The Price Of Secrecy (10 page)

He
didn’t want her thinking she was only a sex toy to him. She was far more than
that. So it was time to do something concrete. It was time to dig into her
background more thoroughly, and time to consult Viggo again for advice on how
to handle this. He had no one else to ask.

****

Later
that evening, after he and Angela had made love again and Dominic made sure she
was asleep, he made his weekly checks on the Trapani and Rossi family members.
Doing them last week had completely slipped his mind because most of his concentration
had been on hiring more team members to work with Angela, and the rest of his
focus had been on spending as much time with her as possible.

He
nearly choked on the sip of bourbon he’d taken when he found something he
hadn’t expected to see. Leo had a visitor recorded, two weeks ago, right after
Dominic had done the last check. In all the years Dominic had been doing this,
Leo had never had anyone show up to visit him at the federal penitentiary in
CentralEast.

Dominic
refreshed the screen, his hands shaking, and read the log again just to be
sure. Nicholas Cordova had come to see Leo Trapani thirteen days ago, at two in
the afternoon, and had stayed for an hour. Nicholas Cordova … Why did that name
sound familiar? Where had he seen it before?

He
searched for an hour and found nothing, which alarmed him even more. There
wasn’t one scrap of online evidence that Nicholas Cordova existed. So where had
he heard the name?

Finally,
he checked on the rest of the Trapani family, and then searched for the Rossi
brothers. Frank’s parole hearing should have occurred already, but Dominic
still expected to see his name as a current inmate.

Mike
and Danny were still there, but Frank’s name came up as having served his time.
Dominic’s pulse raced once more, and he refreshed the screen again with
trembling fingers. Then he read the message again. Frank Rossi was out of jail.
No way.
Was it coincidence that Frank
had been released and Leo had a visitor?

He
went back and checked again. No. The timeline was wrong. The visitor had been
there before Frank was released. They weren’t the same person, but his
instincts still told him the two events were connected somehow.

He
brought up another database he had no business having access to, and it
confirmed that Frank Rossi had made parole this time. Dominic pushed back from
the desk, struggling to take full breaths.

It doesn’t mean anything.

He
fought to calm his thoughts. Frank didn’t know that he was here in CentralWest,
or that he was the same twenty-three year old greenhorn he likely remembered as
Gene’s and Leo’s annoying cousin. There was no reason to panic. If his own
grandfather and uncles had never found him, why would a man from a rival family
be able to?

But
what if Nicholas Cordova was someone from his past, and he and Frank both were
on their way here now? He had to find that name. He had to figure out where
he’d seen it before.

Dominic
wiped the sweat off his brow and then searched for a recent photo of Frank,
just in case. He’d alert Merrick and give him some excuse so they could track
Frank online as a potential hostile threat to the company. Merrick didn’t need
to know why. Dominic had never told any of the Weathermen except Viggo, of
course, his real name or his real past, and he certainly had no intentions of telling
an employee. Even a trusted one like Merrick.

The
three brothers were the only Rossi family members on which he’d found evidence
of having survived the storms. Now that one of them was out of jail, he needed
to know what Frank was doing, and what he looked like today.

He
finally found a photo, but it wasn’t current. It looked to be from when Frank
was around thirty years old, judging by the fact that Dominic knew the man’s
birthdate, and by the clothing in the picture. It had been taken above ground,
with Frank standing outside a drug store with his arm around a very pregnant
woman who smiled up at him like he had hung the moon. His wife, perhaps?

The
photo was on an obscure site that showed old photos of life in and around
Chicago. Nothing identified who had taken it, or who the woman in the photo
was. It didn’t even identify Frank by name, but Dominic recognized him. The
woman, however, could be anyone.

Dominic
studied the woman’s face, and his blood ran cold as a thought entered his mind.
The only thing he could recall about Frank’s wife was that her name had been
Marilyn, but he’d never seen a picture of her. Was this her with Frank,
someplace in Chicago?

Marilyn
was a common enough name, and until this very second he hadn’t thought anything
about the fact that it also happened to be Angela’s mother’s name. The woman’s
face was a profile shot, and the photo was too pixelated to sharpen it into
better detail, so he returned to the felon data base and typed in Marilyn Rossi
as a general associate.

Nothing
came up, which made no sense because if Frank had a wife when he’d gone to
prison, she should be listed here. Surely she’d visited him at least once in
all these years, unless she died shortly after he’d been incarcerated. Then he
tried searching for Marilyn Rossi to see if he could find a death certificate,
or anything, and found nothing. Not one scrap of online evidence that woman had
ever existed.

