Die for Me (41 page)

“Agent Vartanian believes his father came looking for the blackmailer. Miss Vartanian believes her mother came looking for Simon.”

Daniel was watching her with deliberation. “Yes.”

Susannah had narrowed her eyes, as if she’d just realized Sophie was there. “What is your connection to this investigation, Dr. Johannsen?”

“I located your parents’ bodies, and I assisted the police in discerning their identity.”

Daniel’s jaw cocked. “All right. So what are your questions?”

“You said you found your parents registered in the hotel under your mother’s name.”

“Our parents must not have wanted anyone to know they were searching for Claire Reynolds,” Susannah said stiffly.

“I’d be inclined to agree, except for a few things. First, you said the hotel staff remembered your mother spending a lot of time alone in the hotel room.”

“She was sick,” Daniel said, exasperated. “She stayed and he searched for Claire.”

“She didn’t stay behind the time your parents visited the library where Claire once worked. And there, your father gave his real name when he asked about Claire. Except, he didn’t ask the librarian or anyone else that could have helped him. Your father chose an old man who spoke no English. My first question is why did your father choose an old Russian man to ask about Claire Reynolds and have that Russian man be the only one to whom he revealed his real name?”

Vito wanted to kiss her. Instead he calmly asked, “And your second question?”

“Why did he bring the pictures to Philadelphia? I mean, if he was being blackmailed with the pictures, then why bring them and chance being caught with them? Why not leave them at home in his safe? For that matter, why did he keep them at all?”

Dark spots of color stained Susannah Vartanian’s cheeks. “Are you suggesting that our parents killed Claire Reynolds?”

Don’t mention the game, Sophie,
Vito thought.
Don’t mention Clothilde.

“Not at all, Miss Vartanian. I’m suggesting your father didn’t want anyone to know he was searching for Claire, so he hid his identity. And I’m suggesting that he wanted your mother to believe he was looking openly.”

Understanding filled Susannah’s eyes. “Mother didn’t know about the blackmail,” she said woodenly. “She just thought they’d gone to search for Simon.”

“But your father never intended for her to see him,” Vito murmured.

“Because he knew Simon had been alive all this time and didn’t want Simon to tell our mother,” Daniel finished grimly. “And it has something to do with those pictures.”

“But she did see Simon,” Susannah whispered. “Because he killed her. My God.”

Vito looked at Liz, his brows lifted in silent question. She nodded, so he cleared his throat. “Uh . . . there’s one more thing you need to know. When we found your parents, we also found beside them two empty graves. We weren’t sure why then. Now . . .”

Susannah paled. “Daniel.”

Daniel put his arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, Suze. Now we know. We can be watching.” He lifted his eyes to Vito’s. “Can we see that sketch again, please?”

Vito put the sketches of the old man and Frasier Lewis side by side on the table in front of the Vartanians. “I’ll make you copies.”

“Thanks,” Daniel said. “We appreciate—” But Susannah cut him off with a gasp.

With shaking hands she picked up the sketch of the old man. “I know him.” She looked up, her face now deathly white. “Daniel, I walk my dog every morning and night on a path in the park across the street from my apartment. This man . . .” She pointed to the sketch. “He sits on a bench sometimes.” Her voice shook. “We chat. He pets my dog. Daniel, he was as close to me as you are right now.”

Vito looked at Sophie. Her expression was one of pained understanding. He looked back to Susannah Vartanian. “For how long? How long have you known him?”

She closed her eyes. “At least a year. He’s been watching me for a year.”

“We can give you protection,” Liz said. “The one thing we can hope for is that he doesn’t know you know he’s alive. Come with me. I’ll get you both settled for the night.”

Thursday, January 18, 9:15
P.M.

“Vito, wait.”

Vito stopped outside the precinct’s front door. Katherine stood there, shivering, and his defenses went up. He’d managed to avoid her since the night before, but their avoidance dance was apparently over. “How long have you been waiting here?”

“Since the debriefing ended. I figured you’d come down sooner or later.”

Vito looked over his shoulder to where Sophie stood in the lobby with Nick and Jen.

Katherine followed his gaze. “You’re not letting her out of your sight.”

“No. Every time I think about him coming to her museum and touching her . . .”

“Vito, I’m sorry. I was out of line last night.”

“No, you weren’t. You were scared. And you were right.”

“I wasn’t right, and being scared doesn’t make it okay. I said I’m sorry. I would appreciate if you’d forgive me.”

Vito looked away. “Katherine, I haven’t even forgiven myself.”

“I know, and that needs to change. You didn’t do anything wrong. What happened to Andrea was tragic, but not your fault and not anything you could have prevented.”

He stared down at his shoe. “How did you know?”

“I was there when you saw the results of the ballistics report. I saw the look in your eyes when you realized one of yours had hit her. I saw the way you looked at her when she was first brought to the morgue. Vito, you loved her and she died.” Katherine sighed. “But that’s between you and your soul. I had no right to use that against you.”

