Nick and Matt had to park ten houses away from the Perrinos’ place with all the family and friends taking up most of the street. It was a slightly uphill grade, so they had to lean forward to get their balance.
Nick sent Julie ahead with the Perrino family to help with the preparations.
“The way I see it,” Matt said, “we go after Zelman with the IRS, using tax evasion as a charge. Get him off the street.”
Nick was shaking his head. “That’ll take too long. He’ll have his lawyers drag it out for months, maybe years.”
Matt chewed a piece of gum with fervor.
Nick scanned their surroundings for anything suspicious. “Do you remember Captain Meadows back at the academy?”
“Sure.”
“Do you remember his favorite saying?”
“Guy had a million of them. You mean, ‘don’t raise your voice, improve your argument?’ That one?”
“No,” Nick said. “When the chips are stacked against you, stop using chips. Change the currency.”
Matt shook his head. “I never understood half the shit that guy said.”
There were two burly men in black suits standing watch on the front porch with their hands folded in front of them, acting innocent, but certainly packing.
As Nick and Matt climbed the steps, one of the guys opened the front door.
“Thanks, Tully,” Nick said. As soon as he stepped into the Perrino home, he was flooded with the smells of marinara sauce, garlic bread, and meatballs.
“Man, I got hungry fast,” Matt said.
There was a table in the front room with trays of lasagna, bowls of salad, and two strawberry cheesecakes on raised stands. People milled around for space, while Nick nodded to the same people he’d seen at the funeral. By the time they’d reached the kitchen, Angela had an apron around her black dress and look of contentment on her face. Finally she was in her element doing something productive, momentarily taking her mind off the gaping hole in her life.
What Nick didn’t see were the men. That concerned him.
“Stay here,” Matt said, reading his mind. “I’ll find them.”
Nick went over to Cara who was texting on her phone until she sensed him approach.
“You get anything to eat?” Cara asked him.
“I don’t have much of an appetite right now.”
“Then there’s less Sicilian blood in that body than I thought.”
Nick looked at her phone hanging by her side. “You once wrote a story about cryptocurrency and the drug trade. I’m sure you still have contacts from that investigation, right?”
Cara looked down at her phone with a guilty expression. “You really didn’t expect me to bury my father and go home, did you?”
“No,” he said. “Where’s Tommy?”
Cara half-shrugged. “Not sure.”
Nick looked at her sideways, not believing her, yet not willing to pry.
Julie chopped romaine lettuce on a nearby counter and Nick went over to put an arm around his wife. “How you holding up?” he asked.
“I’d be better if people weren’t firing rocket launchers in my direction.”
Nick gently took her chin to face him. “If someone tried to fly by jumping off a building, is that considered flying? Just because someone tries something doesn’t make it real.”
“Well that rocket launcher looked real to me.”
“Honey, nobody fired a rocket launcher. They tried, but they failed. And ended up just like the building jumper. Same result.”
“You are a master at making everything seem so innocuous. Someone tries to kidnap Tommy, but they get caught last minute. No problem. Someone tries to kill us at a funeral, but they’re stopped just in time. Big deal. Face it, Nick, we are targets.”
Nick had to frown at that one. He brushed a hair away from her face, then kissed her forehead. “I will get you and Thomas under 24-hour security. Until this is over, you will be safe. I promise.”
Julie went back to chopping the romaine with a purpose. “I hate when you bring your work home with you.”
“I love you, Sweetie,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen.”
She dropped the knife, paused for a moment, then fell into his arms, letting the anguish seep onto his shoulder where it belonged. Nick felt her tremors and knew his timeline needed to be accelerated. He rubbed her back and whispered soft tones of encouragement.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m normally stronger than this.” She pulled her head back and looked over Nick’s shoulder. “And where is Tommy?”
“I’m sure he’s on his way.”
Julie wiped her face, then returned to the cutting board and got busy with her knife again. Nick bent down and kissed her on the cheek. He knew when to stop the rosy-picture train and peel back. Sometimes silence was the best option.
There was a cutting board next to the sink with a pile of ground beef on it, so Nick pulled up his sleeves and washed his hands. Angela was standing over the stove rotating a pan of rice balls with metal tongs while the hot oil sizzled and occasionally spit up at her.
Nick wiped his hands, then took a handful of rice mixture from a bowl and molded it into a half-circle in his left hand.
“You remember how to make arancini?” Angela said over her shoulder.
