“Are there guys after you?” I ask, tightening the blanket around my shoulders but not moving out of the doorway.
“No, it’s not like that, but we need to be careful. Your dad was very important, so the organization is making the changes necessary to take over his duties before certain ‘interests’ are exposed.
“Oh.”
“Nothing will bring your father, my best friend, back. Let me help you, you’ll be fine. Your life can go on almost like it did.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, let’s cross that bridge when we get to it. I have to run. Remember, be quiet and act normal at the service. Can you do that?”
“Sure.”
“Good girl.” He kisses me on the forehead and disappears into the night like a spy.
Now I’m still awake, it’s after 2 a.m. and it sucks because I’ll be awake in a few or hours. I decide to put my ski clothes in their zipper containers and store them in the closet.
I wonder what Besnik meant about my life being almost the same going forward. Again, it’s all riddles, like Papa’s black book. I make an effort to look my best because a lot of people I know will be stopping by the shop today.
I can’t stop thinking about the money I found in Papa’s suitcase, so I open my drawer to make sure it wasn’t my imagination. This time, I count it.. There is over forty thousand euros here.
My hands shake, I’ve never seen money like this.
Disbelief sets in. The fact that this money exists leaves me with more questions than answers. If only money could talk. But it can’t. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing for it anyway.
7
Marchello
All I can think about is that hot little Albanian minx I met today, and I hate myself for it. I’ve never dated an Albanian for good reason. I want my kids to be Italian, 100% Italian. Not that I’m having kids any time soon. I’m still too young and too busy.
I’m still assigned to damage control on the dead body so I call Bruno at the morgue. He tells me the body has been released for a service on Sunday. Mission accomplished.
After making the drop for Dante, I head home. Tonight, I want to spend the evening alone, escaping my reality and getting lost in some American movie. I gotta give them credit, they put out some good stuff and our TV stations are chomping at the bit, as are the Italians, to get the latest American show.
I have to say it’s a toss-up between who has the most outrageous stuff. Our reality shows seem so over the top but they have Italian fashion with lots of color and women hitting men.
My phone rings.
Riccardo.
“Hey, how are you? Everything okay?”
“Yes, just checking in. Dante wants to know if you’ve heard any more on Argon.”
“No, and I don’t want to raise any questions with the Albanians.”
“You’re right.”
“The funeral service is on Sunday.”
“Great. So, we are the only ones who know two drugs were found in his system, right?”
“Yes, as far as we know, our connection in the north took care of that, to cover our ass. That’s how we found out about Digitalis.”
“Weird, I can’t figure this out. I mean, we usually hear things, one hit, then another hit for retaliation. It’s like being in a foxhole.”
“Well, if it’s okay with you, I was thinking of stopping by to visit Prende after the funeral. See if things have died down.”