Page 76 of Mafia Daddy's Christmas Bride
I shake my head, draining my coffee. I'm getting ahead of myself. Isabella still has secrets. Still might be playing both sides. Still might end up dead if she makes the wrong move.
I put on my coat and head out into the brutally cold December air. Twenty minutes later, I pull into Marco's private underground garage, killing the engine.
Despite his being a single guy without any plans for a family, his place is decorated with Christmas lights twinkling on the perfectly trimmed hedges.
I sit for a moment, collecting my thoughts before facing my oldest friend and boss.
The file on the passenger seat contains everything I've uncovered about Mrs. Ferraza's murder.
Not much, but enough to raise uncomfortable questions. Questions Marco might not want to hear.
I grab the file and head inside, nodding at the guards who know better than to stop me. Marco's housekeeper directs me to his study without a word.
“You look like shit,” Marco says when I enter, not bothering to look up from his desk.
I do?“Thanks.” I drop into the leather chair across from him. “Haven't been sleeping much.”
He finally glances up, eyebrows raised. “The new wife keeping you busy?”
I ignore the implication. “I need to talk to you about Isabella's mother.”
Marco's expression shifts, all traces of humor vanishing. He reaches for the decanter on his desk, pouring us each two fingers of whiskey even though it’s barely ten in the morning. “What have you found?”
“Something that doesn't add up.” I slide the file across his desk. “Isabella's evidence has to be fabricated or manipulated, but whoever created it knew details they shouldn't have.”
Marco flips through the pages, his face unreadable. “Explain.”
I explain the shell casings and car.
“Cadillac? Since when do I have one of those?” He makes a face of disgust.
“Your father had one, but I checked and it was disposed of within a year of your becoming Don.”
“Fucking American cars.” He shakes his head. “Is that the car they’re linking this to?”
“I don’t know. No model… no VIN. I checked the plate on your father’s car and it’s not the same.”
Marco sits back, his mind deep in thought. “What do you make of this?”
“Nothing concrete except that I think someone is out to get the Calabresi family.”
“The Feds?”
I see-saw my head. “That goes without saying, but I’m not convinced they’ve fabricated this info.”
“Why? They lie better than we do.”
“True, but?—”
“And what better way to get inside the family than to create this evidence for your wife?”
“Also true, but it could also be that someone handed this over to them.”
Marco’s eyes darken. “You think someone on the inside of the family or La Corona?”
I shrug. “Or outside. Rival group. We can’t rule anything out.” I lean forward. “But there's something else.”
“Fucking hell. What more could there be?”
