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“Brad, Matteus Anderson is dead,” he declared, moving to the refrigerator.
“Crap, what happened?”
“He had some kind of attack when Roland was questioning him,” Nick replied, pulling two bottles of beer from the refrigerator. “Roland refused to give Matt his pills until he talked, and he died. I heard the whole thing,” Nick said with a deep frown, then handed Brad a beer, popped the top on his, and took a long drink. “I don’t know how Matteus got into that house, but I suspect Roland will leave him there, and when the body is found the police will be all over it. Bianca and I can’t stay here.”
“When will you leave?”
“Tonight,” Nick said decisively. “I don’t think Roland suspects me of anything, but he’ll leave someone behind to keep watch. I know that’s what I would do.”
“Maybe you should switch cars.”
“I was just about to say that,” Nick replied, taking another drink.
“Are you going back to your sister’s house?”
“Yeah, but right now I need to make a very important call, then have a serious talk with my fiancée,” Nick said gravely.
“You said that like you’re actually engaged.”
Nick grinned. “I’m practicing. It has to sound authentic.”
“Ah, I see,” Brad replied with a chuckle, then took a swig of beer. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Thanks, Brad. Talk to you soon.”
Waiting until he heard the door open and close, Nick took another drink, gathered his thoughts, then set the bottle on the counter and lifted his phone from his pocket. For a moment he hesitated, then punched in the number.
“Jimmy here.”
“Jimmy, it’s Nick.”
There was a pause.
“Nick? Fuck.”
“I need to talk to him.”
“Let me see if he’s—”
“Hey, Jimmy, I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry, hold on.”
As long seconds ticked by, Nick searched for another way, but he knew there wasn’t one.
“Nicholas.”
“Hi, Dad, thanks for picking up the phone.”
“We may have our differences, but you’re still my son. What do you need?”
“A safe conduit to Lorenzo Albertini.”
CHAPTER13
While she was waiting on the patio for Nick to join her, Bianca cast her eyes to the house next door. Roland had stepped out on the terrace, and as she turned her head, he waved. She waved back. When he strolled across to the side railing as if inviting her to chat, she quickly climbed off the deck chair and moved inside. Closing and locking the French doors behind her, she changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and T-shirt, but wondering why Nick was taking so long she set out to look for him. Not finding him in any of the bedrooms on the second floor, she began to worry.
“Nick?” she called, trotting down the stairs.
