When Smiles Fade (39 page)

“Bella?” she asked, confused.

A tender smile played around the edges of his lips. “Yes, Bella. It means beautiful,” he told her adoringly, grateful that she was alive.

Emma played through the fragmented recollections of what had recently happened to her.

“Where’s Izzy?” she asked.

Salvatore continued to smile at her. “She’s safe in the other bedroom, sleeping. Don’t worry. Ethan didn’t touch her. Do you remember what he did to you last night?”

It took her several minutes and many tearful pauses, but Emma was finally able to tell him all that had occurred the previous night.

“This friend of Ethan’s,” Salvatore asked, “what’s his name?”

“That doesn’t matter, Salvatore,” Emma said. “He was drunk. And all that really matters is that Ethan was the one who planned it. He is the one who did this to me. He let it happen. When I get better, I will even the score. Trust me.”

Salvatore stroked her hair and handed her two tablets and a glass of water. “Here, take these,” he urged. “It’s important that you rest. These will take the pain away and help you sleep.”

Emma took the pills and waited for them to work. Right before she dozed off, she put her hand over Salvatore’s.

“Don’t let Izzy out of your sight,” she murmured sleepily. “I don’t know what Ethan is capable of doing to her.”

“Izzy is safe with me,” Salvatore assured her. “You have nothing to worry about. Now sleep, Bella.”

Later that night, Ethan arrived back at his apartment still nursing a hangover from the night before. He walked into the kitchen and turned on the lights, expecting to feast his eyes on a naked and injured Emma. The sight of the bare table threw him into a rant and he started screaming her name. He ran into Izzy’s room. She was gone too. He noticed that the other bedroom door was closed. He figured Emma had locked herself in, along with that little brat. No matter, he told himself, he would break down the door if he needed to. No one would stop him from brawling with the raunchy bitch for cheating on him with his friend, Pete.

When Ethan twisted the doorknob to the bedroom, however, the door swung open, and he turned on the light switch. Two men were standing just inside the room.

“Who the fuck are you?” he spewed at them, fear and anger working at cross purposes within him.

Neither of the men uttered a word. Tony, the larger of the two, walked up to Ethan silently and punched him in the face, knocking him to the floor. Then his partner, Vincent, bent down and strapped Ethan’s wrists behind his back, jammed a rag inside his mouth, and covered it with electrical tape. Tony dragged Ethan out to the kitchen by his hair and sat him on one of the chairs. Ethan was so terrified by now he could barely draw in a breath.

“Our boss sent us to pay ya a visit,” Tony began. “Our boss, he’s, well, let’s just say he runs a lot of businesses around here.
Italian
businesses, you understand me? Do you know who Salvatore Morano is?” Tony asked him.

Ethan understood that Tony was talking about the Mafia and nodded vigorously. He felt a little calmer now, assuming they had the wrong guy. He had no connection with the mob, and all he had to do was explain it was a big mistake; after all, he definitely didn’t know anyone named Salvatore Morano.

“No, now see, I think you do know him, sorta,” Tony tormented. “He’s a pretty powerful guy, if ya know what I mean.”

Ethan shook his head and tried to talk through the gag and tape over his mouth.

“Yeah, it ain’t your turn to talk yet, you get what I’m tellin’ ya.,” Tony told him coldly. “So like I was sayin’ ’fore you rudely interrupted me, Salvatore Morano, well, he’s a very, very good friend of the woman who lives here wit’ cha,” Tony stated and stood back to wait for Ethan’s reaction.

Panic surged up in Ethan’s chest, constricting his breathing. He had never been more terrified in his life. His eyes grew wide and sweat beaded up on his forehead.

“Yeah, there it is. That’s what we been waitin’ for. Yeah, that look, right there. Ya see it, Vincent? You know- the ‘I’m so fucked right now’ look. Yeah, priceless, ain’t it, Vincent?” Tony asked, nudging his partner. “See, Salvatore sent us to see ya,. He said we should tell ya that he found Emma tied to this here table last night. Sounds like ya let your buddy have a little party wit’ her.”

Then in a monotone voice that hid all of his emotion, Tony concluded, “Ya know, we don’t like guys like you that do shit like that to women.”

