Page 77 of Ti Amo

He cut a glance to Lorenzo as his cousin looked over to him smiling. It felt like the old days when they didn’t care about risks. They just took them in stride. “I’m good as long as I got you by my side cousin.” Giovanni said.

“Always. Always.”

Cheung tossed the gun and his arsenal in the trash bin and then hurried to the car he’d parked discreetly on the side of the building. He swerved out into traffic and jumped his lane into oncoming traffic. A quick maneuver kept him from a head on collision with a car, and he swerved back in his lane flooring it hard. He kept a cool head. Cheung had been in tighter spots than this one. He’d get out of Italy under the cover of night and then rethink his plan. Bonaduce’s boy took the hit. How old was the kid? Seventeen, eighteen?

As he drove off the local road to the main highway, he relaxed on the gas. Soon he was flowing with traffic and confident that the worst was behind him. That was until he heard sirens. His gaze flipped to the rearview mirror. Seven box shaped blue police cars were in pursuit. It couldn’t be. No fucking way they could have found him this quick. Maybe they were in pursuit of someone else? He’d been too careful.

When his gaze leveled on the road ahead, he had to brake fast. Cars were all coming to halt before a barricade set up by the Carabinieri.

“What the fuck is this?” he shouted as the car came to a complete stop. The other traffic was veered away and men with Uzis swarmed his car. Cheung put his hands up. He was ordered out of the car. He eased out slowly. He had nothing on him. Nothing to incriminate him and he was certain he hadn’t been seen. This he could work out.

Several armed men approached the back of his car instead of him. He watched as the trunk was lifted. The men recoiled gagging, and the one with the gun pointed sharp to his side barked an order at him in Italian.

“What the fuck is going on? What is it?” Cheung asked in Italian.

He was marched to the back of the car. The stench greeted him first. Then his vision connected with the ghastly sight of a murdered man, pale white, with dead cloudy grey eyes, fixed on nothing. A corpse? Who the fuck put a corpse in his car?

Chapter Fourteen

Two days before Christmas the Battaglia home reflected the spirit of the season. Red and green ribbons were decorative accessories along the stairwell. A festive mistletoe hung above each door on the lower levels. And lights were strung up along the halls and every archway. That was her American touch to the holiday. In Italy the season was also celebrated; however, Catalina told Mira she and Giovanni normally waited until Epiphany, which was January 6th, to exchange gifts. It was Eve’s first Christmas with her father, and Mira refused to wait that long.

And there was another reason why. Franco’s body was found. The killer turned out to be the Asian man she encountered between the Christmas trees holding her daughter. The arrest unfolded on the news. He was handcuffed and led away from a traffic stop. The reporter said Franco Minetti, a Sicilian businessman was found stuffed in the man’s trunk. She and Catalina watched from the second level windows as cars of the Italian police drove in through the Battaglia gates. Men in blue uniforms with berets and weapons strapped to them marched through their home. Summoned below, Catalina gave an Oscar worthy performance and collapsed at hearing the news. Mira made sure to stay upstairs during the visit. She didn’t want to know the details or bear witness to the lies. Catalina was confined to her room afterwards, and Mira stood by Zia’s side as she informed the Minettis that Catalina was too sick with grief to attend Franco’s funeral. Mira found it disgraceful that Catalina refused to give Franco the respect of attending his services. However, she understood. A lie was best believed if only told once.

Caesar Minetti was devastated. He and his sons took Franco’s body back to Sicily. Giovanni remained behind closed doors for several days. He ate his meals atVilla Rosso.He changed and showered there as well.Mira was denied access to him. She lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, lost without the warmth of his body or his comforting words to reassure her. Abandoned to all the turbulent thoughts regarding Kei’s fate and how he could send an assassin to Italy to kill someone. Not her gentle caring Kei. It made no sense.

In the night Eve constantly woke up cranky and whiney for no reason. They were miserable. Mira also feared Christmas was ruined. However, today, the day before Christmas Eve Giovanni had joined her and the family for dinner and announced it was time to trim the tree. He winked at her from the head of the table. As if a switch was thrown and the dark and foreboding mood everyone wallowed in was cast away.

Under Mira’s instruction Rocco and Carmine pulled out the elaborate Nativity scene, placing it in the front cadenza. Mira had learned that the manger scene was originated in Italy. Catalina said the family was supposed to meet each morning in front of this Nativity scene to recite prayers or novenas. This would take place for nine days beginning on December 6th. With her resurrection and all the drama unfolding in Melanzana, they hadn’t continued the tradition. Zia informed them all that they would honor this custom on Christmas Eve and Christmas day. Mira could barely contain her excitement.

