Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
J ust having to think about these questions of loyalty, even turning the idea over in my head, it’s all making me mad. Even more because I’m forced to do it out loud and with Mikey.
The man who I’ve trusted with my life, ever since I could remember.
I can see that he wants to know what’s going on. After last night, though, when he had to go and collect Alessio from the middle of who-knows-what in some club, he knows there is something in the air. That’s all new.
We’re used to some bad and unruly shenanigans. Naturally. We’re the F-Word.
But there’s something different about this.
I always need to be sure of the ground I’m standing on. It comes from all the times Daddy said he would let me be in charge of something, then at the last minute he would take it away and pull the rug out from under me.
Even when my brothers and me were playing together, just being kids together. I when Miko and Chris and me, we were putting on a play for the grown-ups. It was a silly thing we made up together, the three of us. It was like Jason Bourne meets Cinderella. Chris was the hero, Miko was the bad villain. Naturally, I was the princess.
I was directing it and we were all having a fantastic time. Until Daddy came in. He took one look, and said that I had to let Chris be the director. It was no fun after that.
Daddy always wanted to put Chris in charge of things. And Chris always messed them up.
“I wonder if I’ve been pushing too hard for the new house, Mikey.”
His head cocks to one side. There’s a look in his eye. Mikey can always get me to talk. “I wonder if somehow, I’ve unearthed something. Pulled up divisions, exposed some rift we might never have seen otherwise.”
Mikey’s listening. He watches me, paying attention and thinking.
“I’m not feeling close with Bruno or Carlo either right now. It seems like half the time I call them and get a voicemail. I send a text, crickets.”
“They went to check out some of the first nations resorts and casinos, right?”
“I know. They’ll be balls deep in chips and money and champagne. And probably showgirls, too.” Mikey gives me a look. “Okay. Probably not. But what do I know?”
“You’re not seriously doubting your instincts are you, Princess? I know that your nose and your intuition are the best there are, but if you start to doubt it, if you don’t know yourself what you can trust and what you can’t, then it’s time to…”
I smile before he says it.
We say it together. “Get thee to a nunnery.”
I laugh. “And what fun would I have there?”
Mikey puts on his shocked face. “None. Nuns are no fun and they have none.”
Once more, I call the number Alessio gave me for Jerry. I don”t know what I’m going to do if it rings and rings again. Tell Alessio to have Jerry call me, I suppose.
This time it only rings twice.
“Who the fuck is this?” The voice sounds like some beast in a cavern, deep in darkest east Hell. “You called once already. What’s the matter, you can’t leave a message? The fuck you want?”
In the sweetest voice I can summon, I tell him, “I’m not a fan of leaving unnecessary digital traces. And, if I may, who the fuck am I speaking to?”
“Oh, you want to play it that way?” I can hear him suck breath through his teeth. “I’m guessing you must be the frail my dimwit nephew was panting and slobbering about.”
Panting and slobbering? This is the man Alessio told me I was bound to like and get along with?
Well, at least the call reinforces what Mikey told me. My instincts are still sharp. This can not be the personality Jerry has been showing to Alessio.
Mikey gestures for Gianni to bring more coffee and grappa. I frown and hold up a hand to say, ‘no,’ but Mikey has on his ‘Mikey knows best,’ look and I know better than to argue.
The call is brief and to the point. Jerry gives me a time and a place and he hangs up in my face. If he weren’t Alessio’s uncle, I would go and make holes in him.
My thoughts turn back to what Mikey and I were discussing before.
“I want to make certain that every man’s arms and combat skills are up to par.”
“They all have passes to one or more of the ranges.”
“Make sure that they use them. And give everyone a weekly session with a top flight instructor.”
“You know they’re all going to get grouchy and say their skills are sharp as knives.”
“You’re right, of course. Set up a weekly tournament. Post the top twenty scores and let everyone know there’s a case of top shelf cognac for the top score, a case of vintage champagne for the second best, and five grand for the most accurate and consistent shooting of the month.”
“Do you still want me to give them instructors?”
“No. You were right. Let’s motivate them to get their own training.” Mikey’s smile broadens as I tell him, “But I do want everyone trained in those martial arts that Mossad use.”
“Krav Maga?”
I nod. “Remember a girl from Mossad who came to the old house and gave us training? Hire her if you can. Ask her if she can get someone to teach Brazilian Ju-jitsu, too.”
Mikey nods. “Both of them are high intensity, ruthless and savage martial arts forms. Very efficient and ultra lethal.” He makes a note on his phone. “You want those lessons to be compulsory, Princess?”
“No.” That gives me an idea. “But I want a running tournament and everyone competing. No excuses.”
“You’re expecting trouble.”
“No, I want to prevent some.”
We’re both thoughtful for a few moments until Gianni shows up by my side. Mikey was right about me needing another shot of grappa. There’s a buzzing in my chest and the blood zings in my arms.