie is because you haven’t been honest with her.”

Sal looked at Ryce and smiled. “You know, you just might have something there. I hated lying to her; she trusted me. But, hell, I just didn’t want to hurt her anymore. I’d planned to tell her, after she’d gotten stronger—but it just never seemed the right time.”

“Make the time, Sal. She has a right to know what happened.” Ryce snorted in disgust. “Hell, no wonder you took off after Tony was killed. Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“I just wasn’t ready to talk about it, Ryce,” he said quietly. “What a waste. Maybe if I’d been there—maybe if I—”

“Maybe ain’t gonna cut it, Sal,” Ryce growled. “Tony was a big boy and knew what he was doing. You’ve got to stop carrying this guilt around with you. It’s not your fault he died. Let the man take responsibility for his own actions. You’ve been trying to protect a dead man, Sal, and it’s tearing you up inside.”

Sal watched Annie through the window again; she was smiling as she nuzzled the baby. “How am I going to tell her?”

“Just be up front about it. Hell, you weren’t her husband’s keeper. It’s going to hurt a hell of a lot more if she finds out from someone else, and believe me, something like that has a way of coming out.”

“Hell, Ryce, I waited all my life for Annie. It’s right, I just know it. But I’m afraid if I tell her—if she learns I’ve deliberately deceived her—I don’t want to lose her. For the first time in my life, I’m scared.”

Ryce smiled. “Scared? Hell, Sal, you’re not the first man love has crept up on and taken by surprise. It’s scary. But you owe it to her and to yourself to be honest. It’s the only way for you two to begin anew.” Ryce clapped Sal on the shoulder. “Just tell her. Everything. I have a feeling once you come clean with her, all your guilt will disappear.”

“I just don’t want to hurt her, she’s had enough hurt to last her a lifetime.”

“Make no mistake, Sal, it’s not going to be easy. She’s going to be hurt. But once she realizes why you did what you did, and how much you love her, she’ll understand.”

Sal sighed. “I hope so, Ryce. I hope so.” Sal smiled. “Thanks, Ryce. I appreciate it.”

Ryce laughed. “Appreciate it, hell. Wait until I tell Willie someone has finally captured Smooth, Suave Sal!”

Chapter Eight

“Ryce seems very nice, but a little intimidating,” Annie said with a laugh as she pushed her plate away. She glanced around the small restaurant. Nestled in the basement of a converted brownstone, Parillo’s was a family-run operation and had the best Italian food in the city. The decor was strictly cafeteria, red-and-white plastic tablecloths, vinyl-covered chairs, and fake flowers strewn about the walls. Loud Italian music blared from speakers hoisted near the ceiling. What Parillo’s lacked in decor, it made up for in cuisine. The place was known citywide for its food and was packed almost every night. She brought her gaze back to Sal’s, her eyes sparkling.

He laughed softly, covering her hand with his. “Ryce has been called a lot worse things than just intimidating, Annie. But he’s a great guy. Since he fell in love with Willie, he’s really changed.”

“You promised to tell me the rest of the story,” she reminded him, anxious to hear more.

Smiling, Sal sipped his coffee. “T.C. was a street-smart eleven-year-old, hell-bent and headed for trouble. Until he ran into Ryce. Boy, Annie, that kid didn’t know the meaning of the word
trouble
until he met Ryce. They were two of a kind—unorthodox, rebellious, loners. Ryce lived by his own rules, cop or not. When he met T.C., Ryce was determined to give the kid a home, and something else he’d never had—love. But Willie—that’s Ryce’s wife—she was the social worker in charge of T.C. She took one look at Ryce and decided he wasn’t suited to raise a flag, let alone a child. For a while, things between the two of them flew fast and furious, with Willie and Ryce colliding at every turn. But eventually they worked it out. And somewhere along the line, Ryce, the guy who never let anyone close, fell head over heels in love with Willie.” Sal laughed. “It’s hard to believe he’s actually married and the father of five.”

“Five!” Annie gasped.

“T.C. was the first kid they took in. Somehow, over the past two years, Ryce has brought home three more, as well as their having had Michael Ryce, Junior.”

“And his wife’s expecting again?” Annie’s eyes glittered with amazement, and just a bit of envy. She’d always wanted children, but Tony had been violently opposed to the idea, fearing it would tie them down.

Sal nodded. “Twins, Ryce said. He was the last guy in the world I ever expected to get married.”

“Kind of like you,” she teased, and Sal’s eyes darkened.

