Forgive Me(92)

Bryce ended the call and thanked Ray for his time. He didn’t have to explain the reason for his sudden departure.

Bryce and Ray were cut from the same cloth.





CHAPTER 49



When Angie arrived at the house Thursday night, she found her father watching a Nats game with Walter Odette and drinking a beer, which he’d sworn off of since his acid reflux flare-up.

Angie said, “Walt, could I have a few minutes alone with my dad?”

Both Walt and the sofa springs groaned as he rose to his feet. “Wish my ligaments came with a warranty. I could use some new ones. Gabe, I’m gonna head home. Louise is expecting me for dinner. We’ll catch up later. Still up for the range this weekend?”

“For sure,” Gabe said with a smile. Stashed in a gun safe down in the basement, he kept three pistols—a Glock 75, a Ruger 22/45, and a CZ 75.

Angie knew her weaponry, and her father’s choices were good ones for the gun range—comfortable to shoot, with light recoil. Heavy firearms did a number on joints and muscles when firing thousands of rounds at targets. She had gone shooting with Walt and her dad plenty of times, and it was always a fun bonding experience.

Drinking beer and shooting guns; clearly her father was feeling much better.

Walt gave Angie a kiss on the cheek before he departed. “Are you okay, kiddo? You look a little tired.”

“I’m fine, Uncle Walt,” Angie said, but she wasn’t fine, not really. She was worried about what her dad was going to say, what he might reveal.

As soon as Walt was gone, she headed to the kitchen and returned carrying a folder containing all of her research documents. She spread the documents out on the coffee table and got her father to relocate to the sofa so they could view them together. Included among the various papers was the picture of Isabella Conti.

Angie showed her father the familiar photograph. “Mom knew this little girl. She was the daughter of a mobster named Antonio Conti.” She went through her findings in brief, giving her father a quick recap of Conti’s tumultuous life in New York City during the heyday of the Mob in the 1980’s.

After she finished, Gabriel looked at Angie with a blank expression. “Honey, I have no idea what your mother’s connection is to this Antonio Conti fellow. None whatsoever.”

Angie noticed a change in her father’s expression, not a hint of deception, but a fearful look in his eyes. Was he thinking his wife had had an affair, had betrayed him? Angie flashed back to the conversation she’d had with her dad while on stakeout in Baltimore. The memory of Kathleen DeRose remained pristine; she still existed in that state of suspended animation.

“Don’t just think about what the answers mean to you, Angie. Think about what it could do to me.” Her father’s words had been impactful, and yet she couldn’t stop seeking answers, no matter what the consequences of the truth might be.

“Dad, I’m sorry to keep bringing this up. Who is this girl to Mom, and why does she want forgiveness? I have to know.”

Gabriel gave Angie’s hand a squeeze. “I understand. I really do. And I wish I could help, but I can’t.”

Angie tried not to let her frustration show. Again she thought of a maze without an exit.

She made dinner for her father—chicken parm (his favorite), light on the parm (not his favorite). She was doing the dinner dishes when Bryce called with some unsettling news. Ivan Markovich was on the lam. For the moment, solving the Isabella Conti mystery wasn’t Angie’s top concern.

Nadine was.





Angie phoned the Jessup residence from her car. She had left her father in a hurry with a kiss good-bye and a promise to visit later in the week. Her plan was to return to her office and continue with her research, but first, Nadine. Someone had to warn her that Markovich had gone missing. Nadine wasn’t at home, but Carolyn was and she sounded more lucid than the last time they’d spoken. There wasn’t even the trace of a slur. They exchanged some pleasantries before Angie shared the disquieting news.

“I know,” Carolyn said. “The police and some people from the FBI came by and did a wellness check.”

“Are they still there?” Angie asked.

“No. They left awhile ago. They’re not going to stake out our place or anything. I guess because there wasn’t a specific threat against Nadine. Do you think she’s in any danger?” Carolyn asked.

“I don’t think so,” Angie said. “But I can’t be certain. She should be careful. Maybe not stray too far from home.”

“She and Sophia have been going to Baltimore lately,” Carolyn said.

Angie almost slammed on the brakes for no reason. “Baltimore? What on earth for?”

“They’ve been seeing a woman named Tasha. I think she was one of the girls from the apartment.”

“Yes, she was. What’s Nadine doing with Tasha?”

“I don’t know and I haven’t pushed her to tell me.”

“Well, maybe you should.” Angie regretted the words soon as they left her mouth. It wasn’t her place to tell Carolyn how to parent her daughter.

“I have asked, just so you know, but I’m not being demanding about it. I don’t want to push Nadine away again. And besides, I’m almost a week sober and a nasty confrontation with my daughter might upset the delicate truce I have forged between my desire and the booze. I have an AA meeting to go to right now, in fact.”