Nick grinned. “Been a while, hasn’t it?”
He took the mixture of ground beef and peas and placed a small amount into the middle of the rice, then grabbed another hand full of rice with his right hand and created a ball-shaped treat. The trick was always in the correct egg mixture incorporated into the rice. That’s what kept the rice in a ball. And nobody did that better than Angela.
Nick placed a rice ball into the pan, while Angela pulled out a cooked one with the tongs and placed it on a paper towel. The smell of fried arancini permeated the kitchen.
“Please,” Nick said in a low voice. “Let me do my job.”
Angela kept turning the rice balls to fry the uncooked portion. “By the book?”
Nick sighed. “I can’t sit by and allow your men to go murder some Chechens. I’ll be forced to arrest them.”
“Then I don’t see how we can work together on this. You have your agenda and I have mine.”
“Angela, we need to be smart. I can protect your family.”
Angela turned now and pointed the greasy tongs at his chest. “Don’t you dare.”
Nick held up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. You know what I mean.”
Angela tapped the tongs onto his shirt once, then turned back to the stove.
“Can I get forty-eight hours?” Nick said, brushing the grease from his shirt.
Angela said nothing.
“After that,” he said, “you can do whatever you want. Just give me the time to do my job without having to attend any more funerals.”
Angela stood there, tending to the rice balls.
“I feel I’ve made a fair offer,” Nick suggested.
“It’s too late,” she said.
“Too late for . . .” Nick looked around, still not seeing any of Angela’s men. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to defend Sal’s dignity.”
Nick came around Angela so he could see her entire face. “Sal never wanted you or Cara involved, and you know it.”
“That’s because he was too proud. He thought females couldn’t handle the pressure. But he was wrong. We’re quite capable of taking care of things ourselves.”
Nick looked over at Cara, who glanced their way with a look of defiance.
Matt poked his head through the doorway and shook his head at Nick.
“Great,” Nick said. “Now I have to take down the Chechens and your men. That’ll make my job easier.”
“Remember who started all of this,” Angela said. “Don’t ever lose sight of that.”
Nick wiped his hands on Angela’s apron, then went over to Julie and whispered, “I’m leaving. I’ll have Carl stop by to take you to the Embassy Suites.”
“It’s okay. Angela invited me to spend the night.”
Nick looked around at Cara, Angela, and Julie. The women ganging up on him.
“Thomas is staying with the Harwicks,” she added. “He’ll bunk with Jeffrey. I already spoke with him. He’s excited.”
Nick blew out a breath. He would have the resident FBI agent guard their next-door neighbor’s house just as a precaution. Even though their home was merely ninety minutes away up in the mountains of Payson, Nick suddenly felt like it was on the other side of the country.
He gave Julie a peck on the cheek. “Okay. I’ll swing by and see you tonight.”
Nick motioned to Matt, and they made their way past the lasagna and garlic bread until they were outside, past the remaining men from Angela’s crew. Nick walked across the grass toward a row of thick oleander bushes and away from prying ears.
“They left twenty minutes ago,” Matt said.
Nick scanned their surroundings. The Phoenix suburb was full of tall trees and manicured lawns. One of Sal’s best qualities, blending in with middle class.
“They couldn’t possibly be going to the airport hangar, could they?” Nick asked.
Matt had a far-off gaze. “Who knows what they’re thinking?”
Nick pulled out his phone, pressed a button and put it to his ear.
“Who are you calling?”
“Lloyd Thiel.”
Matt nodded, recognizing the name of the Special Agent in Charge of the FBI office in Phoenix.
“Yeah, Nick,” Lloyd answered.
“Anything?”
“Nada. We’ve scoured surveillance footage from a mile radius around each of the Perrino murder scenes and came up empty. Nor do we have any physical evidence.”
“What about witnesses?”
“Nothing.”
Nick watched the sun heading lower in the sky, along with his chance to do things the professional way.
When Nick kept silent for almost thirty seconds, Lloyd felt compelled to fill in the dead space.
“Listen, Nick,” Lloyd said. “I know the pressure you’re under over there. You get me a witness and I’ll round them up. We’ll do whatever it takes to get these guys.”
What Lloyd didn’t say was, “We’ll bend the law to achieve our desired results.” This wasn’t his fight and no matter their shared history together, Lloyd wasn’t about to lose his job over two warring mobsters.
Nick’s phone vibrated and he saw it was a Facetime call from his neighbor.
