“Mr. Bracato?” the nanny asked. “Please, sir, I need to see you, if I could.”
“What is it?” He opened the door just a sliver.
“Your father has called so many times and would like to speak to you. He sounded upset. Would Mrs. Bracato like for me to bring the baby in? She likes spending time with him in the mornings.”
“No! My wife’s sick and doesn’t want to be disturbed. Keep my son away from her, and tell the rest of the staff to stay out.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry I had to bother you.”
As soon as the nanny left, Giovanni yanked the master suite door open and shoved his way in.
“When I fucking call you, I expect you to pick up the phone and talk to me,” he screamed. Stopping, he stared at the lump on the bed and sneered. “You know what your problem is? You’ve lost control of your house, boy. Your wife should know better than to lounge around after nine o’clock. It’s time for you to start teaching your wife who’s in charge here just like I have at home.”
“She’s dead,” Gino whispered. He buried his face in his hands and tried his best not to cry in front of his father. Despite all their problems, he had loved Eris once and never dreamed their relationship would end like this.
“Fucking shit,” Giovanni said. “What happened?”
“Looks like she snorted enough blow to fry her brain. I was out last night and came in to find her like this. What am I going to do, Papa?”
The slap to the side of Gino’s head almost knocked him off the chair.
“First, you start sounding like the man I raised and not some weak pussy. All we have to do is get rid of her, then report her missing. They can’t find her here, Gino, or you’ll go down for this no matter how it happened.
“Go get cleaned up, because there’s nothing we can do about this now in broad daylight. We have bigger problems, and I need your help.”
“What’s wrong?” Gino stood up and walked away from his father, trying to put some distance between them.
“Your brothers are all missing. I’ve been to all their houses and checked all the places they could be, but no one’s seen them. Stephano and Michael pull shit like this all the time, but Francis knows better than to keep me waiting. We’re meeting with the Luis family this morning, and he was coming with me.” He shook Gino by the shoulders. “When was the last time you saw them?”
Stephano’s late-night call for backup rushed back to Gino with such a vengeance, he slumped down on the end of the bed. If something had happened to his brother, his father would never forgive him for putting a woman before his family. “Yesterday afternoon when we were all together,” he lied. “I didn’t hear from them after that.”
“Take a shower and get dressed,” Giovanni ordered. “And don’t forget to lock the door on the way out. We don’t need anyone wandering in here while we’re gone. Tonight after we find your brothers and get business squared away, we’ll deal with your little problem. At least most of the people who knew your wife knew what a junkie she was. Nobody’ll even miss her.”
Except me, Gino thought, as he looked back at the woman he’d once loved.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Think this is some trick to pull us away from something bigger?” Claire asked.
“I’ve been wrong so much lately that I’m not even going to guess.” Shelby studied the people around Cain and didn’t spot a viable threat. Cain sat totally alone near the rail in Café du Monde, resembling any other tourist. “I’ve only seen Cain like this one other time—the first time she saw Emma after she got back to town.”
“After seeing them last night, I’d say that they’ve solved their problems. You’re dying to go over there and talk to her, aren’t you?”
“I may want to, but I’ve broken more than my share of procedures when it comes to Cain Casey. Eventually all that could catch up with me.”
Claire shut off the camera they had trained on Cain drinking coffee. “Why don’t you take a break?” She pointed to the camera. “We seem to be having technical difficulties.”
“Thanks, Claire.”
The noise of the French Quarter increased when Shelby opened the door and climbed out of the van that sported a local plumbing company’s logo. Noticing Emma approach the café from the direction of downtown, headed for Cain’s table, Shelby stopped abruptly after stepping off the curb. Plans forgotten, she calmly returned to their air-conditioned haven, took the headphones from Claire, and waited for the conversation across the street to begin.
“Want to talk about it?”
Cain shook her head and ran her finger around the rim of the generic white mug. A plate full of the powdered beignets the place was famous for sat untouched next to the mug.
“Just felt like a cup of coffee, huh?”
“Something like that.” Cain finally picked up the cup again and took a sip. “This place is a tradition for me, and God knows more than one tradition has shaped my life.” She cut her eyes briefly to the van across the street and wondered who, in addition to Shelby, was listening in.
“This place is mine alone, not like the club and the bar. I used to come here early some mornings after leaving the pub or after dropping you off to people-watch. Your apartment wasn’t far from here.” She pointed down the alley across the street. “Trying to figure out what was going on with them helped me sort out what was going on in here.” Cain tapped the side of her head.
“I can go,” Emma said.
Cain grasped Emma’s wrist. “Not yet. Are you here alone?”
“Same as you, so no lectures, okay?”
“Sometimes, lass, no matter how much you think we’re alike, we’re not. My being out here alone isn’t the same.”
Emma jerked her arm away, and her upper body slammed into the back of the chair. “I thought we’d come to an understanding.”
“What, that I’d give everyone in the world who’s pissed at me a free shot at you?”
“No, that you would let me in.” Emma put her hands flat on the table. “That you’d treat me like I’m something more than an ornament for your arm for nights like last night.”
Cain widened her eyes slightly, and Emma stopped talking.
“I can’t talk about something I don’t know anything about. I can’t lead you into something I don’t know a way out of myself. Do you understand me?”
“No.”
“Then this is what we call putting your chips down. If you don’t understand, then you have to trust me to guide you until you do. Do you trust me that much?”
“Yes,” Emma said without hesitation. “I don’t want to destroy the trust we’ve built up since I’ve been back, but I don’t want to be shut out of part of your life like I was before.”
Before Cain made any more declarations, she pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket and dialed her uncle’s number, getting Lou. “Café Du Monde, and make it fast. Merrick’s package seems to have walked out the door without her. After the dressing-room incident I’d have thought she’d have been a little more vigilant.”
“You promised,” Emma said in a dejected tone. “And I believed you.”
Not wanting to draw any attention to them, Cain grasped the seat of Emma’s chair and pulled her closer. “I said a lot of things, but so did you.” The pain in Emma’s eyes was almost enough to shatter her resolve, but Cain kept going. “Now listen to me and believe me when I tell you this isn’t the time or the place to talk about this.”
“But, Cain—”
Cain took advantage of this opening line. “I’m tired of talking about this, Emma.” With another quick tug Cain yanked Emma’s chair across the sticky cement, bringing her wife even nearer. The rest of the talk was so low the microphone trained on them couldn’t pick up what they said.
Shelby and Claire watched as Emma pushed away and stood up, then almost ran out of the café, dodging a few cars as she crossed the street and started down the alley next to Jackson Square. She made it almost to the end close to St. Louis Cathedral before Cain grasped her bicep firmly and whispered in Emma’s ear again, not letting her go when she tried to break free.