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Niallan nods. “So am I. I’m not sure exactly what happened or why that was turned off. I guess it’s just another thing I have to look into.”
“I can look into it.” I don’t know if I can or not, but I’d like to try to help.
Niallan’s lips thin as he studies me. “I don’t think the company will give you any information. It took me days of going back and forth, getting documentation and more information to get them to talk to me. What I need is information from Dad, but he’s not giving anything up.”
“Let me see what I can do. He almost talked to me last time.” Maybe I’ll fail, but I want to try.
Niallan shrugs. “I’m up for anything. If you can get him to talk, then get him to talk. We need to know what we’re up against.”
I have a plan. I can't cook, but maybe Cohen will help me figure out how to get something edible here for Mr. Foster. I need to charm him like I've never charmed anyone before. Our lives are at risk, and if I don't get this right, we could be attacked again. And next time, we may not live.
ChapterTen
Adali
Cohen suggested a place to order food. By the time Mr. Foster makes it downstairs, we have soup, some beef dish, a casserole, and something sweet for dessert. My hands shake a little as I lead Mr. Foster to his chair. I'm not sure he'll take my bait if this doesn't work. He is having issues keeping up with events, so I might trick him into talking later.
At first, he won't speak, but he seems more open by the time we get to the casserole. I have to approach this gently, or I'll spook him. We need information, and I can't afford to have him clam up.
“I’ve not had a meal this good in a while,” I say as I think of the fat attaching to my waistline. I’ll need to use that gym for sure. I don’t know why I’m worrying about weight right now. Maybe it’s because my family has been awful. We have a more important crisis than me gaining a few pounds.
I glance at Mr. Foster, knowing I need to broach the subject soon. He wouldn't talk to me earlier, but maybe I can ease it out of him. He glances up, and I shoot a warm smile his way.
“How long have you known my father?”
Mr. Foster sits back and blinks at me. "I don't know. A lot is going on. I'm not sure who your father is."
I wonder if I should mention Eric Gale. That set him off last time. Maybe I should go for another subject.
“When you were at Stonewall, how was that?”
"Oh dear, Stonewall. What an experience." He takes a bite of food then sits back, eyes on the ceiling. "I guess I should have considered leaving, but I joined the group, and I was hooked. The things I've done." He chuckles and takes another bite before pinning me with a hard stare. "But I'll tell you one thing, that Eric Gale is a crafty one.”
“Really?” I don’t let on that’s who I want to talk about.
“Yes. And you’d best remember it. When you join, son, you’re going to have to watch for him. He has eyes and ears everywhere.”
He's confused, but I don't think it's time to tell him I'm not his son and that I'm Eric Gale's adopted daughter.
“What did he find out?”
Mr. Foster sits up and leans over his bowl of soup. I think I’ve lost him. I hate taking advantage of an older person whose mind isn’t quite on top of things, but we need to know what happened. A full minute passes before Mr. Foster starts talking again.
"I've had dealings with the Italians for a few decades. When they came to me before you were born, I took on their business. They needed some assets cleaned. I scraped off a little, not much. Just a few dollars here and there, but it has grown to be a sizable nest egg over the forty years I've worked with them. Gale found out. I don't know how, but he figured it out and threatened me. I made a deal."
"What deal?" I had to know. This involved me, and I wanted to find out what Eric had done.
He blinks like he’s seeing me and not Niallan for the first time since we started eating. His forehead wrinkles as he squints. “I’ve said too much. I’ll be dead soon.”
His statement sends a shock through me. “What do you mean?”
He sighs and sits back, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to tell him. You’ll tell him, won’t you?”
This is it…maybe. I need to know more. “If you tell me what it is, yes, I’ll tell him.”
"I have cancer. You're the first person I've told. My doctor knows, but of course, she does."
“So not Doctor Ashley?” I ask.
