Tex burst out laughing. “Look, I think it’s a solid plan, just…” He hesitated, like he was actually thinking before speaking, which was a rarity. This was Tex. Not Nixon. “Prepare yourself for bad news, people disappear all the time, you know? Without rhyme or reason, and although you have creepy as hell computer skills, you don’t even know her last name.”
“I didn’t say that,” I said slowly. “I never once said I didn’t have her last name.”
“Well, do you?” he countered, avoiding the question altogether. “Have her last name?”
“No.” I sighed. “But, I’m sure if I track Val’s bank account history along with her uncles, look through school records, it’ll be easy.”
Tex rose from his chair and slapped me on the back. “You’re probably right. Good hunting.”
“Thanks,” I muttered while he walked out, leaving the door wide open. Minutes later Val knocked.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
“Sure.” Thank God she’d changed into sweats. All bets would have been off if she still had that bikini on. It had fit every luscious curve, every expanse of skin. Shit, there I went again, losing control.
“I was going to make dinner, anything you want?”
“Cookies?”
Laughing, she started to walk out. “Those are for dessert.”
“Or,” I added, “We eat them now and come up with our own dessert for later?”
“I think a pot roast,” she said, completely ignoring me as she headed out the door. “Sounds… mmm… juicy.”
“You’re killing me!” I yelled after her.
“Get used to it!” she called back.
Damn it. Round two went to Val.
THREE HOURS LATER, Val brought food into my office, I was hunched over my computer typing vigorously away and I still hadn’t located any info on her best friend. It was literally like she didn’t exist. But she’d have to be brilliant to wipe her own school records, unless someone did it for her.
“Hey.” Val plopped down in one of the chairs. “I already ate. I didn’t want to bother you, but here’s some food.” She pointed to the plate. “I have cookies for you when you’re done.”
I forced an exhausted smile. “Great, thanks.”
She frowned, then stood and walked over to me, leaning over my shoulder. Normally it pissed me off, people looking over my shoulder at my own shit. That was my domain, my world, but, for some weird reason, I wanted her to see it, the code, the hacking, the weird numbers and algorithms.
“Wow.” She sighed and pointed at the screen. “What does that even mean?”
“It’s a type of language. If you know it, you can use it to your advantage.” I typed in a few keys and hit enter. A picture of Val in high school appeared.
She burst out laughing. “Tell me you love the braces.”
“My very first thought. Next to the One Direction shirt of course.”
I received a pinch in the side.
“Show me another,” she whispered, her words kissing my neck with their nearness. I was powerless to say no, so I typed something else in and found another picture, this one from Facebook.
She was laughing hard, Dante was trying to steal her Kindle, and suddenly, my world did a little flip.
It was the exact picture from my folder.
Without thinking I grabbed the black folder from the other side of my desk and flipped it open.
It was the exact same picture.
“What!” Val hissed out a little yelp. “You have pictures of me.”
I nodded, unable to speak. “It’s the first one I saw of you.”
“But that…” She frowned. “That wasn’t recent at all. I mean it was taken easily over a year ago.”
Which was why, when I met her, I was shocked, nearly brought to my knees.
“I’m not sure.” Because usually the mafia was better than that. Hell, Luca was better than that.
He would have updated information, or asked someone to update my folder, right?
Or was it just laziness?
I frowned.
Torn between wanting to call Phoenix and dig some more on my own.
“Sergio?”
“Yeah?”
I hadn’t even realized Val had my folder until it was too late, with shaking hands she pulled out a picture of Luca and frowned. “I hate him.”
Tears streamed down her face as she ran out of the room and up the stairs.
Her father?
I understood. I really did, I hated it, but a part of me got it — understood her anger. So I sighed, and slowly followed her up the stairs just as her door slammed shut.
…grows, lives, and dies in blessedness. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Valentina
WITH SHAKING HANDS, I grabbed the last note and started to read.
I’m sorry.
It’s really all I can say.
I think if I explained myself, it wouldn’t make sense, not yet anyways. So, I leave you with this.
Ask him to show you.
Ask him to show you us.
But only after you show him a picture of you and me.
The picture fluttered into my lap.
I read the note again and again, then picked up the picture, just as Sergio burst into the room, making a beeline for my bed.
“Val.” His voice was cold. “Why are you in a picture with my dead wife?”
He was wrong.
Completely delirious with his anger and sadness, and it was finally breaking him, making him hallucinate. Irritated, I shoved him away. “It’s my friend, Ara.”