Without warning, Tony picked Ethan up by the back of his shirt and slammed him, face down, on the kitchen table. Vincent walked over and casually put a gun to his head while Tony cut the binding on his hands. Slowly and deliberately, Tony tied Ethan’s wrists and ankles to the legs of the table, mimicking what Ethan himself had done to Emma the night before. When he was done, Tony went behind him with a razor blade and sliced his pants from the waist to the cuff of the pant legs on either side. Then he cut away his boxers. When he was done, Ethan lay with all his limbs tightly bound and naked from the waist down.

Then Vincent walked a few steps, taking each one deliberately slow, and opened the kitchen closet. He took out a broom and walked around the table to show it to Ethan, who immediately burst into tears and mumbled for forgiveness through his gag. The men looked at him and even pretended to consider his pleas, but it was obvious that they were simply amused.

“So it was all right for you to do this to your girlfriend, but it ain’t all right for you. Huh?” Vincent asked.

Ethan shook his head vigorously.

Vincent looked at the broomstick. “You know,” he seethed, “what I’d like to do is split your fuckin’ head open with this, but if I did that, you wouldn’t be awake for all the fun you’re about to have. Now would ya?”

Ethan tried to scream for help through the gag and tape that covered his mouth. Vincent walked slowly around the table and looked at his partner, who gave a quick nod of approval. The broomstick entered Ethan with such force he thought it had broken through his rectum and into his stomach. Then the man withdrew the broom just as abruptly and did it again. And again. And again. Dropping the broom to the floor, he made his way around to look Ethan in the face.

“Ain’t too nice, is it?” Vincent tormented.

Tony cut Ethan loose and tied his hands behind his back again. They led him out to the sedan in the dark, still half-naked, and placed him in the trunk. No one noticed them coming or going. No one heard Ethan’s screams through the gag that covered his mouth. As they drove away from the apartment, the two men sat in silence. They lived for these moments. There was nothing more enjoyable than killing for justice.

Four days later, Emma woke just as the sun was going down. She had drifted in and out of slumber since the attack, partly because of the severity of her injuries and partly owing to the effect of the narcotics she was being administered for pain every time she opened her eyes. When she awoke this time, Salvatore and Izzy were sitting nearby, watching the television in her bedroom. As Emma gently stretched her limbs, feeling the tenderness of her broken ribs, Izzy slid off the large sofa on the other side of the room and ran to her bedside.

“Aunt Em, we’re watching Barney,” she said in her endearingly squeaky voice. “Salvatore said he looks like an ugly purple monster. Can you tell him that Barney isn’t ugly?”

Emma chuckled as she pointed her finger at Salvatore. “Knock it off!” she told him. “Barney is our friend.”

“Yes, of course he is!” Salvatore responded pleasantly, then turned to the child. “Well, Izzy, aren’t you a little tattletale!” he teased.

Izzy giggled and climbed onto the bed next to Emma, who leaned in the best she could, given her injuries, to give her niece a kiss.

“I’m starving!” Emma announced to them both.

“Good,” Salvatore said, getting up from the sofa, “because I have a wonderful dinner planned for us tonight. Now how about if you go and take a long, hot shower while I have dinner set up in the dining room?”

After she had showered and struggled into clean pajamas, Emma walked unsteadily out into the living room. She was overwhelmed by the size and beauty of Salvatore’s apartment. She had known he had money, but hadn’t imagined him to be this wealthy. There were plush green sofas and oversized chairs arranged around the vast living room. The floors were black and white marble, and contemporary artwork was perfectly mounted on the walls. The talking point of the formal dining room was a steel chandelier in an abstract design that incorporated stems pointing in different directions and metal figures of men holding the light bulbs that cast a glow on the table.

Emma seated herself next to Izzy, who was already waiting for her dinner.

“Salvatore made me macaroni and cheese,” the child piped up, letting her aunt know she was special.

Just then Salvatore walked into the room carrying Izzy’s food and placed it in front of her. A moment later, he returned with a large platter filled with blackened swordfish and penne pasta in vodka sauce. Emma’s senses whirled in the delicious aromas that wafted up her nostrils and she gobbled down the food as though she had never eaten before.

