A Season for the Dead

Fifty-Six

He abandoned the car in the street and dashed through the thickening rain, looking for her, knowing she would be trying to hide. Nic Costa had no idea what was driving Michael Denney to the church but he felt certain his daughter would join him there. Teresa Lupo’s news had cleared his head. He could begin to see a direct, linear connection linking her actions now. When he had time to sit down and think it all through, he would see more. For now that was a luxury. The truth seemed apparent. She was intent on joining her father in his flight from Rome, unaware of the fate Falcone had in mind for Denney.

The crowds milled around the backstreets of the Pantheon, trying to escape the slow, greasy rain. Costa pushed through them, ignoring the curses he got in return, praying she was not already inside. Then, in a narrow alley a minute from the church, he saw her. She wore a silk scarf over her hair and had the collar of her light raincoat up to her face. She was huddled in a doorway, avoiding the rain, avoiding a decision too, perhaps.

He ran across the cobblestones and faced her, holding out his arms, barring the way. Her green eyes were dark in the half-light of the coming storm.

“Sara,” he said, gently taking her by the shoulders. “I know.”

“Know what?” she murmured, pulling away from him.

“There’s no need to pretend anymore. I understand.”

She leaned back against the damp, grimy wall. “Don’t, Nic. I’d rather not hear this.”

He hesitated. There was so little time. “The labs have been looking at evidence. About you. About Gino Fosse. You’re Denney’s daughter, not his lover.” He made sure to see the effect of what came next.

“Gino’s your brother. Did you know that?”

She groaned. “Can’t you ever stop prying?”

“There are people dead, for God’s sake. It’s not done yet. Did you know about Gino?”

“Yes,” she sighed. “Michael… my father told me some weeks ago. He thought it unwise to tell him as well. Gino couldn’t handle himself.

Michael wanted me to know for my own sake. He only told me he was my father last year. Before that I just thought he was a friend from the convent in Paris. Someone who administered the estate of the people I believed were my parents.”

She turned her face toward the wall, fighting back the tears. “You can’t imagine the joy I felt when he told me that. There was a part of me alive, outside myself.”

“A year ago. Exactly when he began to realize he needed help to get out of that place.”

Her green eyes stared into his and he wondered what emotion was there: love, pity, hate? Or a little of all three. “You only think you understand what’s happening, Nic. Stay out of this.”

“No. There’s more. Someone else knew what was going on. When they found out about Gino they had the weapon they needed.”

“What weapon? Gino is… what he is.”

“Perhaps. But he was primed. I know it. Pretty soon I may be able to prove it too.”

“What?” Her head went from side to side. Her eyes were wild. “What are you talking about?”

“This was what they wanted all along. Your father dead. Everything began from that. Gino was just a tool they used to try to make your father run. I know what he was doing for Denney. Driving you to these people. Taking those pictures for blackmail if he needed it. Then handing them to Denney, who used them to try to buy his freedom. What Denney didn’t know was that he was being watched all the time too. By someone who eventually told Gino who you really are. That’s what drove Gino over the edge. He realized what Denney was doing to his own sister. That’s what we’ve been chasing every step of the way.”

“Who would tell him that? Why?”

“Denney’s former friends. Crooks. Maybe some people in authority too. Maybe all three. Why? Think about it. He could put them all in jail. He’s stolen from them. They want to feel safe. Maybe they want payback.”

“Nic!” she said, despairing. “Don’t make this worse than it is. He’s leaving. It said so on the news. They’re letting him go back to the States. He’ll be out of everyone’s life there.” She paused.

“Including mine. I just want to see him before he goes. That’s all. He’s made this arrangement so that we can say good-bye.”

She looked at him in a way he’d forgotten. It was the expression she’d worn when they first met, the one full of suspicion and doubt. The one in which he was a cop, nothing more. “I suppose you know that anyway,” she said bitterly.

He held her hands, not knowing what to say, wanting to believe her.

“You know what I did for him?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“He’s my father, Nic. I thought I could help. The person who did all that… it wasn’t me.”

“I know. I knew all along, I just couldn’t work it out.”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. She was, he realized, embarrassed. “Was I supposed to say no? What wouldn’t you do to save Marco?”

