He thought about that, then said, “It’s still none of your business.”

“All right. Don’t let me keep you from your dinner. Thank you for your hospitality. You have a nice family. I especially like your uncle Sal. And just so there’s no misunderstanding concerning Susan Sutter, I’m informing you now, as her attorney, that I’m going to have Susan swear out a complaint with the police, and go on record as being concerned about her safety regarding your intentions toward her. So, if anything should happen to her, the police will know who to talk to. Capisce?”

I expected him to go totally nuts, but he just stood there, staring past me. So I said, “Good day,” and I turned and started walking across his lawn.

“John.”

I turned, half expecting to see a gun, but instead he walked toward me, stopped, and in a conciliatory tone of voice said, “Hey, John, you don’t have to go complaining to the cops. We’re men. We can talk.”

“We’ve talked.”

“I thought you understood what I was saying. About what you did for my father. I told you that night I stopped by, I owed you a favor for saving his life. So you mentioned something about your wife. Remember? I wasn’t sure what you wanted, but now I understand. There was never a problem there anyway. But if you think there is, and that’s the favor you want, then you got it.” He added, “I swear this on my father’s grave.”

That should have been the end of it, but only if I trusted him, and I definitely did not. Given the choice between swearing out a complaint with the police and Anthony Bellarosa’s word of honor, I’d put my money and my life and Susan’s on the sworn complaint against Anthony. And the shotgun.

Anthony waited for a reply, but when none was forthcoming, he said, “No hard feelings. We go our separate ways, and you stop worrying about whatever you’re worried about. We’re all even now on favors.”

I didn’t want Anthony Bellarosa to think he was doing me any favors, even if we both knew he was lying, so I informed him, “Your father already repaid me for saving his life. So you don’t owe me anything.”

This seemed to surprise him, and he said, “Yeah? He paid you back for saving his life? Good. But I’ll pay you back again for that.”

“I do not want any favors from you.”

“Yeah?” He was clearly getting angry and impatient with me for not accepting his good wishes for a happy, worry-free life, and his promise not to kill Susan. So he said, “You’re an asshole. Get the fuck out of here.”

That really pissed me off, so I decided that Anthony now needed to know how his father repaid the favor. I moved closer to him, and we were barely two feet apart.

“Yeah? What?”

“Your father, Anthony, was in love with my wife, and she was in love with him, and they were ready to run off together, and leave you, your brothers, and your mother-”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“But he owed me his life, so-”

“He was fucking her. That’s all he was doing. Fucking your wife for sport.”

“So I asked him to tell her it was over, and that he never loved her-”

“You’re full of shit.”

“And he did that for me, and unfortunately Susan, who was in love with him, snapped, and-”

“Get the hell out of here.”

“Anthony, that’s why she killed him. She loved him and he loved her, and he broke his promise to take her with him to Italy under the Witness Protection Program.”

“How the fuck do you know-?”

“He was a government witness, Anthony, and you know that as well as I do. Look it up online. It’s all there.” He didn’t respond to that, so I concluded, “You asked me for the truth about your father, and I just gave it to you.”

He practically put his nose in my face and spoke in a slow, deliberate tone. “None of that changes what your wife did. Just so you know.”

I put my hand on his chest and pushed him back, ready for any move he might make, but he just stood there, staring at me. I said to him, “That sounds like a threat. Is that a threat?”

He should have backed off on that, but I’d pressed the right buttons, and he said, “Take it any way you want.”

“I take it as a threat. And so will the police.”

He didn’t reply, and I turned my back on him and walked toward my car.

He called out to me, “You think guys like you don’t have to worry about guys like me. Well, Counselor, you’re wrong about that.”

I was glad he understood the concept, but I wasn’t sure he was smart enough or cool enough, like his father, to know when to shut his mouth, take a hit, and move on. Or since he’d threatened Susan in front of me, then threatened me, he might be thinking he needed to get rid of both of us.

I got in my car, and as I pulled away from his house, I saw he was still standing on the lawn watching me.

I headed out of Alhambra Estates.

Now, I thought, I didn’t have to protect Susan from afar; we were together, and Anthony and I were also where we belonged: nose to nose with everything out in the open.

I stopped the car where the blacktop ended, and I looked at where Alhambra had stood, remembering the library where Frank Bellarosa and I had sat with cigars and grappa, talking about Machiavelli and about the murder charge he was facing. And before I knew it, I was part of the family. Well, history did not repeat itself this time, but history was still driving the bus.

The last time I saw Bellarosa, as I said, he was lying half-naked and dead on the floor of the palm court, beneath the mezzanine outside his bedroom. I looked to where I thought the palm court had been, where a long blacktop driveway now led to the garage of a small villa, and I could actually picture him lying there.

I took a last look around me, knowing I’d probably never again be on the grounds of Alhambra, then I continued on, past the guard booth, and turned right on Grace Lane for the quarter-mile drive back to the guest cottage of Stanhope Hall.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

I drove through the open gates of Stanhope Hall, past the gatehouse, and up the tree-lined drive to the guest cottage, where I parked next to Susan’s Lexus.

I got out of the car and went to the front door. Susan never used to lock doors, and still didn’t, so I opened the door, went into the foyer, and as I used to do, I called out, “Sweetheart, I’m home!”

No reply, so I went into the kitchen, and I could see her on the back patio, sitting in a chaise lounge, reading a magazine.

I opened the door, and she stood quickly, hurried toward me, and wrapped her arms around me, saying, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home.” She gave me a kiss and asked, “Did you tell him?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“Well, as I expected, he didn’t take the news of our reunion very well.”

“Why did you even tell him that? That is none of his business. All you had to tell him was that you were not going to work for him.”

“Right. Normally I wouldn’t announce my engagement to a Mafia don, but I wanted him to know we were together, and that you were not alone.”

She thought about that, then replied, “All right… but I still think you’re overreacting.”

She wouldn’t think that if she’d stood with me and Anthony Bellarosa on his front lawn, but I didn’t want to alarm her, so I said, “I don’t think there will be any problem… but tomorrow, you and I will go to the local precinct and you need to swear out a complaint against Anthony Bellarosa, so that-”

“John, I don’t need to do that.” She added, “That might actually make him-”

“Susan. We will do this my way, and I don’t want any arguments. I want him to know that the police are aware of the situation. Understand?”

She looked at me, and despite my matter-of-fact tone, I could tell that she knew that I was concerned. She said, “All right.” Then she changed the subject and asked me, “Did you see Anna?”