“So did you cook all of this yourself?” she finally asked, sitting back in her chair, full, and rubbing her belly with satisfaction.

Salvatore smiled like a delighted young boy. “Let’s just say I helped.”

“Helped how?” Emma teased.

“My boy, Tony, in the kitchen,” he motioned toward the door, “did the actual cooking, but I told him what I wanted him to make.”

Tony popped his head into the dining room. “Yeah,” he said, “he wishes he could cook like I do.”

Emma laughed, but was a little startled to realize that there were other people in the apartment whom she didn’t know about.

“How many other people are here in the apartment with us?” she asked in a low voice, curious and more than a little embarrassed that they all knew what Ethan and Pete had done to her.

“Oh, just Tony and Vincent are here,” Salvatore replied. “You can always find them here around dinnertime. That’s what they do best—EAT!” he said, yelling the words loud enough for his friends to hear. They responded by yelling something back in Italian that Emma didn’t understand. Salvatore laughed at the words and turned his attention back to her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. “You were in pretty bad shape when we found you in your apartment.”

Emma felt the blood rush to her face. “I’m feeling much better,” she said in a low voice, suddenly overcome by shyness. “I’m still sore, but at least I can breathe now without feeling excruciating pain.”

“Good, Bella, good,” he replied, patting the top of her hand.

“In a couple of days I should feel well enough to go back to my own apartment,” she assured him. “But first I have to figure out how I’m going to deal with Ethan.” She looked down at her plate as she spoke. “I think you’ll understand this, so I’ll just say it: his days are numbered. I won’t let him get away with this. The situation could have been a lot worse. They could’ve hurt Izzy. I can’t risk that anymore.”

Salvatore smiled at her. “I completely understand,” he said. “In my business, we deal with the things that need to be dealt with.” He turned to Izzy. “Come, sweetheart, let’s get you ready for bed.”

He took her by the hand and led her into a bedroom across the hall from her aunt’s. Emma hobbled behind them, slow to catch up. Then Salvatore flung the bedroom door open and she nearly gasped. This was perfection itself. Done up in shades of pink and purple, the room was based on a princess theme. It had been decorated for Salvatore’s niece when his sister came to visit from New York. But in an effort to make Izzy feel completely at home, while her aunt lay unconscious in the other room, he had told Isabella that the room was decorated especially for her.

“Wow, Izzy!” her aunt said. “This is the greatest room ever!”

“I know!” the child responded, bubbling with excitement. “Salvatore said it’s going to be my room while we’re sleeping over here. Look, Aunt Em, I have my own TV too!”

Emma sat on the chair in the corner while Salvatore helped Izzy out of her clothes and into her nightgown. Once he had tucked her in bed, he helped Emma across the room so that she could give the child a kiss.

“Goodnight, sweetie,” Emma whispered to her precious niece.

Then Salvatore led Emma out into the living room. He sat her on the sofa, gave her a warm blanket to cover herself with and a glass of wine to help her relax.

“We need to talk,” he said.

His tone was so serious Emma suspected he was withholding bad news that involved either Izzy or her.

He picked up a newspaper and sat down beside her. He was nervous, unsure of how she would react to the news. The last thing Salvatore wanted was to lose her after waiting for so long.

“What you said about Ethan a little while ago,” he began tentatively. “Well, I have some news for you. Something happened a couple of days ago.”

Salvatore said no more. He leaned over and put the newspaper in her lap.

Emma read the headline:

LOCAL MAN’S BODY FOUND

Investigating a complaint from neighbors of a foul smell emanating from an abandoned row house in Norristown on Monday morning, police discovered an unidentified naked, limbless torso in an advanced stage of decomposition. On Tuesday morning, a man’s head was found on the banks of the Schuylkill River near Boat House Row by a group of University of Pennsylvania students. DNA tests subsequently carried out confirmed that both the head and the torso, found in separate locations, belong to a West Ambler resident Ethan Miller, 28. Police have no leads so far. According to investigators, no eyewitnesses have come forward with information that can help the investigation. Nor has any motive been found for this “particularly gruesome murder,” a police source told our reporter. Local police are assisting state investigators, but were not forthcoming with any further details on the case, claiming it would be premature to make a comment.