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Fifty-nine  

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Marco’s phone buzzed incessantly, waking Kate from a deep slumber. She rolled over to look at the clock before nudging Marco.

“Babe. Your phone keeps ringing. You’d better see what’s up.”

Marco moaned as he reached for his phone, squinting to see the number before it stopped ringing.

“That was Eddie. Wonder what he wants?” He sat up. “Jesus. Tau and Dario called. Sal too. Something’s going on.”

“You’d better call,” she said.

Marco climbed out of bed, pulled on some sweats and dialed Eddie’s number.

“Eddie, Marco. What’s up? I gotta’ lot of missed calls.”

Kate watched Marco’s face fall, as he looked at her. He ran his hand through his hair and paced.

“Jesus, Eddie. What the hell happened?”

Kate watched him shake his head at her. She sat up and waited for the call to end.

“Marco, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“Micola. She—she died. She was shot yesterday morning.”

“Oh my God! No! What happened? How?”

Marco relayed to Kate the few details he’d received from Eddie.

“He wants me over there. Now. At Micola’s house. I gotta’ go.”

“Of course. You go shower. I’ll fix you some toast and coffee.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

Marco hurried through his shower and breakfast and kissed Kate on his way out the door.

“Keep me posted. I’m worried.”

“I will,” he said. He shut the back door and left.

Kate watched Marco from the kitchen window. He backed the Mustang out of the driveway, as a sickening sense of dread began to flutter in her stomach.