Deadly Fall (30 page)

Ramirez shrugged. “Besides, what if Castelletti didn’t give the order? What if it was personal?”

Nick’s cell phone going off didn’t allow them to play with Ramirez’s idea. As he listened, Nick’s face hardened until it was like granite.

“Yes,” he bit off into the phone.

Ethan lifted questioning brows. Nick held up a hand. “Where?” he demanded into the phone. He listened, then said, “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t go inside until we get there.” He disconnected.

Ethan grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and followed.

* * * * *

Even though it was only noon, the inside of the restaurant was dark. The heavy, ornate décor contributed to the darkness. It was lunchtime, but only half the restaurant was filled. Most of the patrons sat at the tables near the large, smoked windows. Naturally, the two goons escorted Augusta to the table at the far back corner of the restaurant where a handsome man sat alone. He rose as they approached, and had Augusta not known better, she would’ve assumed that he was nothing more than a successful businessman. He was just below average height and, with the lines on his face, looked to be in his sixties. His sharp eyes were dark and intense. She didn’t think he missed much. His short, expensively-styled hair was snow white but still thick. He was elegantly dressed in silk, from the charcoal suit to the white shirt to the red tie. This was her day to be out-dressed by men.

He held out his hand. “Dr. Langan, thank you for joining me. I’m Daniele Castelletti,” he said. His voice was smooth and rich, with no trace of an accent.

She’d guessed who he was, but having him confirm it was like a blow to the stomach. Deciding it would be healthier to play along, Augusta clasped the proffered hand. He had a firm grip. “Your…associates did not give me much choice in the matter.”

“I apologize for them, but I was most anxious to speak with you.”

Castelletti gave a small wave with his hand and his men went and sat at a nearby table.

“Please take a seat,” he said, pulling out a chair for her.

Augusta took her time taking off her scarf and coat and hanging them on the back of the chair. She sat and set her purse in her lap. She folded her hands over her purse and inconspicuously unzipped it halfway, allowing for enough room to slide her hand around the grip of the Beretta, flick off the safety and squeeze the trigger if she needed to. Castelletti’s messengers declined to search her, assuming she didn’t pose a threat. Even with the Beretta, Augusta decided they were probably right.

When Castelletti seated himself, Augusta continued to study him quietly. She didn’t know who she had been expecting, but the polished, quietly handsome man seated across from her wasn’t it. No, she had to be honest to herself at least. She had been expecting Don Vito Corleone, not an Italian Cary Grant.

“First, I would like to extend my condolences to you on the loss of your husband. I knew your husband, and he was a good man whom I admired greatly. I will miss him.”

Admired? You have a strange way of showing your admiration.
She swallowed, but her throat felt constricted. The water glass in front of her was full and looked untouched, but she wasn’t sure her hand was steady enough to take a drink without spilling it on herself. Was she supposed to accept condolences from the man who was responsible for Drew’s death? Yes. For once in her life, she had to be circumspect. “Thank you, Mr. Castelletti.”

“Please, call me Daniele. Your husband and I were on a first name basis. You and I should not be so formal.”

Augusta carefully hid her clenched fists in her lap.
Do you kill a lot of people with whom you’re on a first name basis?
She forced a small, very brief smile. “Of course.”

He gestured to the cell phone she laid on the table by her folded napkin. “If you will please turn that off. I find them disruptive during meals.”

Augusta was about to answer in the resoundingly negative, but her eyes swept the room. There were about a dozen diners in the restaurant. “Of course,” she said again, but instead of turning it off, she discreetly set it on vibrate and placed the phone between her and the chair back.

“Would you like some wine?” He picked up the bottle of red wine breathing on the table. “It is an excellent Rosso del Conte.”

Maybe the wine would help calm her nerves. “Please.”

As she watched Castelletti fill each of their wineglasses halfway with ruby liquid, the entire situation took on a surreal quality. Any stranger watching them would think it was nothing more than an intimate lunch between two friends. No underlying motives, no deceit. No fear.

When Castelletti set down the wine bottle and reached for his glass, Augusta very carefully picked up hers, trying not to compare the redness of the wine to the redness of blood, and took a sip. Under normal circumstances, she would’ve enjoyed the rich, fruity wine. Today, however, the Sicilian red tasted like vinegar on her tongue. She put her wineglass down, telling herself she should be thankful it didn’t taste faintly metallic.

“I have taken the liberty of ordering lunch for the both of us.”

As if she could keep anything in her stomach, let alone get anything down her throat. “Thank you.”

“You are wondering why I have set up this lunch.”

“The thought has crossed my mind.”

“I would have preferred to invite you to dinner in my home, but I did not think you would feel comfortable enough to accept my invitation.”

Hell, no. I don’t feel comfortable at all right now, either.

“Very perceptive,” she said, and wanted to take back the careless words when Castelletti went still.

Castelletti relaxed and came back to life. “You’re honest. I value honesty.”

Augusta averted her gaze and didn’t comment.

Castelletti arched an aristocrat brow. “You find that surprising.”

“Yes,” she said. She decided not to expand. He said he valued honesty, but she wasn’t sure how much honesty would be too much.

“Perhaps I should tell you my tale before we eat. I do not think you will enjoy your meal otherwise.”

Augusta wondered if that was because this meal would be her last. She took another sip of her wine. It still tasted like vinegar.

