When Truth Takes Flight Read online

  They arrived at the compound within thirty minutes. He remembered days spent playing on the high stone walls that surrounded several acres of lawns, trees, and a large house, built with thick, concrete walls overlaid with river rocks.

  The arched trellis was still intact with thick-rooted vines climbing up the sides and across the top, and with huge clumps of purple flowers hanging down like bunches of grapes.

  Wisteria.

  Now, why in the world do I remember that?

  Once standing outside the car, he surveyed the area. “Hardly anything has changed since I was last here.”

  The driver shrugged, then lifted an arm to point off to the right, indicating the path leading toward the backyard.

  “Friendly sort,” John muttered, adjusting his tie and running a hand along his shirt to assure it was tucked in properly.

  He felt a presence press up near his back. A shudder ran down his spine even as he sucked in a breath and hesitated. But just as quickly, logic replaced fear. Why would anyone have anything against him? Besides, surely no one other than Vince and his men even knew about the visit.

  Still, when a hand gripped his shoulder, he jerked around, prepared to face whatever threat had closed in.

  Instantly, his fist relaxed. “Leo,” he said, releasing a nervous laugh as Vince’s lieutenant wrapped him in a bear hug. Two arms clamped him in a beefy vice, preventing him from drawing a breath. The man’s large palm pounded on his back, threatening to leave bruises as evidence of his enthusiasm.

  “Hey, boy. It’s been a long time.”

  The embrace lasted only seconds—long enough to remind him of the card games and his first puff on a cigarette—two things that would have upset his mother had she known. John sucked in much-needed air, covered his mouth to cough once, and then drew another slow, deep breath.

  “You sick, kid?” A frown sent the bushy brows darting together.

  “No, no, I’m fine.” He chuckled, trying to reassure his stepfather’s bodyguard and best friend.

  “Luggage?”

  He held up the satchel that contained a toothbrush, underwear, and a clean shirt. “Nope, just this.”

  “Then come on, boy. Vince thought it safer for you to arrive at a hotel, but safer for him if you were brought to the house. He’s waiting, and he’s not exactly a patient man.” Leo released a barrel laugh that drew the other guard’s attention.

  John straightened under the pressure of the bodyguard’s arm around his shoulder as the older man took possession of the satchel with his free hand.

  “I’ll take care of putting this in your room. You know, the old man never changed it. All the pennants still hang on the walls.”

  A nod apparently satisfied him, so John changed the subject. “I’ve been away a lot of years. How is everyone?”

  Leo glanced toward the backyard. “We’ve lost a few members over the years. Mostly because of one family—one who deals dirty.”

  He knew the man referred to the family who dealt in illegal drugs but wasn’t sure why that should cause a clash with the Giovanni family who dealt in betting and liquor.

  “Yeah, Vince is holding off for a bit, but soon they’ll understand their mistake, and some of theirs will be on the dirt side of the grass, if you know what I mean.”

  The slow, low-pitched chuckle sent a shiver down John’s back. The man was sharing too much. “I’m not here to join Vince. I’m here for a day or so to have a meal and share old times. I’m an aeronautical engineer now—I’m going to design planes.”

  Leo scrunched his brows together. “Oh, sure, kid. Sure. Sorry. I thought…well, never mind what I thought.” He removed his arm from John’s shoulders.

  At the fence, they parted ways, Leo heading along the graveled path that led to a side door while he tossed a parting comment over a shoulder. “The old man’s around back. Enjoy the visit.”

  He hated making the man uncomfortable, but better that than have him shell out any more information about “the business”—a business he wanted nothing to do with.

  John nodded and moved on, but a chill ran down his back. What had his stepfather said to make Leo think he’d be joining the family? Or maybe the bodyguard just assumed he’d want to join the business.

  At least the slip alerted me. I’ll need to be more cautious about saying anything that can be misunderstood.

