Chapter 15
Mario
We found the body of a man near the top of the hill. Firenze spotted the muzzle flash during the exchange and had finally located where he had landed inside a small grove of scrubby strawberry trees.
He’d been dead before he finished falling.
And the bullet hole between his eyes wasn’t from one of my men’s guns.
No, this had Ringo’s signature all over it. “Dispose of this.”
Firenze nodded and picked two men to carry the corpse away. Meanwhile Loppa complained. Maybe it was the pain, or the close call. But it was likely because I’d insisted on joining the search.
I had to. I couldn’t face Ringo without the murderous urge to destroy him eating at my chest.
Too soon, Loppa and I returned to the scene of our ruined breakfast and the dotted blood splotches that proved one of my men paid a price to protect me.
That wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
The urge to kill Ringo was strong. “You bastard.”
“That’s the way my father made me,” he joked. I’d heard it often.
“You brought this to my door.”
“I did no such thing,” Ringo fired back. Then he pointed at the slope we’d just returned from. “And that? What did you find up there?”
“A body,” Loppa growled
Ringo grinned. “That’s two, Mario… Damn it, think!”
“About what? You stabbed me.”
“It was habit! How many times have we sparred like that? How many times do I have to tell you to trap the arm before it comes across the body? You’re still making that mistake. You’re just lucky I wasn’t really trying to kill you.”
Allie rushed out. I grabbed her and pulled her under the overhang. Even though we’d swept the hillside, that didn’t mean it was safe.
“Are you okay? Really okay?” She was careful not to touch my wounded side, but searched my eyes for the truth.
“I’m fine.”
Ringo kept ranting. “And this bullshit with you sitting in the open. Fucking paint a goddamn sign on your back or something!”
Ellie followed her sister onto the terrace.
No fewer than three people shouted, including Ringo. “Get inside.”
“No. I thought—”
It was clear she was confused. Worse? Emotionally attached to Ringo. That bastard likely seduced my wife’s sister. I rounded on him. “You’ve delivered the girl. Leave.”
“No can do. I control your marker and figured out a way to clear you.”
“What?” Allie stepped in front of me, as if to protect me. I gathered her under an arm to tug her into my shadow.
“Show him, Ellie,” Ringo prompted.
“I don’t fucking have to show him anything. And you… y-you shot someone.”
Like it mattered to Ringo. He’d lord that kill over my head for a year or more if we survived the day.
“The papers, Ellie. You know, about that douchebag Pornstach.”
“You told him the nickname?” Allie asked her sister.
“It slipped out, I couldn’t help it.” Ellie shrugged and dug into her tote bag. She handed a stack of papers to Allie. “Here.”
“This is your itinerary for Rome.” Allie barely glanced at the pages and set them on the side table next to her. I picked them up and scanned them because the timetable summary on top caught my eye.
“Shit.” Ellie dug in the tote again. “Sorry, this stack.”
I reached across my wife to intercept the handoff. I tucked the travel information under the new pile.
There were multiple photos of Adelmo Conti’s murder scene. The car he’d been driving had been t-boned in an intersection. It would have been ruled an accident except for the bullet holes in his chest and between his eyes. Messy. How anyone thought I did this was beyond me.
I shuffled through the pages and asked Ringo, “What am I looking at?”
“A set up, that’s what.”
No shit. “Why?”
“Probably because you were poking your nose in where it shouldn’t.” Ringo’s tone was defensive. “And seriously? Dianora?”
I glanced at Allie. Her eyebrow arched with jealousy almost as soon as the name registered. I hurried to add, “She means nothing to me.”
Unfortunately, my wife was not only beautiful, but wise. “Obviously, she’s a part of this mess.”
“But not your concern,” I reminded her.
“Wait, who is he talking about?” Ellie butted in.
Allie’s mouth tightened, as if guarding her secrets like a dragon. I would not enlighten her sister, either.
“The black widow of Tuscany,” Ringo supplied.
Ellie glared at him. “Explain.”
“No.” My single word was a command. Ringo should not and would not discuss business in front of my bride or her twin.
Now, not only Allie’s expression, but his soured.
My wife spoke up. “The other woman.”
“She is not the other woman,” I interjected.
Ellie interrupted. “Does that makes my sister the other one?”
Something in Ellie’s tone gave me pause. Perhaps it was the way her fingers curled at her side.
“You stepped in that one,” Ringo muttered and scratched the back of his neck nervously.
“Not at all.” My denial was ignored.
Allie studied me. “I think I know what’s happening here.”
I hoped not. “My love…” I cautioned her not to betray any secrets.
“No, hear me out, maybe talking through this will help everyone figure out what the heck we’re going to do next.”
