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“So it would seem.”
“But how? Jimmy will still be driving to Malibu over the canyons to meet Roland in Malibu somewhere, and he sent Jack and Mark back to Vegas with Tony. Big Mike sure as hell wouldn’t have helped him. Let’s face it, Roland couldn’t have moved Matt by himself.”
“How can you remember all those details?”
“Uh, actually, I remember almost everything. I have a photographic memory. That’s why school was so easy for me.”
“I’d like to hear more about that sometime, but I have to make an urgent call.”
“What about Matteus? Do you have any ideas?”
“I suspect Jimmy was ordered back, and he and Roland moved Matt before Roland came down the beach looking for me.”
“So… where’s Jimmy now? Did he take Matt’s body somewhere? And why? He wouldn’t be able to move him alone either.”
“Bianca, I’m asking myself all those questions, and several more, but I can’t talk about this right now,” Nick said firmly, rising to his feet. “I must make this call. It can’t wait.”
“Sorry, it’s such a puzzle, and my brain gets hooked on puzzles. I’ll find something to wear in the closet until John arrives with our things, then I’ll make us some coffee.”
“Coffee sounds great, and John will be able to give us more details about what he saw when he found Matteus was gone. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Where are you going?”
“Out to the car.”
“So I can’t hear you?” she asked with a grin.
He didn’t answer her, but grinned back, then hurried from the room and strode down the hall. She’d been right. He didn’t trust her. Even if he closed himself off in a room, she could stand at the door and try to listen.
Stepping outside, he paused his step to take a breath and collect his thoughts. The air was fresh and clear, the silver lining a storm always left in its wake. Though mystery continued to surround him, important elements were starting to fall into place. Stepping up to the car and climbing into the passenger seat, he called the number Lorenzo Albertini had texted him, praying the infamous mob boss would answer.
* * *
Though he’d tried to lose himself in his work, Lorenzo had realized it was pointless, and he wanted to be with his wife. Placing the burner phone in his pocket, he left orders not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency, then hurried through the house, up the stairs, and down the wide hall to his private suite. He found Ariana sitting on the window seat staring down at the backyard just as he had done from the living room earlier.
“Happy memories,” he remarked, walking across to join her.
“They are,” she mumbled, “and God willing, one of these days we’ll make more with our grandchildren, but why are you here? Is there news?”
“No news, but this is where I should be, with you. I know Bianca is safe, but my heart is still racing,” he said, sitting next to her. “I need you, and I’m sure you need me too.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Bianca was out of our sight for five minutes, and look what happened.”
“There were many times she was out of our sight for much longer than five minutes.”
“True, and how often did she leave without us even knowing? I can’t bear to—”
But the phone in his pocket rang, startling him and cutting her off.
“That’s strange,” he muttered, lifting it out as she moved her arms away. “This wasn’t supposed to ring until six o’clock.”
“Could it be someone else?”
“No, this is a new phone. Nick Vincelli is the only one with the number,” he replied hastily as he accepted the call. “Hello?”
“Mr. Albertini, I apologize for getting in touch earlier than planned. You don’t have to worry, Bianca is absolutely fine.”
“Nicholas, it’s been a long time, and thank you for saying that right off the bat. Hold on a moment,” Lorenzo said, then smiled at his wife. “Bianca’s fine, it’s about something else.”
