“That doesn’t explain how you could brutally murder someone. With a knife, no less.”
“My father’s terminally ill. He said our rivals were going to strike because everyone knew I didn’t really want to run the business. I wasn’t the man he was. No one feared me. I had to step up and show them I could be just as ruthless as my father.”
“So you committed murder to send a message?”
He didn’t answer. But I saw the truth in his eyes.
“Pretty extreme way to win your father’s approval.”
“Yeah. He got what he wanted. He even gave me the knife to do it. Now I’m just like him.”
Shame and self-loathing filled his face. I almost felt sorry for him.
“That blond woman from the park was a cop, you know. She’s looking for you,” I said.
“I figured she was.” He sank into a chair across from where I sat on the couch.
“They think you killed Ronnie Hodges, too.”
He gasped, shaking his head. Could he truly be surprised?
“I had nothing to do with that.”
“C’mon, Tony. A potential business rival? Stabbed to death? In a kitchen? Sounds like your M.O. to me, and I’m not even a cop.”
“I swear I didn’t kill him, Mace. I came down here to start a new life. I finally told my father I was out. I don’t care if he’s dying or not. I don’t want to be part of his world. Why would I revert right back to what I hated about him? What I hated in me?”
“Because once you’ve killed the first time, the second time is easier.”
Leaning toward me, he stared so deeply into my eyes that I feared he could see right through me to the floor beneath the couch, and the shotgun hidden there.
“You don’t know a thing about me. My father forced me to do something against my will and against my nature …”
“Did he actually put the knife in your hand?”
Anger flickered across his face. “Killing a man is not easy. Not the first time. Not ever. I never want to do it again. That’s why I’m running.”
“Running? You said you were turning yourself in.”
“When I thought about it, I realized I can’t go to prison as Sam Ciancio’s son. Every tough guy in there would want to prove himself by murdering me. I’d have to kill again to survive. It’d either be one of them, or me.”
He collapsed back against the chair, sighed. “I’m going someplace where they don’t even speak English. Nobody knows me. I can finally be free.”
“Uhm,” I said. “About that, Tony.”
He tilted his head at me. God, he was good-looking. He was bound to have a tough time in prison, one way or another.
“I’m sorry, but I had to call the police. They’re on their way as we speak.”
Almost before I realized what I was seeing, Tony’s hand jerked across his chest to the inside of his jacket. He pulled out a pistol. There was no smile now. Just green ice in his eyes and a gun aimed straight at me.
The charming Tony from before had disappeared. A killer sat across from me, probably intent on making me his next victim.
“You won’t get away. When I said the cops are coming, I meant now,” I lied. “I just heard the first car turn onto my drive.”
At the instant Tony whirled to look out the window, I doubled over and grabbed the shotgun from under the couch. Tony might be fast, but I am, too. The weapon was pumped and ready, almost before he had time to register the fact I was armed. The cops weren’t outside.
He looked from the window to me, holding the gun. “You lied to me.”
“Yeah, and you killed a man. Maybe you killed Ronnie Hodges, too. I wasn’t taking any chances.”
We stared at each other over the expanse of my coffee table; two Old West gunslingers ready to fire if the other so much as flinched. I don’t know about Tony, but my heart was about to explode through my chest. I hoped he wouldn’t notice the barrel of the shotgun shaking.
“I told you I had nothing to do with Ronnie. Why would I admit to one murder and lie about the other?”
“Because Florida has capital punishment. The murder here could get you the needle.”
He shook his head. “I wasn’t lying. I thought we were friends. I thought I could trust you.”
“That was your first mistake.”
He looked toward the yard again. “Did you really call the cops?”
I nodded. “Yeah, but I calculated some extra time because I wanted to talk to you first, see if you could explain. I wanted to find out before Mama’s wedding if you killed Ronnie.”
“Do you think I did?”
I looked into his eyes. I saw no cruelty there. No murderous rage. He seemed sad; wounded. I remembered how he jumped up to help the waitress at Gladys’ Diner. How kind he was to the old couple at the Speckled Perch. How he rescued a turtle from the highway. Then I flashed on the Tony I’d witnessed in my living room, cursing into his cell phone, fully in command. Not to mention the Tony holding me at gunpoint right now.
Finally, I shrugged. “I can’t say whether you killed him. I pray you didn’t.”
A spark of hope died in his eyes. His next move was unexpected. He stooped, slowly placing his handgun on the floor. Rising, he put up his hands in surrender.
“I’m unarmed. I’m going to walk out, get in my car, and go before the cops get here. Shoot me if you want. I’d rather die than go to prison.”
As he turned and trudged to the door, time seemed frozen. My finger rested on the trigger. The stock of the gun weighed heavily against my shoulder. When he stepped through the door, I lowered the barrel.
There was no way I’d shoot an unarmed man in the back, and he knew it. Tony had outmaneuvered me.
I followed, calling to him from the porch. “You won’t get far. The cops are probably speeding down State Road 98 right now. It’ll go better for you if you stay here and let them arrest you. Face what you’ve done.”
Still walking, he spoke over his shoulder. “Tell my aunt I’m sorry.”
As Tony got in his car, I hurried inside to the house phone. I heard the engine start as I hit speed dial for Carlos. Phone to my ear, I crossed to the window. The Lexus sped from my yard, shock absorbers getting a workout over the bumps and ruts of the unpaved drive. As the number rang, I tried to figure out how to spin the morning’s events so Carlos wouldn’t be furious.
_____
“You WHAT?”
I’d already recited the basics: What Tony was driving, when he’d left, and from what location so Carlos could relay the information over the police radio. Now, I was spinning; but he wasn’t buying.
“When Tony got here early, I took the opportunity to talk to him. How was I supposed to know he’d be armed?”
Of course, I must have suspected. Why else would I have hidden the shotgun?
“We had to dot the legal i’s and cross our jurisdictional t’s, but you should have called immediately, Mace. I would’ve had someone on the scene. Now, we’ve lost the element of surprise. We may never find him. Even worse, you could have been hurt.”
At least Carlos still thought my being hurt would be a negative. Would that still hold true if I confessed I’d built in the extra time so I could interrogate Tony?
“I’m sorry. I made a mistake. But I’m worried about Mama’s wedding. I don’t think Tony murdered Ronnie. That means whoever did is still out there. What if the killer has something awful planned for today?”
“Jane’s pretty sure Tony did it,” Carlos said.