Chapter 2
Walter had not controlled his own phone for five days.
That was the first truth.
The second was worse.
Neither had he controlled his food.
Valentina moved him into the sitting room.
Brian and Melissa were separated under guard.
No shouting.
No police.
No one left the house.
Walter sat beside the fireplace with a fresh plate in front of him.
Prime rib.
Potatoes.
Bread.
He stared at it.
“Eat.”
His eyes lifted.
“Am I allowed?”
Valentina went completely still.
Walter seemed to realize what he had said.
He looked down.
“Dad.”
He tried to smile.
“It’s nothing.”
“No.”
Valentina sat across from him.
“It stopped being nothing when you asked permission to eat.”
Walter’s hands tightened.
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then:
“Brian said I wasn’t contributing.”
Valentina stared.
“To what?”
“His house.”
She almost laughed.
Walter had purchased the house twenty-one years earlier.
He allowed Brian and Melissa to live there after they married.
But that argument could wait.
“What did they do?”
Walter looked toward the dining room.
“If I answered questions, I ate normally.”
“And if you didn’t?”
He shrugged.
“Whatever was left.”
Valentina’s face hardened.
“Tonight?”
“They wanted a recording.”
“What recording?”
Walter looked at the phone.
“A message to the old men.”
The three retired capos.
All loyal to Walter.
All men who respected Valentina but still treated her father’s voice like family law.
“What were you supposed to say?”
Walter swallowed.
“That you’d lost your nerve.”
Silence.
“That I wanted Brian to speak for the family.”
Valentina leaned back.
There it was.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
Walter laughed bitterly.
“My phone was gone.”
“Five days?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you leave?”
He looked ashamed.
That angered her more.
“Melissa said if I walked out, she’d tell everyone I was confused.”
Valentina’s eyes narrowed.
Walter continued.
“She said Brian would tell the old crews I’d started wandering.”
His mouth twisted.
“Then she smiled and brought me tea.”
Hypocrisy.
Perfectly packaged.
“She did it in front of staff?”
“In front of everyone.”
Walter looked toward the doorway.
“They were kind when people watched.”
Then quieter:
“Afterward, Brian said old men should be grateful anyone still feeds them.”
Valentina’s jaw tightened.
Walter finally picked up his fork.
He took one bite.
Then his phone buzzed.
Valentina looked down.
Outgoing call history.
Three calls.
All placed after midnight two nights earlier.
To the same three retired capos.
Walter stared.
“I was asleep.”
Valentina looked at him.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Where was the phone?”
“With Melissa.”
The room went quiet.
Someone had already contacted the old Hartwell men from Walter’s phone.
May you like
The draft message wasn’t preparation.
It was continuation.
