BOSCO DIDN’T MAKE it?
Bosco died?
I’d done that. I’d killed him. All of a sudden I couldn’t breathe.
“Bruno, Sonja wants to see you. She wants to meet with you. She said it’s important she talk with you right away.”
“Okay, okay. Just hold on a minute, okay, honey? Please.” I took in several long breaths and then walked back to Dan, held the phone down to my chest, and said, “Can you keep an eye on Drago, call me if you hear anything?”
“Sure, where are you headed?”
“Sonja wants to see me.”
He nodded and didn’t say be careful. He didn’t have to. He pulled his Glock from his shoulder holster and handed it to me. A major violation of FBI policy. A major law violation as well, giving an ex-felon a gun and aiding and abetting a felon. He wanted to step out on that limb with me, risk his career. I waved the gun off. “No, thanks, I’m good. But I need a car.”
He pointed to the Suburban and yelled, “Mike, take him wherever he wants to go and back him with whatever he needs to do.”
Mike got in the Suburban and closed the door, waiting for me.
I said to Dan, “Thanks.”
“You call me,” Dan said. “You understand? Keep in touch. We’re going to be all over that steak house tonight. If you get in trouble, use that panic button on the phone.”
“Huh?” No way did I intend to go to that deal. No way. What the hell was he thinking?
I tried to shift gears to the problems that lay ahead. The thoughts came a lot slower than normal. My mind had been working a problem, an issue my subconscious caught onto that I’d missed. It locked in now. “Ah, shit.” I jumped in the Suburban and slammed the door. “Go, go. Head downtown, the Bonaventure Hotel.”
I put the phone back to my ear. “Marie?”
“Bruno, what’s going on? What’s wrong with Drago? Where are you? What’s happened?”
She’d heard my conversation with Dan. “Marie. Marie, listen to me. You said Sonja called you?”
“Yes, that’s right. Tell me what happened to Drago.”
“You didn’t call her?”
“No, Bruno, I just told you she called me on the hotel phone.”
“How did she know you were there?”
“I thought you’d changed your mind and called her, told her where we were staying so she could come be with her grandson.”
I said to the driver, “Mike, hit it, put your foot in it, we have to get to the Bonaventure downtown right now.”
Mike turned on the lights and siren.
“Marie, where’s the baby?”
“Right here on my lap, why?”
“Check him over. Does he have a necklace, something attached to his clothes, anything like that?”
“Don’t be silly, babies don’t wear necklaces. They can strangle or choke on them. He’s got a cute little bracelet, though.”
“Take it off him and flush it down the toilet. Do it now.”
“Bruno, you’re talking crazy again.”
“Marie.”
“All right.”
“Then get out of there. Don’t panic. Stay calm and walk out of there right now. Don’t take anything with you, just walk out the door right now.”
“Bruno, what’s going on?”
“Are you moving?”
“Yes, yes.”
“I’m on my way there,” I said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Take a cab, get away from that hotel. You understand?”
“I got it, Bruno. You only have to explain things to me once. I tossed the bracelet in the toilet.” The whoosh of the toilet sounded in the background.
“Don’t grab anything, just get out.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m walking out now. Oh . . . oh wait . . . I . . . Oh my God, Bruno.”
“What? What is it? Is someone in your room?”
“No. The news, on the television.”
“What news? The television?”
Oh no, not now. Not now.
I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes as the whole world dropped down on top of me, tons of weight smothering me.
“My God, Bruno. You didn’t tell me. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I imagined her standing in front of the television watching the footage from the CHP unit cam.
Watching me fight the three Visigoths. The sickening violence of the event.
Watching me flip Bosco out into traffic, the horrified look on his face in the short flight to his doom a half second away.
Watching the Honda snatch Bosco out of the air and smash and mangle his body.
Every couple of seconds, she let out a little yelp, the kind a puppy makes. With each yelp I shrank a little smaller in the seat, shrank again and again until I no longer resembled a normal human being, until I no longer existed.
She came back on the phone, her breath fast. “Oh, Bruno, sweetie, I’m so sorry, are you okay? I mean—”
My voice came out barely a whisper. “Yes. Yes, everything’s fine.”
Only it wasn’t.
“Marie, honey, we really need to talk about this later. You need to get out of there now.”
“You . . . You. That’s why you didn’t want to take the baby. You’re the one . . . Oh my God, Bruno, how awful. Are you sure you’re okay? Where are you? I need to be with you.”
All of a sudden I realized I needed to talk with Sonja and not Marie. I had to tell Sonja myself. Look her in the eye and tell her what I did to Bosco. I’d been a coward not telling her something so important. What the hell had I been thinking? I needed to fix it.
I swallowed hard to get the lump out of my throat and said to Marie, “Are you out of the room?”
“Yes, in the hall, moving to the elevator.”
“Okay, grab a cab and find a place with lots of people around. Let me know where it is, and I’ll have the FBI there in a few minutes.”
I looked up to the rearview to Mike’s eyes. He watched me and nodded, picked up his cell and dialed.
“Marie, where did Sonja say she wanted to meet?”
“Joey’s. She said you’d know the place.”
I pulled the phone down to my chest and said to Mike, “We’re close to the GMC, drop me there and pick up my wife, and please take good care of her. I’ll give you her cell.”
Back into the phone I said, “Marie, I’m going to meet Sonja. I have to . . . I have to talk to her.”
“I understand. I love you, Bruno.”
“I love you, too.” We stayed connected in the silence for a long moment.
Mike pulled into the shopping center and alongside the GMC. I said, “Gimme your cell.” He handed it to me. I said into my phone, “I’m going to hang up and call you on another phone.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’m out front looking for a cab. It’s going to be okay, Bruno, I promise.”
How could she possibly know that? No way could it be okay, not after what happened, not after what I’d done.
“I know,” I said. “I’ll call you right back on the agent’s phone.”
I did. She picked up. “I’m handing you over to Mike. He’s a good guy. Stay on the line with him until he picks you up. Love you, babe.”
I handed the phone over. He took it. “This is Mike, Mrs. Johnson.”
I got out of the Suburban. It took off, tires screeching, before I even closed the door.
I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to face Sonja. This would be the most difficult conversation I’d ever had.