Bree frowned, remembering the wide-open spaces and the friendly, relaxed atmosphere. “It didn’t seem like that at all.”
“That’s because you saw only what they wanted you to see, Bree,” he said, frustration lacing his voice. “Don’t think for a minute that every moment you spent up there wasn’t orchestrated to suit their own agenda.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bree
Bree’s head was swimming. Lenny had been so earnest. He didn’t seem like the type to fabricate tales outright even if she did get the impression that his contempt was rooted in personal dislike.
The bottom line was, what he’d told her provided some semi-rational explanation for the anti-Sanctuary vibes she’d picked up from him and others, but without proof or corroborating evidence, it was still just hearsay.
Or maybe you just don’t want to believe any of it. She certainly didn’t want to believe that her time with Nick had been part of a plan to promote a false image. Could she trust that her judgment hadn’t been clouded by her less than professional attraction to Nick?
The answer was, she wasn’t sure. She wanted to believe her instincts were on point, but the truth was, Lenny’s claims of manipulation and seduction had hit a nerve. Had Nick’s focused attention been nothing more than a carefully orchestrated distraction? The thought was disturbing.
She picked up her phone and called Toni the moment she finished typing up the last of her notes. She needed to talk things through and get an objective opinion, and Toni was a great sounding board. The other woman picked up after several rings, slightly out of breath.
“Hey, where’ve you been?” Toni chastised. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for hours.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s been a busy day. Hey, do you still have the name of that private arson investigator Hunter used on that insurance fraud ring he busted last year?”
“Yeah, hang on. It’s in here somewhere.”
Bree heard the telltale whir and flap-flap-flap of Toni’s Rolodex. It had been her father’s—the only physical link Toni had to him.
“Here it is.” Toni recited the info. “Is this about the Winston fire? Do you think you found a firebug?”
“I don’t know. I’m not really sure what I’m looking for. I just know something’s not adding up.”
“The nose always knows,” Toni said. “I swear, you’re like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out the good stuff. Speaking of, how’d your field trip with Green Eyes go? Everything okay? Are you okay?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” Bree answered and then realized her paranoia and self-doubt were showing. Her time with Nick had been good—at least until Lenny had made her doubt her own instincts. “We went horseback riding and cooked over an open fire.” Had some thigh-quivering sexy times under the stars, and then I discovered it might have all been staged, she added silently.
“You’re not going to see him again, are you?”
They didn’t have plans to meet again, but Bree had been considering asking him to meet for a final breakfast before she left, especially after talking to Lenny. “Nothing definite.”
Toni exhaled audibly. “Good. Don’t.”
“Why not?”
“I knew it! He didn’t tell you, did he? Because if he had, you never would have agreed to go anywhere with him in the first place.”
Had Toni found something in Nick’s background that would validate Lenny’s theories?
“Calm down. You’re not making any sense. What is it that you think Nick didn’t tell me?”
“That Green Eyes is actually Nicholas Fumanti!”
A chill ran the length of Bree’s spine, not so much at the name itself as the emphasis with which Toni had spoken it. “So? Fumanti’s a common name.”
“True. But how many of them are part of the Cagliano crime family?”
No! The denial rallied loudly in Bree’s head. Her Nick couldn’t possibly be connected to that world. Nick wasn’t one of them. He couldn’t be. He had red hair and green eyes, for God’s sake.
“There has to be some mistake. Did you verify?”
“I’m insulted you even asked. Do you think I’d lay something like that on you without verifying?”
Bree’s heart beat faster as she tried to accept what Toni had told her, searching for rational explanations. Maybe Nick had distanced himself from his family, as she had. Maybe he didn’t like to talk about it. God knew, she didn’t. She was still surprised by the fact that she’d said anything in the diner.
She thought back to those moments—her words and how she must have sounded, especially to someone who’d been part of that life ... and possibly still was. Maybe that was why he hadn’t mentioned it. He hadn’t wanted her bias to negatively affect her opinion of him or Sanctuary.
Like Toni was doing at that very moment.
Toni continued, “You’d never know based on his looks, but yeah. Father, Luciano Fumanti. Mother, Maeve Kelly. I guess he takes after his mother’s side. Weird, with recessive genes and all, but science never was my best subject. And there was Great Aunt Giorgia. She was Italian, and she had bright red hair, remember?”
“Toni.”
“Right. So, as I was saying”—Toni emphasized the word as if Bree had been the one to get her off track—“Green Eyes taking after mom instead of dad isn’t necessarily a good thing. His mother’s family is more ruthless than his father’s.”
“Why do you say that?” Bree asked, rubbing at the blossoming ache between her eyes, sensing she wasn’t going to like the answer.
“Maeve Kelly? Only daughter of Mickey Kelly? Irish mob? Any of this ringing a bell?”
Unlike Toni, who found the Mafia a fascinating subject and knew all of the major players, Bree had tried to distance herself from that world as much as possible.
Bree searched her distant memories for the name among the well-known Irish American faction that controlled the West Side of Manhattan. “Doesn’t sound familiar. Are you talking about the Westies?”
“Not directly, no. Mickey Kelly’s from
