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An hour later, Agnes looked at the group crowded around her kitchen table stuffing their faces on a week’s worth of leftovers and thought, The Gang That Could Shoot Straight. One cop, two hit men, two mobsters, a mob princess, and a food columnist, plus an ancient bloodhound for a mascot; if Evie showed up, they could do Eight Is Enough. Without Evie, lucky seven. Please God.
Shane pushed his plate away and then caught sight of her face. “Agnes?”
My team. My family. “You okay?”
“I’m thinking.”
Frankie had spun them the sad story of how he’d lost the five million trying to swim across the Blood River in his escape from Brenda and her frying pan. He tried to make it an epic story of one man’s struggle against the flood, but it was basically one cheating goombah’s story of how his wife tried to kill him and he hit the road with five mil, which he lost because he couldn’t swim very well. The only thing that kept Agnes from killing him was that he was eating the entire time. You couldn’t kill somebody who was eating your food. There were rules about things like that.
When Frankie was done with his tall tale, Agnes looked across the table to Lisa Livia. “So. How are you doing?”
“I liked him better dead.”
Agnes nodded. “I’m starting to be grateful to mine for staying dead.”
“So, Frankie, the five million is gone,” Xavier said, shaking his head as she tried to offer him a deviled egg. “And you’ve just come home because you were so homesick.”
“He’s come home to roll on the Don,” Agnes said, and Shane winced.
“Could I talk to you for a minute?” he said, and she handed him the scalloped potatoes, figuring that would hold him for a while.
“No,” she said. “Xavier isn’t stupid and he’s going to notice I’m missing from his jail and he’s not going to buy any ‘she has to put on a wedding’ garbage. In fact, I’m willing to bet that’s why he’s here now, to arrest me for breaking out of jail and probably to take you in, too, just from sheer exasperation. So I think we tell him what the hell’s going on.”
She looked at Xavier. “Shane works for the government. He’s trying to keep Frankie alive to testify against the Don. Frankie wants to see
Maria get married and then he’s going into the Witness Protection Program. He won’t testify until the wedding is over, so the wedding has to go off tomorrow, then he testifies, then the Don goes to jail and Frankie disappears, and Palmer and Maria go off to wedded bliss. Since Frankie is here, we’re going to use him to rattle Brenda. Nobody’s managed to make a dent in her so far, but Frankie showing up alive should do it. That might help you get a confession out of her that she killed Taylor, which you know she did.” She stopped for a minute, pretending to think, and did a quick survey of the assembled team. They were all looking at her with various degrees of admiration and relief. What, she thought You thought I was going to tell him that Shane was a hitman? Am I nuts? “I think that’s it,” she finished. “Any questions?”
Xavier looked at Shane. “And you’ve known all of this from the beginning.”
“National security,” Shane said.
“Fucking FBI,” Xavier said.
“Not quite,” Shane said. “But close enough.”
“So why didn’t I get a visit from men in black suits telling me that I had to let Agnes go?”
“You did,” Shane said. “I just don’t own a suit, and I don’t talk much.”
“I’ll need to see some identification,” Xavier said, and Agnes thought, Oh, hell, but Shane took him aside while Joey and Frankie exchanged one of those glances again.
Agnes poked Joey hard in the side. “What aren’t you telling Shane?”
Joey pushed his plate away. “He don’t want to know.”
“I have news for you,” Agnes said. “He wants to know. You explode one more bomb under him, he’s going to explode. I’ve never seen him lose it, but I’ve seen him when he doesn’t lose it, and he’s scary as hell. You tell him everything now, or?—”
“Okay,” Xavier said, coming back. “I’ll hold the arrest warrant.” He looked at Agnes. “You will not leave the jurisdiction.”
“Hell, Xavier,” Agnes said. “I won’t leave Two Rivers. Do you have any idea what tomorrow—no, today, it’s Saturday already—is going to be like around here?”
Xavier looked grim, which meant he had a good idea, and picked up his hat. “Good luck to you.” He turned for the door.
“Hold it,” Agnes said, and he turned back. “You’re not going anywhere. I want Brenda arrested and in an orange jumpsuit by Sunday. We need you on this. Sit down and eat.”
“Agnes,” Shane said.
“We need a plan,” Agnes said. “And we need the law in on it. What do we need to nail Brenda Fortunato for good?”