“You were scared,” he said again. “Sophie’s your little girl.”

Katherine’s lips trembled. “I have known that girl since she was five years old.”

“How did you meet her? Why are you the mother she never knew?”

Katherine’s eyes filled. “She said that?”

“Yes, she did. So why?”

“She was my daughter Trisha’s best friend in kindergarten. One day Trisha came home in tears. There was going to be this big mother–daughter tea and Sophie wasn’t coming. She didn’t have a mom to bring her.”

Vito’s heart squeezed. “What about her grandmother or her aunt?”

“Anna was on tour. Freya had something to do that night with one of her own girls, which was Freya’s norm. Harry was going to bring her, but that kind of negated the whole mother–daughter tea idea, so I offered to pinch hit. I sat there with Trisha on one knee and Sophie on the other. Sophie’s been mine ever since.”

“What about her grandmother?”

“Anna cut way back on her touring schedule and bought a house in Philly so that Sophie could be close to Harry. But it was still years before Anna completely gave up her career, so Sophie spent a lot of time with me.”

“What made Anna finally stop touring completely?”

“She’d missed so much of her own daughters’ lives. I think she finally realized she’d been given another chance with Sophie and Elle.”

“Elle?”

Katherine’s eyes flared in alarm. Then she shook her head. “She’ll have to tell you about Elle. Vito, I’ve seen that girl through every major up and down of her life. I’d do anything to keep her safe. And happy.”

He looked back at Sophie again. “She’s safe now. I’d like to think she’s happy.”

“You’re a good man, Vito. I’ve watched you go through lots of ups and downs, too. We’re friends. I hope that one stupid comment on my part won’t erase the good years.”

“It doesn’t. It won’t. I’d take the bullet myself before I let anything happen to her.”

“Don’t say that,” she whispered. “It’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t meant to be. What happened with the body bag, Katherine?”

“That one she’ll also need to tell you herself.” She lifted on her toes, kissed his cheek. “Thank you for forgiving me. I won’t be so foolish as to risk our friendship again.”

“German chocolate cake would seal the deal,” he said and she laughed.

“When all this is over, I’ll make you two cakes. Now I’m beat. I’m going home.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Vito said. “You need to be careful, too.”

Katherine frowned. “I don’t suppose that was meant to be funny either.”

“No. Come on.”

Chapter Twenty

Thursday, January 18, 9:55
P.M.

W
ow.” Sophie blinked at the cars in Vito’s driveway. “What’s going on here?”

“I called a mini–family meeting,” Vito said and helped her out of the truck.

“This is a
mini
–family meeting? Why?”

“Several agenda items.” He looked up and down the street, his eyes narrowed, and Sophie shivered. He’d been doing that all the way from the precinct, not once relaxing his guard. But she’d watched him talking to Katherine. They’d made their peace.

Katherine had told him something, though. It was impossible to miss the questions in his dark eyes every time he looked at her. But Sophie had questions of her own, and he’d had not a spare minute to talk to her since waking that morning at four
A.M.
Even on the ride back to his house tonight, he’d been on his cell to Liz and Nick.

The state’s transportation unit had been busy over the last few hours, tracing oRo president Jager Van Zandt’s path down I-95 via tollbooth cameras and operators. Van Zandt had come to Philadelphia. Vito had found that very interesting and, on a purely intellectual level, so did Sophie. It was only clinging to that intellectual level that kept her from descending into abject fear. And fear wasn’t going to help anyone.

“What agenda items?” she asked and he turned her toward the driveway.

“The minivan belongs to my brother Dino, who’s here to see his five sons who have been staying at my house since Sunday. How long they’ll stay is one agenda item.”

“Five sons?”

Vito nodded. “Yeah. Five. It’s been interesting.”

She lifted a brow. “So now your wanting to sleep over at my house makes a lot more sense. You just wanted a good night’s sleep.”

“Like either of us have gotten one of those. Dino’s wife’s been in the hospital, so another agenda item is an update on when she’ll get out. The old VW is Tino’s. The Chevy is Tess’s rental car. The Buick is my father’s, and he’s here to meet you.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Your father is here? I’m meeting your father? I look awful.”

“You’re beautiful. Please. My dad’s a nice man and wants to meet you.”

Still Sophie held back. “So . . . where’s your bike?”

His brows lifted. “In the garage with my Mustang. If you’re a good girl I’ll let you see them later.” He hesitated. “Sophie, if this killer is watching you, he’s seen me. I need to make sure my family’s safe. That’s the last agenda item.”

“I hadn’t thought about that,” she murmured. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am. Now, my ass is freezing off out here, so let’s go in.”

