I look at Dominic who is on his third scone. Damn this man can eat. “Do you have any pictures from the wedding or the guest list?”
Rosa scratches her head. “I might…I don’t know. It’s probably in one of the many boxes in my basement. I can take a look and mail you a copy of what I find, but it might take a few days.”
“Would you be able to scan the stuff and email it to me? That would be quicker,” I plea. “This is a matter of life and death. It’s really important we figure out who’s behind this before it’s too late.”
A confused look crosses her face. “I’m old-fashioned dear. I don’t have a computer. Those things scare me. But my neighbor has one and is very good with technology. I could probably ask him to help me.”
“Excellent.” Grabbing a piece of paper, I scribble down my email address. “Anything you can find, please send it to me.”
“I will.”
“Thank you,” I stand up and shake her hand. “I promise we won’t bother you again. As far as the world knows, Rosa Marconi doesn’t exist.”
“Grazie.”
After saying goodbye we get back in the car and drive back to Chicago.
The sun has risen higher in the sky, casting a warm golden hue across the highway. The trees lining the road blur together in streaks of yellow, orange, and brown as we head south. Itfeels like time passes by quicker on the ride home than traveling there. Silence fills the space as Dominic and I are lost in our own thoughts trying to make sense of the conversation with Rosa Marconi.
Dominic drums his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Are you okay?” I look at him.
He glances at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “Yeah. I’m just trying to make sense of all this.”
“I didn’t think you were even paying attention with the way you were gobbling down those scones.”
He gives me a look. “I was hungry.”
“There could have been poison in them.”
“But there wasn’t, Cipi. Come on, that little lady looked like she wanted to die when she heard your name. She didn’t have time to make poisonous scones.”
“I guess you’re right.” I lean back in my seat. “I just wish we could get some answers. We have so many pieces to this, but none of them seem to fit together.”
“Well, we do know that all of this is about Francesca’s death and your father eliminating a whole mafia family. Whoever is behind this wants your father to pay for what he did and avenge Francesca.”
I take the last sip of my coffee now lukewarm but still sweet. “Aldo did a great job of making sure no one in the family knew he was the one who murdered his own sister. That’s so fucked up. How could someone murder their own sibling?”
“Did you know Aldo was about fifteen years older than Francesca? I doubt they were close. He was his father’s golden boy and he had a lot of people in his corner who would do anything for him with no questions asked.”
I tap the center console. “I think someone who was close to Francesca, and survived the Marconi Massacre, is the one whomurdered my father. They knew that her relationship with him is what got her killed.”
Dominic glances over at me. “If the person’s goal was to get back at your father, it was accomplished with the poisoning. Why would they start trying to eliminate your family a decade later? Shouldn’t they have just killed everyone back then? No offense.”
I cross my arms. “None taken. I don’t know. This is so confusing. I can’t believe all this death and violence is because of love.”
“Some of the most violent acts have been committed for love,” Dominic adds. “It could have been jealousy too, you know. Maybe someone else wanted Francesca and was mad your dad got her.”
I stare out the windshield. The highway stretches before us like a ribbon of unresolved questions. “I’ve gone over everyone’s files. No one in our family has any association to the Marconi Family. Even our allies and partnerships don’t have a connection to that family. Madeline was the only one.”
“We’ll figure this out, Cipi. One way or another, we’ll put an end to this.” Dominic reaches over and pats my leg.
The Chicago skyline appears in the distance when my phone rings. “It’s Lucia.”
“Cipi!” The terror in Lucia’s voice makes my heart sink.
“What’s wrong?” I cry.
