Chapter 36
SOFIA
My heart is beating so fast, I’m worried that it’s going to come unglued from my chest. Wouldn’t that be ironic, if I die of a heart attack while waiting for Frankie to rescue me?
I’m surprised Mr. Harlan has given me the opportunity to phone a friend.
He could have just shot me, but that’s obviously not what he has in mind.
I’m not sure how I could have been so blind.
Not only is my former boss working for Andretti, but he is waist-deep in whatever criminal action the two of them have planned.
In my wildest dreams, I only imagined that Harlan was a frontman.
I assumed that he wrote nice copy to whitewash whatever Andretti was up to.
It looks like I was wrong about that. I can’t tell how deep Mr. Harlan’s ties to the mob run, but the more he talks, the clearer my understanding becomes.
“You just had to keep poking,” Harlan says. He waves a gun at me, awkwardly pacing in my tiny apartment.
There’s not much room between the kitchen and the living room, and he takes up more space than usual. Maybe it’s the gun in his hand, or the way he hates me. I never got this kind of vibe from him before. I guess he’s as good a liar as he is an editor.
“You put some kind of virus in my computer,” Harlan concludes.
“It wasn’t a virus,” I say.
“Then what was it?” he demands.
“I just wanted to know what happened to Danny!” I shout. I’m through playing the coward. If these are my last moments, I want answers.
“You want to know what happened to him?” Mr. Harlan taunts.
“Yes!” I respond.
“I killed him!” Harlan tells me with glee. “I shot him right in his own living room, and damn, it was easy. He had no clue that I was going to do that to him until the last moment.”
I swallow my anger as a rush of grief washes over me. I must sit down, even though I’m still in danger. My legs give way, and I drop to the sofa. After all the time I’ve spent chasing my brother’s killer, to know that he was right there all along is devastating.
“Why?” I whisper.
Harlan comes down on one knee before me, happy to tell his story now that he's going to kill me, there’s no need to hold back.
“He was investigating my partner, Carlo Andretti,” Harlan says.
“I couldn’t allow him to do that. He was getting too close and collecting too much evidence to allow him to continue. ”
I press my eyes shut, wishing I could block out all the vicious energy Mr. Harlan is giving off.
He’s like some kind of evil battery, humming with delight over something that should make him sick.
Regular people don’t get so excited confessing their heinous crimes.
Regular people feel guilt or remorse when they’ve done something wrong.
But not Harlan. He’s ecstatic. It’s like he wants me to know how much fun it was ending my brother’s life.
I think I’m going to be sick. I put one hand over my mouth and lurch for the bathroom. Harlan watches me go, still laughing.
“Keep the bathroom door open,” he instructs.
I do as he asks, leaving the door wide open as I fold myself over the toilet bowl.
I haven’t eaten much today, but what little I was able to consume burns on the way up.
I heave until my stomach quiets, and my heartbeat slows incrementally.
I’m not out of the water, but I feel a little lighter.
I rise to my feet on wobbly legs and turn on the sink.
Swishing my mouth out with water, I try to define my next steps.
Frankie should be on his way. I feel bad for reaching out to him and dragging him into my private hell. It couldn’t be helped. Mr. Harlan demanded that I call everyone responsible over to the apartment. He wants to kill us all in one blow.
I didn’t mention Frankie’s Uncle Gio, he scares me, and I don’t want to get on his bad side.
Harlan doesn’t realize it was more than just me and my ex-boyfriend who planted the bug on his computer.
Obviously, Frankie is in on it, but there’s no way I’m giving anyone else up when they might be able to help us.
Hopefully, Frankie told someone what is going on.
“I knew something was up when you said that Frankie Corello confessed,” Harlan observes from the living room. “But I just had to see the confession for myself. That was my mistake.”
I inhale and exhale sharply, holding my tongue. I want to strangle him. I want to go into my kitchen, get out a frying pan and beat him to death. Of course, I can’t do either of those things, but the anger changes me. I’m not afraid anymore, I’m pissed.
“Tell me how you did it,” I demand.
“You really want to know?” he teases me, his lips curling into an ugly smile.
“Yes,” I confirm, stepping out of the bathroom as if I’m ready to go into battle.
He sees that something has changed, but that doesn’t cause him to change his tactics at all.
He still thinks that he has the upper hand.
I’m thinking less about escaping and more about making him pay, even though he’s the one with the gun.
I don’t even care if Frankie comes to rescue me.
This is where I’ve been headed all along.
I’m finally alone with my brother’s killer and if I can’t make him pay, at least I can catch a glimpse of Danny’s last minutes.
“He was just like you,” Harlan says, waving the gun at me. “He told me everything, thinking that I was on his side.”
“How long have you been on Andretti’s payroll?” I accuse.
“We’ll get to that,” Harlan promises. “But I want you to know exactly what he said before he died.”
