Irrevocable (Evan Arden 5)

“I know the feeling.”

She looks at me for a long moment but doesn’t ask any questions. I’m glad of it.

I really hope she’ll stay.

Chapter 20—Unplanned Encounter

I stand dumbly in the rain.

Black suit, white shirt, black tie. I have to keep adjusting my grip on the wet, wooden handle of the casket, trying to keep my knees from giving out on me. It’s not the physical weight but the emotional magnitude.

It’s not a dream this time.

There’s a big turnout for the funeral despite the weather. Well-liked or not, Rinaldo was a big name in Chicago, and it looks like the “who’s who” of the city’s underworld at the cemetery. Several people have even flown in from Italy to be here.

Lele and Lucia hold hands as they make their way to the canopy-covered grass and sit in the front row. Jonathan, Paulie, and Nick help me position the casket on its stand above the large, covered hole in the ground.

Lele reaches out for me, and I take the seat beside her. I stare in a daze at the immense flower arrangement on top of the casket. I don’t hear the priest’s words, just Lele’s muted crying. Lucia is speaking in calming tones to her mother, but I don’t know what she says. Everything is bleak, dreary, and vague.

He’s gone.

I can’t fathom it. As many men as I have watched die, I can’t wrap my head around this one man being gone from the world. No more hospital visits. No more inspirational talks after meetings in his office. No more son.

As the ceremony ends, I feel as if I’m being shoved into the hole along with him.

A proper Italian feast has been prepared back at the church. The crowd is smaller, but the whole place still feels claustrophobic. There’s a decent-sized group looking at two giant posters filled with pictures of Rinaldo and his family, and people line up to offer their condolences to Lele and Lucia as they try to eat.

I don’t speak to anyone, and no one approaches me. Even Jonathan keeps his distance.

Alina had offered to attend, but I told her not to. I didn’t want a bunch of people asking who she is, or worse, knowing who she is. Now I wish she were here. Despite the crowd, I feel as alone as I ever have.

The only person who keeps his eyes on me is Paulie. Rinaldo made it clear he is now my security. I find the idea laughable, but he’s the only person other than Jonathan who knows I am now in charge.

Just call me capo famiglia.

I hear a few people speaking hushed words about who might be in control of the business, but I don’t offer them any answers. They’ll all figure it out soon enough, and this isn’t the time or place for business. A few of them glance at me, but I doubt I appear particularly approachable at the moment. If any of them did care to ask me outright, I would be happy to take them outside and it explain in detail.

With a gun.

A lady from the church stops by and offers me a cup of coffee. I take it without wanting it, and as soon as she leaves, I try to find a place to discard it. The door near the kitchen is open, and I wander in to toss the cup in the sink. Instead of leaving, I hang out in the doorway.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Lele crying and Lucia trying to comfort her. Part of me wants to go over and help, but I can’t quite look Lele in the face just yet. She’s been through enough, and I keep thinking about her other daughter, Margot, and how much more complicated everything is after what I have done. If Lele knew I killed Felisa, it would devastate her.

I need to get her out of Chicago and back to Italy as soon as possible.

Lucia hugs her mother, says something quietly into her ear, and then heads away from the room toward a door behind the kitchen. She walks right past me but must not notice me standing here. I get a brief glance at her, wiping tears from her cheek as she rushes past me. I’m pretty sure the direction she’s headed leads to the area behind the sanctuary where the altar boys hang out with their candlesnuffers.

I follow.

There’s a long corridor behind the door but no sign of Lucia. I head down the hall, fairly certain it runs parallel to the chapel. There are a few doors to the right and left, but I don’t see her inside any of the rooms. I reach the back of the hall where it splits off to the left and right.

“Lucia?” I call out.

“Go away!”

I follow her voice to an alcove containing a small desk and a stack of Bibles. She’s leaning against the desk with her back to me, her arms wrapped around herself as she shakes.

“Lucia,” I say again, softly. I move up behind her and pull her back to my chest. She turns in my arms and presses her forehead against me as her fingers grip at my jacket lapels.