Part 2

Despite what Dad said, Philly Falzone was not a man I would trust with a houseplant, much less important things like money and lives. So it was on this hunch that I paused outside the office door when he was around that next week —it was open a crack, and the light was on.

My suspicions were aroused when I heard Marco say, "So how do we proceed?"

Then Philly's voice replied, "John says he's got the situation handled; he'll try finding out what the con wants."

"He can't be broken?" Marco asked.

"Not if losing two toes is anything to judge."

"Two?" Marco said incredulously. "Yeah, see for yourself. John gave 'em to me yesterday."

I jumped and clapped my hands over my mouth before I gasped and gave myself away. "You think he'll get the kid to talk by bein' nice?" Marco asked after a pause —presumably to inspect the severed digits. I took several breaths to get rid of the creepy-crawly shivers up and down my back.

"I think he's got plenty of incentive," Philly said significantly. "He doesn't want to be a has-been, and he doesn't want anything to happen to his kids."

I went from icy chill to boiling lava in .2 seconds. I dug my nails into my hands and gritted my teeth, attempting to quench the urge to throttle Philly. No one threatened my family.

"Mom, why are the kids going up to the lake with Uncle Philly?" I said, helping her chop up the vegetables for the salad tonight.

"Well, he offered, and you know they're such good friends with Marie and Anders," Mom said.

"Well, why now?" I pressed.

"Probably because they wanted to go swimming, honey," she said, shooting me a puzzled look. "What's this about? Did you want to go?"

"No, I just —I just don't feel right about it," I said, frowning at the onion I was cutting, daring it to make me cry.

"Marla's going with them, and she looks after Tony and Sophia just as strictly as she does her own kids. I know you're a worrywart, Oh, but you don't need to worry about this." She hugged me and kissed my cheek. "How did your father look when you saw him Saturday?"

"Fine," I said with a sigh. "I told him about what we've been up to. Said to tell everyone 'hey' and tell the kids 'good job' on their schoolwork."

"Did you tell him how your homeschooling has been going?" Mom asked.

"No." I licked my lips.

"Have you still not told him that I've been homeschooling you, Oh?" she asked, surprised, washing her knife off in the sink.

"I didn't want to tell him that I couldn't stand people looking at me anymore," I mumbled. "Which is completely ridiculous, because Philly's kids go to that school, and so do half the people who deal under the table in this city!" I griped. "So you'd think they wouldn't like at me like I was a leper, those hypocrites."

Mom wrapped her arms around me, hands fluttering. "Oh, it'll be all right," she whispered.

"I know, Mom," I said, letting her mother me for a minute. She got the chance so seldom now that I was seventeen. "I figure I'll research schools during the summer, and tell Dad that whichever one I decide on is better for college and that's why I'm transferring."

"I still think you should tell him," she said softly.

"Mom, it's not because I'm ashamed of him," I said. "It's not because of him at all. It's because of those hypocrite kids at St. Francis. So I'm not going to have him worry about it. Do you want me to set the table?" I said, changing the subject.

Philly Falzone was low down, lying, dirty rotten skunk. In a very expensive suit. "You can't do that!" I yelled, throwing my hands in the air. "I manage the accounts; you had no right to liquidate anything!"

Philly stared at me with the most irritating expression on his face. "You are seventeen years old, Catriona, far too young for any of the family business."

"I started crunching numbers when I was twelve," I hissed. Not to mention you threatened me and my brother and sister to get what you wanted, I added in my head. No need for him to know how much I knew. "How dare you do this."

"Well, Catriona, John's a has-been. He's had plenty of chances to find out where Fibonacci is, and he's gotten no results. There are consequences for that." He brushed off his suit and walked past me out the door.

I clenched my fists and contained the scream building up inside me.

"Oh, Oh, come to play," Sophia and Tony called running in the parlor and tugging on my hands.

I swallowed and took a deep breath. "Hey, Mom's resting, okay? How about we color instead?" I got them situated at the table in the playroom and while they drew houses and airplanes, I practiced Philly's signature over and over again.

"That's what I said, Daddy —he liquidated everything." I wound the phone cord around my fingers as I stared at the computer. "I'm looking at the numbers right now. Mom's money is all there, but —" I nodded, resigned. "No. I won't touch it; I know. But this Bellick guy —how much does he get? I could get in my account —"

I paused as he cut me off. "I know it's for college, Daddy, but how much does this guy get, anyway? It's not like…." I stopped as my eyes widened at the figure. "Oh. Okay. Right."

I glanced over my shoulder. "Well, let me see if I can work something out, okay? I'm going to make Sal gimme a look at Philly's accounts. I've been practicing his signature."

Dad rumbled down the line again.

"Dad, I'm always careful," I said with a smile. "You want to talk to Mom?"

I covered the receiver and called, "Mom! Dad's on the phone!"