  Vince no doubt had reasons for this invitation, but he wasn’t the only one with an agenda. This trip was for one reason and one reason only. Sure, he wanted to see his stepfather again after so many years, but mainly, he wanted to thank him for financing the college degree. Without his help, he wouldn’t now be in a position to realize his life-long dream of designing airplanes. He owed Vince a lot. Loyalty—definitely—but not his life. Of course, if his mother’s prediction was right, there would soon be a job offered that he’d have to turn down.

  He prayed his mother was wrong.

  Behind the house, a ten-foot, ivy-covered, stone fence surrounded an acre of lawn. Giant oak trees shaded the far end of the enclosure and hid a carriage house left over from horse and buggy days.

  He remembered the story about Vince finding a secret tunnel while remodeling the ten by twelve structure to house a few extra beds for times when additional guards were needed. The tunnel led to the cellar in the big house, so Vince told his new wife and stepson to hide there if the compound was ever attacked. He’d assured them only the closest family members knew about the escape route, and those privileged few knew to guard the secret at the risk of their very lives.

  He still got cold chills just thinking about the nightmares he’d had as a kid—nightmares where he ran for the tunnel with the hounds of hell on his heels, but the door remained just beyond his reach. He remembered several occasions when his mother came to sit with him until he fell back asleep. Had that been when her disillusionment about being married to Vince first started?

  Rounding the side of the house, he took in the cluster of maple trees that had tripled in size over the years and now completely shaded the covered, flagstone veranda where green and white lounge chairs sat in groups of threes and fours. Two burly young men stood sentinel in front of an ivy-covered lattice near the patio.

  He took a deep breath and continued on.

  “Johnny, my boy.” Vince stood, a broad smile transforming the sharp lines of the older man’s face. “Come, come,” he said, heading forward. He waved his hand like a policeman directing traffic through an intersection.

  John hesitated for a heartbeat. He remembered Vince as standing tall with broad shoulders and a piercing look that quailed most grown men. Satan had apparently called in some markers, and time had taken a toll.

  “You’re looking good, son.”

  He blinked a couple times when his stepfather slapped him on the back and then wrapped him in a hug that felt like old times. The older man was still strong despite the rounded shoulders and hair beginning to gray at the temples.

  “How are you, Vince?” he asked, returning the embrace.

  “I’m not complaining.” His stepfather chuckled. “Glad you could come, boy. Here…” He turned around and motioned to one of two lounge chairs separated by a small table. “Al, remember him?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “For lunch, he’s making that lasagna you always loved, but first, I asked him to bring us a couple tall glasses of something cool to drink. You look hot. Take your tie off and relax.”

  As they sat, Al stepped onto the patio carrying a tray with two cut-crystal goblets filled with ice cubes and a matching pitcher of sweetened tea. The burly bodyguard had a day’s growth of whiskers and a gun strapped under his arm—but he could hold his own competing against any professional chef in town. At least as far as he was concerned.

  As Al filled the glasses, John removed the tie, rolled it up, and stuffed it in a pocket of his jacket folded over the arm of his chair, then reached out to take the offering.

  The first sip slid down his parched throat, easing the
tightness, but not his wariness. Oh sure, he was glad to see Vince, but something was different—off key—out of balance.

  He downed half the tea before relaxing his arm to set the glass on the table. The cool liquid tasted good, a hint of lemon to cut the sweetness of the brew, but it settled in his stomach to churn and irritate.

  Vince leaned back, wincing slightly when he turned to set his glass beside John’s. “So, how’s your mother doing? How’s Gracie?”

  The question came as a surprise, a swing out of left field. “Do you really care—or are we just making polite conversation?” He frowned, his stomach muscles knotting. Why had he reacted with such defensiveness? There was no need to be so rude. “Sorry, that was uncalled for.”

  “No, no. I guess it’s understandable,” he said, drawing in a deep breath and allowing it to escape in a long sigh. “I still care about Gracie—regardless of what happened and…”

  “What actually happened?” No way could he allow such a great opening to pass without asking one of the many questions that had nagged him over the past ten years. “Life seemed good, and then I’m being moved to Mobile, and I don’t hear from you until I graduate high school. And why did you offer me the chance to go to college? While I’m appreciative, it’s not as if I’m really your son or anything.”

