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“You’re missing the point, Frankie,” Shane said, thinking it probably wasn’t the first time. “But I’m a lot more interested in your first lie.”
“Hey,” Frankie said, and bit into the rib.
“The one about how you came back for Maria’s wedding.” Shane met the old man’s dark shark eyes, hooded now as he bent over to demolish the rib. “You didn’t come home for the wedding; you came home to turn state’s evidence. You came home to roll on the Don. Which means you’re the one he hired Casey Dean to hit.”
“Ah, fuck.” Frankie dropped the stripped rib bone on his plate, annoyed. “Goddamn Wilson must be getting old, he leaks stuff like that.”
Silent Carpenter got more silent as Shane shut down any reaction he might have had, to say, “He is.”
Frankie reached for another rib, shaking his head, and Lisa Livia got up and headed for the microwave with the entire bowl of gravy.
“Save some for me,” Agnes said, dropping into the chair on the other side of Joey.
“Get two straws,” Lisa Livia said, and slung the bowl into microwave.
Shane turned to look at Carpenter. Fucking Wilson knew. Carpenter met his eyes for a long moment and then nodded and headed for the basement with the body bag, moving past Frankie without looking at him.
“That means that body bag over Carpenter’s shoulder is your fault,” Shane said. “In fact, we can pretty much trace the entire body count back to you.”
“Now wait just a fuckin’ minute,” Frankie said, trying to look indignant with barbecue sauce on his face.
“So now you make it up to us,” Agnes said quietly from her seat beside Joey.
Frankie said, “Huh?” and Shane almost did, too, but Joey just put his hand on the back of her chair, one hundred percent behind her as always.
“We have many problems, Frankie,” Agnes said, calmer now. “I need this wedding to happen tomorrow. Shane needs to take out Casey Dean. Lisa Livia lost everything she had and more when Brenda emptied the accounts she managed.” Frankie turned to LL as she sat down with her hot plate and heated gravy, but Agnes kept on talking. “And Brenda needs to go down for Taylor’s murder. So you’re going to help us with all of that.”
“How?” Frankie said, mystified but not unwilling.
“You’re going to give the bride away tomorrow,” Agnes said.
“Yeah?” Frankie brightened. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“That should slow Brenda down long enough that with any luck she won’t kill anybody during the ceremony,” Agnes went on. “If we get real lucky, she’ll have a heart attack.”
“Hell, yes.” Frankie wiped his fingers on the napkins Lisa Livia had dumped by his plate. “You got a tux for me?”
“You can use the Don’s,” Joey said with an undercurrent in his voice that Shane knew was important, but not as important as the fact that Wilson was lucking them over for some reason.
The son of a bitch had known all along. What else had he known? What other games was he playing? And why was he playing games at all?
“Plus if you show up in the open as Frankie Fortunato,” Agnes went on, “that’ll draw Casey Dean out in the open, too, so Shane can care of him, so that’ll finally be done.”
“Good,” Frankie said, nodding as he reached for the turkey. “That’s good.”
Agnes was on a roll. “Of course you might get shot, but you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs.” She handed him a plate of deviled eggs. “Have one.”
“Hey,” Frankie said, frowning.
“And as for Lisa Livia, what did you do with the five million, Frankie?” Agnes asked, an edge in her voice Shane had never heard before. Maybe something about fathers lying to daughters, he thought now, maybe something about too many lies. “Because Lisa Livia needs some of it and you’re going to give it to her.”
Lisa Livia sat very still across from Frankie, watching, her fork poised above her plate.
“The five million. Oh, that’s a sad story,” Frankie said, mixing Irish and Jersey and sounding like a lying bastard.
Rhett lifted his head and barked at the back door.
“Already I know you’re lying, Frankie,” Xavier said from the doorway.
