“What?” she asked. “What is it? My parents?”

“Prepare yourself.”

Rosina leaned forward. “After what happened in Rome, I’m prepared. Just tell me.”

“We have a safe house in Barrie. We’re heading there in different vehicles.”

Rosina rolled her hand around in a circle. “Go on, go on. I already know this. And…”

“The vehicle your husband was in has had an accident.”

She was astounded. “An accident?” she asked, her voice too loud.

“Please ma’am. Keep your voice down.”

“Is. Darwin. Okay?” she asked, clipping each word with her voice controlled.

“We don’t know.”

“Tell me what you do know. Now.”

“All I got was the vehicle hit the back of rig.”

“How come there’s no word on Darwin?”

The agent looked down at his shoes, his eyes wary. “The car was fully engulfed in flames before the fire engines got there.”

“Oh, no, oh, no… noooo,” Rosina moaned.

“There was another car that hit the rig. It too burst into flames. Multiple vehicles were involved.”

She looked up at him, her food forgotten. “Isolated incident, as in mob hit? Is that what you mean?”

He nodded. “From first accounts, it looks like an accident like any other on the 401.”

She stopped and widened her eyes in surprise. “What did you say?”

“What? About the accident?”

“No. You said, an accident like any other on the 401? Didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Why, is that important?”

She smacked the table. “What was his car doing on the 401?”

“I have no idea. I’m not given details about other people’s transport.”

“You don’t take the 401 to get to Barrie. When you guys knocked on my hotel room door, you said Darwin was already en route to Barrie and that I was to come with you to relocate to a safe house in Barrie. I repeat, you do not take the 401 to go to Barrie from where we were. So what’s going on?”

“I have no idea ma’am, but I think it’s time we leave. We’re attracting attention.”

“No. I want to know why Darwin was on the 401. You go north on the 427 and then across the 407 to the 400. The 400 goes north directly into Barrie. So you tell me, a woman who has lived her whole life in Toronto, to the point where I could be a cab driver without a map, why my husband was on the fucking 401?” She was near screaming now.

Alfred stood up. “Ma’am, please, come with me-”

“Don’t ma’am me! My Darwin did not fight the Fuccini family in Rome to come home to die in a car accident. Don’t you dare tell…” she choked, caught her breath. “Oh my baby, my precious Darwin.”

She tried to get up and slipped to the floor. She whispered his name over and over as Alfred lifted her with ease.

Supporting her, he hustled for the exit, passing the restaurant’s night manager on the way. Alfred flipped his ID out and the manager stepped back.

Alfred set her in the backseat, locked both doors and stepped away from the vehicle.

She saw he was on the phone, but didn’t register much else. Thoughts of Darwin rolled through her brain as she tried to comprehend a life without him. Could it be over? Could he be dead?

She punched the seat beside her and decided to firm up her resolve. Until they had a positive ID, she would not believe he was dead. No way, no how. Not her Darwin. If he could walk away from Fuccini’s trap, he could walk away from scrap metal.

The driver’s side door opened and Alfred sat down in the driver’s seat. He turned around before starting the car.

“They checked the car your husband was in. The driver and your husband weren’t there. No one was in the car. They’re still on the scene, but at this point there are no bodies in the FBI vehicle.”

“I knew it. Darwin is alive. I feel it. He won’t die. You’ll see. He’ll come back around and kill everyone who fucks with him. You watch. He’s my husband.”

Chapter 12

He walked for hours, staying under street lamps as often as he could. The accident happened just before the exit for Keele Street, which he walked up and then went north on Keele until around five in the morning. He fell asleep for two hours behind a building on Ashwarren Road.

Once up, he continued along Keele until he saw a drive-thru Tim Horton’s.

The line inside was short, but the place was hopping as cars lined up over twenty deep at this early hour.

He got his large double-double and went looking for a pay phone. He found one, pulled out his wallet and used his Visa for the charges.

Sure, they can check my records to see where I am, but I’m pretty sure it’s not instant and by the time they figure out what pay phone and race over here, I’ll be long gone.

He sipped his coffee while he dialed his father’s home phone number. After three rings, he was about to hang up, when someone answered.

“Hello?”

FBI.

“Hello?” the man said again. “Can I help you?”

Darwin hung up. They were probably tapping the line, waiting to see if there was a list of demands.

Oh, Dad. I’m sorry you got mixed up in this. I’m so sorry.

He leaned against the pay phone’s Plexiglass shelter and wondered who he could call for help. His friend Bill would already be gone to work, and he couldn’t remember that number by heart. He knew Bill would extend a hand, but did he really want to involve someone else he cared about?

Finally, he decided to call Rosina’s parents’ number to see if the FBI would answer that one too.

He dialed and drank more coffee while he waited.

The phone was answered after three rings.

“Hello?”

Rosina’s mother? No fucking way. Impossible.

“Isabella?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Isabella Capote? Is that you?”

“Who’s calling please?”

“Darwin.”

“You. What have you got my daughter mixed up in? FBI agents came by. They wanted to set up stuff in my house. I told them to get out. This was between you and someone else. Ohhh, Darwin, I’m so frustrated right now. Where is Rosina?”

It was so good to hear her voice, such a relief, that he wasn’t formulating a proper response.

The FBI said they had kidnapped you. What the fuck?

“It’s so good to hear your voice.”

“What? Darwin, are you on drugs?”

“I was told you were kidnapped-”

“Kidnapped? How absurd.”

“Tell me about it.”

His thoughts were coming together. They were lying to him. Everyone was lying to him. The FBI had set him up, and Greg was involved at some level. Greg had called the hotel room and told him that Rosina’s parents had

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