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“How so?”
I shrugged.
“You can tell me, Beth,” Al said, like he was one of my best friends.
I sighed. “Like, it wasn’t very passionate,” I said.
“Did you ever think about leaving Michael?”
I looked down at my hands. The tasteful diamond on my left finger glittered cheaply in the fluorescent light of the room.
“No,” I said honestly. “Sometimes I wished that he would be more affectionate with me. But overall, I was grateful to him. He cared for me and provided for me. He wasn’t the kind of guy to come home with flowers and candy, but that didn’t really matter. I appreciated that he never put on airs to impress me.”
“And was Michael faithful to you?”
I cringed. “Most of the time,” I said slowly. “Why?”
“How did that make you feel?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What is this?” I demanded. “Why are you trying to make me look bad here?”
“Beth, I’m not,” Al said. “I’m just trying to get all the details I can.”
I sighed. “No, he slept with other women sometimes,” I said. “But it was my job not to mind. Michael told me he wanted a wife, and I don’t even know how many times he cheated. But he saw it as a man’s right – he told me that he had freedom, since he provided for me. I never cheated on him, though. I never even though about it.”
Al nodded. “I know this has been a long ordeal for you,” he said. He flipped his notebook closed. “You can go, Beth. I’m sorry.”
I shuddered. “Do you…do you have any idea who might be behind this?”
Al narrowed his eyes. “We do,” he said. “But nothing is certain yet.”
“Can you tell me?” I asked quietly. “Please, I really need to know. I won’t be able to sleep unless I find out who killed my fiancé.”
“Nothing is certain yet,” Al repeated. “But I think Michael’s death had something to do with the Amoruso crime family.”
My stomach flipped and twisted and for a moment, I thought I was going to throw up. I leaned over and put my face between my knees, retching and coughing.
“What?” I asked in a strained whisper. “The people who own those restaurants?”
Al nodded. “They’re not just in the restaurant business,” he said gently. “They’re drug traffickers, and they have known ties with Michael’s father’s business.”
My jaw dropped. “Douglas?”
Al nodded. “Yes,” he said. He checked his watch. “Beth, I need to be getting on to my next interview,” he said. “Is there anything else?”
My head was spinning and filled with questions, but I couldn’t find the words to articulate any of them. How the hell did they already know that Michael had been killed by the mafia?
And why would the mafia want to hurt Michael?
“No,” I said softly. “That’s all.”
--
Heather took me home and put me in bed, but I couldn’t sleep. I was lying there under the covers, crying and wishing that I’d realize this had all been a bad dream. It seemed impossible to me that my whole life had changed and flipped upside down in such a short amount of time. I felt dizzy and shaky and scared.
Suddenly, Al’s words came rushing back to me. The Amoruso crime family, he’d said. And Douglas has ties with them.
Shaking nervously, I crawled out of bed and changed into a clean pair of jeans and a shirt. It was late at night – past midnight – but I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax until I’d talked with Douglas. I grabbed my keys and drove across town, to the palatial mansion where Douglas lived with his second wife, Gabrielle.
