The door to his office is open. He is alone in the room. I close the door as I enter.
“Thank you for coming, sorry I had to be...this is not an easy discussion to have. Sit, please.” Carlo’s eyes are on his clenched hands on his desk.
I sit, a different unease building. I’m not about to be killed, but something is definitely wrong.
“With Johnny’s funeral I needed you to know. I left this far too long because I—Luca is arriving today for the funeral to pay his respects. For your wedding I kept him in Vegas on a useless task so he wouldn’t come. With Johnny dead, he has to come.” His eyes lift for a fraction of a second before sliding back down to his clenched hands that are now becoming white.
What the hell did this have to do with Luca? Did the man want money or something?
“Your father, he—Linda Moretti was Luca’s mother. She had a bad marriage. The guy was abusive. In the family we don’t get involved in things between a man and his wife. But the guy was brutal, your father.” He sighs, tearing his hands apart, he digs into his pocket and pulls out a pristine handkerchief he runs over his forehead. “He got involved and because he was a Sabatini and Moretti wished he could do what your father did, Moretti looked the other way. After the funeral of her husband, she went out to her brother in Vegas, she met my brother and they got married. Al, he couldn’t have kids.”
So how the fuck is—no fucking way. I’m shaking my head as Carlo offers me a picture frame. I don’t want to take it. I don’t need to, the man in the frame could be me. Could be Anthony Junior, but he’s not. “How could—I—” I’m up, needing room.
“It’s why I don’t have him come to Chicago. Johnny never knew. With your father going low after serving his time, not many people have seen both Luca and your father to know. Linda died almost five years ago and she never told him. Luca didn’t know Al wasn’t his father until Al died last year. He’s been asking questions. I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t tell your father. I was afraid he’d kill me.” Carlo shakes his head as he mops the sweat off his forehead.
I nod. He was right to be afraid of Pop...fucking hell. I haven’t spoken to him since this morning before I climbed into the back of the ambulance with Johnny.
“When does he arrive?”
“Two o’clock. He’s coming here. He’ll stay here while he’s in town.”
“Me and Pop will be here when he gets here. Clear the house, you might want to find a safe place for the day.”
Carlo nods, his eyes finally meet mine. They’re full of regret, then he closes his eyes as his head goes back against his chair.
I make it to Pop’s place only a half hour later. Pulling in front of his house, I don’t know if I’m relieved or not he’s home. For the first time in ever, I knock. I’m out of sorts, not sure of anything right now.
He opens the door. At first he smiles, his eyes bright until he looks me over. “What’s the matter?”
“Can I come in?”
A frown. “Of course, this is your home.”
I walk in and go straight to his bar in his library. Pulling out his scotch, I grab a glass and pour until the glass is almost full. There is no careful, measured sip. The burn is necessary as I search for the words.
“Regina, okay?”
I’ll tell him about Taylor another time. I take another drink. Once it’s gone I set the glass down. “Linda Moretti.” It’s all I can say.
Pop goes still. “What about Linda Moretti?”
All I can do is look him in the eye. The seconds tick by, it clicks, he shakes his head in disbelief. “No.”
“Luca, it was like looking in a mirror.” His head goes back as if I punched him. “Al couldn’t have kids.”
Pop’s eyes are closed, he whispers a prayer. If I believed in prayer I would too.
“His plane gets in at two. I told Carlo you and I would be at Carlo’s place when he gets there, where he’ll be staying while he’s in town.”
Pop shakes his head. “Al was a bastard and a drunk. Luca.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I know so little of him.”
Nodding, I pull out my phone. Valdez answers before it rings. I put it on speaker. “Mr. Sabatini, my apologies, we are still unable to locate Taylor.”
“That’s not what this is about. Taylor is dead. I killed him a few hours ago. I need to know everything about Luca Toro you can find. I mean everything. If you can find out his favorite color, I want to know it.”
There is a moment of silence. “You weren’t aware of his relation to you? I apologize, sir. We have a file on him, I can send it now.”
“Why do you have a file on him?” Pop asks.