And I wasn’t convinced that could—or would—happen.
Chapter Eighteen
Terra
The tables were fixed to the floor, as were the chairs. Scattered about in an offset pattern, their placement made the area seem open and spacious, yet I felt confined. My eyes searched the room nervously. Various inmates were quietly talking to their spouses, friends, sons and daughters. Everyone shared the same melancholy look.
It may have been the absence of hope.
The not knowing.
It was eerie. And I felt sick. “I don’t like it here,” I whispered.
“Believe me.” Michael looked around. “I don’t either.”
I was shaking, but I tried not to show it. I buried my hands in my lap. “Does our time start when we get here, or when he gets here?”
“When he does. At least that’s my guess.”
The door opened, and my father stepped through it. He was wearing the same orange jumpsuit as the other prisoners, but seeing him in it made my stomach convulse. I don’t know what I expected, but this wasn’t it.
The two guards who had accompanied him removed the handcuffs and the leg chains. Our eyes met, and he smiled.
Somehow, I managed to do the same.
He looked like he hadn’t shaved in days, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen him with any whiskers on his face. His hygiene was something he’d always been adamant about.
“I’m going to be sick,” I whispered.
Michael’s hand pressed against my bouncing knee. “Don’t show it. Just keep smiling.”
He shuffled to the table as if the chains were still on his legs. When he got to his chair, he glanced over each shoulder, scoffed at the guards and then sat down.
He looked at me. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you.”
“You should have stayed home.”
“Michael was coming, and I wanted to come, too.”
He shot me a look. “This is no place for a lady.”
He was right. I wasn’t built for it. I was weak and not afraid to admit it. I didn’t want to know that such places even existed, and now that I knew, I didn’t like it.
“We’ve only got thirty minutes.” I reached for his hand. “We shouldn’t argue.”
“Ma’am,” a guard shouted. “Ma’am!”
I looked toward the voice. A bulky man in a tight uniform shot me a glare. “No contact!”
It took every bit of pride and strength I possessed not to cry. I pulled away and lowered my hands to my lap.
Michael cleared his throat. “I fired your attorney.”
“He’d been with the family for twenty years. He’s a good man. A good attorney.”
“He may have been a good attorney for some things, but not for this case,” Michael said. “He wanted to negotiate a plea bargain, and I couldn’t allow it.”
He shrugged. “Accetterò la mia punizione come un uomo.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Papa!”
Michael looked at me.
“He said he’d take his punishment like a man,” I said.
Michael leaned forward. “You’re innocent, and I’m going to spend whatever it costs to defend your case against these pricks.”
“No negotiation. Whatever happens, I’ll accept it like a man.”
“Papa!”
“The punishment?” He looked at me, and then at Michael. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t negotiate with pigs.”
“That’s exactly what a plea bargain is. It’s an agreement,” Michael said. “A favor from the police for your cooperation and plea of guilt.”
My father looked confused. “Cooperation?”
Michael nodded. “Exactly.”
He pulled away from the table and crossed his arms. His face flushed red. Anger seemed to ooze from his every pore. “Tell Frank Gazzone he’ll never see another cent of my fuckin’ money.”
“I pretty much already did,” Michael said dryly. “I’ll have a new attorney soon. I’m looking into a guy right now.”
The tension in his arms relaxed, but his eyes remained thin and focused. “Is he good?”
“They’ll be fucked if I can get him hired,” Michael said. “He won’t put up with an ounce of their bullshit.”
“I’ll pay whatever he needs.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that his accounts had been frozen since the arrest. All my mother had was what little I had in my account. They’d even taken the money in the safe.
“I’ll get it taken care of.”
“No cooperation,” my father said.
“This guy won’t cooperate.”
“But you have to let your attorney defend you,” I said. “You’re innocent.”
He shrugged.
“You’re innocent, right?”
Another shrug. The Italian version of who gives a fuck.
The code of silence that he denied even existed was engrained into his very being. No differently than any other Italian man, my father was prideful. That pride, when combined with being the godfather of the family, made him impossible to reason with.
“You have to give me away at my wedding.”
“If it’s God’s will.”
The thought of him missing my wedding was incomprehensible. My stomach rose into my throat. I closed my eyes. I wanted Michael to fix everything. To make it all go away.
“Five minutes!”
I opened my eyes. The guard with the tight shirt was standing beside me.
“We haven’t been here for thirty minutes, it’s only been—”
He tapped his finger against his watch. “Five minutes.”
As he walked away, my father stood. “Get some sleep. You look tired.”
I fought not to cry. “I will.”
He gave Michael a long look. His eyes were absent of emotion, as if they were searching for an answer. After a moment, Michael returned a sharp nod.