He didn’t say a word. She understood his silence.

“Because Marco would never have asked, would never have allowed such things to happen? You’re right. The trouble is, most of us aren’t trying to be perfect like you and your father, Nic. We accept that we’re flawed. We do our best to cope with that.”

He touched her face, gingerly. “What’s done is done. All I care about now is what’s ahead.”

“I have to see him,” she insisted. “Stay away, Nic. You don’t have to do this for me.”

“If I stay away he’s dead. This isn’t just about you. I’ve lost a partner. I don’t forget things like that.”

She looked down the alley. The rain was falling steadily now. The crowds were dispersing into doorways. “Leave me alone with him. Just for one minute. After that…”

“I can’t. It’s not safe.”

“What is?” she asked. “Nic, this church is where he met my mother. Our mother.” She waited to see his response. “It means something you can’t begin to appreciate. Something that doesn’t concern you.”

He turned away from her, scowling.

“Are you jealous of him?” she asked. “That we’re close, in spite of everything?”

The words hit home. “Maybe. Baffled too. I don’t know how he could do this to you.”

“He was at his wit’s end. He needed my help. He was dying behind those walls. You didn’t see him.”

“This was about help?” he retorted bitterly. “He keeps his existence secret from you for years. He reveals it only when he needs you. Is that an act of love?”

“No, desperation. Sometimes love grows out of despair. He wasn’t the only one who felt that way. I was alone. I’ve been alone all my life. I told you, Nic. We’re not perfect people. We never will be. I didn’t have a family around me like you. I knew when he told me, about my mother, about the choice they were forced to make… I knew I’d do anything for him. Anything.”

“And you still will?”

“Do you think it was easy for me? Sleeping with these people? Knowing I was being watched… used.”

“Then why do it?” He couldn’t keep the note of disapproval out of his voice.

“I’ll never make you understand. We’re too different. My father’s a frightened, vulnerable man. He’s wronged people. He’s wronged me. In a way I can’t explain that made it all simpler. I could either abandon him, or I could… I could do what he wanted and hope one day he’d be free. I did what I did for both of us. To set him free. To restore to my own life something that had been taken from me. Given the same choices again I’d make the same decision. What’s one night with a stranger if it brings your own father back from the dead?”

“You’re right there,” he admitted. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t do this to me. You’re as frightened of a world on your own as I am. That’s the one thing we do have in common.”

He didn’t argue. He didn’t even want to think about it.

“I want him safe,” she insisted. “And Gino too, whatever he’s done. He doesn’t deserve this.” She looked down the street. “You think the church is where they…” She couldn’t go on.

He scanned the street, looking for someone, anyone, he knew. There were only tourists, skulking in doorways. Perhaps they were there already. “Falcone agreed he could go to the church. It’s insane. In the circumstances. Falcone wouldn’t go along with the idea without a reason.”

“What can you do?”

“Something, maybe.” It wouldn’t be easy. He was on his own. He’d no idea whether the calls he’d placed would work. Or whether they’d been intercepted. “I don’t know, Sara. If it’s Falcone, some enemies he’s made among his own people, some crooks from outside too…”

She was silent. It was impossible for him to guess what she was thinking.

“I’ve talked to some people I can trust,” he replied, struggling to understand the situation himself. “My father’s spoken to some of his contacts. I can’t guarantee this will work. I know I can’t just walk away. Luca’s dead because of what they did. If they get away with killing your father, they get away with everything.”

“You don’t have to be there.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

It happened so suddenly. She reached forward, took his face in her hands and kissed him. He tasted her mouth. Memories flooded back. For a moment he was drowning in them.

“I wanted to tell you,” she whispered. “I despised myself for not having the courage. Don’t hate me for this. Please…”

When she looked at him like this he knew there was no point in protesting, knew he was lost.

“When we get there, when it’s safe, I want a minute with him, Nic. Alone. That’s all. You have to give me that. You have to trust me.”

His fingers gripped her soft, fine hair. “I could never hate you.”

“He’s my father. He’s all I have.”

She kissed him again, hard. He wanted to hold her like this forever, locked tight against each other, perfect, safe, until all the world went quiet.

“You have me,” he said.

The taste of her filled his head. He was lost in her anguished beauty.