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“We need to spread Rosie’s ashes.”
“We can do it tomorrow morning before we go. I found an Airbnb on the edge of town. Let’s get you a shower and a few hours of sleep. I can go get your things from the hotel.”
“I can get them. When can we leave here?”
“You need to sign some things and we’re free to go. I asked that everything be written out in English. No one is going to Amanda Knox you. The consulate is making sure of that. They’ve written up an account of what happened, about how you were attacked and a document that says you won’t be pressing any charges. Unless you want to press charges?”
I ran the tip of my finger along the yellowed rubber on Carla’s ancient black Chuck Taylors, the twins of mine. This was what she’d written on them, a line from the Meredith Brooks girl empowerment anthem we listened to on repeat back in the nineties, I’m a sinner, I’m a saint. I do not feel ashamed.
I shook my head no and let Carla strip me of my bloody T-shirt like a toddler. She took off her own Temple Law hoodie and pulled it over me. The sweatshirt was soft and smelled like home. My sister left and returned shortly with a doctor who bandaged my ribs, wrapped me up like a burrito, and gave me some kind of pain medication much stronger than Tylenol. I’d still need to go to the hospital at home to get checked out, but I could move more easily.
It took several more hours to get all the paperwork in order. I read over the documents and the statement they wanted me to make. It was all as Carla had described. I signed and just like that we could leave.
I killed a man, and we were able to walk out of the police station without even a slap on the wrist. None of it seemed real.
I couldn’t shake my suspicions. I knew I’d been placed on top of that cliff to do exactly what I did, to eliminate him from this situation, to help Giusy somehow get the rights to his land, to all of the money. I had no doubt that she would be the next in line to inherit.
Giusy had used me to commit the perfect crime.
The sun was barely over the horizon and the streets were empty except for the stray cats. I remembered Giusy’s warning to always be kind to the stray cats because they keep the souls of the dead. One of them nuzzled the back of my calf and when I flinched it swatted a sharp claw against my ankle, drawing blood. The souls of the dead. I thought of Nino.
Carla insisted I go straight to sleep but I wanted to get my things from the hotel myself. At the piazza I directed her to a bench where she could wait for me. Unlike the day I arrived, the front door to the Hotel Palazzo Luna was open, almost welcoming, but the lobby was empty. Every step upstairs brought a pain to my ribs, but I ignored it and continued to my room.
Giusy was stretched out on my bed, still as a corpse. For a moment I believed she might actually be dead and my heart quickened, but then I saw her chest rise and fall in an easy cadence and I knew she was simply waiting for me.
I let the heavy door slam to announce my presence, but she didn’t startle. She merely opened her eyes, propped herself up on her elbows, and gave me a nervy smile.
“You’re going to get your money,” she said.
I could have said I didn’t care about the money, that it was ridiculous to risk my life for some cash, that it was blood money now, but those were lies. I needed it.
“Good. I opened a bank account in Palermo. I’ll have my lawyer contact you and Raguzzo. You can wire it.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. She looked incredible, sleek as hell in a black silk bomber jacket and matching shiny black pants that stopped just below the knee. The perfect blend of tacky and chic. But I knew what to look for—the concealer caked over the purple circles beneath her eyes, the scratches at her ankles from walking through brush and thorns to surprise us at the top of the mountain and then to sneak away.
“You’re so formal now. You’ll have your lawyer contact me. Pah! I’ll make sure you get the money. They’ll start working on my side of the land transfer by tomorrow.” She lifted her jewel-encrusted vape pen to her lips and took a puff.
“You’re the owner of Nino’s land now.” I didn’t phrase it as a question.
“With Nino dead, I’m the beneficiary. He’s not legally married. His two older brothers are dead. I’m the next oldest cousin. It goes to me.”
“You knew they would never convict an American woman after she was attacked by a man, a criminal, here. You set this whole thing up from the beginning. You brought me here to kill him.”
“We killed him,” Giusy said.
“But no one knows that.”
“I know it and you know it. Remember what Luca said down at the restaurant. When he told you about how the fishermen here kill the tuna. They work together. They cooperate to herd them into the chamber of death. No one man can kill a tuna on his own, but together they succeed. Much like us.”
Giusy needed to say all this out loud. She needed to be seen. None of it would matter if she couldn’t share it with someone, if someone else didn’t see all the pieces she set in motion.
“We will get his money and money can equal power,” she whispered.
“We? You and I?”
“My daughter. Fina and I.”
The front of my throat tightened. I felt stunned. What the hell was she saying? It didn’t make any sense. “Fina is your daughter?”
