Chapter 6 - THE SPY IN THE ALLEY
I felt sick. Whitman had watched me for eleven months. He knew my schedule, knew how desperate I was for money.
“Why didn't you just fire him months ago?” I asked Vincent.
“I didn't own the restaurant until this morning,” Vincent replied. “Whitman was planted there by the Morettis. They used the restaurant to launder money, and Whitman was their eyes. When my mother wandered in last night, he realized who she was. He humiliated her to see if I would show up to protect her.”
Eleanor patted my hand gently, oblivious to the danger. “You have such kind eyes, just like your father. He used to sing in the car, you know.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I'm a nursing dropout, Vincent. I pour coffee and serve pasta. Why am I here? What can I actually do?”
“My mother trusts you,” Vincent said, his eyes entirely sincere. “She won't let my private nurses near her. She throws her medication at them. But she let you sit with her. I need you to stay here and keep her safe tonight while I go get your father.”
“You're going alone?”
“I'm taking my men. But this house will be a fortress.”
Vincent left within the hour. The massive estate grew eerily quiet. I sat with Eleanor, making her tea, checking her vitals using the basic skills I hadn't forgotten. She finally fell asleep around midnight.
I went to the kitchen for water. The house was heavily guarded, but as I walked past the pantry, I noticed the back service door was slightly ajar.
A cold breeze drifted in.
I grabbed a heavy cast-iron pan from the stove and crept toward the door.
A shadow moved in the dark hallway.
May you like
Before I could swing, a hand clamped over my mouth and a gun was pressed to my ribs.
“Hello, Lucy,” Whitman whispered in my ear. “Did you really think Caruso’s guards were enough to keep me out?”