  His heart pounded as the seconds ticked by while the older man only stared at him. Would the great don give him a straight answer?

  The silence stretched before Vince finally nodded and settled back into the lounge chair. “That was so many years ago, but I guess I owe you an explanation—at least my side of it. I’m sure you’ve heard your mother’s side already.” He flicked at a fly buzzing near his glass.

  “No. She refused to speak about you when I’d ask, and wasn’t happy about this visit. Just before I came, she begged me not to join your…business.”

  “No, no,” he said, waving a hand in dismissal. “That was never my intention. You’re smart, boy, but you don’t have the right temperament for this line of work. So, what are your plans for the future? Where do you want to work?”

  It didn’t escape his notice that Vince had sidestepped his questions, but he decided not to press him—at least not at the moment. “Hughes Aircraft is at the top of my list.”

  “Ah, yes, Howard.” He scratched his jaw, staring off toward the end of the lawn before finally speaking. “I met him a few years ago. He owes me a favor. I’ll give him a call and put in a good word for you. Your interview will be a snap.”

  “No!” John’s muscles tightened. “I’d rather get the job on my own, if you don’t mind. I was in the top five percent of my class. I won’t have a problem.”

  Vince’s eyes widened slightly, then he slowly nodded. “Okay, if that’s how you want to handle it. In fact, I admire that you want to make your own way. You were always a good boy.”

  The older man reached for his tea glass, nodding as if affirming his own statement. This wasn’t the Vince from years before. He’d seen the man quietly bulldoze someone into doing what he wanted. Would Vince keep out of the hiring process or go behind his back? He might never know for sure, but not accepting the offer kept him free from obligation.

  He gradually relaxed his shoulders but didn’t totally let down his guard. There were still questions to be answered, for him…and his mother. “Vince, you sidestepped my questions a bit ago about what happened between you and my mother, but I have another question—and I’d really like to know the answer to this one.” He had the man’s attention, and his heart rate did a little jig, but now that he had started, forward was the only direction to go. “Before I came up here, my mother mentioned your first wife got pregnant and you kicked her out. Is that true?”

  “No.” Vince’s face tightened, his eyes narrowing to mere slits.

  The flat refusal followed by silence made him wonder if his stepfather would elaborate or issue the abrupt denial and leave it at that. He had never been afraid of Vince—never had reason to—so why was he dreading the man’s answer to a simple question? If only his mother had kept her concerns to herself.

  He forced himself to be patient and wait. It didn’t take long.

  “My first wife and I were young.” His scowl eased as he shifted his focus down to large, strong hands. “When I first saw Sadie, it was un colpo di fulmine. Love at first sight.” A deep sigh slowly released into the sultry afternoon breeze. “She thought I was a business man.” He smiled, a shrug barely moving his shoulders. “I wasn’t sure how she’d take me being a family lieutenant, so I kept that part to myself.” He heaved another big exhale and raised his gaze to again stare out across the lawn toward the grove of trees. “Maybe that was wrong. Needless to say, it caused quite a fight when she eventually found out. She was a mulinyan, you know, not Italian. My father told me when I turned eighteen to enjoy the girls, but when I married, be sure she was a good, Catholic girl, and above everything else, she had to be Italian. But I was in love, you know?” He chuckled softly, reaching up to press a hand over his heart.

  John remained silent, waiting, not wanting to interrupt the flow.

  “She finally asked, and I admitted the truth, but it frightened her. I guess I don’t blame her, especially since the don, my uncle, was killed in a dispute between two of the families not six months later.” He sighed, reached for the glass, and drained it. “Unfortunately for our marriage, I was the don’s replacement. I had no problem with the new job, but my little Sadie turned sullen and moody. I’m knee-deep in a major counter attack—the men all going to the mattresses, you know—and one morning, I find my wife has disappeared during the night.”

