Page 31 of Tammaro DeLuca

“I don’t think he’s following you. Sometimes a massage is just a massage, Honeydew.”

“So, you didn’t call him?” She asked again.

“We’ve already covered this. How about you focus on your nails and toes, and I’ll worry about Cruz?”

“Nails, not toes. I only have enough for my nails.”

“Are your friends getting both?” I asked.

“No. Everybody is just getting nails.”

“Not today. Toes are on me. I’ll have Cruz handle it after he finishes his massage. Have fun, Honeydew. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, daddy.”

I disconnected the call and called Cruz back.

“Hey, boss.”

“Get all the girls' pedicures out of your pocket, since you don’t know how to be discreet. They already know what’s coming.” I disconnected the call and swore aloud. “Fuck!”

Beni was due back in a week and once he was, I could focus my efforts on finding out about our father’s killer and what he knew. Between the property issue being in Yolanda and Beni’s hands, I felt even less in control than before. At least I could figure out if the rumors were true. According to the way the police found him, the Bianchi family was responsible. I had a few feelers out to see if it held any water.

The doorbell sounded, and I growled at it. I was supposed to be relaxing, not dealing with bullshit. When I looked at the intercom, I saw it was Massimo. What that fuck did he want?

I opened the door, and he waited for me to invite him in. When I did, he looked around before asking.

“Yolanda and Asmaria?” He asked.

“They’re not here.”

I turned in his direction, trying to figure out why he was here.

“Then let’s talk.” He sat down on the couch without an invitation.

I sighed, sitting on the opposite one. “What’s up?”

“It’s like this. On the streets, guys are asking about Tommaso. I traced it back to you. I thought about why you’d be asking. You want to know who killed him so you can figure out if you can trust Ami, right?”

“Something like that.”

“You’re never going to find the information you’re looking for. Nobody is going to admit that they took down Tommaso DeLuca. It’s not something you brag about unless you want every DeLuca on your ass. Around here, that name is something to fear. You don’t casually throw it around because you can. It’s respected.”

“Get to the point, Massimo.”

“He wasn’t a good guy, you know?” He leaned forward and folded his hands as if he was trying to figure out what to do with them.

“Yeah, I do. We talked about that.”

“No, we didn’t. I told you he treated Mom with respect. Obviously, that was only to her face since you exist.”

“Then you mentioned he wasn’t a good father.”

“Right. I didn’t mean that he missed a few birthdays. He was the worst father imaginable and the fact that all four of his children knew four different corrupted versions of him tells me about the animal that we were dealing with. I’m happy he saved that kind of thing for the boys and that Martina thought he was rainbows and sunshine. However, he got what he deserved.”

“Did you kill him?” I asked.

“I don’t know, did I?” He asked. “I’ll tell you that I cried when he died. It had nothing to do with me missing him, either.”

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