21. Where’s Halston?
WHERE’S HALSTON?
GAbrIEL
Mr. Moretti had asked Gabriel to speak at Angelo’s funeral, so with a heavy heart, Gabriel walked to the front of the church, climbed the stairs, and stood behind the podium. After adjusting the mic, he set his sights on the mourners filling the pews of St. Peter’s Church.
Over two hundred had shown up to honor Angelo Moretti. Angelo would have turned it into a party, had too much to drink, and passed out in one of the pews. But Angelo wasn’t there, and Gabriel would have to do his best to pay tribute his long-time friend and right-hand man.
“Today, we honor the life of Angelo Moretti,” Gabriel began as he acknowledged Mr. and Mrs. Moretti in the front row.
“I’m Gabriel Santini, Angelo’s friend since grade school.
We met on the playground. Both gritted our teeth through school, looking to get out and conquer the world.
When I moved to Italy, Angelo visited me and never left.
When I started a business, Angelo was right there, working it like a boss.
He was unstoppable, determined, and filled with conviction.
He was the friend everyone wanted to hang with.
He was the businessman who didn’t lose a deal.
He was a loyal friend, a loving son and brother.
He adored his family. His parents and sister, his grandparents, his cousins.
He had a soft spot for stray kittens. No matter what he had going on, he’d bring ‘em home, feed them, then take them to his favorite shelter. They nicknamed him the kitten whisperer.”
He paused while a wave of chuckles and sniffles filled the large room.
“Angelo is not replaceable and everyone here knows that,” Gabriel continued. “I miss him. I hate that he’s gone, that he was taken from us. I’ll never get over losing him and I’ll always miss him. Life is darker without Angelo.” He glanced upward. “I love you, my brother.”
He descended from the podium, pausing to pay his respects to Angelo’s parents before he left the sanctuary for his seat.
A few more people spoke, the priest returned to close with mass. The service ended and the attendees filed outside. Next stop, the cemetery.
As Gabriel made his way to his truck, he checked his phone. Nothing from Halston, but he hadn’t expected to hear from her. She’d left her phone at the hotel. Frustration had him gritting his teeth. He hated that he couldn’t check in with her.
“Hey, G,” Angelo’s sister, Cece, called as she hurried toward him in the parking lot. “Can I ride with you?”
“I’m—” the excuse, the lie got stuck in his throat. “Sure, get in.”
“Why don’t you open my door for me?”
He walked over, peered down. “We’re paying respects to your brother, Cece.”
“My father told me you’re going to make me a respectable woman.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “I’m sorry Angelo is gone, but this is a decent outcome.”
Don’t drag this out.
“I can’t marry you, Cece. I’m sorry.”
“What!!!” she screamed. “What do you mean, you aren’t marrying me? You gotta marry me. You’re the reason my brother is dead. What the hell did you think? You’d just walk away. I don’t effin’ think so!”
One of Angelo’s cousins ran over. “What’s goin’ on?”
“G agreed to marry me,” Cece whined. “Now, he’s gone and changed his mind.”
“You backin’ out, G?”
“I never agreed to marry Cece.”
“G, take Cecelia to the cemetery,” Angelo’s cousin said. “You can work it out another time.”
“I’m not getting in the car with him if he’s not my boyfriend,” Cece wailed.
“Take her to the gravesite,” Gabriel said to the cousin.
“Fuck you, Santini,” Cece growled as she stomped off.
Gabriel got into his truck, started it up, and turned on the headlights indicating he was in a funeral procession. As he followed the car in front of him, he said, “I’m sorry Angelo. I can’t marry her.”
“I know you’d tell me not to,” he continued as he drove out of the church parking lot. “Marriage is supposed to be a good thing. I’m not in love with Cece. I fell in love. Fell hard. I wish you’d gotten to meet her. You’d say she was too good for me… and you’d be right.”
Another wave of sadness fell over him, and he drove to the cemetery in silence. Once there, he followed the other mourners to Angelo’s final resting place.
I’m sorry, Angelo. I blame myself for your death. I probably should marry Cece. That would be my punishment, being in a miserable marriage for the rest of my life.
His heart ached as he walked toward the freshly dug gravesite.
Angelo’s father marched over, a scowl slashing his brows. “You rejected my Cecelia. How dare you show up here!”
“It doesn’t matter that I don’t love her?” Gabriel asked.
“You owe me,” Mr. Moretti said. “You took my son. Now, you marry my daughter and give me grandsons. That’s how we roll.
You don’t get to walk away from this without a penance, Gabriel.
