Page 40 of Confession
“No, you didn’t.”
“I’m a high school dropout, Vitali.”
“You never told me that. And that’s not the same as flunking.”
“It basically is.” I drive a few more blocks then pull over. “This is the closest I’m gonna be able to park.”
“Then let’s walk.”
I grab Vitali’s arm as he starts to get out. “Tell me what we’re doing first.”
“We’re taking an evening walk, Quinn.” He grins. “And looking for the FBI.”
He pulls away from me and gets outs, leaving me grumbling in the driver’s seat. I don’t know why, but he’s being a dick on purpose, playing some kind of game, deliberately irritating me.
We walk a few blocks to the marina. DiMaggio’s boat is docked in the outermost slip. Sultry Italian jazz floats out from the well-lit deck where people are gathered for a party. Standing prominently at the railing is Gavino DiMaggio. His daughter, Cecilia, dressed in glossy black, stands beside him. I can see all that even without the binoculars.
“What an absolute honeypot,” Vitali observes in a wry tone.
Frowning, I take the binoculars from him, quickly skimming over the DiMaggio yacht to the neighboring one, which is dark and quiet and seemingly empty—but I pick out three hidden figures.
I lower the binoculars. “DiMaggio wants you to retaliate. Expects it.”
Vitali shrugs. “I’ve retaliated before. He knows I can be hotheaded. I think that’s part of the reason he’s been making such small, annoying attacks. They cost him very little, but if I fight back, the FBI nabs me and I’m out of the way.”
“Fuck,” I mutter then register the rest of what he said. “Part of the reason?”
“I think Gavino is sick, maybe dying. I think that’s why he’s trying to finish this but is doing it in such a passive way.”
“Seriously?”
“I can’t be sure, but he didn’t look good when he came into Eclipse. Then there’s Alesso.”
My heart skips. “What about him?”
“I don’t know. Something’s not fitting into the equation. But whatever it is, I haven’t figured it out yet.”
He turns and starts walking back to the car. His silence is different now, more inward.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask when we’re back in the car. “About your theory.”
“Because I wasn’t sure.”
“Did you have to be sure to tell me?”
“I guess not. I don’t know.”
He’s in a strange mood, one I don’t understand. He’s upset, maybe a little depressed. Did I do this to him? Maybe, but I’m not the only factor here, and this isn’t the first weird thing he’s done today.
The risk he took this morning—I’m still furious with him about that. I still hate that he held me back from it. But I’m not the only one he held back. He didn’t let Joe take his place either, and he apparently tried to kick Roman out of the vehicle as well. Vitali can be reckless, but that’s a little extreme even for him.
“What’s going on, Vitali?”
“Nothing. What do you mean?”
“You’re being reckless.”
“Reckless?” He’s offended. “Look how fucking careful I was tonight. They set a trap for me, which I did not fall into.”
