Mancini dropped off Tommy and silently drove away in the Phantom. Before Tommy even reached the curb, he could smell Angela’s lasagna. As he walked up the manicured pathway to the front door, two young boys rolled around the grass in their black suits, wailing haymakers and cursing at each other. Tommy glanced up at the two men guarding the door and said, “Tully, what’s the matter with you?”
Tully shrugged. “It’s good for them. Toughens ‘em up.”
Tommy dropped his manila envelope on the ground, then pulled one of the kids off the one beneath him. When he tossed the boy aside, he said, “You think your grandfather would be happy about this?”
The boy wiped a bloody lip with the back of his hand. “Why not? Pops taught me how to fight.”
“Yeah, but he never wanted you to fight your own cousin,” Tommy said. “He ever talk to you about taking care of each other?”
The boy looked at his cousin who was still on the ground, sitting there, trying to catch his breath.
Tommy pointed to the kid on the ground and said, “Do you know what Pops did to your fathers when they were kids and fighting like this?”
“What?”
“They woke Pops up on a Saturday morning because they were fighting over which cartoon they should watch. So he tied pink ribbons in their hair and made them stand outside the front door of their house, then he went back to bed.”
The boys’ eyes grew large.
Tommy looked up at the porch. “Am I right, Tully?”
Tully nodded. “We never fought ever again. At least not in front of Pops.”
“See,” Tommy said, ruffling up the boy’s hair. “Now, pick up your cousin and move on.”
The boy held out a hand and pulled his cousin to his feet.
Tommy grabbed the manila envelope then walked up the steps to the porch. When he passed Tully, he whispered, “Don’t be a Neanderthal. They’ve got to learn to use their brains before their fists.”
Tully frowned. “You turning liberal on me?”
Tommy rolled his eyes, then went inside and followed the marinara aroma to the kitchen, bumping a couple of male fists along the way. When he got to the stove, he wrapped an arm around Angela’s waist, pecked her cheek, then grabbed a breaded cauliflower sitting on a paper towel and popped it in his mouth.
“Mmm, you still make the best Sicilian cauliflower on the planet.” He looked around and added, “Where’s Jackie?”
Angela kept her attention on the cauliflower splattering in the pan. “He’s somewhere.”
“Uh huh.”
Tommy walked down a long hallway which ended at a closed door. He opened it and found what he expected. Nick and Matt were sitting on Angela and Sal’s bed with Jackie and Eddie standing in the corner of the room. Nick was at the edge of the bed with the phone to his ear, while Matt sat up against the headboard with his feet crossed.
Tommy shut the door and tossed the manila envelope on the dresser, then gave Matt a questioning look.
Nick said, “I understand,” to whoever he was speaking with, then dropped his phone down on the bed.
“Well?” Tommy asked.
Nick looked at his phone and jutted his thumb at Jackie and Eddie. “These two are doing everything they can to make my job harder.”
Tommy looked at the two guys standing there like they were awaiting punishment.
“We needed to send a message,” Jackie said with a little attitude, while Eddie avoided eye contact with anyone in the room.
“You went to Hangar 49, didn’t you?” Tommy said to Jackie.
“We got there as they were peeling out of the parking lot,” Matt said. “A dozen Chechens were ready to start a firefight when they must’ve spotted us.”
Jackie looked at Tommy with defiance. “You’ve been gone too long. You don’t know what’s been happening.” Then his shoulders slumped and he looked down at his shoes. He took a long breath and when he spoke, his voice cracked a bit. “He was my father.”
This hit Tommy like a punch to the nose. His eyes even blurred as the words came out of Jackie’s mouth. He walked over to Jackie and placed a hand on his shoulder, then pulled the guy into a hug.
“I know,” Tommy whispered in his ear.
The room remained still while Tommy and Jackie shared a moment of loss together. After thirty seconds, Tommy patted Jackie on the back and pulled away. He looked over at Nick and said, “Can these guys get out of here?” Tommy asked, trying to ease any penalty they might’ve had coming.
Nick frowned, then waved the back of his hand. “Go.”
Tommy squeezed Jackie’s arm, then winked at Eddie as they left the bedroom. He shut the door and gave his cousin a look. Nothing needed to be said.
