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“Oh, God.” Donna broke. She was sobbing so hard it was difficult to understand her words. “Lina. She doesn’t know anything about the real circumstances of h

er birth. How are we going to tell her? This is going to destroy her and our relationship with her.”

Joseph made a pained sound. “We can’t think about that yet—not until we get at the full truth. Remember, there are criminal actions involved here. We both suspected that from the start.”

“I didn’t want to know then, and I don’t want to know now.”

“We don’t have that choice anymore. We must find out what we’re dealing with.”

“How do you suggest we do that? Angelo is gone. We have no other ties to the truth.”

“The only person who might know anything is Jimmy. As a kid, he was like a shadow, following Angelo around. And he worshipped the ground his big brother walked on. Maybe, just maybe, Angelo said something to him.”

“Do you think so?” Donna had moved on to grasping at anything to make this go away.

“I don’t know. Angelo wasn’t the type to confide in anyone. I was his closest friend and he said nothing to me about triplets. Maybe because I was involved, maybe for some other reason.”

A loud squeak from the couch told Ryan that Joseph was standing up.

“We can talk this to death,” Joseph said. “But there’s Lina to consider. And Forensic Instincts is moving forward on whatever they’re investigating, which could reveal too much. I’ve got to get whatever answers I can, as fast as I can.” A nanosecond of a pause. “I’m calling Jimmy. I want a meeting. Now.”

Ryan leaned forward, listening intently. He would only get one end of the conversation. But that was enough for his needs.

Even as he waited, he was typing rapidly into his laptop, seeing what he could dig up on Jimmy Colone, and wondering why he hadn’t shown up in any of Ryan’s previous searches. Probably because Ryan had been digging into Angelo Colone’s mob connections, not his separate personal life. All he’d found on the personal front was that Angelo was a widower of many years, he’d never remarried, and he’d never had kids. So while his public persona was dominant, his private life was seemingly not noteworthy.

Seemingly. Because evidently he had a younger brother who was way under the radar.

Before Ryan could dig up anything of substance, Joseph’s voice resumed.

“It’s me,” he said. “You and I need to talk. Where are you? Fine. Meet me at Angelo’s mausoleum in an hour. I’m leaving now.” Another pause, during which Joseph had to be disconnecting the call.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Donna asked.

“No. Jimmy will be more apt to open up to me if we’re alone.” A quick peck on the cheek. “Let me get moving. You sit tight and I’ll call you as soon as I’m done.”

“Okay.” Donna sounded like she was still a mess. “But please, Joseph. Make this go away. For Lina’s sake.”

It was a ridiculous request and they both knew it.

“I will,” Joseph promised anyway.

* * *

Ryan called Casey, simultaneously searching the web to find the location of Angelo’s burial site.

“You heard something?” Casey answered from the van, putting Ryan on speakerphone so that Marc could listen.

“Oh, yeah.” Ryan told them what had transpired. “Ah,” he said aloud. “I’ve got it.”

“Got what?” Marc asked.

“The information on Angelo Colone’s mausoleum.” He filled them in as quickly as possible. “Where’s Patrick?”

“At the office,” Casey replied. “He’s been on the phone all morning, trying to locate any of his former law enforcement contacts who might remember something about Anthony and Carla Pontis’ murders. No luck yet.”

“Okay. He can keep making his calls while he drives. I need his eyes and ears at Brando’s meeting.”

“I agree. Go ahead. Call and give him the cemetery address.”

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