“Give it to me,” Miles said as he reached his hand out.
Without a second thought, Letty passed her cell phone to Miles. Quickly opening up the text message, Miles’s eyes scanned the words a few times before he could truly wrap his head around the depravity of his father’s actions.
“The levels this man stoops to never fails to amaze me,” Miles said gruffly.
“What?” Letty asked.
“Nothing. Just ignore him,” Miles urged Letty.
“No, Miles. What? He’s not a man I’m accustomed to ignoring,” Letty replied nervously.
Sliding the phone across the table, Miles gave Letty back her phone. Glancing down at the screen, Letty couldn’t believe what she was reading. She began gasping before she had truly comprehended Michael Capadonno’s words.
“If you want Miles to live, come to the Compound at 3 P.M. Make sure you bring him with you.”
Sasha walked into the kitchen of the Capadonno house with a look of purpose in her eyes. Pulling out a package of ground beef from the refrigerator, Sasha placed it on the counter, next to the other ingredients that she had pulled from the pantry. Pulling out a huge stock pot from a cabinet, Sasha prepared the arduous process of creating gravy—she hoped that this would help put a smile on her father’s face. It had been some time since she’d seen him smile.
As she dropped ingredients into the pot, the kitchen phone rang loudly.
“Hello? Oh, hey Dustin. No. Everyone is coming. Everyone. No, you’re not ditching today! The whole family will be here. Yeah. See you at three.”
As quickly as she had picked up the phone, Sasha placed it back in its cradle as she shook her head in disgust.
“Jesus, since when did Sunday dinner become a hassle? It’s not like they’re cooking.”
“What time is it?” a voice groaned from behind her.
“Almost noon! Bout time you woke up, Rainey!”
“Why are you so effing cheerful all the effing time?”
“What’s there not to be cheerful about?”
“I don’t know. Forget I asked.”
“You know, Rainey… You should get up early next Sunday and come to mass with me. It was very inspiring!”
“No, no, no! I’m more than happy to let Father Whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is think that I’m the devil worshipper of the family.”
“But you’re not a devil worshipper…”
“He doesn’t know that, though. He leaves me alone. I like it that way.”
“Well, maybe if you didn’t stay out all Saturday night at the club, you wouldn’t be so miserable on Sunday mornings.”
Raine held her head as her sister talked. “Too much talking before coffee.”
“Coffee?” another voice rang out, sounding much more chipper than Raine was.
“Hey, Landon. Yeah, I’m going to put a pot on. Do you want a cup?” Sasha asked.
“Yeah, please,” Landon said as he took the bar stool next to Raine. Grabbing the remote control, Landon flicked on the TV.
“Oh, great. The news,” Raine complained. “Let’s see which of our relatives made the headlines today,” Raine said facetiously.
To no one’s surprise whatsoever, the execution attempt on Miles at the diner yesterday and again in Atlantic City last night was still being chatted about and analyzed by broadcasters. Then as the broadcasters continued to speculate on what happened, a breaking news bulletin came across the screen. The video feed showed a police boat floating in the marsh, and it appeared that they were pulling a body from the swampy water.
“This is Tom Banner reporting live from Carrion, New Jersey at the Cressfield Marina where police have announced that they have pulled the body of a twenty-five year old white male from the water. Police have identified the man as Carrion’s own John “Jackie” Villano, Jr. Police are treating Villano’s death as a homicide. Anyone with information regarding this crime is urged to contact the police.”
“Holy shit,” Sasha said, her eyes going wide with shock. “Rainey, wasn’t that guy a friend of yours.”
Raine, who was eating her cereal as if nothing had happened, looked up and replied, “Oh, yeah. I knew him, but we weren’t real tight.”
Landon scoffed at Raine. “Didn’t you go to your soph hop with him?”
Raine looked up from her cereal and replied with a sharp bite, “I said we weren’t real tight.”
“Calm down, Letty. The old man don’t have shit on me. I had a feeling he’d pull some shit like this,” Miles said.
“We have to go. I will not have this on my head.”
“It could be a trap, Letty…”
“We’re going. Wear your vest. Do what you gotta do, but we’re going,” Letty snapped.
Miles nodded as he hit the gas pedal. “Carrion, here we come.”
“Damn it, Dad! Pick up the phone!” Letty barked as her fourth call went to voicemail.
“I hope everything is all right,” Miles said as his stomach twisted painfully.
“Me, too, Miles. Me, too.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO