Page 30 of Her Dark Salvation

Mr. DeVita thrust his wrist out of his coat sleeve and glanced at his watch. “Huh. Just about time for my mid-morning caffè.” He pushed out of his chair, and I scrambled to my feet. “Vito will stay and assist you in your search. I’m confident, after a day together, you’ll find a way to waive the zoning regulations.”

The commissioner’s pale face went a touch green.

“Before we go, Ann will ensure all required fees are paid and paperwork filed in advance so I can make the purchase as soon as the waiver is in place.” Doug frowned and opened his mouth to interject, but Mr. DeVita steamrolled right over him. “The last time we met, you mentioned the building’s historic classification, that the city won’t allow the seller to consider bids without sufficient capital and proof of solvency. Ann will provide any documentation you need.”

I would? I scrambled to pull the notebook and pen from my purse. “Yes. Uh—what is required? And your—your contact information? Please?” Not exactly the notetaking I’d been referring to when I’d asked him why he’d brought me along, but I jotted down the barrage of form numbers and his email address regardless.

“Enjoy the cigar.” Mr. DeVita grabbed the doorknob. “We’ll talk soon,” he said and walked out of the office.

“Thank you,” the commissioner mumbled to Mr. DeVita’s back.

I spared a final glance at the nervous official. The resignation in his voice matched the defeated downturn of his mouth. His wary eyes tracked Mr. Balistreri as the big man removed his coat, unbuttoned his suit jacket, and lowered his bulky frame into one of the chairs opposite the commissioner’s desk.

I hurried after Mr. DeVita, walking as fast as I could despite my heels and the nervous energy turning my legs into noodles. I caught up to him at the elevators, and we made the rest of our exit in silence. Fine by me; I was at a loss for words.

The bracing cold and gusting wind shocked my system out of its caged feeling from being trapped inside the jail-like building. I took small, quick steps to keep up with Mr. DeVita’s long strides, and the icy air brought a measure of calmness and clarity to my flustered mind.

“You know, I really could use a caffè,” he said easily, as if he hadn’t just bribed and threatened a city official. “There’s a bakery across the street.” He gestured to the south end of the plaza. “They make a decent cappuccino. We’ll stop there before I call my driver.”

“Are we going to talk about what just happened?”

“What just happened?”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but…” The words to describe what I’d witnessed slowly solidified, and the clarity grew my anxiety into something just short of panic. “That entire conversation sounded very much like extortion.”

“Interesting take. Which part exactly?” He glanced down at me, his brow furrowed in genuine curiosity.

I stared back at him, awed by the complete lack of culpability. “For starters, the cigar. Theillegalcigar, I might add. Your intimidation tactics—showing up unannounced, Mr. Balistreri, the talk about football and making bets. That poor man looked like he was going to be sick!”

“Doug’s a nervous guy. He always looks like that.”

I gave him my best I-call-bullshit look.

“There are ways of obtaining Cuban cigars these days that aren’t illegal. As for the football? He’s a fan. I was making small talk.”

“You can’t possibly think I’m that naïve.”

“No. Far from it.” He captured my eyes in that way he did, holding them to make sure his message landed. “I think you’re intelligent enough to know when not to ask questions. You may not want to hear the answers.”

“That’s rather ominous.”

“Just a fact.”

“You’re not helping your case, you know.”

“I didn’t realize I had a case.”

I glared at him. “You told me you had nothing to do with Mr. Valenzano.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, this entire visit and your cagey answers sound a lot to me like Mafia scare tactics.”

“You’ve watched too many gangster movies.”

I scoffed and looked away. Unbelievable.

We’d been walking south across the plaza and the abrupt rise of buildings to the east reminded me where we were—Government Center. My pace slowed, and I stared at the block of buildings I’d once thought held my future.

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