I press my eyes shut for a moment. I thought I was ready for this, but it turns out that I’m not. My stomach protests again, and I nearly have to go back into the bathroom. But I fight through it, knowing that this might be the last chance to hear Harlan’s confession.
I wish I had my phone with me so that I could record what he’s saying.
But he’s thought of that already. My phone is in his pocket, where he put it after he forced me to call Frankie.
I may have justice on my side, but I’m unarmed and he’s staring right at me.
I can’t get a weapon, and I can’t access my phone.
All I can do is keep him talking, and hope that a solution presents itself.
“He opened the door for me when I came over to talk,” Mr. Harlan continues. “Stupid kid didn’t even know what hit him.”
I see Danny’s body in my mind’s eye, just as I found him. He was lying on his couch, the gun on the floor beside him. I must focus on remaining in the present, knowing that I’m about to suffer the same fate if I can’t figure out a way to break free.
“I pretended like I was just there to exchange information,” Harlan says.
“And he bought it, hook, line, and sinker.” Harlan laughs, remembering how he tricked my brother into talking about the story.
“He explained everything that he learned about Andretti and even said that he suspected someone at the paper was working for the mob. Of course, when I told him it was me, he tried to get away.”
This last part is excruciating to hear. My fingers go numb as the words float through the air. I can barely listen to Harlan as he describes pulling the trigger.
“I honestly wasn’t expecting that much blood,” Harlan remembers with a laugh.
“You’re going to pay,” I swear. I’m beyond caring about myself at this point.
I just want to see Harlan go down for murder.
He’s the most vicious person I’ve ever met, capable of disguising himself as a sheep.
I have to find a way to stop him, or he’s just going to continue his rampage, leaving who knows how many more people dead as a result.
The door bangs open suddenly, scaring both of us. Harlan swings the gun away from me, and I take my chance. I launch myself into the air, scrambling onto his back. He clocks me with his elbow, and I drop to the floor.
Frankie rushes to my side, bending down to make sure I’m all right.
I feel his hand grasp mine, warm and strong.
I don’t know whether to be happy he’s arrived or to be upset.
He’s going to die along with me if I can’t figure out how to escape.
Apparently, I’m not good in a fight. It didn’t take Harlan more than three seconds to neutralize me, and now he knows to watch out.
Harlan goes to the door to close it. He doesn’t want any witnesses.
I’m grateful there are no innocent bystanders around for him to shoot.
At least Frankie and I have some skin in the game.
I would hate to be responsible for another tragic death just because some good Samaritan was trying to help.
Then again, if the Samaritan happened to have a phone and could call the police, that might be helpful.
I’m reminded of the police on Andretti’s payroll, and reconsider. Maybe it’s best that we can’t alert the authorities just yet.
I glance up at Frankie, giving him a grateful smile as he helps me to my feet. He looks worried, but not afraid. I wonder if he’s been in a similar situation before. I don’t really know how extensive his involvement with the mafia is. Maybe this kind of thing is run-of-the-mill for him.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Are you all right?” he asks, concerned.
“I’m fine,” I assert, even though I’m clearly not. I’ve just been subjected to a vivid description of my brother’s murder. How could I be fine?
“Hey, lovebirds,” Harlan snaps.
“If you touch her again, I swear I’ll kill you,” Frankie growls.
“That would be difficult,” Harlan sneers, “Considering that I’m the one with the gun.”
“What do you want?” Frankie demands, putting himself between me and my former boss.
“What do you think I want?” Harlan snaps. “I’m going to bury the two of you and get back to business as usual.”
“You know you can’t do that,” Frankie insists.
“Why not?” Harlan asks.
“My father will never stop hunting you,” Frankie threatens. “And if you’re working for Andretti, you already know everything about their feud. This is personal, and you’re making it a lot more personal.”
“I know more than you think I do,” Harlan says. “I know about your tramp of a stepmother and how she bagged a mafia don as her husband.”
Frankie surges toward Harlan, but I grab him and hold him back. I don’t want to see him killed right in front of me. I’m hanging on by a thread as it is, and that would be horrific. I agree that we need to find a way to fight back against Harlan, but this isn’t it.
Harlan laughs. He waves the gun toward the couch, indicating that we should take a seat. Frankie grunts at him in a language that only men can understand. But he follows directions reluctantly, taking me by the hand and leading me to the couch.
Once we’re seated, Frankie puts a protective arm around me.
I sink into his embrace, allowing myself to take some small comfort from his presence.
We’re in this together. Either we find a way out, or we’ll die as one.
I don’t want Frankie to be in trouble, but I have to admit, I feel safer now that he’s here.
If anyone can think of a way to escape, I’m sure it’s Frankie.
I just must give him time to work his magic.
I’m sure he’s been in tons of untenable situations before.
This is just a regular Tuesday for him, and I don’t need to worry.
I close my eyes, giving myself permission to rely on someone else for a change. The situation seems hopeless, but there’s always a silver lining. I just must trust that Frankie will know how to find it.