The pathway through the cornfield, to the Bowmans’ house and barn, was familiar. The last people to rent the house had been an Amish family, and Katie attended services multiple times in their barn and in the house.
Hidden in the cornstalks, she felt protected for the moment. Her cousins wouldn’t know their way around a cornfield or a barn, for that matter. Their world consisted of dark alleys, smoky clubs, and the warehouses off Mayfield Road. Most of them had never even been outside of Cleveland.
Katie smiled. They must be going crazy out here in the country. No alcohol and certainly no girls swooning over them. Just endless trees and corn and fields of cows and other livestock. The men were probably more afraid of a bull than they were of meeting a Puglisi gunman.
At the edge of the cornfield, she paused at the forest that led to the back of the Bowmans’ barn. If Rollin were still here, she was certain she would find him close to the barn, and she would convince him to come back to the Lehmans’ before the men started shooting at him again.
When she stepped into the forest, someone wrapped their arms around her and yanked her back into the corn. She opened her mouth to scream, but the man covered her mouth with his hand. Eggs rolled out of the basket, cracking around her feet, and she struggled against him. When he wouldn’t let go, she clamped her teeth into his skin.
He swore as he pulled his hand away from her, and she whirled around on her heels, the basket above her head, ready to swing. She expected to see Nico or one of the other men, but instead, she saw Rollin Wells.
She dropped the basket.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded as she pulled away from Rollin’s hold. He didn’t fight her.
He rubbed his thumb across his palm. “Be quiet, Katie.”
“What are you doing?” she repeated, this time in a whisper.
He met her eyes, the blue blazing in them. “Right now, I’m trying to keep both of us from getting killed.”
She huffed, stomping her foot. An eggshell cracked under her heel, the yolk sliming across her toes into the dirt. She slid her foot back, wiping it off in the dirt.
He eyed the egg yolk mixing with the dirt. “I could have eaten those.”
“You’re that hungry?”
“I will be in about an hour. There’s not a lot to eat out here.”
“Yes, there is, but you have to know where to look.”
“Neither tree bark nor leaves sounded appetizing to me.”
Sighing, she leaned down to the basket and picked through the broken shells and muck until she found the package of Ruth’s cookies and lifted it out. She held it out to Rollin. “You might enjoy these a little more than tree bark.”
He slipped farther back into the corn, and she followed him through the stalks. When he stopped again, he quickly unwrapped the twine around the paper. He inhaled the cookies almost as fast as Henry did whenever they visited Ruth.
She inched closer to him. “What are you looking for out here?”
He looked deep in her eyes, like he was trying to understand her question.
“Are you trying to find the Cardano men, or are you searching for something else?”
“Of course I’m trying to find the Cardano men.” He paused, examining her face again. “How do you know about the Cardanos?”
“Oh, Rollin,” she said with a sigh. “There is much you don’t understand.”
He hesitated and then reached for her hand, the strength in his fingers reviving her. She led him away from the Bowmans’ barn and the forest, to the north side of the cornfield. There was a small watering pond at the end of the Yoders’ property, and they sat on a log someone had propped beside it to use for a bench.
Rollin waited for a moment before he spoke again. “Who are you, Katie Lehman?”
She shoved her toes through the muddy ground, and the black oozed between them. ‘It’s a long story.”
“Why don’t you start with how you know about the Cardano family?”
“The Cardanos,” she began, her tongue burning even as she said the word. She didn’t want to tell Rollin anything about her or her past, but he was too close to the story. He deserved to know part of the truth.
“I know about the Cardanos”—she took a deep breath—“because they are my family.”
His jaw dropped so far, and for so long, that she nudged it back up with her fingertips. His eyes were frozen on her face, like he was searching for even more answers without asking the questions.
“Which Cardano?” he finally asked.
She held out her hand to him.
“My name is Nicola Cardano,” she said as she gently shook his hand. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Nikki?” His eyes grew larger. “Liz’s baby sister?”
She cringed. “I’m not a baby anymore.”
“No, you’re not,” he said without even a hint of a smile. He rubbed his hands together, looking back over the small pond. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“That’s what they wanted everyone to believe.”
He turned to her again, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “And Liz?”
She dropped her gaze. “They murdered her.”
He looked at the water, and she knew her words were like dropping a bomb on Rollin’s head. He’d been told Liz was dead, but since he’d never seen her body, a thread of hope probably remained that she might still be alive. That someone had hidden Liz away as well.
“How did she die?” Rollin whispered.
She pulled her legs close to her, the mud chilling her toes. “Several of them had guns that night.”
“They shot her…” His voice trailed off.
Dark memories from her last night in Cleveland flooded back to Katie. The guns pointed at her and Liz. The terrible sound of the gun firing. She’d kicked off her shoes and run all the way home to her mother, thinking her mother could make the men stop.
Salvatore didn’t know Nikki was hiding in the house when he stomped through the front door with Liz in his arms. He didn’t know Celeste already knew about her oldest daughter’s death.