Mom wandered in from the kitchen, holding a tomato. "John?" she said, smiling as she took the phone. I took the tomato and put it back in the bowl.

"Well, well, good news," Philly said, though he looked disgruntled. "The con who's got Fibonacci's location is ready to talk." I raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Wants to meet me in person, little prick," he mumbled.

"Nice. I'm coming," I said, getting off the couch.

"Catriona, this is business —"

"I'm coming," I repeated, glaring at him. Then I smiled. "I need to tell Dad about the kids' All A's report cards, after all."

He grumbled, "Fine. Get the boys and tell them to start the car."

I grabbed my purse and hollered into the basement, "Marco, Louis, let's go!"

It was not a fun car ride. We did not listen to the radio or talk. I sat and listened to my iPod in the back seat and watched the mile markers pass. When we got to Ethan's exit, I leaned forward and said, "Pull off here."

"Keep going," Philly said without looking up from his blackberry. I'd bet dollars to donuts he was only playing Snake on there.

"Pull off or I'm peeing in this car," I countered.

Marco pulled off so fast I heard the wheels squeal.

Inside the gas station I went to the bathroom (which was clean —good job Ethan) and then grabbed the XL size of Slurpee, plus a bag of Doritos and two packs of M&M's and some sour gummy worms. I dropped it all on the counter in front of Ethan and handed him the card I swiped off Louis. "What a crowd," he said, watching them poke around. "What's the occasion?"

During the past few weeks I had made the drive, we had chatted a lot when I stopped, and chatted even more on my way back. Besides being cute, Ethan was a good conversationalist. When he wasn't caught off guard, that is.

"Philly wants to get info on this guy," I explained, watching him ring me up. "I'm going to see my Dad."

"And keep an eye on things?" he suggested.

"Oh, you know me," I said. We shared a smile. "Hey," I said. "You should have my number."

He blinked, startled. "Um — is that—"

"To call me," I clarified. "If you want."

"Yeah, totally," Ethan said, finding his tongue. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sure. I'd like that."

"Here," I said, handing him a folded piece of paper.

He took it and put it in his pocket. "What's a good time to call?" he asked.

I nodded approvingly. "Around eight, if you're off by then."

"Yeah, I usually open and work 'til three," he said.

I smiled. "Okay. Talk to you later." I gathered up my purchases.

"You want a bag?"

I shot him a smug look. "I've got staff. Hey Louis!" The big man turned and gave me a surly look. "Give me a hand, huh?" I said, indicating the pile.

He reluctantly grabbed the bags, and I took a big slurp of the Slurpee. "See you around," I told Ethan with a smile.

When we got to the prison, I sat by myself at a table, and Philly took another. I cracked open my book to wait —I only had three more chapters to find out who the murderer was, and I was pretty sure my suspicions were right. A minute later, I glanced up to see Dad come out with another guy. He nodded to me, and I smiled, and then he sat down with Philly.

I looked back down at my book, ignoring the snatches of conversation until I heard my father say, "Now go and sit with my daughter until we finish business, Fish."

The man with very blue eyes came to sit by me. "Hi," I said, slipping my hand into my pocket.

"Hi," he sighed. "So you're John's daughter."

"Yup," I agreed.

"Not much family resemblance," he commented.

"I'm adopted," I replied blithely. "So you're the con with Fibonacci's location."

He just smiled a little.

I took his hand. "Sorry about your toes," I said, as I palmed him some M&M's.

He started, but then relaxed. "Cute."

"Don't eat them now," I said, looking back down at my book. "And don't let the dye stain your hands.

"Will do," he replied with a little smile. "What's your name?"

"Catriona," I said. "You?"

"Michael. Michael Schofield."

We sat in silence for a while until Philly stood up and Dad walked over. "Hi, Dad," I said, and passed him some M&M's.

"Hey, Oh," he said. "How's your mother?"

"Better; her headaches were acting up, but they changed the dose on her migraine pills and that's helped." Both men had their line of sight somewhere back and to the left of me. "What's Philly doing?" I said innocently.

"Probably calling up the Family," Dad said.

"So that's it?" I handed a few more M&M's to him.

"That's it," he said, nodding.

"And that guard lays off your case?"

"Check's in his account. Stop worrying, Catriona." His look was fond but slightly exasperated.

"That's like asking me to stop breathing," I chuckled.

Michael looked back and forth between us, interested.

"Bye, Fish," Dad said pointedly.

"Nice girl, John. Good to meet you, Catriona," Michael said, getting up.

I waved at him. "Bye, Michael." As he disappeared behind the gate, I offered, "He seems nice."

"He's got too much cleverness for his own good," Dad said. "How are the kids?"

I launched into a blow-by-blow of the past week, cheerfully knowing Philly would have to wait until a guard told me time was up.