Page 56 of Ms. Fortune

She swallows hard and nods but presses on. “Norm, he had the money ready to go. He tried to send it. Brandon did everything he could to….”

“To what? Break his promise to me? Go back on his word that everything would be fine?” I let go of her hand and point to my wounded arm and bruised face. “Does this look fine to you? I am not fine, Chels. Not even close. I don’t think I’ll be ‘fine’ for a very long time, no thanks to Brandon Carmichael.” She shrinks back from my outburst, and I feel bad for taking it all out on her. She’s just the first person I saw that I could vent to. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“I get it. But….”

“Ms. Blake. I’m glad to see you’re awake and alert,” a deep bass voice says. We both look up to see two people in the doorway to my room; a tall black man with a goatee and a slightly shorter blonde woman with a ponytail. Both have on FBI windbreakers and have badges dangling around their necks. I instantly wonder if they’re real FBI agents or just pretending to be. “Can we ask you a few questions?” They walk in further, and it’s clear they’re going to ask me whether I want them to or not.

“Sure.”

They ask Chelsie to leave, and she reluctantly goes, letting me know she’ll be just outside.

I spend the next half hour or so going over the events involving the Calnettas and Frank Santangelo from my dad’s funeral through the present. By the end, my head is pounding, and I just want to sleep for weeks.

“So, Max Calnetta tackled his brother Vinny, who fired the gun?” the blonde asks, scribbling furiously in a notebook.

“Yes. If he hadn’t, I’d be dead right now. I was looking straight down the barrel of that gun.” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to chase the picture out of my head. I can feel myself starting to shake again, just thinking about it. I’ve never been more terrified in my life, and I hope to God I never am again. “How did you guys get involved?”

“While you said Frank wasn’t FBI, that’s true, but we’ve been surveilling him since he left New York three years ago.” The man, whose name is Agent Ross, has been quiet this whole time until now. “He’s part of the Mamana crime family.”

“He’s a Mamana?”

“No, just part of their ‘family.’” He rubs his goatee thoughtfully. “He was sent in to evaluate Calnetta. Kick the tires, as it were before they invited him into the fold. They do that with all prospective business partners.”

“Well, didn’t you know Frank was about to be killed? Or that I was kidnapped?” They should have known that something was wrong if they were watching him. “How could you let this happen to us?”

“Frank would often go off the grid for days at a time.” The woman is at least a little sympathetic. “So, it wasn’t unusual to lose track of him from time to time. He’d always resurface, though.”

“So, how did you find us?”

“Again, it was Max Calnetta,” Agent Ross says, getting up from his chair, apparently ready to leave. “He turned everyone in, even his own father. We also just got word about some big money payout that was attempted but caught before it could go through.”

“Well, you know they killed my father, right?” It’s the whole reason I’m in this situation, to begin with. I at least want to make sure they get that in their stupid notebooks.

He nods. “We have been in touch with the Clark County police and will work with them on that case. We’ll keep you updated.”

“Thank you.” Maybe something good will come out of all of this, and my father can finally rest in peace. And I can too. It’s what I crave now, just some peace.

They leave with promises to keep in touch with news of their investigations, and I beg off a further visit with Chelsie. I just want to sleep. The nurses come in and give me some more of the strong stuff, and I’m finally able to close my eyes to just darkness, not memories. I eagerly let the comfortable blackness take me.

Chapter 37

HOLLOW EYES

BRANDON

Everything that possibly can go wrong today is going wrong. The blizzard that hits New York that evening keeps us grounded at the airport for hours before we can take off. The only good news that I’ve gotten is that Normandy is alive.

I had finally worked up the nerve to call Chelsie to tell her what happened when she called me instead, beside herself with the news that Normandy had been shot and was being taken to the hospital. She was bewildered at my elation until I told her what we had witnessed and what I assumed happened.

Now, in the hospital and at Normandy’s bedside, holding her hand and watching her sleep, I feel like I can finally breathe for the first time in days. I’m hopeful that the whole Eve ordeal is behind me, and she’ll get whatever she has coming to her. I still don’t understand what she was doing with me while she was married. The only thing I can think of is that she needed to separate her name from theirs, and I was a secure way to do that publicly. It could have been any celebrity, I guess.

And now, with Calnetta out of Normandy’s life, she can move on with her and Chelsie’s business if that’s what she wants to do. She no longer has that dark cloud over her, threatening their father’s legacy. And speaking of Victor, they will now have closure on his murder once the Calnetta’s are convicted. I think, all in all, things have resolved themselves pretty well. Not ideally, or how I’d like it to have gone, but I’ll take it since Normandy is at least alive.

I must have dozed off at some point because I’m woken by Normandy shifting in the bed, pulling her hand out of mine.

I glance up and give her a smile. Even with cuts and bruises, and exhaustion lining her eyes, she’s still the most beautiful woman in the world to me.

“Hey there,” I whisper, but she’s not smiling back.

---