What the fuck?

Had
she changed her name? Was she in the protected witness program because Frank
had turned in most of the Trapani family to the FBI?

Holy fuck.

No.
It wasn’t possible.

But
as soon as the thought took shape, he couldn’t get rid of it.

Were
Marilyn Rossi and Marilyn Teresa Davidson one and the same person? If they
were, that made Angela Frank Rossi’s daughter. It also would explain her
cryptic comment two weeks ago about wishing she could help her mother find
peace, and the fact that both their online presences were so whitewashed and
generic.

Angela
couldn’t have been more than eight years old when all that shit went down
between the Trapani family and the Rossi brothers. She likely had no clue who
the
Trapanis
were or what exactly had happened, but
her mother certainly knew. She’d done what any mother would do. She’d kept that
shit from her daughter’s knowledge for her own protection.

If
this were true—and Dominic didn’t want to believe it—Angela was in as much
potential danger as he was, and from the same people.

Would
Frank have also gone into witness protection once he’d been paroled? If he had,
Dominic would never find him, but that also meant Frank couldn’t find Angela or
his wife. The DOJ and WITSEC wouldn’t allow it, would they? Would Frank try
anyway? Would he attempt to find Mario, Gene, or Leo? Or one of Mario’s sons?
Would he look for Antonio?
Hellfire.
This changed everything.

Holy fuck.

He
and Angela were hiding from the same people, but for very different reasons, and
she couldn’t tell him. It would break WITSEC rules and she and her mother would
have to be moved. The thought of her carrying this burden for the past eighteen
years, day after day, nearly broke his heart. No wonder she’d hidden from life
and had never let a man in this far before.

Holy
shit. She’d finally taken a chance and what had happened? She’d let in the very
man who was not only hiding from the same family, but was one of them.

What
the hell was he going to do?

Chapter
Fourteen

Angela
woke to the smell of bacon frying, and tried to remember if it was one of the
days Burt and Judy were in the apartment. She couldn’t remember Dominic making
bacon, but it smelled delicious. He wasn’t in the room, and the bathroom didn’t
look as though it had been used recently. Had he worked all night again? He’d
done that several times in the past three weeks, and each time she’d found him
still at his desk in the morning, sound asleep.

She
showered quickly and dressed casually, since it was Saturday. She’d spent the
last two weekends in this apartment with him and most of the weekday nights as
well. He had a kick-ass gym and she’d really enjoyed keeping up with her
workouts, and adding new routines that he had helped her with.

He’d
also joked only days ago that she might as well move in with him, but she
hadn’t agreed to do that. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, but she still
hadn’t figured out what to do.

Asking
her mother wouldn’t help. She already knew the answer. Even suggesting to her
mother that she tell Dominic the truth would bring down a firestorm of fear,
and she couldn’t do that to her. She had even considered telling Lesli, but
that was worse than telling Dominic. She couldn’t involve another family.

Fresh
guilt washed over her as she thought about Lesli. She hadn’t talked to her best
friend in over a week. She needed a girls’ night out, and decided to call her
now, even before she went in search of who was frying bacon. Lesli answered on
the first ring.

“I
thought Dominic kidnapped you. You answer my texts with monosyllables now, and
I can’t reach you. Where are you?”

“His
apartment.”

“Is
he holding you prisoner?”

She
chuckled. “Of course not. We’ve been having that hot affair you predicted, and
now I’m in search of food.”

“No
shit. The only texts I get from you anymore say you’re busy or you were
occupied and couldn’t get to your phone. That’s pretty standard code for ‘I’m
boffing someone silly. Call me back later.’ But are you all right? I miss you!”

“I
miss you, too, which is why I called. We need a night out.”

“Great.
Tonight?”

“Let
me make sure he hasn’t made plans. Last weekend he surprised me with a trip to the
symphony.”

“Oh,
the
symphony
. Well. My, my. I can’t
compete with that.”

Angela
laughed again. “Stop that, okay? I promise I’ll call you in a bit.”

“Holding
you to that, Davidson. Otherwise I’m coming over to kidnap you for the
evening.”

After
she disconnected the call, she peeked into Dominic’s office, but he wasn’t
there. As she approached the kitchen she heard voices, but they didn’t belong
to Judy or Burt. She recognized Dominic’s, but not the other man’s. They both
looked up when they heard her bare feet on the floor, and she smiled at the
stranger. This must one of his friends.