Her mother sobbed over Liz’s body even while Nikki waited for her signal to run. After Celeste turned the kitchen stove on high, Nikki and Henry ran out into the dark night. She’d been running up the hill behind their house, Henry in her arms, when she saw the first flames light the back windows. Salvatore thought Celeste agreed to set the fire to hide the cause of Liz’s death, but her mother wasn’t trying to protect her husband. She was trying to protect Nikki and Henry.
She’d known her father’s men would search for her all over the snow-covered Murray Hill, so she didn’t stop running until she got to the bus station. And she watched every man on the bus intently, wondering if one of them would follow her to her aunt and uncle’s home in Sugarcreek. But no one had followed her. She and Henry escaped from Cleveland, and she only returned in her dreams.
“Did they try to kill you too?” he asked.
She nodded, fresh tears wetting her eyelashes and her cheeks. “Liz shouted for me to run. She took the bullet for me.”
“I don’t understand why…”
“They were meeting about a new partnership so they could get a monopoly on the corn sugar business. Someone was with them. Someone we shouldn’t have seen.”
“Who did you see?”
She shook her head, twisting her hands in her lap.
When Rollin looked at her again, the steely blue in his eyes had softened. “You don’t have to be afraid of them anymore.”
“Yes, I do.”
“As soon as I find out what’s going on, I’ll stop them from hurting you or anyone else.”
“By yourself?” She didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic, but it would be impossible for Rollin to fight them alone.
“No,” he said, but the strength drained from his retort. “My police captain will help us bust this ring.”
“What’s your captain’s name?”
“Heyward Malloy.”
A bitter laugh burned her throat. The surprise on Heyward Malloy’s face when he saw her and Liz was seared in her mind. And the smirk on his face as he pulled out his pistol. She didn’t know if he’d been the first to pull the trigger—it could have been one of her uncles. She just didn’t believe Antonio or her father shot Liz. Couldn’t allow herself to believe it.
“Is that funny?” Rollin asked.
Once again, she was backed into a corner. “My uncles were at Mangiamo’s that night. And Antonio. And so was Heyward Malloy.”
*
Heyward was there.
The words pierced Rollin’s mind, and he shook his head like he could relieve their sting.
Heyward Malloy was there the night Liz was murdered, meeting with the Cardanos.
For years, he’d trusted Malloy. Admired him for his courage against the strongholds in their city and for his tenacity to bring down the crime families in Cleveland. But the whole time, Malloy was scheming with the Cardanos instead of fighting them.
Every time Rollin thought he was getting close to exposing the Cardano family, every time he thought for certain he had the evidence to stop them, something would happen to botch his plans. If Katie was right, no wonder his plans failed over and over. He’d probably been channeling information to the enemy ever since he became a detective.
He stood up, and mud and water slogged against his shoes and pant legs as he paced. Katie had deceived him for the past four days. She could be lying to him again, but why would she deceive him about Malloy? It didn’t make sense.
He glanced back over his shoulder at Katie. If she dressed in a fancy chiffon dress and trimmed her hair, she would look exactly like her older sister. It was strange, but he didn’t remember Nikki Cardano looking like Liz. All he remembered was a lanky girl, tromping through the pristine Cardano mansion in her braids and bare feet.
He remembered her bare feet and the fact that she’d been a constant nuisance to him and to Liz. It seemed whenever they were finally alone in the sitting room, Nikki would bound through the door to offer them tea and scones as if she were serving the President and First Lady. He hadn’t wanted scones and neither had Liz.
Nikki’s demeanor had calmed since she left Cleveland. And her beauty had blossomed.
Was it life in the Amish community that sobered her, or the reality of watching her sister die?
He looked back at her again, and Katie’s bare toes raked through the mud again. Maybe she hadn’t grown up as much as he thought. Perhaps under the weight of her bonnet and apron was a woman who still savored the joys of childhood. She’d never be completely carefree again—the cares of the world had followed her into one of the most peaceful places in the world. But, in his mind, he could still see the lively girl who wanted to be at her sister’s side.
No wonder Katie hadn’t welcomed him into their community. She’d known who he was from the moment they found him collapsed in the Yoders’ barn. She’d known who he was, but she didn’t know to whom he answered.
He moved back toward her.
“Heyward Malloy…” he started. “Malloy was one of the city’s top detectives in 1919.”
She nodded, the sunlight shimmering the gold specks in her eyes. “How do you think he knew so much?”
“Because he was a good investigator.”
“Because my father paid him well to help take down the Puglisis.”
“Salvatore fed him information?”
“By the truckload,” she said. “Back when he used to work with the Puglisis.”
He sat beside her, searching her eyes for her motivation. For the truth. “But how do you know?”
“Before I ran away, my mother told me what was happening.”
“But after you left,” he refuted, “Malloy gathered enough evidence to take down Salvatore.”
“Did he succeed?”
He shook his head. “The jury found your father not guilty in spite of the evidence.”
“A nice ruse, don’t you think? Taking the Cardanos to court.” She fidgeted with her apron. “No one would ever guess Heyward was on the Cardano payroll.”
“Maybe he got off the payroll after you left Cleveland.”
“He knew too much to get off the payroll.”
The consequence for jilting the Cardanos would be fatal.
