Page 49 of The Heir

“The Valentino mob was furious over her death. They came to the funeral and opened fire moments after the attack on the clubhouse. I was in pursuit on my bike, I got to the top of the hill just in time to see Big Vick fall.” Easy’s voice had turned haunted again.

“Mark Miller survived?”

“He did. He begged me to find his daughter, Trista, before the mob did.”

“And you did.” I knew how that story had ended; she was waiting on us back at the house.

He nodded. “I sure did.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, before clearing my throat.

“Anytime, nephew.” He winked, and we walked back to the bikes.

When we reached them, he opened his travel bag and pulled out the lockbox. After playing with the dial, it popped open, and he handed me a pistol and a clip.

“Keep that shit on you, alright…” He stared at me until I nodded.

I gave the place one more look around and was about to get back on my bike, when a thought occurred to me.

“Wait. I want to see Aunt Joplin.”

“What?” Easy made an amused, throaty sound.

I stared at him, put off a little by his humor. “My aunt. You know… the one whose body I found.”

We had a stare down that lasted for a few seconds before he turned toward his bike and mounted it.

“Easy–” I called.

“Put that piece up, before someone sees it,” He instructed.

I hid the gun in the stash spot, waved my empty hands at him and rounded the bike, refusing to mount.

“Look, if you don’t want to see it, I get it. I mean, I don’t but– Whatever. Just– which direction do I look?” I glanced back at the cemetery.

When he didn’t answer I glanced back at him, and he was staring at me with the oddest expression subtly weighing on his features.

“Crystal told you her sister was dead?” he rumbled, flinching even as he said it.

“Tell me? She boosted me through the fucking window, and I found her. She committed suicide when I was a kid, Easy. I’m the one who found her body.”

Easy shook his head, a bewildered smile on his lips.

“Joplin Nance–” His expression abruptly flattened, and he paused before correcting, “Joplin Valentino isn’t dead.”

I mimicked his expression without meaning to.

“Valentino— Like— ” I turned toward the Valentino grave that had started the mob war.

“Yeah. Them bastards.” He grunted.

“How–? Why would she be a Valentino, when my mother killed Demetri Valentino?”

He slowly nodded, before slowly turning toward me again “She really—”

He shut up and nodded, “Right. Never mind. Let’s get back.”

I had more questions than I started with, but Easy fired that bike up and put it on the road before I could aim anymore of them his way.

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