A Homecoming Chapter 11
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I spent a leisurely Friday night and Saturday with the Conroys. It was as pleasant an experience as I've ever known. We lounged around the house, watched a movie and took a short walk around the property.
We had settled down to a board game — which Janet and Lila had the foresight to bring with them — Saturday afternoon. I was in the process of getting abused in my third consecutive game when my cell phone chirped.
At the time, I viewed the interruption as a welcome respite from my losing streak.
The relief was short.
"Mr. McPherson?" a voice asked. It seemed familiar but I couldn't place it. There were very few people who had this number and I didn't recognize the caller ID.
I answered that she had reached the right person.
"It's Amelia," she said. "Amelia Cardelli."
As if I had a list of Amelias to choose from.
"Hello, kiddo," I said cheerfully.
Amelia's reply was tearful.
"We need your help," she said. "Mom and me. Enrico's gone and Mom is really worried. I'm scared, too. I didn't know who else to call. Can you come here? Please?"
"Let me speak to your mother for a moment, if I may," I said. I wasn't certain that Amelia had a firm grasp on the situation.
Seconds later, my long-ago girlfriend was on the line.
"Who is this?" she asked as if I had called her.
"It's Michael McPherson," I replied.
"What do you want?" she asked with venom dripping from each word.
"Actually, your daughter called me," I said. I heard a familiar plaintive cry of "Mom" from the background. I assumed that Amelia was trying to explain the phone call.
"Linda, is everything OK there?" I asked.
I heard a deep breath from the other end.
"Why would you care?" she asked harshly.
"May I assume that your daughter exaggerated when she said you remembered me fondly?" I asked. "I care only because I wouldn't want harm to come to either you or her."
"Violet went on a rampage when Rico told her about Tony," Linda Federici hissed. "I could hear her screaming through the telephone. This morning, she called Rico and he went to visit her. He hasn't returned and he is not picking up his cell. She's crazy, Michael. Do you remember how she is?"
I did remember Violent Violet's temper. But I also remembered what Amelia had told me the day before.
"Are you certain that something is amiss?" I asked trying to be tactful. "Or is there perhaps another reason Mr. Federici is away from his phone?"
"I know about the sex, Michael," she said harshly. "You don't have to be coy. And no, I have no doubt that is the reason he went over but he's never been gone this long. She comes to his office or he goes to her house, they do their thing and one of them leaves."
She was matter-of-fact in her assessment. I couldn't imagine the Linda Cardelli I remembered putting up with that. But it was a long time ago that I knew her. I would imagine that she couldn't imagine that I would disembowel my father, either.
"Something has happened," she continued. "And I will admit that because of Violet's temper, I worry that Amelia and I might be in some danger."
"I'll be there in 20 minutes," I said. "Can I have your address?"
"Michael, there is no need for you to get involved in this," she said. But she gave me the address anyway.
I turned to my house guest and told them I need to go out for a little while.
"We might have a couple of other guests," I said. "I hope that won't create a problem."
"Your house," Janet said with a smile.
"Your rules," Lila chimed in.
"Besides, if we don't like them we can always go to the next county for the night," Janet said. "I mean, you call it a part of your house but I'm certain it has its own ZIP code."
I decided that I would definitely miss these two when they left.
"I'll call if I'm going to be past 9 or so," I said. "I don't really have time to show you how to set the alarm, so I'll do it before I go. That means you can't go outside. Is that a problem?"
"It's cold and crappy," Lila said. "I'm in for the night."
"Me, too," Janet added. "Unless you want for me to come with you."
"No," I answered quickly. Janet seemed to get the wrong impression from my statement.
"Oh, work stuff," she said frostily.
I wanted to salvage the situation but I didn't have a lot of time.
"Do you remember the girl I told you about yesterday?" I asked. "The one who thought she was my daughter?"
"Oh, turkey baster girl," Lila said before Janet could answer.
"She called and said her stepfather is missing," I continued. "She is worried for her safety and that of her mother."
I was pulling on my coat as I uttered the last sentence. Janet followed me to the door.
"So she called you?" she asked quietly. "The man who threatened violent acts upon her if he wasn't paid off?"
Janet held my arm tightly.
"Mac," she said. "Be careful."
I nodded and Janet surprised me by kissing me softly on the cheek.
"Call Marcus on the way," she insisted. "Please?"
I nodded. I knew Marcus was unavailable until Sunday afternoon but I knew it would make Janet feel better.
Like Janet, I worried about being set up. I had pushed the Federicis pretty hard without knowing how a variable might react. That variable was Violet Federici. I knew Enrico would know the score. I knew Amelia would probably tell her mother that my threat was idle — if she hadn't originally, I was certain she had conveyed the information by this time.
But I also knew that $50,000 would put Federici out of business. I hadn't anticipated it when I told him the amount but after a little research I had confirmed that Amelia's assessment was correct. Enrico Federici was losing control of his operation — to his son and his ex-wife.
Violet and Tony didn't have enough leverage to force him out yet. They also didn't have enough capital or influence to force or buy their way back in again if I shut Enrico down completely.
Both would be left on the outside looking in as someone more powerful took over — most likely me or someone I designated. Amelia and Linda would be left outside, too. But I was certain that I could find a job for Linda to keep the money rolling in. In fact, the job I would likely offer her would be more lucrative than the paltry amount Enrico had been clearing the past few months.