He
had dark brown, wavy hair and piercing hazel eyes. He looked her over like a
kid in high school would have done so, and didn’t seem the least bit concerned
that she noticed him checking her out. “You must be Angela.”

Dominic
rose from the stool and came toward her, planting a quick kiss on her lips, but
he didn’t look her in the eyes. “Angela Davidson, Viggo Ingram, one of the
Weathermen. He also lives here in CentralWest, and is CEO of Ingram
Properties.”

She
raised her brows.
Impressive.
She
knew the company name, of course. They had developed most of the underground
cities this side of the Mississippi after they were initially built, and
currently managed nearly all the rental properties up and down what used to be
the Pacific coast. She walked toward him and extended her hand. “Nice to meet
you.”

He
shook her hand and held onto it much longer than necessary, but she didn’t
mind. He was Dominic’s friend so she knew she had nothing to fear. “And it’s
very nice to meet you. He hasn’t shut up about you for three weeks.”

Heat
rose to her face, and she shot Dominic a quick look, just in time to catch him
watching her with a suspicious look in his eyes. She nearly recoiled, even
though he reined it in quickly and replaced it with the warmth she’d grown used
to. But there was no mistaking what she’d glimpsed. What the hell was going on?

“Dominic
and I are going over the database you made, which we’ll all begin to use now.
Between this one and Liane’s, we’re going to nail these bastards.”

She
cut her gaze toward two laptops open on the counter. One was Dominic’s, so the
other must belong to
Viggo
, but neither screen showed
a database she recognized. The one on Dominic’s machine looked like a government
site, and Viggo’s laptop was open to a website she didn’t recognize.
Viggo
closed the lid on his machine before she could get
more than a brief glimpse.

Dominic
did the same. Now she knew something odd was going on, but she wasn’t about to
ask him in front of someone she’d just met, so instead she glanced around. “I
smelled bacon. I hope you saved me some.”

Dominic
took the frying pan off the stovetop and pierced several pieces with a fork,
placing them on a clean plate. “I made eggs, too.” He picked up another frying
pan and shoveled a generous amount of them next to the bacon. “Coffee is fresh
as well.”

“Thank
you.” She took the plate from him, and then poured herself a cup of coffee.
“I’ll eat in another room so I don’t disturb you two. You look like you’re
busy.”

“No,
it’s all right. Sit down.” Dominic pulled a stool out for her and she took a
seat next to him and across from Viggo, but as the three ate, it was clear
she’d interrupted them. They cast furtive glances at her, at each other, and at
their laptops. If what they’d been doing was truly work-related, why would they
close their screens and not ask her to work with them? She and Dominic had
worked in his apartment together for the past three weeks.

She
drained her coffee cup and ate faster than usual, and then she placed her dish
in the sink and poured one more cup. “Thank you. That was delicious. I’m going
to do some work of my own, if that’s all right. You two are busy, and I don’t
want to get in your way.”

Angela
faced Dominic, and the relief on his face was impossible to miss. She swallowed
hard against the tears that threatened. What the hell was going on? “Oh, before
I forget, I haven’t gone out with Lesli in two weeks. Would you mind if we did
this evening? I wasn’t sure if you’d made plans for us.”

“No,
that’s a great idea. Viggo and I will be working on this all day, and now I
won’t feel guilty if our work extends into the evening. You should go out with
your friend and have some girl time together.”

“All
right.” She forced a smile to her face, and then nodded toward the closed
laptops. “If you need any help with those databases, please let me know.”

“We
will.”

She
met his gaze, but had to look away after a second or two because it was so
uncomfortable. What on earth had she missed? They hadn’t argued about anything.
In fact, the past three weeks had gone so smoothly that she’d kept waiting for
the other shoe to drop.

It just did.

Was
he acting so distant because Viggo was here? Was it a male bonding thing? She
hadn’t done anything to upset him between last evening and this morning. How
could she have? She’d been asleep.

Angela
went into the spare bedroom where he’d given her free rein to use the closet
and bathroom as her own to call
Lesli
back. “Hey,
he’s busy all day with a business associate. Can you get out now?”

“I’ll
meet you at the Red Dog in an hour.”

She
changed her clothes and then peeked into the kitchen, where both men were bent
over their laptops again. “Lesli has plans later tonight, but she can go out
now. Is that all right with you?”

He
barely glanced up. “Of course. Have fun.” After a split second, he rose and
gave her a quick kiss.
Too
quick. She
bit back tears again and got the hell out of the apartment.

