It’s time to fight. And I’m suddenly not regretting growing up where I did. That hellhole taught me to push back, to defend myself and my brother, to not back down when someone wants to take everything from you. Maybe that’s why I love football—it makes sense to me. It’s an orchestrated battle, symbolic of what I’ve lived through to get to where I am.
But this Tony isn’t playing a game, and neither am I.
I dig out Larry’s card from my wallet.
“I’ll go along with this, Dean, but I’m not a fan of your plan,” Larry says, seated behind his big fancy desk. Today, instead of a suit, he’s wearing my team’s red and black jersey and a matching baseball cap. Glad he’s a fan. Also glad he was willing to meet on such short notice. I called earlier, expecting to talk through this on the phone, but he happened to be in his office and told me to come over.
Despite the fact it’s a Sunday, and the place is void of people, his law office isn’t the grim, stale atmosphere I expected. There’s a play area for kids near reception, and the common areas are filled with colorful art, bright lighting, and plants. I’m guessing by the numbers of desks and private offices, he must have an army working for him. Either way, the prestigious appearance immediately boosts my confidence. Larry must know what he’s doing to have a practice like this.
And I bet he’s expensive. I owe Hector and Coach for hiring him.
“I don’t see a better plan,” I say, rocking Fia in my arms while standing. She’s been a gas bag the last thirty minutes, almost like her bowels know something bad is going down. “If I go to the police first, they’ll want to play this out their way—maybe block me from going public or arrest me for withholding information. This is the only way to get the entire truth out. On my terms.”
“It’s a gamble,” Larry says.
I’ve told him everything—attorney-client privilege—so I agree with his concerns. The risk is real. But I refuse to allow that piece of garbage to get away with killing Fia’s mother. And I’m not about to live looking over my shoulder the rest of my life. It’s time to take a stand.
“Tony Rigatoni is planning to come after me,” I say. “My way will make him hit pause because if anything happens, the world will know it was him.” My plan will force Tony to wait, and that will buy the authorities time to hunt him down. “I just need to run this by Lara and make sure she’s okay with it. Then I need you on standby since I’m fairly sure the police will want to talk to me and Lara.”
“I’ll call the detective the moment this goes public. Better if we’re proactive and offer your cooperation.”
I like that Larry is looking out for me. “Thanks.”
“You got it. But I want you to stick to the script, Dean.”
“What script?”
“I’m going to tell you exactly what to say so you don’t incriminate yourself.”
I like that plan. And I like that I’m fighting back—against Tony, against the press, and against anyone who thinks I’m not a good father. “Lay it on me, Larry. But make it quick. Fia’s naptime is overdue.”
He smiles, flashing a very perfect set of white teeth. Probably veneers. “Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“You’re serious? You really want to do this?” Lara asks, sitting on her khaki love seat. This is the first time I’ve been to her place. It’s a spacious in-law unit with two bedrooms, located on a ten-acre farm, just minutes from the Ranch. The floors are all hardwood, there’s a fireplace, and the furniture looks like it came from one of those homey interior design magazines. Lara is clearly into floral patterns and red throw pillows—they’re on the couch, love seat, and armchair. She even has red cushions on the chairs at her round dining room table in the corner. Looks nice. She’s definitely been slumming it at my place, where we have very prestigious garage-sale décor.
Standing near the window, I fold my arms and look outside at the towering pine trees in her yard. “I am serious. And yes, I want to do this,” I lie. I definitely don’t want to. This is more of a need situation. “When Tony finds me, and I have no doubt he will, he’ll take out anyone I’m with to punish me. That’s what Marli said.” Also, I don’t want to go into hiding or run or let him get away with murder. Again. “I’d say I’m being paranoid except for the fact I’ve witnessed his handiwork.”
“Agreed.” Lara exhales with a worried look. “I’m in. But we have to be smart. Let’s change our routine for a few weeks. I can book us an Airbnb in the area. We can maybe rent a different car or something. The name of the game is making it difficult for Tony to find you.”