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I glared at her. “You’re asking about the jet and not my brother?”
“If anything happened to him, you wouldn’t have said ‘try to kill my brother,’” she retorted. “And you wouldn’t have brought up the jet at all.”
She had a point.
“So you’ve got a jet?” she repeated.
“You don’t?” I asked snarkily.
Lucia snorted. “Nona doesn’t like to travel.” Then she grew serious. “Is everybody in your family okay?”
“Yes. For the moment, anyway.”
“That’s good…”
It was a nice shift in her demeanor. She could be almost pleasant when she put her mind to it.
“We need to call your grandmother,” I said.
“That would be so much easier if some fuckhead hadn’t thrown my phone overboard,” Lucia said with mock sweetness.
The bitchy little brat was back.
I glared at her but didn’t dignify her insult with a response. “What’s your grandmother’s phone number?”
“She doesn’t have one. Her little minions hand her one if she needs it.”
“Alright, what’s one of their phone numbers?”
“I don’t know. They were all programmed into my phone… which somebody threw overboard.”
I sighed. I was getting weary of this game.
“Don’t you have ANY way to contact her?”
Lucia rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course. There’s the main house number – they’ll patch you through.”
She gave me the number. I called and immediately got an operator who gave me a generic greeting.
“This is Massimo Rosolini – ” I said.
“PUT HIM THROUGH TO NONA!” Lucia yelled at the top of her lungs.
I glared at her. She just smiled back sweetly.
The operator must have recognized Lucia’s voice because he said, “Please hold.”
About ten seconds later, I heard the Widow’s voice.
“Signor Rosolini?”
“Signora,” I greeted her.
“You have my granddaughter?”
I could hear the anxiety in her voice.
“Yes, we’re safe. We’re close to – ”