Sophie was swept inside a house filled with people. In the kitchen a woman with long, dark curls stood at the stove while a tall man with a little gray at his temples rocked a toddler on his shoulder. At the table a teenaged boy sat with open books, studying. On the sofa a brawny man with silver hair and a child on one knee sat watching a blaring TV. A second kid lay sprawled on his stomach on the living room floor, his eyes fastened to the screen, and a third sat by himself, obviously sulking.

The only person Sophie recognized was Tino, who looked like Sophie had always imagined the Renaissance artists looked with his long flowing hair and sensitive eyes.

Vito closed the door and all activity ceased. It was like she’d walked into a spotlight.

“Well, well.” The woman came to the kitchen doorway, a spoon in her hand and a smile on her face. “So this is the infamous Sophie. I’m Vito’s sister, Tess.”

Sophie had to smile back. “Deliverer of packages. Thank you.”

“Someday you’ll tell me what the significance of that toy is and what the
heck
is wrong with your receptionist. For now, welcome.” Tess drew her into the living room and introduced everyone rapidly. There were Dino and Dominic. The little boy was Pierce, the bigger boy was Connor, the sulking one was Dante.

Then the big man got up from the sofa and the room seemed suddenly smaller. “I’m Michael, Vito’s father. Tino’s sketch didn’t do you justice.”

Sophie blinked. “What sketch?”

“He wouldn’t stop until I drew your picture,” Tino said and took her hand. “How are you, Sophie? You had a bad shock.”

“Much better now, thanks.” She turned back to Vito’s father. “Your sons are talented and kind men. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’m also happy to finally see Vito with a woman. I was starting to worry that—”

“Pop,” Vito warned, and Sophie cleared her throat.

“Talented, kind, and
manly
men,” she revised and heard Tess snicker behind her.

Michael smiled and Sophie knew where Vito had gotten his movie-star looks. “Sit down and tell me about your family.”

Tess leaned against Vito’s arm as their father escorted Sophie to the sofa as regally as if it had been a throne. “You are so busted. He’s going to worm every last detail from her by the time you leave. Then I’ll worm the details from him.”

Vito found he didn’t really care. “Sophie can hold her own. We need to talk, Tess.”

The smile in her eyes faded. “I know. Tino told me the killer you’re chasing came to see Sophie yesterday. She’s got to be unnerved.” They sat down at the table with Tino, Dino, and Dominic. “So talk, Vito.”

“You’ve all seen the news. We’ve found a field with a lot of bodies. The man who put them there has been watching Sophie. I’m not letting her out of my sight.”

Dino nodded, his face grim. “And my boys? Are they in any danger?”

“There’s no indication the killer is paying attention to us cops. But he’s smart and knows we’re after him, so I can’t tell you no. I’ll stay away from here until this is over.”

Dino looked torn. “We can’t go back in the house until every square inch of carpet’s been replaced. I can look for a rental place between now and then, but it’ll take me a few more days. Nobody else in the family has a house big enough for all of us.”

“I know Mom and Pop had to sell their place, but I wish they’d done it a little later,” Tino grumbled. “We could have fit ten kids in there.”

But the old house where they’d grown up had stairs, and his parents’ condo was all on one floor, enabling Michael to conserve his energy. Hopefully, every bit would extend his father’s life a little longer, and Vito found himself wishing his father would live to see his own children, who in Vito’s mind had blond hair and bright green eyes.

“We could get a hotel,” Dino said doubtfully.

“No. I think you’re fine here, Dino, really. And when Molly gets out of the hospital you can use the top half of this house. I’ll move downstairs with Tino.”

“He’s right,” Tino said. “Tess and Dom and I will watch the boys, and soon Vito will save the day and we can all go back to normal craziness.”

“And I’ll stick around until Molly’s a hundred percent,” Tess said. “So don’t worry.”

“Your psychiatric practice,” Dino protested. “Your patients.”

“I have my patients covered. I don’t even have that many anymore. I’d cut back.”

Because she’d been trying for babies of her own, Vito realized with regret. Tess would make a great mother. If there was any justice, she’d have the family she wanted.

And so would Sophie. Vito stood up. “I’m going to pack a bag. Dino, plan on moving in whenever you want.”

Tino’s smile was sly. “Maybe big brother is so quick to offer his roof because he knows he’ll soon have another.”

“She’s a looker, Vito,” Dino added with a grin. He nudged Dom. “Don’t you think?”

Dominic blushed. “Stop,” he mumbled.

“He’s got his eye on a girl at school,” Dino said, and Dominic glared at his father.

Tess patted Dominic’s arm. “Relax, Dom, and get used to it. Just hope your grandfather doesn’t get wind of it or you’ll really get the third degree.”

“Third degree about what?” Michael asked, strolling into the kitchen. Without waiting for an answer he began pawing through drawers, messing everything up.

“What are you looking for, Dad?” Vito asked.