“Inside, maybe?” Ringo suggested.
“Yes. Inside,” Loppa agreed. He’d turned a bit gray from the pain. Yet he was the last person to leave the terrace. He followed Ringo with a wary eye.
We gathered around the lightly crackling fireplace that heated the cozy living room on the lower level. Allie took the pages and spread them out across the coffee table. Their grisly nature was a contrast to the delicate china teacups that the chef filled to warm us up.
Allie started as soon as the servant retreated. “Okay. Let’s lay out the timeline, please? How soon after you heard about your father’s deal with Dianora did you travel to Chicago to speak with her brother?”
“The same day.” I studied the occupants to gauge their reactions.
Ellie stared at Ringo. “You’re a mobster?” Her voice was small.
“So’s he.” Ringo jabbed a finger in my direction.
Her eyes widened a little. My wife’s however, did not. This was not news to her despite my best efforts to shield her from the truth. She’d adapted quickly. I admired her ability to compartmentalize. So much so, that I drew her hand to my mouth for a kiss.
Both Ringo and Ellie eyed me with suspicion. They’d taken seats on the chairs instead of the couch where Allie and I sat. Loppa pulled out a chair from the dining area and sat with his eyes on the windows behind Allie and I.
Ringo angled his chair closer to Ellie in such a way that he could cover the hill’s sloping view.
Notably, Ellie moved her chair farther from him.
Undeterred, he shifted the chair again, bringing it an inch closer.
She turned her whole body away from him. Interesting. Their silent argument spoke volumes. The bastard had hurt her, or lied to her. But she wasn’t running from him, yet.
Frustrated, Ellie blurted out, “I don’t fucking believe this. First Johnny, now you two. What are the odds?”
“Considering who our grandfather was?” Allie pointed her question at her twin.
“You’d think the whole world was run by thugs.” Ellie threw one hand out from her tightly crossed body. Even her legs were crossed.
“Thugs? That’s all you think of me?”
Ringo sounded wounded, but he wasn’t. That was sarcasm. I’d lived with him long enough to hear the difference.
Allie cleared her throat, interrupting what her sister was going to fire back at my nemesis… and my best friend.
In the back of my mind, I knew why he took that marker. It wasn’t for the challenge like he claimed. He’d taken it as an excuse to follow me and take out any hitman stupid enough to try to kill me. Our scuffle in the parking lot was just that, a scuffle. One of many we’d had over the years.
My wife carried the conversation. “Okay, since Ellie isn’t up to speed, here goes. His father is a politician.”
“A.K.A. crook, no doubt,” Ellie muttered.
Loppa snorted, then murmured to Firenze, “I think both of them are smart women.”
“What did he call me?” Ellie asked Ringo.
“Smart.” Ringo’s translation quieted her. She twisted to send Loppa a silently mouthed, “Thank you.”
Loppa grinned.
“And he’s trying to increase his hold on the… shall we say, more ingrained elements of non-political power in this country by setting up an arrangement with the Conti family.”
For an outsider, she was astute.
“Arrangement? Try murder.” Ringo’s clarification was not welcome. I held up a hand to silence him but he was having none of it.
“The black widow of Tuscany, my friend.”
Allie’s skin flushed red.
Ellie’s eyes bounced between the three of us. “Wait a minute. By arrangement, you mean marriage? But I thought you two…”
“Precisely.” I waited for the gravity of the situation to clarify in her mind.
Her eyes narrowed on Allie. “Did you know he was a mobster when you said ‘I do?’”
“We didn’t know the marriage was legal.”
Ellie practically screamed out her frustration. “I don’t fucking believe you. My sister, the huge planner, doesn’t know that Vegas weddings are one hundred percent legit?”
Allie set the piece of paper in her hand back onto the table. It was a particularly graphic photo of the front seat of Adelmo’s car. Blood streaked across the seat where one of the bullets missed hitting center mass.
“Let’s start there. Why did you agree to marry someone who could do this?” She pointed directly at the blood splatter on the seat.
Ringo leaned in. “Messy as fuck.”
Ellie squeaked next to him and avoided the photo pile altogether. “Like you could do better?”
He sent her a look that silenced her quickly.
She looked to Allie for guidance. “Can we go home?”
“No.” Allie stood up and turned to stare out the window closest to us. I wanted to grab her and pull her away from the line of fire. Firenze was not as slow.
“Signora Valentini, step away from the window.”
Loppa was on his feet, too. Allie took two steps to the left and then she pointed at Loppa’s chair and ordered him to sit without saying a word.
“Why not, Allie?”
“Because we’re targets now, too. Which is why we need to know how Johnny is involved,” she explained.