When he walked away, his shuffle was gone, and his stride reflected the same pride he had always possessed. I wasn’t surprised that he didn’t say goodbye, he was an oddly superstitious man. I suspected doing so, at least in his mind, was wrong.
I turned to face Michael. “You can fix this, right?”
He gave me a half-hearted smile and reached for my hand.
You can fix this, right?
Chapter Nineteen
Michael
I pulled Cap’s refrigerator door open. “I’m not telling you, I’m asking you. There’s a difference.”
“You can do whatever you want. You don’t need my blessing to hire him.”
I may not have needed his blessing, but it was what I was after. There was no doubt I could hire Cap’s father to take the case, but doing so would cause some serious problems between us, and I wasn’t willing to sacrifice our friendship for the cause.
I grabbed two bottles of beer. “Beer?”
“Offerin’ me a bottle of my own beer?”
I handed him one of them. “I’m trying to get you to settle down.”
“I ain’t mad,” he said. “Just shocked.”
“Look, I don’t have any other options. None that are good ones, anyway.”
Cap’s father was a well-respected attorney. From some of the stories I’d heard, feared would be a more accurate description. There was one problem, however, and it was significant.
He hadn’t spoken to his father since he got out of the military, and it had been his plan to never speak to him again.
“You tellin’ me you can’t find a fuckin’ attorney in this city?”
“I fired the attorney,” I said. “I told you that already.”
He took a drink of beer. And then another. “And at what point did this become my problem?”
“It’s not your problem. It’s mine, kind of. And the last time I checked, you and I were friends. And when friends are in need, they lean on friends for help.”
“So, you’re leanin’ on me?”
“Goddamn it, Cap. I’m asking you if you’ll talk to him.”
“Don’t think I can do that, Tripp.”
“If you can’t, you can’t.”
He took another drink of beer. “So, where’s that leave us?”
“Leaves me looking for an attorney that’s not going to recommend a plea bargain.”
“Plea bargain?”
I sat down at the kitchen table and hoped Cap would do the same. “That’s why I fired him.”
“Other’n a goddamned idiot, who’d plead guilty to that charge? Fuck, they ain’t even got a body. You and I both know that.”
“And that’s why I need another attorney.”
“So, you gonna call my pop?”
“Nope.”
He sat down. “Why not?”
Cap was more than a friend; for a decade, he had been the only family I’d ever known. “I value our friendship more than that.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means I’m not willing to sacrifice our friendship for any reason. We’ve been to hell and back together, Cap. You’re like a brother to me.”
He glared at me for a few seconds, stood and turned toward the refrigerator. “Goddamn you.”
“What?”
“You tryin’ to make me feel guilty?”
“No.”
“Well, I am.”
“Why’s that?”
“You know why.”
“Grab me one,” I said. “This one’s about gone.”
He sat down and pushed a beer to my side of the table. “Ain’t talked to him in almost two years.”
“I thought we were done talking about that?”
“Fuck you. You started making me feel guilty. You knew what you were doing.”
“Wasn’t my plan.”
He glared at me for a moment, and then took a drink. “Cocksucker.”
“Him or me?”
“Both of ya.”
I chuckled. “What now?”
“I can’t let Agrioli take the rap for this deal. Can’t let you take it either.”
“Me?”
“I can see you takin’ them teeth right to the feds if you had to. ‘Hey, my name’s Tripp, and this jar of teeth is all the evidence you need to know that Agrioli didn’t do it.’”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“I ain’t convinced,” he said.
I wondered just what I would do to save Agrioli from imprisonment. He was my future father-in-law, but he was also the godfather of the family. Losing him would cause everything to crumble at my feet.
If Agrioli remained in prison, someone would have to take over, and my guess was that person would be Sal. Things would undoubtedly change, but how? I grew increasingly uncomfortable trying to decide.
The answer was clear.
I would go to any length to save him.
For a lifetime, I’d yearned for a family. Freeing Agrioli from incarceration would secure my position in the family.
I picked at the label on my bottle of beer and waited for Cap to continue. He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t either. The few times in his life that he’d gone silent, one thing was certain.
He was thinking.
After some time, I looked up. “So, what now?”
“Decided somethin’.”
“You going to enlighten me?”
“Suppose I’m gonna have to,” he said. “Love’s a powerful thing.”
“That’s what you decided?”
“Yep.”
I laughed. “That’s it?”
He shook his head. “If you’d quit interruptin’ me, I’d tell ya.”
“I’m listening.”
“Your love for Terra brought you together with a man you’ve always hated. Granted you kinda patched things up with him beforehand, but now that he’s gonna be your father-in-law, you look at him differently. It’s love. You love the thought of havin’ a family. And that love’s got you tryin’ to protect both of ’em from harm.” He stood, took a few steps and then turned to face me. “And my love for you has me calling a man I thought I’d never talk to again.”