I don’t care how much money you have or how successful you are.
I care that you took my son. Now, you take my daughter, and you marry her. ”
“I want to pay my respects to Angelo,” Gabriel said. “You gonna let me do that or not?”
The old man gritted his teeth. “Angelo would want that.” He turned and walked away, a broken man who had to bury his son.
Another wave of grief washed over Gabriel. This was how he felt when his own father had been slain. Empty and utterly gutted.
He joined the mourners, staying toward the back.
The priest said a prayer, then the casket was lowered into the ground.
Angelo’s mother started wailing, the cries from the family slicing through him while his heart shattered.
The priest tossed a handful of dirt, then one by one the family did the same.
“Gabriel,” called out Mr. Moretti. “Come pay your respects.”
Gabriel squeezed through the crowd, picked up a handful of dirt, and tossed it onto the shiny, black casket. “Rest in peace, Angelo. I love you, brother.”
He extended his hand to Mr. Moretti. The two shook before Gabriel walked away. He’d rejected their daughter. Staying would only anger the bereaving family. They were suffering enough. No point in making things worse.
With a renewed determination to find the person who’d gunned Angelo down, he got into his truck and drove away.
I will find him, Angelo. And I will take him out. You have my word.
At half past four, Gabriel returned to Santini Ristorante, this time parking behind the building. He let himself in through the rear entrance, entered the office. Teddy wasn’t there, but he could be helping set up for the first dinner service or simply hadn’t arrived yet.
Gabriel pulled up the video from the night Angelo was gunned down and replayed it. As he watched the situation unfold—the masked hitman emerging from the parking lot, Angelo shoving him out of the way, and the shooter’s bullets taking his friend’s life—the fury roared to the surface.
Though difficult to watch, Gabriel played the video again, this time homing in on how the hitman walked, how he gripped the gun. Then, he reviewed the surveillance video from the camera attached to the streetlamp at the far end of the parking lot.
A steady stream of cars drove in and out.
From what he could see, everyone who parked in the lot made their way into the restaurant.
None masked, none armed. Then, someone drove in and parked in the darkest corner.
When they emerged, their mask was already in place.
He rewound to right after the car turned in and stopped the video.
From what he could see, the person wasn’t masked.
He captured the image and uploaded it to IDware, a proprietary facial recognition system designed by cybersecurity genius, Stryker Truman.
While the program searched for a match, Gabriel made his way toward the dining room. There, he found a smattering of early dinner guests. After saying hello and making sure they were good, he pulled up to the bar and ordered a San Pelligrino.
Tara joined him. “I didn’t see you come in.” Her cheeks pinkened.
“Back entrance. Things still good?”
“Busy here. How was your lunch with your grandmother?”
“It was nice.”
“She’s very sweet.” Tara paused. “Um, I was wondering if you’d… um… ever want to have coffee with me sometime?” Her cheeks flushed with color.
“Absolutely.” But he didn’t want to mislead her, so he clasped her hand in his. “Tara, my life is in Italy, you know that, right?”
She was staring at his hand. “Uh-huh.”
“We can never be more than good friends.”
She flicked her gaze to his, the disappointment in her eyes slashing through him. “I know, but I had to ask.”
He kissed her cheek, then her other. “We go after what we want. I admire that in you. I know you can do much better than me.”
That made her smile. “You’d probably break my heart.”
“No,” he replied. “You would break mine.”
“Hey!” Teddy boomed behind them. “Two of my fave people. What’s the word?”
“I just came from Angelo’s funeral,” Gabriel said.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tara said.
One of the servers hurried over. “Excuse me. There’s a gentleman asking for you, Tara.”
“What’s wrong?” Tara asked.
“Nothing,” the server replied. “He wanted me to ask if you could have a cup of coffee with him before it gets busy.”
All three glanced over the server’s shoulder.
“He’s a regular,” said the waiter. “I think he’s been lunching here pretty much daily because of you.”
“Like I said,” Gabriel added, “you can do much better than me.” He tossed her a nod. “We’re here to protect you. Go talk to him.”
“I definitely agree that Tara can do better than you.” Teddy grinned. “I’ll come with you Tara.”
Tara shot them a smile. “I got this. I got fooled once, never again.”
“Lessons are best learned the hard way,” Gabriel said.
“I’ll keep an eye on you,” Teddy replied before Tara returned with the server to say hello to her admirer.
Teddy kept a watchful eye on his employee before he flicked his gaze to Gabriel. “How was the funeral?”
“The Morettis hate me.” Gabriel drank down the glass of San Pelligrino. “You want some?”