Family was important. This evening she would remind them all of this. Mira walked over to the stereo panel on the wall. She pressed the release button so the CD door would open. On their first and only shopping excursion she had found a Christmas CD. Catalina wasn’t familiar with all the songs but Mira had to have it. Her grandfather would play soulful tunes on Christmas Eve, and it was just the touch she wanted to make the place feel more like home. Pressing play, the little disc door slid back into the wall panel and began to spin. Silent Night, by the Temptations was the first on the play list.

The Temptations crooned. Mira smiled and headed for the family room. The music filled the lower west side of their home through the internal speaker system. She stopped and peered in at everyone. Dinner had finished late, but everyone was still up and ready to decorate their Christmas tree. Mira was a bit relieved. She wanted the immediate family together so they could work on healing.

Giovanni, with the help of Lorenzo, finally got around to setting the tree straight for decorating. His sleeves were rolled up into the crease of his arms. She watched them argue over its position and try again to move it as branches scraped the side of their faces and their hands.

Traditionally Italians didn’t use a Christmas tree. Giovanni told her they built a creppo, which was formed by two wooden planks with shelves they decorated. However, their mother Evelyn always wanted a tree for Christmas. And for as long as Giovanni could remember, his father made sure they had one.

Zia spoke sweet words of encouragement in Italian to Eve while once again feeding the toddler sugary scoops of her homemade gelato. She would make Eve pronounce a word, and Eve did marvelously for her reward. After each lesson Eve would run off and get caught up in her father’s legs throwing her arms around them causing him to stumble. He’d try to send her back off to Zia, but Eve would refuse. She’d fuss in her little voice and continue to hug him tightly around the legs. The bond between them grew stronger each day. No one took notice of Mira observing them from the archway of the door.

“Evie,” Zia said. Her daughter released her father and returned to her aunt with her mouth open to eat more from her spoon. Mira smiled at the nickname. The relationship between them was reminiscent of hers with her grandmother, and though she felt jealous at times with the way Eve took to Zia, she understood their bond.

The staff was sent home. Zia had taken over the kitchen and constantly had something in a pot simmering, or in the oven turning golden brown and crisp. When she reviewed the menu with Zia for Christmas day, she was told the meal would consist of no meat. It was custom to have fish, seafood, soup or stew. Of course Mira was now taking lessons from Zia’s kitchen on how to make everything fresh, from pasta to homemade sauces and wonderful sweets. The no meat rule did disappoint her. She loved making her famous cranberry turkey and wanted to do so for Christmas day. What was Christmas without a turkey? But alas, she gave in and respected Zia’s wishes.

To the right of the room Catalina sat on the back of her legs rummaging through several boxes that Carmine and Rocco pulled out of the attic. The ornaments were all family heirlooms collected by her mother. Mira’s gaze almost always drifted to Dominic when he and Catalina were in the same room. Dominic would sit across from her with longing in his eyes, but never speak to her directly or get close. It was the only way Giovanni could tolerate them both being present that evening.

Rocco and Dominic were toward the front of the family room fussing over the tangled lights. Rocco kept plugging them in as Dominic tried to unwind the string. Dominic would get exasperated with the old man and give up, only to have Rocco claim he was just testing them and unplug them again. The tug of war was continual. Maybe Dominic welcomed the distraction. It made him feel included in some way.

The song skipped over to the next. Stevie Wonder’s Ave Maria began to play. Mira had only disappeared after dinner to change into a dress and fix her hair. Giovanni hadn’t touched her for several days. Part of her resented everything that had him so distracted. But he’d kept his promise, and he was there now.

She’d chosen a red wrap around dress that reached just below the knees. Her hair was curled and pinned up by a red and green-jeweled barrette. She hoped Giovanni liked it. When she entered the room Eve and Zia noticed her first. Giovanni had his back to her now pulling on the oversized tree.

“Ma-ma!” Eve went straight for her. Mira knelt and picked her up. Everyone else turned their gazes her way. She blushed.

“Merry Christmas everybody.” Mira smiled.

No one spoke. All seem a bit taken with her glamorous appearance. She set Eve down and straightened her back. Tossing her chin up, she walked over to Giovanni. He hadn’t bothered to even glance her way. She tapped his shoulder, and he released the tree, standing tall. His eyes registered approval after he swept her appearance. “Dance with me,” she said. Mira lifted on her toes and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Here? Now?” he said with an amused smile. “What is this you’re wearing?” He tried to separate to get another good look at her, but Mira wouldn’t allow the separation.

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