Loyalty by Lisa Scottoline

Author:Lisa Scottoline [Scottoline, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2023-03-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

It was almost midnight, and Franco, Roberto, and their men hid on horseback behind cypresses that flanked the dirt road. It was the route to Palermo, and this was the last night for Michele, the gabellotto who had left the family, to take his lemons to La Cala.

Roberto looked over, his silhouette indistinct in the darkness. “Are you sure about this, brother?”

“Yes. The others have to see the consequences.” Franco wasn’t surprised to hear Roberto balk. His twin had been remote since Niall had been dispatched at the auction.

“But Michele is harmless. Let him go.”

“We can’t. I told you, I’ll take care of it.”

They fell silent when they heard the approach of Michele’s caravan. The donkeys snorted and brayed, and the braccianti sang a tuneless song. Franco peered between the trees and spotted the caravan. He counted six donkeys and seven men, including Michele in the lead. Franco, Roberto, and his men easily outnumbered them.

“Wait till I give the order.” Franco watched Michele ride closer, unaware of the ambush awaiting him.

My wife just had a third baby, and my mother is sick.

Franco shooed the voice away. He straightened in the saddle and fixed on Michele. The man rode loosely, as if he had been drinking. The caravan grew closer, the singing louder.

The air carried the song of the braccianti, the sweet fragrance of the lemons, and the salty smell of the donkeys. The caravan was almost in range.

Franco raised his rifle, ready to give the order. Arabo shifted in anticipation, and the other horses tossed their heads.

“Vai!” Franco charged through the trees, followed by Roberto and his men. He shot Michele off his horse, and the braccianti scattered in fear. Roberto and his men ran them off, then gathered the donkey carts packed with lemons. The ambush was over in no time, and Roberto’s men whooped, firing into the sky.

Franco rode over to make sure Michele was dead, but the man lay moaning in the dirt, his chest dark with spreading blood.

“Franco,” Michele said, blood bubbling from his mouth. “Baron DiGiulio won’t . . . take care of my family. Will . . . you?”

“Yes.” Franco took out his pistol and shot him.

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