You Can’t Hide Forever
8 Months Ago
It was Friday, and I was up early again. For some reason, I never slept on Fridays. I always seemed to pop up by six, and for no good reason. I planned on going to Chicago today to mail the gun off to Bugs, but Gina had me running errands—and when a woman is planning a wedding, a man better go along with it. I did.
Ever since the fiasco with Angie’s letter, we had enjoyed ourselves, falling right back into old ways of laughing and having fun. Once or twice, Gina even mentioned kids. I told her I’d love to have some, but I worried about her; mid-thirties was tough for a first-time mother. I wanted her to do what was right for her, but secretly I prayed she would decide to have at least one child. We even got to the point of discussing names. The wedding was two weeks away, and we had a lot left to do.
“I have to get to Chicago,” I said. “Bugs expected that package last week.”
“Why not mail it from here and be done with it?”
“No. I trust Bugs, but I want to be careful. Mailing it from Chicago means it really could have come from anywhere. We’ll do it at the airport Fed-Ex so anyone is a suspect, even people with connecting flights.”
“Can I come with you?”
“Of course. We’ll make a day of it.”
“Then what do we do with what’s left of this magnificent day?” She danced across the living room as if she were waltzing.
“I’ll make a deal. You pick up some shrimp and pasta, and I’ll get fresh bread. If you’re a good girl, and promise me favors tonight, I’ll get you cannoli.”
She undid a button or two on her blouse, looked at me with sultry eyes. “The favors I’ll promise, but don’t act like this is for me. You’re only going to get the sfogliatelle. Sometimes I think you like eating that more than other things.”
“Goddamn. That hurt.”
“Because I might be right?”
I hesitated long enough to draw a kick from her beautiful bare foot, which I grabbed and kissed. “I guess it’s you, but the sfogliatelle comes in a close second.”
“I’ll remember that tonight, sweet Nicky,” she said, as she slipped on her shoes. “I’ll be back before you. You know where to find me.”
I laughed as I left the house. “Now you’re going to make me run.”
She threw a kiss to me. “Bye.”
I walked, didn’t run, the few blocks to the bakery. Once inside, I savored the aromas that took me back to childhood. There wasn’t much in life as good as this. I ordered the loaf of bread, two cannoli, and two sfogliatelle. I could have eaten four, but if I kept that up, I’d end up looking like Patsy the Whale. They bagged the bread, put the others in a box, and stuffed both inside a nice bag with handles.
“See you next week, Richie.”
I almost didn’t respond. It was tough to remember my fake name. “Okay, see you then,” I said, and headed out the door. It was a beautiful day, and I had a beautiful life. I whistled and sang songs all the way home, while thoughts of Mamma Rosa’s humming kept a smile on my face.
#
Nino Tortella sat in the back seat of a car across the street, halfway down the block from the bakery. He stared, then did a double take, then leaned forward and tapped Tommy Devin on the shoulder. “Hey, Tommy, what’s your take? Is that him?”
Tommy looked at the picture on the seat beside him, then back at the man walking down the sidewalk with a bag from the bakery. “No doubt. It’s him.”
Nino punched some numbers on his phone and waited for an answer.
“Yeah?”
“Bingo.”
“Where?”
“Bakery, just like you said. We’re following him now.”
“Don’t let him spot you.”
“Don’t worry, he—”
“And don’t try anything with this guy. If he suspects something, he could kill you ten times before you even think of what to do. And believe me, you don’t want him on your ass. He once told me what he’d do to anyone who betrayed him.”
“Okay. We’ll just follow.”
“That’s right. Follow. I want to know where he lives. And I need to find that girl.”