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“Sit,” she orders, pointing to the chair behind the desk.
I do as she says, aware that arguing with her will only make the situation more painful. Ever since we made her a part of the family, she’s assumed authority over us.
First she hands me two large white pills and a bottle of water. While I’d prefer whiskey to help with the numbing, I’ll take what I can get now.
After I’ve taken the pain meds, she begins to tug out square cotton pads and peroxide. This is going to hurt like hell.
“Your wife came down earlier,” she says, working on some nicks on my forehead. “She was wearing one of your T-shirts again.”
“Mmm,” I grunt.
“Now, you know I don’t like to meddle.” She gives me a sour look when I roll my eyes at her statement. “Where are that girl’s clothes?”
“Why? Is she going somewhere?”
Nan purses her lips. “Not dressed like that, I suppose.” She continues to work. “Just answer this. Is she a prisoner?”
“Nan,” I say in a tone laced with warning.
She stops what she’s doing and lowers her head so that her gaze meets mine dead-on. “Luca, are you keeping her against her will?”
“Are the doors locked?”
“No.”
Shrugging, I say, “Then she can leave anytime she wants.”
“I’ve known you for a long time, child.” She clucks her tongue and shakes her head. “Something isn’t right.”
I’m about to reply to that when I realize what she’s said. She’s known me for a long time. Known my father even longer. There’s a reason why we take great precautions in who we trust to come into our home. In what staff we hire.
It doesn’t matter that the doors are closed or that we speak in hushed voices. They hear things. They see even more.
Nan has been here enough years that she might have inadvertently come across information that can help me.
“Did you ever hear my father speak of the Ferryman?” I ask her. When she doesn’t answer right away, I say, “You keep many of our secrets. I know you know things.”
She frowns and swallows hard, then continues to dab at my skin. “I’m very discreet,” she says shakily.
“Nan, I’m not threatening you. If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be asking you in the first place.”
“I heard the name,” she finally admits. “But not from your father. It was Tony.”
“He mentioned it to you?” This surprises me greatly.
“No. I overheard his heated discussion with someone. I’m sorry, but he was on the phone, and when he realized I’d come into the office, he sent me away.”
“Can you tell me what he said?”
Her hand pauses as she seems to struggle with the memory. “He said the Ferryman had come to collect. ‘The Sinacores are not going to pay for your mistake,’ he said. That’s all I caught before I left the room.”
I stare ahead at the painting of my father that hangs over the fireplace. Tony barely resembled him, even in appearance. He was the better man.
What did he know? Who had he been speaking with?
“Nan.” I take her wrist. “I want you to take some time off. Plan a trip somewhere. I’ll put money in your account to cover a few weeks.”
Her frown lines deepen. “Is it that bad?”
