Page 42 of Home Team Advantage
Chapter Twenty-Two
MATT
Matt knew a little about Sanctuary. He knew, for example, that it had once been a popular mountain resort. He knew that a group of guys, former SEALs, like his uncles, had turned the place into a private facility for servicemen and -women to help ease their transitions back into civilian life.
After spending more than a decade in the service himself, Matt could see the need for such a place. Walking away from service required mental realignment in the best of cases. It would be hard even for him, and he had incredible familial support. There was no going back to the way things had been, which was one of the reasons he wasn’t planning on sticking around after his six months were up.
“So, are you going to tell me who we’re meeting here and how you think it will help?” Matt asked as they wound their way up the mountain.
“Nick Fumanti and his wife, Bree, née Gabriella De Rossi. As for the why of it, they both grew up in that world. Nick’s parents were key members of the Italian and Irish Mafias; Bree’s family was strictly on the Italian side of things. Granted, Nick’s family’s business was primarily in New York and Boston, and Bree’s in New York and Vegas, but they might know some of the major players in Chicago. At the very least, they can provide valuable insight.”
After about forty-five minutes, Ian turned off the main road onto a well-maintained private drive and drove another mile through a tunnel of trees filled with buds and blooms.
He’d heard the place was nice, but nice didn’t come close to describing the incredible stonework, the landscaping, or the understated grandeur. And the view!
Matt whistled low.
“Yeah”—Ian chuckled—“that’s everyone’s first impression.”
“I’ll say. How’d they get their hands on a property like this?”
“This was Church’s family’s place. It burned down when he was at BUD/s. He lost everything, including his family. Place sat vacant for years, and then when he got out, he wanted to do something worthwhile with it, you know? I’d say he succeeded.”
They parked at the main building and were greeted by the man Ian called Church. Church was a big guy with the no-nonsense look of the former commander he had been. He and Ian clasped hands.
Ian made introductions.
“A Callaghan who went into the Army, huh?” Church said, raising a brow. “Explain that one to me.”
“I know. A betrayal of the highest order,” Ian said, placing his hand on his chest as though stabbed in the heart.
Church’s lips quirked. “Yeah, we have a few of those here. Don’t worry; we don’t discriminate. Come in. Cage is waiting for you in the war room.”
The inside was just as impressive as the outside, starting with the grand entryway.
Church led them down carpeted corridors to a high-tech conference room, where two people were waiting for them. The man had auburn hair and bright green eyes; the woman had dark hair and eyes. Much like Anna, Matt realized.
Church did the intros. “Nick Fumanti—we call him Cage—and his wife, Bree. Cage, Bree, this is Matt O’Connell, Ian’s nephew.”
More handshakes were exchanged.
“Ian, good to see you again,” Church said. “Matt, nice to meet you. I’ll leave you guys to it. You know where to find me if you need me.”
“Thanks for seeing us,” Ian said as Church left, and it was just the four of them in the room.
“So,” Cage said, “Church said you wanted to talk to us about what’s going on in Chicago?” The guy had a very laid-back, easy way about him, but Matt sensed a bit of tension in his eyes, as if the subject wasn’t one he liked to discuss.
Ian nodded. “Yes. Specifically with the gubernatorial race going on there.”
“I’m not sure how much we can help,” Cage said, exchanging a glance with his wife. “We haven’t been part of that world for a long time.”
“But you’re not completely out of the loop,” Ian said.
“No,” Bree agreed. “Although most of what we hear is through my cousin Toni. Now that she and her husband are back in New York and Hunter has the gig with the network, she’s privy to a lot of inside scoop.”
“Do you mind?” Ian said, waving a hand toward one of the laptops.
“Have at it.”
