Carlo shrugged. Carmine interjected. “Maybe the bomb scared her boss. None of you saw how bad she was when Flavio sent her away. She could have become fearful of Gio and ran.”
“We can’t tell Gio until we find out more.” Lorenzo said.
Carlo nodded. “Agreed.”
Both men lifted their guns and aimed.
“Wait? You can’t do this. You need me! I have the photos. You can’t kill me!”
“For Fabiana.” Lorenzo said. He pulled the trigger repeatedly until the gun clicked noisily, now empty of bullets. Lorenzo and Carmine did the same. What was left of Fish was barely recognizable from the pigeon shit and mucky rainwater splattered along the cobblestone alley.
****
“Hello?” Giovanni groaned, barely awake.
“He’s dead.” A voice said through the line.
Giovanni opened his eyes. The words were of no comfort. “Angelo?”
“We are still looking for him, Gio, but we got Fish and—.”
Giovanni slammed the phone down on the rest of Lorenzo’s excuses. He heaved a deep sigh, and then rolled over, back to his misery.
Chapter One
One week later
Muri, Switzerland
“Eve Fabiana Battaglia you come to Mommy now.” Mira placed her hands on her hips. The door to the pantry was flung wide behind her. At her feet were two spilled containers of grains and rice. She couldn’t believe a toddler could cause so much destruction. However, Eve was a smart girl. Stubborn and crafty, she slipped in and out of rooms until her mother heard a crash and saw her little feet pedal her away. This morning was no different. Never in her life had Mira seen a baby so fixated on a single treat. Eve usually spat out sweets, but oatmeal or chocolate cookies from the local bakery were her absolute favorite. She wasn’t quite two yet. Her birthday would arrive this January.
The other day they were in the kitchen, Mira intended to fix lunch, and Eve wanted cookies off the middle shelf in the pantry. She’d grabbed her mother’s hand and dragged her to the food closet, pointing. Mira refused and kept at the business of prepping a sandwich of jam spread and peanut butter. Within minutes she looked over and found her daughter climbing the shelves like a little monkey trying to reach the bag of cookies. Scared her to death.
“Eve?” Mira said in a slightly raised voice.
Kei entered the kitchen from the opposite side. He sat down at the table with a paper in his hand for reading. Mira hoped he didn’t intervene. It irked her how he constantly came behind her and spoiled Eve or gave her whatever had prompted her temper tantrum. Since his arrival she’d been unable to convince Eve to sit on the potty. Her daughter just went to her diaper bag, collected one and walked it over to Kei for changing.
“What has my Little Rabbit done this morning?” Kei asked.
“Look!” Mira pointed to her feet and the spill. Kei chuckled.
Little Rabbit peeked around the corner of the kitchen cabinet at her while sucking hard and fast on a cherry red pacifier. The look of defiance on her cherubic face forced Mira to smile. Her mocha skin, a rich toffee-brown color, and her clear blue eyes under long dark lashes always seemed to twinkle with more wisdom than a babe of one and a half years should possess. If and when they ever visited the streets of Muri people would stop to compliment her and then frown up at her Black American mother and Chinese American father when she batted those round baby blues at them. They definitely made some pair. Eve wore yellow pajamas with the feet attached. Her hair was a riot of crinkly sandy brownish-blonde curls. She placed her tiny hand on the edge of the cornered wall and moved halfway into view.