Page 31 of The Mastermind
Teeth grinding, I typed:
Yes
The answer appeared immediately. My fingers tightened around the phone as I read it.
HOLY MAMA HOLDS THE KEY
Fuck.
Rafa frowned. ‘Holy Mama?’
Mary Magdalene. ‘Maddelena,’ I breathed.
‘Figghiu ri buttana,’ Rafa muttered.
No. She wasn’t that great a liar. Was she?
My fingers flew over the keyboard.
Bullshit. If you want to help, stop wasting my time and tell me something I don’t already know.
Rafa’s hand clamped over my wrist before I could send it. ‘I’ll ask again. You sure about this?’
I paused. ‘I already know she’s involved somehow but I don’t think it’s her doing the dirty work. I think she’s either covering for the real culprit or deliberately choosing not to investigate. Either way, all I’m doing is cutting through the noise to get quick confirmation. If this is somepezz’i mieddayanking my chain for funsies, I’d much rather know soon so I can use the time to find them and impress some manners into them.’
His lips flattened, then he released me. I hit the send button. The screen dissolved again.
We waited. And waited. After ten minutes I tossed the phone onto the coffee table. ‘Fuck this shit. I’m going to take a shower.’
Rafa didn’t reply.
An ice bath had restored my weary muscles after second practice, but those things were more torture than refreshing. I let the hot water soak into my muscles and bones until the tips of my fingers started to prune.
The urge to masturbate had greatly diminished. Especially with my brother within hearing range. Once I’d towelled off, I pulled on a pair of joggers and a black T-shirt and strolled out of the bedroom.
Rafa was finishing a cognac.
‘Anything?’
He shook his head. ‘Nothing yet. Want me to stay?’
I checked the time and shook my head. We both needed a good night’s sleep in preparation for Free Practice Three and Qualifying tomorrow, even though I doubted I’d get any decent sleep tonight. But there was no reason for us both to wait around. ‘Nah. Leave it with me. I’ll take care of it if they come back.’
He set his glass down and rose. ‘Cool. Call if you need me, but only if it’s strictly urgent. I have a Goth groupie in serious need of deliverance tied to my bed.’
I grimaced, but not without an ounce of jealousy. ‘Cristu, keep that shit to yourself.’ My hankering for racetrack groupies seemed to have taken a dive along with my race performance. But I had a strong suspicion the former had a lot to do with Maddelena Mancinelli.
His sociopathic grin back in full, irreverent force, he sauntered out.
Needing air, I strolled outside to the terrace. With a compulsion I couldn’t fight, I turned east in the direction of her hotel. Even on foot I could be there in under ten minutes.
It was a little past dinner time. Would she have eaten or was she neglecting her meals again the way she had in high school?
When I’d seen her hovering near the vending machine back then, I hadn’t really given it much thought. It had been irritating as hell to notice her in the first place when I would’ve given anything for a reprieve from the reminder of the bitter feud between our families.
I’d had an earful of it at home on the regular. I didn’t need it dogging my steps in school, too. I’d signed up to play football and lacrosse – against my father’s wishes because he deemed it a waste of valuable time – just so I could lengthen the time I was free of the burden of being Cosa Nostra. Pretend I was just another Sicilian-American football-and-pussy-loving teenager.
Maddelena’s presence had been a constant reminder.
