Page 98 of The Butcher's Wife
She watches me as the news settles in.
“Why?” I ask with a breathless voice. In all the time I’d lived with them, they’d only visited Chicago a handful of times, for business.
“They say it’s to meet with your dad to talk about increasing his number of warehouses, but my guess is that it’s to see you and confirm what they already know about your identity. They’ve been cautious over their phone calls and even in their homes, but no one’s perfect. Giulia Chiarelli blames you for her son’s death. She prays for your suffering every night.”
The image of sweet, kind-faced Giulia praying for my suffering slices through my mind, but not out of surprise. She always told me you had to make your own justice in this world.
“If Aceto’s really working with them, won’t he hurt me if I go to his house?” I ask slowly.
“Doubtful. He needs to protect his own ass, and hurting the wife and daughter of two powerful men doesn’t bode well for him. Better to let some hitman take the fall. I won’t lie, though, it’ll still be risky.” Marisol smiles. “But like most things in life, this is worth the risk. Once Aceto figures out those two sweet girls know his face, hewillkill them.”
My stomach drops. I touch the outlet’s cold metal prongs with the tips of my fingers. “But if I put this in his office, you’ll send them home?”
“I will.”
“When?”
She gives me a calculating look. “I’ll make sure it happens the same day.”
I know Maria and Lucia want to see their families. They want to return to the lives that were stolen from them. If we buy them a plane ticket and send them on their way, how much help will that be?
“Can you give them assistance if they need it?” I ask tentatively. “After you get them home?”
Marisol considers this. “I’ll support any decision about them as you see fit. You’ve done charity work, right? I’ll put you in charge of this.”
Yeah, like running a cookie stand. I don’t say it aloud. Being in charge for once sounds nice.
My hand closes around the smooth plastic of the smart plug. “When do I need to do this?”
“That’s up to you,” she says, standing and gathering her things. “But the sooner you do it, the sooner you’ll be a little safer from the Chiarellis, and the sooner those poor girls are back home.” She brushes invisible lint from her coat. “And, just so you know, Dom will be out for the rest of the night.Aceto, too, though his kids are home. That shouldn’t be a problem for you since you’re such good friends with Valeria. Tonight could be anauspiciousnight for a visit.”
She takes one last glance at the flowers on the table. “You really did a beautiful job with the arrangement. Your sister would be proud.”
And then she leaves me completely alone in the house.
For one long moment, I sit there with my eyes squeezed shut. This is a small thing, isn’t it? Visit my friend. Push a smart plug into an outlet.
And if I do it, Maria and Lucia go home.
Marisol could be lying. She probably is, somehow. She might not have the authority to make her offer, or there could be more conditions to this deal, but what else do I have to go on?
Aceto will be out tonight.
I’ve been so bitter lately. I’m impatient with Dom’s promises, betrayed and heartbroken from Serafina’s secrets, and angry at myself for being totally helpless and completely useless.
I roll the outlet in my hand. Maybe I can change one of those things.
It’s hidden in my pocket by the time Eduardo returns to the penthouse.
We eat dinner, and I tell him I’m going to have an early night.
Upstairs, I change into jeans, a comfortable pair of sneakers, and a tight-fitting top. Then I stare at the gun in Dom’s nightstand drawer.
I don’t want to use it.
But I could need it.
And what have I been practicing for, if not for this?