  “Where did she go?” If Vince was being honest with him, then it didn’t sound as if he’d kicked out his wife as his mother believed.

  He fanned the fly away again. “I got business taken care of here and then had a couple of my men find her. She’d moved out to California.”

  His stepfather smiled for the first time. John could see the fondness in his expression. But if he still cared, why were they not together? “Why did you divorce her?”

  The older eyes narrowed, but after a few moments, he drew in a breath and said simply, “I loved Sadie, but she never understood my way of life.”

  John frowned as Vince flicked his hand in a jerky wave, as if wiping the slate clean from years earlier. Was it that easy for the man to dismiss his former wife?

  “I made sure she got a job and that the owner of the boarding house where she lived offered her free rent for managing the place.”

  “But why didn’t you just go get her?” His next thought hit him in the stomach like an angry fist. Not divorcing his wife would have meant his own mother would have never married Vince—and he would have missed out on having a father, even for those few precious years. He held a breath, waiting for Vince’s answer.

  “Things were still volatile between the families, and it wasn’t safe here. The day I found out that Sadie was expecting a baby, I did almost fly out there to haul her home, but another family don thought the time was right to come after me,” he explained, tapping his own chest. “When you’re young, some think that makes you inexperienced and lacking what it takes to order hits that need to happen. I had to prove myself.”

  John didn’t bother asking what had transpired for Vince to gain the respect of the other dons. All through high school, he’d read in the newspaper about the long-term Castellammarese war going nationwide when two of their leaders were killed. Eventually, Lucky Luciano somehow got the five New York families, the Chicago Outfit, and the Buffalo Mafia to join forces to regulate the Mafia in America, but it had been a bloody business. The papers reported the American Mafia, or “La Cosa Nostra,” was ruled by a group of men called “The Commission.” He’d cut articles from the newspaper, especially those with Vince’s name listed, and kept a scrapbook, fascinated by the organization, even while being appalled by the death and destruction.

  “It took some months to straighten things out, and by
then, she’d had a baby girl. I was angry at first, but my consigliere convinced me Sadie and Hannah were safer not being associated with me, and since she was using her maiden name, chances were good no one would ever suspect. For their safety, I allowed them to live in Los Angeles. Of course, if she’d had a boy, everything would have been different. A boy needs a father—someone to teach him how to be a man. But a girl…” He shrugged, raising both hands, palms up. “I sent a man to watch out for them—just to be sure they were safe, that our enemies didn’t know where Sadie and the baby lived. He let me know if either of them needed anything.”

  Vince waved a hand in the air as if dismissing something as unimportant. John frowned, not sure how to deal with such easy disregard of a wife and child. Sure, he didn’t have either of those things himself, but he couldn’t imagine living that far from a woman he loved, or not being involved in his child’s life.

  “Anyway, after three years, I slipped a few thousand dollars under the table and quietly had the marriage annulled.”

  The man’s indifference to having a little girl left John shaken. Vince’s delivery was cold, unemotional. Over the years, he’d learned more about the mafia, so his youthful hero-worship had dimmed, but he had always respected the man’s concern for his employees and his family. Now, he wasn’t sure what to say next.

  After a minute, Vince stood, and John followed the older man’s lead, moving into the house. “Something smells wonderful in here.” He didn’t stop the chuckle when his stomach added its unique comments to the conversation.

  On the way to the dining room, his host stopped at the upright piano and reached for an oval-framed picture. “It’s five years old, but this is my Hannah when she graduated high school.”

  He took the offered picture and stared down into the face of a young teen whose smile radiated with joy and excitement—excitement in life and her accomplishment as she held up a diploma.

  The chill started low in his back and spread up to raise bumps on his arms. She was young, but he felt a connection that he couldn’t explain. She was innocent and happy—what he wanted for himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled with abandon and actually felt jovial and carefree.