It was as touching a speech as Cap was capable of giving. “Cap, you don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t. But I’m gonna. For you. And for Terra. For Agrioli, too, I suppose. And maybe a little for me.”
“Thank you.”
“Michelle’s gonna be here in a minute. We’re gonna watch that show about them maids, and when we’re done I’m gonna throw her some cock. After that I’ll call my pop.”
“Maids?”
“Devious Maids. It’s as addictive as Oreos.”
“It goes without saying that the sooner the better on this deal.”
“Understood,” he said with a laugh. “But when it comes to me fuckin’, there ain’t nothin’ quick about it. I’ll be a while.”
“Call me when you know something?”
“You got it, boss.”
Cap was a great friend, and having his father as Agrioli’s legal representative would all but assure his release, or so I thought.
Then I had a few things left to do to cover my tracks.
I needed to destroy the murder weapon and dispose of the teeth, or soon I’d be looking for an attorney.
Chapter Twenty
Terra
I was in love with a kind, caring and passionate man. We were engaged to be married. I should have been shopping for a dress, looking at flower arrangements or deciding how to configure the invitations, but I wasn’t.
Instead, I was miserable. Memories of my father being taken away by men armed with machine guns consumed me, and I was incapable of focusing on anything else.
I walked into the living room, sat down at the end of the couch and took a sip of my third cup of coffee.
Michelle paced the floor for a moment, and then stopped. She wagged her finger as if scolding me. “You’ve lived in denial for your entire life.”
She may have been right, but it wasn’t what I had in mind when I asked her to come over and talk.
“You’re not helping,” I said.
“Just trying to be honest. You knew this was going to happen someday. Bosses don’t stay bosses forever. That’s why they have underbosses.”
The point she’d made hit me like a freight train. She was right. My father’s organization may have been prepared for his departure, but I wasn’t.
“He didn’t do it.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Okaaaay.”
I locked eyes with her. “He didn’t.”
“Maybe he didn’t,” she said. “But he’s done something. I’m not saying he deserves to be locked up for this, but sooner or later it catches up with those guys.”
I shot her a look. “Those guys?”
She nodded eagerly. “Criminals.”
Her having labeled my father shocked me, but hearing it was eye-opening. Although I had no proof of his involvement in criminal activities, I had my suspicions. Somehow, I’d spent a lifetime allowing him to err on the side of innocence.
I wrinkled my nose at her nonetheless. “My father’s a criminal now?”
“Your father’s been a criminal for his entire life. Well, maybe not his entire life, but yours for sure. That’s my point. Your head’s been buried in the sand. Look around you, it’s fuckin’ everywhere.”
Sh
e was right, but I couldn’t ackknwledge it. Not with her, and not in life. If I acknowledged it, I would have to accept it. If I accepted it, I would become part of it.
And that was impossible for me to fathom.
“I asked you to come over because I feel sick about this.” I sank a little further in the cushions, and my heart rose a little higher into my throat. “You’re being mean.”
“I’m being real. I’m telling you to get used to it. They say we marry men who remind us of our mothers, but obviously, we don’t.”
I shot her a glare. “What does that mean?”
“Michael,” she said. “He’s just like your father.”
“Excuse me?” I snapped back. The comparison made me cringe. “Michael deals guns legally. You might not like what he does, but it’s legal.” I straightened my posture and glared at her. “Cap works for him, so you’re one to talk.”
“You said your dad already knew Michael. How?”
I hadn’t given it much thought, but after being riddled with reminders of my father’s ill-doings, not knowing what my father and Michael were involved in began to taste bitter.
“I don’t know. What does it matter?”
I didn’t sound very convincing.
She cocked a hip. “Again, denial.”
I offered an unconvincing shrug. “What am I denying?”
She looked down her nose at me. “Everything. That’s my point.”
“What about your dad?” I snapped back. “Huh?”
She cocked her head to the side. “One of these days, I’m sure they’ll come arrest him. Don’t think that it doesn’t bother me. It does.”
“So just like that, you’re okay with it?”
She shrugged but didn’t respond.
“‘One of these days I’m sure they’ll come arrest him,’” I said mockingly. “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
She spit out a laugh, and then sat down. “Bonanno. Colombo. Gambino. Genovese. Lucchese.” She looked at me. “Any of those families have bosses who retired from being a boss?”
“How would I know?”
She turned to face me. “Again, that’s my point. You don’t know. And you don’t know because you want to deny what’s going on. You grew up in a five-million-dollar mansion. We went to a private school. You drive a car that’s worth more than most people’s homes, and you don’t have a job. Neither does your father. The police make forty grand a year, and when they see people like your dad, they get mad. And then they get even.”
The Game Changer Page 10