“I’ve got my son calling me,” he said. “Keep me posted.”
He pushed the video display button and his neighbor’s face came on the screen with panic-stricken eyes. “I’m so sorry,” Sheila Harwick said. “I haven’t been paying attention to the news.”
Nick’s grip became tighter around his phone. “What’s going on, Sheila? Where’s Thomas?”
“He’s right here,” Sheila said with a tremble in her voice. Then she seemed to force a smile so Thomas wouldn’t detect anything wrong. “Maybe I should have him tell you how his day went.”
A moment later Thomas’s smiling face came onto the screen. “Dad!” the youngster shouted. “Guess what I got today?”
Nick grinned, trying his best to act calm for his boy. “Tell me, buddy.”
Sheila Harwick was encouraging Thomas, finding a relaxed temperament to show him everything was normal. But Nick knew there was nothing normal. Especially the way the phone shook in Sheila’s hand.
Matt was next to him watching with extreme interest.
“Look,” Thomas said, holding up a baseball for his father to see. “A man gave this to me at the park today.”
“That’s great,” Nick said, searching for the bombshell he knew was coming. “Did you know this man?”
Thomas was looking up at Sheila now, listening to her give him instructions.
“Oh, yeah,” Thomas said, twisting the ball so Nick could see the back side. “I forgot. Look at this cool flag.”
Nick’s throat tightened as a green and red flag became clear on the screen.
Matt said, “Shit,” then covered his mouth.
“What?” Thomas asked as innocent and pure as a puppy.
“That’s really cool, buddy.”
The screen switched back to Sheila’s face, full of regret. “We didn’t know it was the Chechen flag until we got home and checked online, right, Thomas? Isn’t that interesting?”
“Yeah,” Thomas exclaimed with excitement in his voice. “Do you know where Chechnya is, Dad?”
Nick tried to remain calm, but his heart pounded like a sledgehammer, remembering that he’d forgotten to take his pills with him. “Yes, I do.”
“Have you ever been there?”
“Yes. It’s a beautiful country,” Nick said. Then added, “Thomas, could you please find your toothbrush and show it to me? I want to be sure we packed the right one.”
Thomas looked confused for a moment, until Sheila persuaded him to go to the bathroom to get his toothbrush.
As soon as Thomas was gone, Nick said, “There will be an FBI agent at your door within thirty minutes. His name is Ken Chang. He’s Asian with a scar under his left eye. He will show you his ID and describe how the protection package works. He’ll sleep on the couch in the front room and be with you wherever you go. Understand?”
Sheila nodded with swollen eyes.
Thomas came back, holding up a toothbrush to the phone. “Is this it, Dad?”
“Yeah, that’s it, buddy,” Nick said. “Hey, remember my friend from work, Ken? He’s having his house painted so he’s going to stay with you guys for a couple of days. Okay?”
“What color?”
“I think he’s painting it tan.”
Thomas seemed agnostic to the color choice.
“Does that work, buddy?”
Thomas smiled. “Yeah, Dad. I like him. He’s nice.”
“Yeah, he’s real nice. But this is just for a couple of days until his house is done. Then he’ll be going home again.”
“Okay,” Thomas said. “Hey Dad, when are you and mom coming home?”
“Soon, buddy. I just need to finish my work first. Maybe a couple of days. Okay?”
“When you come home, can we throw the baseball?”
Nick’s heart fell a notch. His son missed him and throwing a baseball was just a symptom of that yearning to see his father. Nick took a couple of steps farther from the house, his voice cracking as he said, “I will spend the entire day with you playing in the park. We’ll throw the baseball, shoot baskets, whatever you want. Okay?”
Thomas’s face brightened. “Yeah!”
When Nick finally hung up, he called Ken Chang, the resident FBI agent in Payson and explained the situation.
“You want me to get Rick to send over a couple of bodies for some outdoor surveillance?” Ken said, talking about the local sheriff.
“Yes,” Nick said. “Tell him I’ll need twenty-four-hour security for the next couple of days.”
“You sound confident about your timeline. You sure you’ll be done by then?”
Nick looked back at the house with the two bodyguards standing patrol on the porch, their eyes screaming for someone to shoot. Italy versus Chechnya. He would’ve felt better if it were just a soccer match. “To be honest,” Nick said. “I haven’t the slightest idea how this is going to end. I just know it’ll be quick.”
He put his phone back into his pocket and came over to Matt with a scowl. “It’s time to take the gloves off.”