“I have a daughter, Daniela, who is about your age,” Castelletti said. An image of the woman in Nick’s picture formed in her mind. “Very beautiful, very strong-willed. She has many admirers, but”—an unexpectedly tender expression softened Castelletti’s face—“she tells me that she does not wish to marry and leave me alone.”

When she felt the stab of envy, Augusta wondered if her childhood had been more messed up than she ever cared to admit.

“She has broken many men’s hearts,” Castelletti continued, “and they can do nothing except accept it and move on. However, one has refused to accept her rejection of him and has repeatedly caused my Daniela unhappiness.”

How about causing Daniela’s lovers’ unhappiness?

“Because this man’s father and I were very close when he was alive, I did not concern myself overmuch with the matter. Then Daniela recently met someone who made her very happy.”

“Drew,” Augusta said almost inaudibly.

Castelletti nodded slowly. “I did not approve of my daughter with a married man, but, like I said, Daniela is very strong-willed.”

Augusta did not point out that she and Drew had been in the midst of getting divorced. The Roman Catholic Church did not recognize divorces. They took the “till death do us part” section of the marriage vows quite literally.

“Stefano became very jealous. He is very quick to anger and easily loses control when he is angry.” Augusta assumed Stefano was Daniela’s rejected lover who could not take no for an answer.

Stiffly, eyes trained on the glassware on the table, she said, “You should be informing the NYPD of this, not me.” She did not need to hear the rest of Castelletti’s tale.

The smile he bestowed upon her was a shade patronizing. “I fear I share the same…misgivings you have about the police.”

Augusta’s widened eyes met Castelletti’s. The sympathy in those eyes that were darker than hers was disconcerting. She could feel her chest expand and contract with each breath. The unfamiliar vibration against the small of her back did not register until the fourth time, after which the cell phone stilled.

“Yes, I know all about you, Augusta. Men like the judge do not deserve to walk this earth. To abuse the trust of someone so defenseless is not honorable.”

Augusta could not say anything. She could not tell a criminal she shared his sentiment.

“You are a strong person,” Castelletti continued. “I admire strength in a person, men and women alike. Your husband was a strong man who did whatever needed to be done to protect his family. And you did whatever needed to be done to survive.”

Desperate to get off the topic of her own personal nightmare, Augusta asked, “And what was your association with my husband, Daniele? You and he were not business associates, and I am familiar with most of his social acquaintances.”

He cast her a shrewd look. “I believe you already know the answer to that question, but I can explain if you wish.”

“Please.”

“I had hoped Andrew and I could do business together, but when I approached him with the proposal, he declined. I respected his wishes. I was, of course, disappointed by his answer, but I had other options open to me.”

What a euphemistic way to say blackmail, Augusta thought wryly.

“I am well aware Andrew felt it was necessary to take steps to ensure I would not pursue the matter. However, he would never have had need to…exercise his insurance policy, if you will. Had he done so, it would have been a mere triviality for myself. For Andrew and his…family, it would have been more than a mere embarrassment.”

His carefully chosen words and deliberate hesitations played through Augusta’s mind. The theory forming made sense of so many other details, and Augusta wanted her suspicions were wrong.

“Stefano was aware of Andrew’s insurance policy, and he sought to right what he considered a wrong. I was not made aware of his actions until after the fact.”

When they couldn’t find the USB key at the penthouse and couldn’t force Drew to reveal its location, they’d thought she would have the answers. They had searched her townhouse but weren’t able to question her. Augusta closed her eyes and silently thanked Drew for the self-defense classes. Then they’d sought out Jana because she’d been the other woman in Drew’s life and had come up with nothing again.

Augusta weighed Castelletti’s words carefully and had a feeling he wasn’t nearly as innocent as he painted himself to be, but she only inclined her head.

“I am pleased to learn you were not seriously harmed and Ms. Westenberg is recovering. Please be assured Stefano and his cousin will not trouble you anymore.”

Augusta gripped the edge of the table as the full implications of that last statement hit her. “In return for Drew’s insurance policy?”

His lips thinned, then Castelletti smoothed out his face. “If I thought you would give it to me, I would have already asked.”

“You are so sure Drew gave it to me.”

“You spent a very long time in the bank.”

She wanted to tell him she no longer had the USB key, but she wasn’t keen on signing her own death warrant.

“So what happens now?”

“You go on with your life.”

Augusta digested that sentence.

“I will make one…suggestion,” Castelletti said, breaking into her semi-trance. “Andrew was a strong person, as are you. Not all those who are close to you share this trait. It is the responsibility of those who are strong to protect those who are weak, even from themselves.”

Augusta waited for Castelletti to elaborate, but he merely lifted his wineglass, tipped it at her and brought it to his lips. He set down his wineglass, then reached inside his breast pocket and withdrew a silver business card case. He pulled out a card and slid it across the table to her.

“Should you ever have need of me,” he explained at her questioning look.

Never.
Silent, Augusta swallowed but picked up the card. It was a heavy, creamy vellum. The only print on the card was ten digits in small, black font. She slipped the card into her purse, determined to get rid of it as soon as she was out of this man’s presence.

The sound of a door forcefully shoved open drew Castelletti’s attention. His eyes traveled over her shoulder and Augusta knew without being told her own self-appointed protector had entered the restaurant. She didn’t need to turn around and confirm with her own eyes; awareness tingled warmly across her skin.

“Thank you for lunch, but I think it’s time I take my leave.”

“Remember what I said.”

As if she could forget.

* * * * *

“Why did you ask me to send Ethan back to the precinct?”