Chapter 3 - The Wrong Man Walked Into the Diner
Three nights passed.
Nothing happened.
That made Emma more nervous.
She worked.
She slept badly.
And twice a day, she checked the hospital account to make sure the zero was real.
Rosie leaned against the counter during a quiet shift.
“You know most people would celebrate getting eighty-six thousand dollars of debt erased.”
“I didn’t ask him to.”
“That doesn’t make the balance less zero.”
Emma gave her a look.
Rosie raised both hands.
“I’m just saying.”
The bell above the door rang.
A man entered.
Forties.
Tan coat.
Ordinary face.
Nothing expensive.
Nothing threatening.
Still, Emma’s instincts tightened.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“Sure.”
He sat at table eight.
Emma hated that immediately.
She poured him a cup.
“You Emma?”
Her hand stopped.
“Depends.”
“On?”
“Who’s asking.”
The man smiled.
“Smart.”
Emma stepped backward.
“Rosie.”
The man’s smile disappeared.
“No need for that.”
Rosie appeared at the kitchen window.
Emma didn’t take her eyes off him.
“What do you want?”
“To ask about your friend.”
“I have a lot of friends.”
“The one the cops missed.”
Silence.
Emma placed the coffee pot down.
“You should leave.”
The man leaned forward.
“Luca Moretti isn’t your friend.”
“I never said he was.”
“He paid your hospital debt.”
Emma’s blood ran cold.
“How do you know that?”
He smiled again.
There it was.
The mistake.
Emma understood immediately.
This man wasn’t guessing.
He had information.
She slowly reached beneath the counter and pressed the silent security alarm.
The man stood.
“Don’t.”
Emma met his eyes.
“You don’t get to walk into my job and threaten me.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“You’re terrible at it.”
He moved closer.
“Tell Moretti to stop looking for Carlo Vescari.”
Emma’s heart pounded.
“Who?”
“You heard me.”
“I really didn’t.”
“Tell him Carlo had nothing to do with that night.”
Emma forced a shrug.
“Then Carlo probably shouldn’t send strangers into diners to say he had nothing to do with it.”
The man stared at her.
Behind him, Rosie quietly picked up a cast-iron skillet.
Emma almost smiled.
The stranger noticed.
“This is funny to you?”
“No.”
Emma nodded toward Rosie.
“But if you come behind this counter, she’s going to hit you with that.”
Rosie lifted the skillet.
“Hard.”
The man glanced toward the windows.
A police cruiser turned into the parking lot.
His expression changed.
Emma said, “You should go.”
He leaned closer one final time.
“Moretti will get you killed.”
Then he walked out.
The cruiser stopped.
Two officers entered.
Emma gave them the description and told them exactly what had happened.
She did not mention Luca.
She did mention Carlo Vescari.
That evening, Luca arrived after closing.
Emma was waiting for him.
The second he walked inside, she threw a folded dish towel at his chest.
He caught it.
“What was that?”
“My version of punching you.”
“I prefer the towel.”
“You told me I’d be protected.”
“You were.”
“Some man walked into my diner and knew about my hospital bills.”
Luca’s face darkened.
“What man?”
Emma described him.
Luca listened without interrupting.
Then she mentioned Carlo.
He became perfectly still.
“You know him.”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
“My father’s former partner.”
“Former?”
“He wants what I have.”
“What exactly do you have?”
Luca gave her a tired look.
“You know what the news calls me.”
“I’m asking what you call yourself.”
That caught him off guard.
Finally he said, “A man who inherited a business he never wanted.”
Emma laughed.
“A business?”
“Some of it is legitimate.”
“And the rest?”
Luca looked away.
“The rest is why I’m trying to change it.”
She studied him.
“You expect me to believe the mafia boss is cleaning up the mafia?”
“My father died eleven months ago.”
His tone changed.
“He built an empire on fear. I watched it destroy everyone around him.”
“So you took over?”
“If I walked away immediately, Vescari would have taken everything—including the legitimate companies employing hundreds of people.”
Emma folded her arms.
“So you stayed.”
“To dismantle what I could without starting a war.”
“Sounds like that plan is going beautifully.”
Luca almost laughed.
Then his phone rang.
Salvatore.
Luca answered.
“Yes?”
His expression changed.
“When?”
Emma watched him.
“Is he alive?”
Pause.
“I’m coming.”
He hung up.
“What happened?”
“One of my accountants was attacked.”
“The traitor?”
“No.”
Luca moved toward the door.
“He was helping me trace money Carlo’s been stealing.”
Emma’s anger faded.
“Is that why Carlo wants you dead?”
“Partly.”
“What’s the other part?”
Luca looked back.
“Tomorrow morning I was supposed to meet federal investigators.”
Emma stared.
“You were going to turn evidence over?”
“Yes.”
“Against Carlo?”
“Against everyone.”
“Including yourself?”
Silence.
That was answer enough.
Emma whispered, “You were going to cooperate.”
“I still am.”
“Then last night wasn’t just a mafia hit.”
“No.”
“It was someone trying to stop you from talking.”
“Yes.”
Emma suddenly understood why he hadn’t gone to the police.
Why he had run.
Why he had looked resigned.
Someone inside law enforcement might have been feeding information to Carlo.
Luca opened the door.
Emma called after him.
“Luca.”
He stopped.
“The man tonight knew about the hospital payment.”
“I heard you.”
“That information had to come from somewhere.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed.
Emma continued.
“Who knew you paid it?”
A long silence.
“Four people.”
“Salvatore?”
“Yes.”
“Your accountant?”
“Yes.”
“Who else?”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“My attorney.”
“And?”
He looked at her.
May you like
“My younger brother.”
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