bed is a minute I could be spending with Lawrence.
Rolling onto my back, I press my hands over my eyes, wishing I could push the knowledge of this Fay girl out of my head.
But I can’t. So it’s time to grow up and deal instead of sulking
about it. Lawrence is all that matters now.
I grab my laptop and flop it on my stomach. I enter “Fay
Cartelli” into the search engine. It’s a long shot, I know.
Sure enough, I find the website for a graphic designer in
Dallas. Some random girl’s Facebook page. Pursing my lips to
the side, I try “Fay Cartelli 1925.”
After sifting through five pages of search results, I find nothing. I try at least ten more variations of her name, adding different words with no success.
And then I search: “Cartelli Lower East Side New York
1925.” On the second page, I notice a site dedicated to New
York during Prohibition. It’s right there.
The Cartellis. A prominent crime family from the Lower
East Side.
The hair on the back of my neck prickles. I stare at the
screen. It can’t be possible. There are probably dozens of
Cartellis on the Lower East Side. The likelihood of one of
them being related to this Fay chick is astronomically small.
But then…what if? We’re dealing with a murder here. Last
time I checked, murder is kind of the mob’s specialty. Of
course, you have to wonder why they would bother killing a
seventeen-year-old living in ritzy Massachusetts.
Unless, of course, he was cheating on their daughter. The
thought slams me right in the chest.
Am I the reason Lawrence is killed?
Chapter 26
Cassandra
ou can’t think of it that way, Cassandra. You’ll drive
Y
yourself crazy.”
It’s ironic that Lawrence is the one with less than forty-eight
hours to live, but he’s trying to calm my panic attack.
“I knew we shouldn’t have messed with time,” I say, unable to draw a good breath. “I said it from the very beginning. You
mess with the past, and you screw up the future. Once we realized what was going on, we should have left each other alone.”
He grips my hands. “We have no way of knowing if Fay’s family is even responsible for my death. You could be panicking for nothing.”
“They’re mob, Lawrence. An Italian mob family. Have you ever seen The Godfather? Do you not understand how these
people operate? They kill at the drop of a hat. You said Fay was
mad when you guys parted?”
He scratches the back of his neck reluctantly. “Yes.”
“And why was she mad? Because you told her about me?”
“Well no, but she did find out about you…in a way. I can’t imagine her actually trying to have me killed for it.”
“Not her. But what about her big, mean, mobster daddy?
Her creepy brother who was watching you?”
I massage my temples while Lawrence ponders the idea. As
if things weren’t scary enough, pressing him for details only
makes me freak out more. I feel like I’m spinning out of control.
“I should warn Ned,” Lawrence says. “All this time he’s
thought Fay was a Crest Harbor girl. Rich, clean-cut. One of
us. He has no idea who she really is. If he knew, he’d never have
thought to…” The color in his face drains away.
“What’s wrong?”
The words fall slowly from his lips. “We were supposed to be
married, Fay and I. Ned had it all arranged.”
I sit back, reeling from the revelation. “Wow.”
He grabs my hand. “Please don’t be hurt, Cassandra. It was
never official. And it wasn’t ever my idea. I didn’t even realize it
was Ned’s plan until a week or two ago.”
“You don’t want to marry her?”
“No. I told you. I never loved Fay. My uncle’s been pushing
the relationship since the beginning.”
“Well, I’d say your uncle has some pretty crappy judgment.”
“But that’s just it. He doesn’t realize who Fay really is. When
he finds out, he’s bound to break off the agreement. Maybe the