Ginevra’s mistrustful expression changes to shock, and then finally to sadness. “Oh, I never…” She swallows. “Knew. The details, I mean. Salvatore told me what you did for her.”
The tension goes out of Lorenzo’s shoulders as he realizes Ginevra understands. He didn’t watch those videos to be a hero or for the sake of the syndicate. He watched them for their sisters, hunting for clues that might tell him their killer’s identity.
But it didn’t work. All Lorenzo got was a head full of horror that’s been with him ever since.
“How did you get past everything you saw? You’re not drunk now, I’m guessing.”
Lorenzo finally meets her eyes. “That’s my business.”
Ginevra gives him a tentative smile. “Of course, I’m sorry. Please hold the baby, Lorenzo. You’re going to be like an uncle to him, too.”
Cassius walks over to Lorenzo, who gazes at the baby, the anger melting from his face. He takes Camillo from Cassius and cradles him in his tattooed forearms. When he touches the baby’s hand with a forefinger, Camillo wraps his tiny hand around Lorenzo’s finger.
“Strong little fucker,” he murmurs, blond hair falling into his eyes. A smile turns up the corner of his mouth. “Here. You better have him back, Uncle Sal.”
Salvatore accepts the baby, and I take Lorenzo’s hand and turn to Ginevra. “The four of us will be in the waiting room. Salvatore, come and find us when you’ve had your fill of your nephew.”
As we walk down the hall, Vinicius takes my other hand. “I have to say, you looked beautiful holding that baby.”
“And you all looked ridiculously sexy.” Is that the right word? Can men look sexy holding babies? Apparently, my men can because suddenly I’m dying to touch them all.
Lorenzo heads off to find the cafeteria to buy us all coffee as Vinicius, Cassius, and I sit on the hard plastic seats. A television is mounted on the wall, set to a local news channel. I wince as I realize the two hosts are discussing the upcoming election. Dad and Christian Galloway’s pictures appear on the screen.
My attention is snared by the headline plastered across the bottom of the screen. CHRISTIAN GALLOWAY IN CORPSE SEX SCANDAL.
Cassius is watching the news with me and I grasp his arm. “Am I reading that right?”
He nods slowly, seeming like he’s as confused as I am. We both get up and move closer to the screen so we can hear what’s being said.
“…online claims that Christian Galloway engaged in sexual acts with a corpse while he worked as a pathologist. We spoke with a member of staff who worked as a pathologist alongside Galloway.”
A piece of video footage is spliced into the broadcast, showing a woman in her late forties wearing a troubled expression. “Mr. Galloway gave me the creeps and would work late all the time. He definitely had access to bodies while there was no one else around.”
The broadcast cuts back to the hosts. “A further witness who wishes to remain anonymous has recalled an incident from Galloway’s medical student days in which he used a body as a crude puppet for an April Fool’s prank.”
The second host replies, “Early polls have the incumbent mayor leading by a comfortable margin. This scandal could end Christian Galloway’s mayoral hopes for good.”
Vinicius whistles low and shakes his head. “I hope Galloway hasn’t ordered any furniture for the mayor’s office. He was a pathologist before he ran for mayor?”
I nod. “Years ago. Then he went into law and became a coroner, and lately, he’s been running for mayor.”
Now that I think of it, he would have been the coroner the year the syndicate’s sisters were murdered. Bitterness washes over me. I suppose he did as little as possible to obtain justice for the women like every other official in Coldlake.
As I go back to my chair, I see that Lorenzo has returned with coffee and he’s seen the tail end of the broadcast. I try to imagine Christian Galloway playing with a corpse, and worse, having sex with a corpse, but the mental images are just too awful.
“Lorenzo, you must have worked on bodies in university labs. Did you see students playing pranks?”
He passes coffee to the other two and hands me a latte. “Oh, yeah. Being around corpses is fucking weird. Students find ways of blowing off steam.”
“Did you play pranks with the corpses?”
He gives a humorless laugh. “Me, princess? Monday to Friday I was cutting up corpses. On the weekend I was making them. I didn’t need pranks to blow off steam.” He gestures at the television with his coffee. “Why anyone goes into politics is beyond me. It’s a thankless fucking task and all your private shit gets spread out for everyone to see.”
“People want power,” I reply, taking a sip of my coffee. The news seems to be drawing a direct line from Galloway playing pranks with bodies to necrophilia. Lorenzo makes it sound like a medical student messing around with corpses isn’t the smoking gun the news hosts make it out to be, but then Lorenzo’s idea of what’s normal isn’t necessarily other people’s idea of what’s normal.
Vinicius nudges me with his elbow. “Look. Coroner Weirdo is being interviewed.”
“I will not answer degrading questions about fallacious rumors. There are real criminals in this city who have never answered for their crimes.” Spittle is flying from Christian Galloway’s lips and there’s a crazed expression in his eyes. “Four men in particular who need to be rooted out and punished.”
Lorenzo gives the television the finger.
“He needs to get a fucking grip,” Cassius mutters and then turns to me. “Is he always unhinged like this?”
Together, we watch more of Galloway’s ranting and raving. Is it the rumors that have pushed him over the edge, or is it because the truth about him is finally out?
“Not that I’ve seen. I think he’s losing it.”
“With an opponent like him, Mayor Romano will have an easy victory,” Vinicius says.
My heart sinks. Another term for Dad. More power for a murderer, and the adoration of everyone in Coldlake.
8
Chiara
Salvatore is grinning as we leave the hospital and head for the cars. Becoming Uncle Salvatore has put a bounce in his step, and I try to focus on the happiness that a new baby brings rather than dismal thoughts about Dad.
“Baby,” Salvatore murmurs, pulling me into his arms as we stand next to his Maserati. “I’ll be thinking about you holding that baby for the rest of the day.” He tucks his lips against my ear and kisses me there. “And I’ll remember what you said.”
I love you.
My heart fills with happiness. These are the moments I cherish, safe in the arms of my men in the midst of the storm that rages around us.
“Get your raging baby hormones in check and get in the fucking car,” Lorenzo says as he heads for his Mercedes. “We’ve got work to do.”
“Me?” I squeak.
“Not you. Uncle Sal.”