Apaches - Lorenzo Carcaterra [114]
“Because they’ll be waiting for you.” He turned to her, wanting so much to put his arms around her and protect her. But he didn’t. He just held the look and let it speak for him.
For all his bluster, Boomer Frontieri had a tough time connecting with women. Maybe it was his background. Maybe it was shyness, or, worse, fear. Or maybe he just didn’t want to make a mistake. Whatever the reason, he could never share his emotions with any woman he cared about. It had left him alone, without a wife, kids, or semblance of a real life. It was an emptiness that pained him even more than his wounds. For Boomer Frontieri there wasn’t any choice. He had to continue his private war with Lucia Carney. It was all that kept him alive.
Mrs. Columbo put out her hands and held Boomer’s face in them. “Then you be there, Boomer,” she said in a soft voice. “And make sure nothing happens to me.”
He said nothing for a long time. Then all he asked was “You got another plan worked up?”
“Don’t I always?” she said.
• • •
THEY SAT AROUND the table at Nunzio’s, their food growing cold as they listened to Mrs. Columbo tell them about her husband’s betrayal and Deputy Inspector Lavetti’s deception. No one moved and no one other than Mrs. Columbo spoke. She laid it out for them like a cop, sparing no details or facts in the telling.
As they listened they all realized what it was they were hearing. The Apaches were into more than a fight. They were in a war with an enemy eager to take them on. And now their names and faces were known.
“Any of you want to walk from the table, this is the time,” Boomer said after several moments of silence. “The truth is, if we had any brains at all, we would all walk away. Face the truth and deal with it.”
“What is the truth?” Rev. Jim asked.
“That we are what we know we are,” Boomer said. “Which is a big difference from what we think we are.”
“We’ve always known that truth, Boomer,” Geronimo said. “We said yes to this knowing we were only half of what we used to be. Nothing’s changed. Our destiny remains the same.”
“Nobody in here is eager to die,” Pins added. “I know I’m not. But we always knew they would figure out who we were sooner or later. We’ve just got to make sure we’re better prepared than they are.”
“They know who Mrs. Columbo is and what plane she’s on,” Dead-Eye said. “What they don’t know is what she’s going to be doing. Way I see it, we still hold the surprise card.”
“We can put it off,” Boomer said, impressed with the unity of the group. “Give everybody a chance to think about it some more.”
“I’ve done all the thinking I need to do,” Rev. Jim said. “It’s time to go to the dance.”
“Let’s just figure out a way to get Mrs. Columbo in and out of there,” Dead-Eye said. “Alive.”
“The same holds for you, Nunz,” Boomer said. “Lucia’s got your name too. You want to walk, now’s a good time.”
“I’m where I want to be,” Nunzio said. “In my restaurant.”
Boomer stared at each of them, looking for a dent in their resolve. He came away empty.
“Okay, then,” Boomer said with a smile. “What the hell. Let’s hear Mrs. Columbo’s plan.”
“How about I make some coffee first,” Rev. Jim said, getting ready to stand.
“I’ll make the coffee,” Nunzio said, putting a hand on Rev. Jim’s shoulder. “My stomach still remembers your last batch. It was strong enough to kill.”
“Maybe you should make that a part of your plan,” Dead-Eye said to Mrs. Columbo.
• • •
DEAD-EYE SOAKED IN the hot water of the ceramic tub, soap bubbles covering everything but his head. The heat from the water warmed his tired body. He had his head against the tile wall. A wet hand towel had been folded and slapped over his eyes.
Eddie crept quietly into the bathroom, removed the towel from his dad’s eyes, and used it to stroke the sides of his face. Dead-Eye looked over at him and smiled, always amazed at how closely the boy he loved so much resembled his own father.
The boy reached a small hand into the water and came out with a palm full of bubbles,