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We drive to Father Lorenzo’s church, Gigi’s arms trustingly wrapped around my waist, her head on my shoulder. It’s reassuring to feel her so tight up against me, living and breathing. Early morning Saturday traffic is thankfully lighter than usual, and we make good time, arriving just as mass is ending and Father Lorenzo’s few, loyal parishioners are leaving. We park in the back, keeping our helmets on until the compound is empty. Then we make our way to the rectory.
Father Lorenzo is putting books away when I knock on the door, but when he turns around, his face lights up. “Giada! Romano! You made it.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah. We made it. Not thanks to you,Padre.”
He frowns. “What do you mean by that?”
“You couldn’t have told me that Gigi was going to fake her death?”
He continued to look puzzled. “…did Eric not tell you?”
“Ericknew?”
“Yes of course he did. I told him the plan and asked him to pass it on to you as soon as you arrived. He promised me he would…”
Giada and I exchange glances. “No, Father. He didn’t tell me anything about fake deaths. All he said was that there was a plan, and I should be ready to act. Then he took my weapons and gave me a gun with no bullets.”
“And thank God he did.” Gigi says vehemently, shuddering slightly, “I might have woken up to your brains splattered all over my bed.”
Father Lorenzo frowns, skirting around his desk as he comes towards us, “I do not understand this. He should have told you everything so that you were aware. I would never have sent you to her knowing you would find her in that state, unaware. I am not that cruel. You have to believe me, Romano.” He clasps his hands in front of him, looking earnest and sincere.
I nod. “I know. I figured it might have been Eric’s doing. Maybe he’s still mad at me about Mark, or maybe he had other reasons.”
“Well… that would be very unfortunate, because I was relying on his role as mediator for this next part.” Father Lorenzo says ruefully.
“And what part is that?” I ask.
The priest sighs. “Come, let’s go to my rooms so we can sit down, be comfortable and talk over some coffee.”
“Oh good. I think I need something to drink.” Gigi says.
I give her a concerned glance. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. My mouth’s just a bit dry.”
Father Lorenzo nods. “Yes, that can happen with belladonna. Come on then, time’s running short.” He leads the way out of the room and down the corridor to his private quarters. We follow behind meekly, holding hands like lost children, waiting for the adult in the room to tell us what to do.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
“Could you do me a favor, Father Lorenzo? There was a shooting this morning at my house. Could you find out who it was?”
He stares at me, puzzled. Then he frowns. “I’m not sure who I can ask about that…”
“What about Eric? Maybe you can also find out why he didn’t tell Romano about the plan.”
The priest looks down into his cup of coffee. “Very well, I shall call him. Excuse me.”
He takes his cup and his phone and leaves the room. I meet Romano’s gaze and shrug. “Best to get the information as soon as possible.”
“I agree.”
I look down at his untouched cup. “Not feeling that coffee?”
He snorts, “Not feeling much of anything right now. I’m not even sure I’m alive. Maybe I really did kill myself and this is heaven.”
I grin at him. “Why not hell?”
He gives me a serious look, “Becauseyou’rehere.”
