“Just remember her donation and take care of yourself. I told your father I’d look out for you, and you don’t want to make an old priest a liar. It’s sacrilegious.”
“Thanks again, Father Andy.” Cain stood and prepared to leave, hatching a plan.
“Want to go out the back?” Andy pointed to a door near the bay window. “I can have my car take you home.”
She shook her head and stepped closer to him. “My father always said you have to be seen to play the game. To do that I have to go out the front door. ’Cause you know what?”
“What?”
“I’m ready to play.” She wanted to see just how good her opponents really were.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Cain strode confidently up the main aisle, with only a quick glance to her right where the gift shop was located, before stepping out into the cool early afternoon. A car was parked across the street in front of the community theater, just as Cain had requested in a short call from Andy’s office. Since Shelby and Claire were on the opposite side of the square, Cain didn’t expect a tail, at least not from them.
Joe and Lionel made it out in time to see her jump into the back and close the door. Now that no one would see him, Joe pulled out his phone and called for backup. He described the car and its general direction, then called the surveillance van on the radio to join in on the conversation Lionel was already having with them. Joe knew that if they’d had the advantage, Cain had swiftly taken it back.
The car stopped at Vincent Carlotti’s offices so Cain could take care of some business before heading to her home, since she was ready to finish what she’d started with Giovanni and his sons. When they got to the house, Cain sat back and studied it.
It looked exactly like it did the last time she’d walked out the front door to head for the warehouse where Kyle had been waiting to kill her. Not a single paint chip was out of place, but Gino’s men hadn’t come from the front. Like his father, he’d taken the coward’s way and approached from the back, and that’s where the real savagery lay.
Cain had to take a few breaths before she could open the car door, though she knew Emma had tried to prepare her when she’d explained the damage. Now it was time to see for herself what had happened while she was in the hospital, and why Giovanni Bracato’s family would never come out of this intact.
Voices were filtering from different parts of the house, but Cain zeroed in on the one that belonged to the person she wanted to see. Emma was in Cain’s office sitting in the big leather chair full of gunshot holes, signing a contract with the moving company that was transporting the furniture to storage while the house was repaired.
“Just make sure everything that’s not already broken gets wrapped and packed really well, especially the things in my son’s room upstairs.”
The foreman was examining every square inch of the room while he listened. “We’ll be careful, ma’am. Can I ask what happened in here?”
“My wife hired a group of killers to shoot the place up so she’d have an excuse to remodel,” Cain answered from the doorway.
Emma slid the papers across the desk. “Funny guy.”
“But you love me anyway. Imagine that.”
“Yes, imagine that.”
The look between them was smoldering, and the man with the contract in his hand stood there staring.
“Do you have something else for me to sign?” Emma’s eyes never left Cain’s, but her question did snap the worker out of his trance.
“No, ma’am, I’m sorry.” He crumpled the papers in his hands a bit as he stumbled toward the door.
“Mrs. Casey, I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of your time?” Cain bent a little at the waist and held her hand out. “That is, if you’re free and could perhaps show me a room in the house that isn’t full of holes.”
They were on the first few steps heading upstairs when both Lou and Merrick started to follow them.
“Don’t even think about it,” Emma warned. “As a matter of fact, I want you both to stand here and shoot anyone who tries to climb these after us.”
Cain laughed softly as she followed Emma to what had been their bedroom. The space looked no different than the last time she had stepped out for the ill-fated meeting with Kyle. A shirt lay thrown over a chair near the closet and a half-full glass of water sat on the nightstand, but what caught Cain’s attention was the way Emma was staring at the picture still sitting near the phone.
*
“Tell me something,” Emma leaned over and whispered in Cain’s ear.
Emma was afraid the butter knife in Cain’s hand was going to bend from the pressure she was putting on it. The black dress and heels Emma was wearing had obviously put Cain on high alert from the time she’d picked her up.
“What?”
Emma laughed at the way Cain’s voice cracked on the simple word.
“You’re playing with fire,
Emma always dismissed the idle threats, knowing Cain was, above all things, noble. “I’ve been playing with fire for months now, so I’m pretty good at it,” she said. “But enough about that. I believe I asked you to tell me