“Did Heyward help pick the jury that heard my father’s case?”
“I suppose so.”
“Then he did his job well.”
Rollin leaned over and cupped his chin in his hands. He’d sat in the courtroom during Salvatore Cardano’s trial, three rows behind Malloy. He’d been so proud of his boss during the proceedings. The evidence about Cardano’s illegal business dealings seemed to be irrefutable with Malloy’s delivery of detailed records and reputable witnesses. During the trial, his admiration for Malloy grew stronger along with his hatred for the Cardano family.
The suspicious fire at the Cardanos’ home, along with his daughters’ deaths, were mentioned during the session, but it was only mentioned, along with the subsequent murders of Salvatore’s two brothers. Most people assumed the Puglisis killed the brothers. No one had the evidence to convict anyone for murder, and Rollin guessed the man who examined Liz’s body was on the Cardano payroll.
The trial judge was an upstanding man, though, and Rollin had hoped the jury members were as well. He, along with most of the gallery, was shocked with the not guilty verdict.
Had the Cardanos really handed the evidence to Malloy with the assurance of an amiable jury? His arresting Salvatore would certainly up his credibility with the Puglisi family, and it would have erased any question of him working for or with the Cardanos.
Rollin had seen the smirk on Salvatore Cardano’s face right after the judge said not guilty. Like he already knew what the judge would say. With pressure from the mayor, Malloy and the prosecutor opted not to appeal. Even with the evidence, the mayor said, the Cardanos could easily buy the jury at any level. He didn’t want to spend the city’s time or money on another defeat. Instead, he wanted more evidence, even stronger evidence against the Cardanos before they went to trial again.
At the end of the trial, Cardano’s organization ballooned. His distributors—and the justice system—realized that Salvatore was unstoppable and untouchable. If he could weasel his way out of a trial stacked with evidence proving his guilt, he could get out of anything.
Not only could Malloy have convinced a jury to release Salvatore Cardano, he could have arrested Leone Puglisi last year specifically to stop the Puglisis’ advance in the corn sugar industry. When Puglisi’s conviction and short jail sentence didn’t stop the growth of the Puglisi’s business, the Cardanos chose to shoot him instead.
Rollin sat down on the log again. “Malloy was the one who asked me to join the police force.”
“Did he hire you to stop the Cardanos?”
“At the request of the mayor,” he said, “Malloy was putting together a division to fight the different factions of bootleggers and distributors. Malloy knew some of my history with your family, and he assigned me to track what they were doing.”
“I’m guessing he paid particularly close attention to your findings.”
Rollin nodded. “I thought he was seeking vengeance after he lost his case against Salvatore.”
She finished his thought. “When really he was making sure you didn’t find out too much…”
He thumped the tops of his legs with his fists. How could he have been so stupid? “The entire time, he’s been steering me the wrong direction.”
“Don’t feel bad, Rollin. Heyward Malloy played all of us.”
Anger boiled inside him. “Malloy told the other cops that Lance and I are in Florida. Before we came here, Malloy steered us to a librarian to find out where Sugarcreek was located. Apparently he wanted us to come here so he could kill us.”
“Which means you’re close to finding something the Cardanos want to keep hidden.”
He looked
back toward the cornfield. He couldn’t see the trees beyond the corn or the barn, but something big was happening back there. Something that would expose the Cardanos and perhaps even Malloy.
Standing again, he reached for her hand and helped her up. “I’ve got to go back to the barn.”
“Not now, Rollin,” she said, releasing his hand.
He thought of the men scouring the forest for him and he agreed. He would have to come back later. Tonight.
She motioned him toward the Yoders’ farm, and he followed her.
He pushed aside a cornstalk. “I attended your funeral.”
She stopped, turning back to him. “My funeral?”
“They said they found your body in the fire as well.”
“My funeral…” she repeated. “What was it like?”
“They held it at Holy Rosary,” he said. “Hundreds of people were there, crying for you and Liz, and there were so many flowers that it took four cars to deliver them to the funeral.”
“I wonder what they put on my tombstone.” Her eyes caught the sunlight again, but this time they were sad.
“I don’t know. Your father only allowed immediate family to attend the burial.”
“Even my father told people I was dead…”
“He probably did it to protect you, Katie. So Malloy and the others would stop searching for you.”
“Or to protect himself,” she said. “If they thought my father was willing to kill his own daughter for them, they would trust him to keep their secrets.”
They emerged from the field, stepping into the Yoders’ yard together. Chickens clucked in the coop beside them, and the sun dipped toward the horizon, cooling the air.
Katie deserved to have someone to protect her, someone willing to die for her. She believed her father was willing to sacrifice her in order to shore up his kingdom. The sad thing was, he couldn’t protest it.
“The papers all said you were dead.”
“Thank God for that.”
“It’s strange, though,” he said as they walked toward Ruth’s house. “I don’t remember anyone ever mentioning Henry.”
“Only my parents and Antonio knew about Henry.”
He quickly did the math in his head. Katie would have been only about fifteen or sixteen when she left Cleveland. And Henry said he was about to turn nine.
The Silent Order Page 17