A Matter of Blood by Catherine Maiorisi

Author:Catherine Maiorisi [Maiorisi, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781594935718
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 2018-01-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Going up in the elevator to Corelli’s apartment, Parker pressed her temples, trying to clear her head. After a restless night, she’d finally fallen into an exhausted sleep thinking about the good feelings at Gianna’s house and the love between Corelli and her sisters. But a few hours later, after dreaming about protecting Corelli in a shootout with the Mafia, she’d bolted upright covered in sweat. Over and over, she pulled Corelli to safety and, every time, Corelli dashed back into the line of fire. After a shower and a cup of tea, Parker dozed fitfully until finally at four thirty, she gave up the idea of sleeping. She showered, dressed, and sat at the table with a cup of tea. And obsessed about Corelli.

She couldn’t figure her out. Was she brave or did she have a death wish? Was she honest or the rogue cop ostracized by her peers? Was she the loving sister or the daughter shunned by her parents? And, she couldn’t reconcile the brave, honest cop and loving sister, with the nasty, condescending Corelli, who harassed and insulted one of the few cops in the department willing to stand with her.

When the elevator pinged the seventh floor, Parker pressed her temples again. She needed to focus. At eight, the elevator doors opened and she stepped into Corelli’s apartment. Corelli was at the table with the newspaper open, a cup of coffee near her left hand and an ice pack wrapped around her right hand. “Morning. Have you seen today’s Daily World?”

“No. Why?”

“Help yourself to coffee. Take a look. We made the front page. There’s a picture of us holding Petralia up. You look good, Parker. I look like a wet rag.”

Coffee in hand, Parker looked over Corelli’s shoulder. There they were on the front page, one on each side of Petralia waiting for the locals to come and arrest him. Corelli was right. Her anxiety didn’t show. She looked serious, professional.

While Corelli was getting ready, Parker sipped her coffee and read the article, which described how they had happened on the scene and saved the day. The article had some mistakes. It didn’t mention that the boy was Toricelli’s grandson, and it made it sound as if she and Corelli had saved the boy, but she hadn’t done anything. She thought about Corelli’s story about her brother. Would any fifteen-year-old girl growing up in that environment be crazy enough to threaten a Mafia don? She didn’t think so. But, then again, the grownup Corelli seemed crazy, so maybe it wasn’t the wars or the undercover assignment. Maybe she’d always been crazy.

“Parker, I’m sorry. I need your help again.”

Parker retrieved the holster and strapped it on with no thought for the closeness and touching involved. She held out the jacket but Corelli shook her head. “Later.” She picked up the ice pack and wrapped it around her hand again.

“How’d your hand get so bad? I didn’t notice it last night.”

“Toricelli’s grandson had a steel grip.”

A loud ringing filled the apartment.

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