Chapter 22: The Confrontation

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Feeling a little paranoid, Sara waited until the sun went down before heading for Joe's. It would be a Hell of a lot harder to see her leave, much less be able to follow her after dark. A motorcycle handled better in traffic, and with the way she drove, there wasn't a soul alive that could keep up with her.

The Siris lived about thirty minutes away, given usual traffic conditions. With the extra detouring and doubling back to check and see if she was being followed, it took her forty-five. She didn't see anyone suspicious. If there had been a tail, Pez was confident she'd lost it.

The residential district Sara drove into looked a little less run down at night. The neighborhood had been built in the fifties, and over time it had become genteelly shabby. In the dark you couldn't see the signs of decay. Sara parked her bike and walked slowly up the five concrete steps to the covered porch of the Siri residence.

Pez raised a hand to knock and hesitated. Now that she was here, she wasn't sure she wanted to have this conversation. She was still hurting from their last discussion. How many more painful revelations could she take? Sara straightened her spine. She could take it because the alternative was untenable. She would not let her father's killers escape justice.

Knuckles rapped on wood with aggression, anger carrying Pezzini forward to the confrontation that had been brewing ever since the day Joe had been the one to tell her that her father had died in the line of duty. The day that Siri began the lie that protected murderers. This conversation should have been had a long, long time ago.

"Sara? What brings you out to suburbia so late? What time is it anyway?" Joe pretended to be looking at his watch because he couldn't look Pez in the eye.

"It's late. It's too damn late, but we're gonna do this anyway." Sara glared, green eyes snapping fire.

"What're you talking about?" Siri shook his head, confusion crossing his features.

"The White Bulls, Joe. Talk to me," Sara snapped the words off like rounds from her Glock.

"There's nothing to talk about." Joe closed his eyes, feeling every minute of his years, every ounce of the burden he carried, and would carry for the rest of his life.

"Like Hell there isn't. My dad trusted you. I trusted you. You practically raised me. So please don't lie to me any more, Joe. I can't take it. It's tearing me apart." Sara's anger was eclipsed by pain. This was her surrogate father, the man who had bounced her on his knee and been the shoulder she cried on. How could he do this to her?

Joe flinched from the look in her eyes. "Sara, what I told you wasn't a lie. James died because he was fighting the good fight, it just wasn't the battle you knew about."

"Why didn't you tell me?" It was a plea for understanding, hoping against hope that Siri would somehow say something that would make it all right, would excuse the lie.

"You were in no position to right this wrong, but you'd have tried. There were too many of them, still are. They'll kill you if you get in their way. I couldn't stand to lose you too." Siri looked at the woman who was as close to his heart as a daughter. Going to her funeral would have broken him.

"Then help me. Together we have a chance," Pez pleaded.

"Oh Sara, you have no idea what you're up against. My help wouldn't even begin to be enough." Joe shook his head sadly.

"Who's help should I ask for, then? Anyone I approach could be one of them." Sara paused, wondering if he knew that McCarty was F.B.I. If he didn't, she wasn't going to break Jake's cover. If Siri had already figured out the Feebie, it would be best to find out now, so she could tell Jake right away that he'd been made.

"There isn't anybody that's clean in this town with enough clout to help you. Do you think I never went looking, just like you're doing now? The only difference between us is, I already knew what was going on." Siri stepped deeper into the shadow left by the porch roof support column.

"What IS going on?" Sara knew his retreat for what it was. Joe was still afraid, even after all these years. The brunette was starting to get angry again. Why wouldn't the stubborn old bastard pull his head out and help her? "Come on Joe, the truth."

"The White Bulls killed your father." Siri paused and held up a hand when Pez would have spoken, "Gallo may have pulled the trigger, but it was a contract hit, and Dante was the one who ordered it done."

"And you knew this because?" Suspicion, a detective's constant companion, began to speculate over just how long Joe had been tangled up in the White Bulls, and how deep he was in.

"Because Dante and your old man had clashed before. James hated everything Bruno stood for, and he wasn't shy about his disapproval. Because I caught the roll-out. And, uh ..." Joe stepped back again, toward the door. "Come on in. I've got something to show you."

Pezzini followed Siri into the house, wondering what he was going to bring out. Did he have another copy of the tape, or was this going to be something else?

"Thank god it's the wife's bridge night." Joe mumbled as he headed for the fireplace. He didn't even want to think about Marie's reaction to all of this. She would not understand, and would probably be very angry with him over the situation.

Siri took a small box from the mantle and opened it. "I found this on the ground beside James' body. It's the White Bulls warn-off. Even back then it was worth your career, if not your life, to investigate a scene like that too deeply."

Sara took the shell casing that Siri held out to her. She turned it in her hand; pretty sure that she would see a bull engraved on the brass. When the dark shape was revealed, she looked up, "What did you do then?"

"Not a damn thing. What could I do? The Bulls were all around. I could feel eyes boring into my back for weeks afterwards. I know they were watching me. Marie and I were just married. We were about to have our first baby. I know it sounds cowardly, but I didn't want to be next."

Even though she knew it had to be something like this, Sara felt betrayed all over again. She stared down at the casing, the bull seeming to toss his horns in challenge. Pez blinked and the engraving was still again. It hadn't moved, her eyes were beginning to tear. Sara blinked harder, she would not cry, she wouldn't.

"Could you please say something?" Joe looked at the top of her bent head. She was staring at the spent brass as if willing it to give up all its secrets.

"Uh ... like what, Joe? Like, 'Yeah, it sounds pretty chicken-shit to me'?" Sara growled around a throat tight with suppressed tears.

"I knew I didn't stand a chance. I was alone, and scared." Siri tried to explain, even though he didn't feel that he deserved her understanding.

"So was Dad. It didn't stop him." Pez looked up finally, eyes wet and full of reproach.

"He was a better man than I am." Joe leaned against the mantle for support; gripping the box so tightly his knuckles were white. "I don't expect your sympathy, Sara. I've carried this burden ever since that night and it has cost me dearly."

"It's cost you? What about me?" Sara's voice was filled with incredulous fury. How dare he say that? What did his suffering weigh in the face of hers?

Joe bowed his head in the face of her wrath. There was nothing he could say; he'd put both his feet in his mouth that time. He'd lost a friend, but Sara had lost her father. Her mother had died years before that, and there was no other family for her to turn to. There was no way for him to understand what it was like to be that alone.

"You were right about one thing. I am going after them. I'd hoped you would help me, but if you're too big a coward to try, then I'll do it without you." Pez turned and walked toward the door. She had to get out before she shot Joe herself, and that wouldn't do.

Dead men don't testify in court, and Siri was damn well going to. He'd just used his last free pass. Sara would call Jake and arrange for them to hook up someplace where they could talk. The Feds would want to pick up Joe once they heard what she had to say.

The shell casing burned in her fist as she stalked toward her motorcycle. The brass went into a zippered jacket pocket and the Buell started with a roar that echoed the fury in her heart. Sara paused, hand on the throttle, and looked back at Joe's house. "I'm sorry it had to go down this way Joe, but I can't let it go."

As Pezzini peeled out, a man sat up in his car seat. He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and dialled. "Hey B, we got a problem with a capital P."

"Make sure Joe doesn't leave. I'm coming over." The voice of Bruno Dante came back over the line.

"No problem." The shadowy figure disconnected the line and sat back to wait.

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A/N: OK, is anyone still reading? I know it's taking a bit longer between posts, but I think the longer chapters and overall cohesion are better for it. Drop me a line, let me know what you think. I enjoy hearing from you all. Your opinion is important to me.