Page 9 of Heartbeats Amidst Chaos: Part 2
Rissa sighed. “The police suspect me of aiding and abetting Elio in his escape.”
Reagan’s mouth dropped open, and she was speechless for so long that it was almost comical.
“Are they crazy?” she asked finally. “You were a hostage.”
Rissa shrugged. Reagan’s mouth snapped closed, and she stared across the table with a shrewd expression that was still heavily mingled with disbelief.
“What aren’t you telling me?” she asked finally.
Rissa gulped. Reagan would not, for anything in the world, betray a secret, but it might be best if she didn’t know everything. “You first,” she said. “What did you find out about Elio Accardi?”
Reagan studied her for a moment longer, taking a long sip of her cappuccino before slowly nodding.
“Elio Accardi,” she said. “Twenty-nine years old. Grandson of one of the most longstanding crime bosses in the city, Angelo Accardi. Apparently, Elio’s dad was Angelo’s only son.”
“Was?” Rissa echoed.
“Died of gunshot wounds twelve years ago.” Reagan leaned forward, her gaze intense. “You know I’m all about the bad boys, Rissa, but this Elio guy is a lot more than that.”
“He’s committed crimes?” Rissa asked. Her heart was in her throat as she waited for Reagan to divulge a sordid history that would give her a good reason to cut Elio off entirely and go straight back to the police.
“Well,” Reagan hesitated. “Not Elio, specifically. At least none that I could find. But. . . it’s the ItalianMafia,for Pete’s sake, Rissa. I’m sure many, many things aren’t on their records.”
Rissa frowned, focusing on her friend’s face once more. “Why are you arguing with me like you think I’m on his side?” she asked. “I haven’t said anything yet.”
Reagan sighed. “I’m your best friend, Rissa. And it’s as obvious as the fact that my dad is colorblind when he picks out his own clothes—this guy has some kind of hold on you. I just don’t know exactly how or in what way.”
Rissa dropped her eyes to her cup, swirling it and watching the black liquid move silkily. “He claims he’s being set up,” shereplied softly. She looked up, her eyes pleading with her friend to hear her out. “And I think he might be telling the truth.”
Reagan sat back in her chair, her eyes wide, shaking her head slowly back and forth.
“What?” Rissa asked. Surely her statement hadn’t been that shocking.
“You’re into him,” Reagan said breathlessly. “I almost can’t believe it, but you are totally into a suspected bomber, a fugitive from the police, and crime family offspring, Elio Accardi.”
Rissa felt her face heating as she bit her lip and watched her friend process her own statement. Eventually, Reagan leaned forward, her expression calmer.
“Okay,” she said. “This is a development I hadn’t let myself expect. But I trust your instincts, Rissa.”
“Really?” Rissa asked. She’d always thought it was the other way around.
“Absolutely,” Reagan said. “I’m not saying I’m totally onboard the ‘Elio is innocent’ train, but I’m willing to have an open mind as I continue gathering facts. Fuck, that’s how I gather facts anyway.” She reached across the table and touched Rissa’s hand, surprising her. “But Ris, you have to promise me you’ll be careful. Whatever you do, be careful.”
Rissa nodded, relief settling over her now that she had Reagan in her corner. “I promise,” she said, meaning it.
Ninety minutes later, the two hugged each other goodbye, and Reagan drove away. Rissa started down the street in the opposite direction. She had left her house openly this afternoon, but she was pretty sure she managed to lose the cop who followed her. It seemed best to let no one know she was meeting with her friend, an investigative journalist. There was no reason to draw Reagan into things any more than necessary.
As she strolled down the sidewalk, Rissa had the uneasy feeling that she was being watched. It was like a tingle on the back of her neck. She turned her head, glancing into the storefront windows on her left, eyeing the other people on the sidewalk and the cars along the street. Her gaze caught on a charcoal gray Mustang parallel parked on the opposite side of the street.
Her heartbeat quickened. Hadn’t Elio mentioned a gray Mustang when he snuck into her house, suggesting that it wasn’t the cops but someone else watching her?
But who?
Abruptly, Rissa turned down an alley, cutting between an antique shop and a used bookstore to come out on the street on the other side. Glancing both ways, she quickly crossed the road and ducked into a deli on the opposite side.
She pretended to peruse the shelves, watching the front windows until she saw the Mustang cruise slowly past.Swallowing the fear that rose in her throat, she watched until the car was almost at the end of the block. Then, she stepped back outside, falling in with a group of other pedestrians. She crossed the street with them, ducked back through the same alley she had used before, and hurried down the street to the bus stop on the other end.
Fortunately, a bus was just arriving. Rissa found a seat near the back. She kept her head low and her eyes down, watching the other passengers board from her peripheral vision. None of them gave her a second glance, and Rissa’s pulse began to slow to normal.