Yet I wondered if Enrico could face the prospect of having his lifestyle determined by his wife's earnings. His reaction to Marcus on Friday let me know of his racial bias. It isn't a far stretch to guess he held strong gender-bias issues as well. The fact that he flaunted his affair with his ex-wife in front of his current wife (who was far up the food chain in the looks and personality departments unless she had changed dramatically in the past 15 years or so) led me to believe that he would cringe at the thought of being supported by a mere woman.
Somehow I was OK with that — so long as it didn't create issues for his wife or stepdaughter.
The more I thought of Amelia the more I wondered who her father was. Linda's abrupt departure from my life wasn't extraordinarily traumatic. She was a year behind me in school and she had known from the start that I had no intentions of returning to take over my father's business. In hindsight, it would have been more of a surprise if she had chosen to stay with me instead of breaking up with me.
But it bothered me that she had given up the one thing she denied to me within weeks of letting me go.
The sight of flashing blue lights in front of the address I was given brought my thoughts back to the present. I probably should have driven past and left it — and Linda and Amelia — behind me. I hadn't seen Linda (Cardelli) Federici in 15 years and her daughter wasn't my responsibility.
And still I pulled in behind the cruisers and go out.
Amelia Cardelli and her mother were standing on the porch of the house taking to three officers. Amelia spotted me walking up the sidewalk and raced to me — wrapping her arms around me and burying her head in my shoulder.
Linda Federici watched with a mixture of disdain and horror and the officers watched with interest.
I patted Amelia's back gingerly. She gazed up at me with tear-stained eyes. The whore-face she had worn Friday was replaced with youthfulness and sadness.
"They're dead," she said. "They're both dead."
"Both of them?" I asked. There was no question in my mind that Violet was capable of killing her ex-husband. From the little I knew of their tumultuous relationship I wondered that it hadn't happened earlier. But she hadn't seemed like the suicidal type.
The lead officer had followed Amelia down the steps and heard my question.
"Sir, may I get your name and why you're here?" the man asked. "Are you Mrs. Federici's attorney?"
"My name is Michael McPherson," I said. The officer jotted the name down with no apparent recognition. "And I'm here..."
"Because he's my father and I called him," Amelia said. "I was scared. That woman is crazy. When Enrico didn't come home I was scared. So I called my Dad."
The officer viewed me with a renewed interest. I saw Linda standing on the porch. She had a look of horror and sadness over the death of her husband.
"Amelia," she said but then cut off whatever was supposed to come next.
"Do you mind if I ask you some questions, Mr... ," the officer said before glancing at his notepad. "McPherson?"
I shrugged my shoulders. Amelia still hadn't released her grip around my neck.
"How well did you know Mr. Federici?" he asked.
"Barely," I said. "In fact, before yesterday I hadn't seen, heard or thought of him in years."
The man glanced toward Amelia.
"So you're saying you've had little part of your daughter's life?" he asked.
"Until recently I was unaware of her existence," I answered. So far I had not lied. I mentally patted myself on the back.
"You said you saw Mr. Federici yesterday," he continued. "May I ask about the details of that meeting?"
I started to be a smart ass and reply that he was free to ask about them. Instead I just gave him the answer.
"The details of my conversation with Enrico Federici were private," I said evenly. "Suffice it to say that I had an issue with his son. I addressed it and departed."
"So there was no ill will?" the officer wanted to know. "Your problem was with, uh, Anthony and not Enrico Federici?"
"When I left Mr. Federici yesterday, I had no problem with either of them," I said. "The situation was concluded to my satisfaction."
"Sir, it is hard to believe that it is a coincidence that you had words with Mr. Federici on Friday and he is dead on Saturday," the man stated. He seemed somewhat proud of himself. "After all, the man was raising your daughter. Are you aware of his business activities?"
"Acutely," I replied. "Are you aware that his ex-wife is known less-than-affectionately as Violent Violet? Amelia, dear, would you go up to your mother, please?"
She complied after tightening her arms in another hug.
"Officer, how long have you worked here?" I asked him.
The man pondered the question before answering.
"Three years," he said. "I fail to see the relevance in my tenure at the police department."
"And you're not from here originally, are you?" I continued.
"Sir," he said, but I persisted.
"If you'll indulge me an answer to that question, I will show you the relevance," I said.
"No, I'm not from here," he replied. "I moved here three years ago when I got the job."
"Sir, I am Michael McPherson The Second," I said. "My father was Michael McPherson, head of the McPherson Crime Syndicate. I know that name probably doesn't mean anything to you. But I'm sure it does to your colleagues if they have lived here longer. Since my father's disappearance, I am in charge of his company."
"So what are you saying?" he asked belligerently. I noticed his hand had gone down to the butt of his service weapon. "That you're untouchable? Because, buddy, I can assure you that you're not."
"I am not your buddy," I said. "If you wish to continue this conversation, you will address me as Mr. McPherson and speak to me with respect. What I am saying, Officer, is that if I wanted either Enrico Federici or his ex-wife dead, you and your collection of Keystone Kops would be the very last to know about it, let alone find a body. Now we both know what happened at Violet Federici's house. She killed him and then killed herself. Right?"
Becky
- 23.06.2021
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