Tommy took the manila envelope from the dresser and handed it to Nick.
“What’s this?” Nick asked, bending the metal clasp back and dropping its contents onto the mattress.
“A bunch of stuff you already knew about Zelman. And a few nuggets you probably didn’t know.”
Nick sorted the contents and began reading them. “Where’d you get it?”
“Al Mancini.”
Nick looked up. “Seriously?”
Tommy took out a toothpick and stuck it into his mouth. “Seriously. He feels a sense of loyalty to the Perrinos. He wants to help, but doesn’t want to look too helpful.”
Matt leaned over Nick’s shoulder to glance at Mancini’s documents.
“Angela’s frustrated,” Nick said, shuffling through the collection. “She wants me to cook up some trumped-up charge and put Zelman away somehow.”
Tommy walked over and sat in Sal’s rocking chair, then leaned back with his hands behind his head. “Yeah, well, you know the climate here. You’re inside the damn volcano.”
“Zelman sent someone to Payson,” Matt said. “Put a little scare into Nick’s neighbor.”
“You shittin’ me?” Tommy leaned forward. “Is Thomas okay?”
“He’s fine,” Nick said. “I’ve got it covered.”
“Does Julie know?”
“Another fun conversation I need to have,” Nick said. “Listen, before I forget, I need to tell you something.”
“Yeah.”
“Walt’s getting a lot of heat. The president’s staff doesn’t want to him to be
compromised.”
“The fuck does that mean?”
“It means I can’t use you as an informant this time.”
“What changed?”
“The upcoming election.”
“So now what? We play footsie and I slip you notes in between classes?”
“You keep a low profile and don’t be seen around any Chechens.”
“Right,” Tommy said. “Because I won’t be seeing any Chechens in the near future. They killed my close friends and they threatened my nephew, but no, of course, I’ll stay far away from them.”
“Just be careful,” Nick said. “I’m going to find a way into Zelman’s business. From the looks of these documents, he’s vulnerable.”
Tommy shook his head. “Whatever.” Then he got up and walked out.
When he was halfway down the hall, he stopped and stared at a closed door to his left. He heard nothing, but he felt a lot. He twisted the doorknob and gently opened the door.
Cara stood over her childhood dresser, looking down at a framed photo in her hands.
Tommy walked over and gazed down at the picture. It was Cara, maybe seven or eight years old, sitting on a pony while her dad tried to keep her in the saddle. The smile on her face was bright and penetrated the camera lens like a laser beam.
“It feels like I’ve been grieving for years,” Cara said, giving the photo her full attention.
“No matter how hard you try to change your course, the past can come always back and bite you.”
She mulled that over for a moment before saying, “He was a good man.”
“No,” Tommy said. “He was a great man.”
“This picture was taken in the Adirondacks,” she said. “My dad found a stable with a pony small enough for me to ride.”
“I know,” Tommy said.
She looked up at him. “Did he tell you about it?”
“I took the picture.”
She squinted. “What?”
“You know why you were there?”
“I thought it was a family vacation.”
Tommy shook his head. “There was a writers conference in Ithaca. Angela had to stay home with the boys, so he asked me to go along and hang with you during the day. Make it a fun trip for you too. Then he would come back from his classes each night and tell you everything he learned.”
“He really loved to write, didn’t he?”
“He was never more proud than when you graduated from ASU with a journalism degree. Wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.”
She looked back down at the photo. “I seem to remember some things from this trip. We went swimming in a lake, right?”
“We did.”
“You threw a rock at a beehive hanging from a tree.”
“No, that was a different time. We were both younger and stupider.”
“But you were with me when that happened?”
“Yeah, but I’d rather not talk about that stuff.”
“What stuff? Why?”
“Well, because it makes this whole thing,” Tommy jutted his index finger between the two of them, “seem more family oriented.”
“You mean like brother and sister. That kind of thing?”
Tommy shrugged.
“Hmm.” Cara put the photo on the dresser, then slowly walked past him and shut the door. A moment later, the lock clicked into place. She turned around with a sly grin and said, “Let’s put an end to that right now.”