“Annie,” he said quietly, his eyes softly searching hers. He covered her hand with his. He wanted so much to tell her what he was feeling, but he knew he couldn’t until they’d settled a few things. He’d been trying so hard the past few weeks to prove to her that what was happening between them was not just some emotional tie, or a feeling of duty or obligation, but the real thing.

She filled his nights and his days. All he could do was think about Annie. Soon he would tell her, but he wanted to be sure she understood that this was something precious between them. Love didn’t come too often, at least not the kind of love he felt for her. He wanted to take his time, let her get used to the idea. He’d waited his whole life for her, and Sal knew if he had to, he could wait a little more. She was worth it.

“Annie,” he said slowly, gently stroking her hand with his thumb, loving the instant response she gave. “I’ve never gotten married because I haven’t found the right woman. Marriage is too important to make a mistake. When I get married, it’s going to be forever.”

Forever.
Her eyes slid closed and Annie desperately clung to her composure. She couldn’t read anything into Sal’s comments. She couldn’t get her hopes up. But still, the thought of being married to Sal, of having his children, brought a wonderful giddiness to her heart.

“Come on. Let’s go back to your house. You can walk off some of that wine,” he said with a grin. Sal stood up, dropped his napkin to the table and pulled her chair out.

Nodding, Annie let Sal guide her out of the restaurant, feeling a bit woozy. Usually a nondrinker, she’d had two glasses of wine and they’d gone immediately to her head.

Breathing deeply of the warm night air, Annie sighed happily as they walked. Parillo’s was only a few blocks from her house and they’d chosen to walk, and enjoy the warm summer evening. She glanced at Sal, noting he was watching her intently, a strange expression on his face.

Something was on his mind. Something important. She’d known him long enough to know his moods. He shared everything with her, and she knew when he was ready, he would talk to her.

Sal clasped her hand in his. “Let’s walk to Peanut Park.” Peanut Park was really officially named Arrigo Park, but renamed Peanut because of its unusual shape. Bordered by saplings and cottonwoods, the park was nearly deserted except for a few children playing stickball at the north end.

Holding hands, they walked in silence for a few moments, occasionally waving to a neighbor who was still sitting outside.

“Annie?”

“What, Sal?”

He stopped, turning to face her directly. “Do you ever think about…him?” He tightened his fingers on her hand as his gaze held hers.

She didn’t need to ask who he was talking about. She knew.
Tony.
It was odd for Sal to bring him up now, after all this time. Sal had never talked about him. In fact, he’d deliberately avoided talking about him. Perhaps that explained his sudden quietness.

“Sometimes,” she admitted.

“What do you think about?” he asked quietly, urging her forward. Sal carefully held her arm as they avoided a broken patch in the sidewalk.

Annie thought about his question. “I don’t know, I guess I think about what a waste it was for him to die so young. I think about—I guess I think about a lot of things. After Tony first—after it first happened, I thought a lot about him.” She shrugged. “I guess I felt guilty.”

“Guilty?” Sal came to a halt directly under a streetlamp and looked at her. “What the hell did you have to feel guilty about?”

Annie glanced away. This was something—her innermost feelings about her husband—that she’d never discussed with anyone. She wasn’t certain anyone would understand.

“Well,” she said tentatively, “I think about the fact that our marriage…well, it never really had a chance to get off the ground.” A flash of lightning lit up the sky.

“Let’s head back, before we get caught in a downpour,” Sal suggested, wondering about her statement. He guided her back in the direction of the house. A breeze kicked up, ruffling the trees. Annie pushed a tumbled curl off her face.

“Do you miss him?” Sal asked carefully, picking up the conversation. Annie smiled in the darkness.

“Sometimes—I guess.” She sighed, keeping her gaze downcast. “It all seems so long ago. When I think about him now, it seems as if we really weren’t married at all.”

“Why?” He glanced at her, his eyes roaming over her beautiful features. Her curls had come loose from the combs she’d secured them with and now blew around her face like a dark halo.

Annie shrugged. It was going to be hard to put what she wanted to say into words. “Tony and I—” She stopped. “It’s been so long now, Sal. Memories fade,” she said softly. She’d never talked to anyone about the problems in her marriage. There was never anyone to talk about them
with
. Tony could be very noncommunicative. There would be periods of time when he didn’t talk to her at all, about anything. It was hard to admit, even to Sal, that her so-called perfect marriage wasn’t so perfect after all.