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“You take care too.”
His words have a ring of finality, but he doesn’t end the call. He leaves the sad task of cutting the ties to me.
I press the red button and hand the phone to Angelo.
Something akin to victory washes over his expression even as he asks with uncharacteristic compassion, “You okay?”
“Was that your goal? To show me Colin never wants to hear from me again?”
He cups my cheek. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I just needed to be sure how you feel about him.”
“I always loved him as a friend. You know that.”
He presses a kiss on my forehead. “Wait for me,cara.”
The words conjure a memory of the day he came to my house with gifts for Pirate, asking me to wait for him. And I did. I waited. I never stopped waiting, not even after he betrayed me. But all that is in the past, and I’m ready to move on.
Before I can formulate a reply, he sets me free. He hesitates only for a second, and then he goes to that place I saw in his eyes, the one that made him look so tormented.
ChapterTwenty
Angelo
On my way back to the old house, I dial my driver, Waldo, and instruct him to fetch the kids when the school comes out at four. The cleanup team has enough time to take care of the cellar before the kids arrive home. Then I call the man I put in charge of keeping an eye on Daisy and Laura’s whereabouts.
“They boarded a private yacht for Bonifacio. I’m driving there as we speak. I should be there in an hour.”
“Do we have eyes on the yacht?”
“Yes, sir. The drone pilot is on it.”
“Good. Let me know where they stay and who they meet. I want every detail down to what they order for breakfast.”
“Consider it done, sir.”
I leave the car in the garage and make my way straight to the jetty. The skipper waits on the yacht. A storm is building on the sea, but I’m in too much of a rush to organize a plane. By the time I’ve secured a pilot and he’s drawn up a flight plan, I could’ve already been in Marseille with the yacht.
Both the skipper and I are experienced at the helm. This won’t be the first storm we navigate. We check the weather forecast before figuring out the best route. If we go south before cutting west, we’ll avoid the worst of the storm.
The skipper takes the first shift. While he mans the bridge, I make a few phone calls in the lounge. It doesn’t take long to find out where Hugo hangs out. After putting the necessary measures in place, I call my informant who infiltrated my uncle’s team, but he’s none the wiser. He tells me that Uncle Nico is careful, keeping a tight lid on his business.
When I hang up, I dial Uncle Nico.
“What’s going on, Angelo?” he asks. “Toma just told me Lieutenant Lavigne paid your wife a visit.” A small hesitation follows before he adds in a sly tone, “I hope she didn’t betray you.”
The glee in his voice rubs me up the wrong way. “Is Toma always reporting back to you?”
He coughs. “Of course not. We happened to talk this morning.”
“Another one of your convenient coincidences,” I muse.
“We talked about the wedding,” he says, sounding wounded. “Are you accusing me of something?”
Not yet. “Any word from Marziale?”
“I think he got your message. There’s been no more suspicious activity at the warehouses or the docks.”
“Keep tabs on him. Let me know if anything changes.”