The
Red Dog Saloon was a half hour walk, and normally she’d have taken the tram,
but
 
Angela
needed the
time to think. She had to clear her head before she was face to face with
Lesli
, because if she showed up looking this distracted or
uncertain, her BFF would ask too many questions that Angela wasn’t ready to
answer. She’d done nothing wrong, and was likely blowing Dominic’s odd behavior
this morning out of proportion. She couldn’t talk to him with Viggo there, so
she had to put this on the back burner until she could be alone with him and
find out what was going on.

****

Dominic
sighed loudly once he heard Angela leave. “Man, what the fuck am I going to do
here? She noticed something was off. I can’t hide it from her.”

“She
is so damn pretty. Why didn’t you warn me how fucking pretty she is?”

“What?
Fuck you, Viggo. I did warn you. We’re not talking about her looks.” He pointed
toward the screen. “What do I do about
this
?
She almost saw what you’d found.”

“Well
I didn’t expect her to come walking into the kitchen. You told me she’d sleep
until ten or eleven.”

“She
usually does on weekends.”

Viggo
ate the last of his bacon. “I wish I knew what to tell you. You really only
have two choices. Tell her what you found on Frank Rossi, and what you suspect
is the truth, or shut the fuck up about it for the rest of your life and hope
like hell that Frank never comes looking for his daughter or his wife.”

Dominic
ran his hands through his hair and stared at the page on Viggo’s laptop screen.
“How the hell did you get this, anyway?”

Viggo
chuckled. “I can’t tell you
all
my
secrets. Let’s just say I know a woman who knows a guy who knows another woman
who came across a piece of data that was lost in the mess after The Madeline
Project went rogue, and she hung onto it. Then when I asked my contacts,
including this man, if he had any information on a certain government website,
he asked the woman, and she sent this document to him. Then he sent it to me,
and we’ll just leave it at that.”

Dominic
shook his head. Some things were better not to know too much about. “So this is
at least six years out of date?”

Viggo
nodded. “Yes, but they’re both on the list. They were moved from San Francisco
to CentralWest in 2018, and her mother still resides at the same address.”

“We
shouldn’t have this. I mean look at all the info on the others.”

“Like
you said, it’s at least six years out of date. Besides, I’m not looking at the
others. I’m only looking at Marilyn LoPresti Rossi, aka Marilyn Teresa
Davidson, and her daughter, Angela. They’re the right age to match up with the
photo of Frank and a pregnant woman you found, and they hail from Chicago
originally. It says that on here, too. They moved to San Francisco when Angela
was eight, and were moved underground to CentralWest in 2118.”

Dominic
took a seat next to Viggo, where he’d been sitting with the man, poring over
every piece of information they could find online, since five in the morning.
“This is what she meant when she told me it had to do with her mother, and she
wished she could find her some peace. Her reactions have been too apparent and too…”
Too what?
“Terrified. She was
terrified
, Viggo. I saw it in her eyes.”

“You
said it was a brief glimpse only that you caught. Maybe all she knows is that
she had to move and she hasn’t seen her father or her uncles since?”

He
shook his head. “Every day of her life since then she’d have had it drummed
into her head not to breathe a word of this to
anyone
. Even so, at eight years old I’d have been asking a lot of
questions about why I had to pretend to be someone else.”

He
nodded again. “Yes, that’s true, but an intelligent mother who was used to
living in a crime family would have figured out something to tell her daughter
to keep her safe without scaring the shit out of her. She’s twenty-six years
old now. She’s been living with this for eighteen years. She’s had a lot of
time to learn how to hide it.”

“She
hasn’t hidden it all that well. She’s hidden
herself
, which in turn has kept anyone from getting close enough to
start asking questions.”

“Until
now.” Viggo’s voice was quiet, but Dominic already knew he hadn’t kept his
feelings for Angela a secret from his friend. “Until she met a man she had
strong feelings for. Or have you failed to notice how she looks at you?”

“I’ve
noticed.”

“Do
you have the same feelings for her?”

Dominic
cleared his throat. It was pointless to try to hide anything from Viggo. “I’m
in love with her.”

“Fuck
me sideways. You really are in deep shit.”

“No
kidding.”
We all have things in our past
we wish weren’t there, but they can’t hurt us. Not if we don’t let them.
That’s what he’d said to her, and she had pushed him to explain, almost as if
she suspected he’d figured out her secret. But what she couldn’t know was that
he was hiding a secret of his own. “What should I do? Should I tell her the
truth about my past? Maybe if I do, she’ll tell me she’s in witness
protection?”