This had to be about Benny. And right now, anything about Benny that didn’t come straight from Hector wasn’t good.
Mom exhaled. I imagined white smoke streaming from her lips. It was something I’d seen so many times, I almost felt nostalgic for it. It was so familiar. Comforting, even.
“The man who called. Keep up, Lennon. Honestly, talking to you is an uphill battle,” she snapped.
That was familiar, too. But a lot less comforting.
“Okay, Mom. Did he leave a name or a phone number where I can reach him? Can you tell me exactly what he said?”
“Hm. You know, he didn’t leave a name. That’s odd. Maybe I missed it. I wasn’t feeling well when he called, so it was hard to concentrate?—”
“Mom.” I rubbed my temple. “What did he say?”
“Just that no one has heard from you in almost a month and they’re all worried you might be in trouble or something. He gave me his number so I could call him in case you turned up.”
I frowned. That was odd. “He wants you to call him? Not me?”
“That’s what he said. He was afraid you’d be mad at people checking up on you. Miss Independent.” She cackled. “That’s you, all right. Always too big for your britches. Can never admit when you bit off more than you could chew.”
My jaw clenched. “Did he say anything else?” I ground out.
“No, that was it. So, what’s going on? Where are you? Are you in trouble?” The genuine concern in her voice eased some of the tension in my jaw.
“I’m fine, Mom. Just taking a vacation, that’s all.”
“Ohhh, a vacation,” she sing-songed. “Must be nice.”
My teeth clacked together again. “Itisnice,” I said defiantly.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not in trouble. I thought you might be, because he sounded like a mobster.”
I rolled my eyes. “And what does a mobster sound like, Mom?”
“You know. That New Jersey accent.” Another long exhale of smoke. “Italian.”
“Well, that’s not offensive at all,” I muttered.
“Oh, don’t be so high and mighty. Stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason.”
I kept my mouth shut about stones and glass trailer houses, and I didn’t bother to explain that technically, the mafia was a Sicilian thing. That would only give her the opportunity to insult Sicilians.
“Well, thanks for passing on the message, Mom. If he calls again, tell him I’m in the Finger Lakes.”
“I’ll do that.” She dragged on her cigarette. “You know, I had to take a sick day because of his phone call. I was already feeling off, and then he called and got me all worried about you. If I don’t work, I don’t get paid, you know.”
And there it was. Every phone call came with a price. “I’ll wire you money.”
I hung up, my stomach twisting, and immediately called Hector. “What the hell is going on? Is Benny okay? People are calling my mom looking for me. Mymom, Hector,” I hissed. “You tell them that if they go anywhere near her, I’ll?—”
“Calm down, honey.” I had always hated beingcalled that, but I hated it even more now that I knew how good it sounded coming from Jeremiah’s lips. “Your mom is fine. It was just the feds trying to get information, because Benny’s not giving them nothin’. They thought he’d plead out and give them the names they really want, but Benny’s not a snitch. Stay low, do what I told you, and everything will be all right.”
“Okay.”
I believed him, but I didn’t trust him, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
“Wow, you’re pretty.”A girl I presumed to be Blair, Emma’s thirteen-year-old daughter, scrutinized my face with eyes the same pretty green as her mom’s before hollering over her shoulder, “Mom! Your friend is here! Can I do your makeup?” she asked as she turned back to me.
“Um, sure?” I stepped inside.