“Long-handled wooden spoons and those pointy things for holding corn. Sophie’s showing the boys how to make a trebuchet.”

“Like they needed another way to hurl things at each other,” Dino grumbled, but he got up to help his father look. “A trebuchet, huh? That’s actually pretty cool.”

Tino lifted a brow. “She’s got a fast bike, can make medieval siege weapons out of household items, and has nice . . . sweaters.”

Dino laughed. “She sounds like a keeper to me, Vito.”

“That’s my cue to exit. Tino, I’d appreciate a hand.” Vito had a granny-cam-related request and didn’t want to ask in front of Tess, who had an understandable aversion to hidden cameras, having been an unwilling victim a few years before.

When Vito returned, his father was on the sofa whittling something from a block of wood. Sophie was on the floor helping the boys build a fort from the books that had once been stacked neatly on his shelves. Pierce looked up, his little face flushed with excitement. “We’re building a castle, Uncle Vito, with a moat and everything.”

“I never said a moat, Pierce,” Sophie said. “Your uncle wouldn’t like having his living room flooded, so we’re not even going there.” Vito winced when Connor dumped another stack of books next to Sophie, but she just smiled sweetly up at the boy. “Thank you, Connor. How are we doing on that counterweight for the trebuchet, Michael?”

His father looked affronted. “Quality takes time, Sophie.”

“Edward the First only needed a few months to build the biggest trebuchet of all time, Michael,” she said dryly. “It could hurl three-hundred-pound weights. We’re only launching popcorn kernels, so hurry up.”

“We need to be going,” Vito said. “It’s the boys’ bedtime.”
And mine,
he hoped.

“Oh, Uncle Vitooooo,” Pierce whined. “Just a few more minutes.”

“Yeah, Uncle Vitoooo,” Sophie echoed, her whine even better than Pierce’s, and the two co-conspirators snorted with giggles. “Just let us finish the wall around the outer bailey.” She angled him an amused look. “It would go faster if you would help.”

She looked so happy, Vito couldn’t refuse. Folding himself into position on the floor, he looked around. “Where is Dante? He should be helping.”

“He didn’t wanna,” Pierce said. “He said he wasn’t feeling well.”

“He’s sick? Should he go back to the doctor? Maybe he was exposed to more of that mercury than you thought.” Vito started to get up, but his father shook his head.

“Dante’s physically fine. He’s just dealing with some issues right now.”

“Dante broke the gas meter,” Pierce said matter-of-factly.

Vito remembered the stark despair on the boy’s face when he’d found him crying on the back porch a few nights before. “I thought as much. How did it happen?”

“Neighborhood snowball fight with ice balls in the center for ballast,” Michael said. “One of the neighborhood boys told his mom and Dante had to come clean. On the bad side, he lied at first. Said he didn’t know how it happened. On the good side, Molly’s going to be okay and Dante has a future with the Phillies. The boy has a helluva arm.”

“He’s got two arms, Granpop,” Pierce said. “And you said the ‘H’ word.”

“Good strong arms they are, too,” Michael agreed. “And you’re right, I did use the ‘H’ word. I’m sorry, Pierce. I won’t do it again. Here’s your counterweight, Sophie.”

She’d been watching them with curiosity. “You’ll fill me in?” she asked Vito.

He let out a breath. “On a lot of things.”

Thursday, January 18, 11:35
P.M.

“It was nice of Tess to send dinner home with us,” Sophie said, scraping her plate clean. She sat naked on her bed while Vito lounged against the pillows watching her, simply because he could. She licked her fork. “It’s even good cold.”

“It wouldn’t have
been
cold if you’d have let us eat it when we first got back,” Vito teased. “But no, you’re a sex-starved fiend, dragging me up the stairs by my hair.”

She grinned and pointed her fork at him. “You’re gonna get it.”

He leered at her. “Promises, promises. Come here and pay up.”

Sophie’s grin faded. She carefully set their plates aside and Vito knew the moment of reckoning had arrived. “Speaking of paying up, it’s time to come clean, Ciccotelli. I want to know about the roses. I think I’ve waited long enough.”

“I know.” He sighed. “Her name was Andrea.”

Sophie’s cheeks grew dark. “And you’ll love her always.”

To deny it would be wrong. “Yes.”

Sophie swallowed. “How did she die?”

He hesitated, then let it out. “I killed her.”

Sophie’s eyes registered initial shock, then she shook her head. “Tell me the whole story, Vito. Start at the beginning.”

“I met Andrea through a case, the murder of a teenager. Andrea’s little brother.”

“Oh.” Her eyes grew sad. “It’s hard to lose family like that.”

Vito thought of Elle, the name Katherine had let slip, and wondered who she was. But it was his turn to come clean, and he was no welsher. “Nick and I were working the case, and I was attracted to Andrea. She was attracted, too, but she fought it at first.”