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Hard to believe Clarissa would threaten to go to the Feds about the organization. Does she have any idea how stupid that would be? She wouldn’t get more than five minutes into her statement before she was wiped out.
I have to talk to her. Warn her the trouble she’s stirring up isn’t worth it.
I close my eyes, the phone call with Imelda running through my mind.
“You should kill her for the threat alone.”
I looked across at Isobel sitting with her therapist, who is pretty much a surrogate grandmother at this point. She smiled at me and then continued with her session.
I walked through to the bedroom and closed the door, pulling a case out from under the bed, opening it ready to pack. I knew what was coming, and I was right.
“She wants you to talk to her,” Imelda continued down the line. “You willing to do it?”
“Why’d she make a threat like that? It wouldn’t have come from nowhere.”
“No idea. I’m guessing she’s pissed at you for having a new life and wants to get back at you. Maybe see you and me locked up.”
“There must be a way of resolving this without me going to see her.”
“Got to be in person. It’s that or I arrange for someone else to kill her. Would you prefer that?”
“What am I supposed to say when I get there?”
“I recommend killing her when you get there. You are a killer, after all.”
“I’m retired, remember?”
“So what do you want to do?”
I open my eyes and I’m back in my seat on the plane, the memory still vivid. Is this what I want to do? Persuade her to keep her mouth shut about all this?
It should be a brief visit. Once I make clear in person the risk she’s running, I’m sure she’ll give up on the stupid idea of talking to the authorities. It would make her life as bad as Imelda’s. They’d look into her inheritance and delve into where it came from. Take it all, leave her with nothing.
Did she take it? Imelda refused to say, just kept evading the question when I asked about it. For all I know, she never touched a cent. Would make sense. She’s got some standards. Unlike me.
Get there. Give her a stern talking to. Get back to Milan. Never see her again. Simple.
* * *
I’m in my car outside her place, thinking how different it is to the last time I was here. Then I was waiting for the right opportunity to make a hit. I didn’t know Sophie existed. Didn’t know who’d organized the contract. Lost all my money. Isobel was still locked away from me.
So different now.
I get out of the car, walking straight up to her front door. I knock and wait. It swings open a moment later, but it’s not Clarissa answering. “Can I help you?” Maddy asks.
“Is Clarissa here?”
“She’s just putting Sophie to bed. You better come in.”
I feel a strange tug like the undertow of the tide, pulling me toward my daughter’s bedroom.
I fight the sensation, swimming against the tide until I get my butt on the couch. “Coffee?” Maddy asks.
“Got anything stronger?”
“Bourbon?”
“Thanks.”
