Chapter 2 - The Red Notebook with Crayon Clues
Marco Vitelli. The name hit Dante like a gunshot in a crowded cathedral. Just ninety minutes ago, Dante had walked out of an Italian steakhouse downtown after Marco Vitelli had smugly suggested Dante’s security perimeter was getting soft. Marco had looked at him with an oily, knowing grin that Dante had chalked up to typical syndicate posturing. But if Marco was talking directly to the woman who slept against Dante’s chest, it wasn't posturing at all. It was an execution date waiting for a calendar entry.
Dante took a slow, measured breath. He had interrogated cutthroats, crooked politicians, and federal agents, but sitting on cold tiles across from a preschooler in mismatched socks required a totally different set of rules.
"Sophie," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low, calm cadence. "Where did you see this second phone?"
Sophie scrambled forward on all fours, completely unfazed by the fearsome man towering over her. She reached into the pocket of her faded denim overalls and pulled out a tiny spiral notebook with a chewed-up yellow pencil stuck through the wire binding. The cover was decorated with glittery unicorn stickers, now peeling at the edges.
"Detectives write everything down," she declared solemnly, tapping her temple. "My mommy said good girls don't snoop, but I'm not snooping. I'm investigating. She left her bathroom door open yesterday while you were in your big black car."
She opened the notebook. Inside, written in thick, clumsy red crayon, were rows of drawings mixed with phonetic scribbles.
"Look," she pointed with a small index finger. "That's a square with buttons. That's the black phone. She keeps it hidden under the smelly flower soaps in the wicker basket under the vanity."
Dante glanced toward the adjoining dressing room. The en-suite bathroom was shared between his study and the primary suite, though he rarely used the master bath when Julianna was awake.
"And what did she say on this phone?" Dante asked.
"She said, 'He’s meeting you at the restaurant on Michigan Avenue at eight,'" Sophie recited, imitating a breathy, irritated female voice with startling accuracy. "Then she said, 'Make sure it looks like an accident, because I want the penthouse in River North.' And then she laughed like the evil witch in my fairy tale book."
A cold, razor-sharp fury crystallized in the pit of Dante's stomach. The meeting at Michigan Avenue had indeed been set for eight o’clock. If he hadn't trusted his gut and left forty minutes early after catching the unnatural gleam in Marco Vitelli’s eyes, he would have been sitting beside the floor-to-ceiling glass window when the Vitelli hit squad rolled past.
He stared at the crude red crayon drawing. It was childish, innocent, and undeniably lethal.
"Why didn't you tell your mother?" Dante asked quietly.
Sophie looked down at her shoes, her lower lip trembling slightly. "Mommy is scared of Miss Julianna. Miss Julianna yelled at Mommy last week because she found water spots on the wine glasses. Miss Julianna said if Mommy didn't watch out, she'd make sure we both had to sleep on the street. Mommy cried all night in our room downstairs."
Dante felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. Elena was a quiet, hardworking widow whose husband had died saving Dante’s father in an alleyway twenty years ago. The Moretti family owed Elena a debt of blood and honor. She was supposed to be safe in this house. Her child was supposed to play in the gardens without fear.
"Nobody puts you or your mother on the street, Sophie," Dante said, his voice flat and absolute. "Do you understand me? Nobody."
Sophie looked up, her wide brown eyes searching his hard, scarred face. Children possessed an instinct for predators; they knew when a man was dangerous. Yet, instead of shrinking back, she smiled, revealing a gap where her front left tooth was beginning to loosen.
"I knew you were the good guy," she whispered. "Can I be your deputy?"
Dante paused. The Boss of Chicago, feared by every crew from Lake Michigan to the suburbs, looked at the tiny plastic magnifying glass hanging between them.
May you like
"Only if you follow orders, Deputy," Dante said softly. "Rule number one: whatever happens tonight, you stay close to your mother. Rule number two: Miss Julianna must never know you saw that phone."
"Cross my heart," Sophie said, drawing an energetic 'X' over her chest. "Now what's the plan, Chief?"
