Carter Reed novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: Neutral Ground

On Thursday at noon, Carter's hand rested at the small of my back as we walked into Benedetto's.

It was a heavy, still hand, and I could feel every finger through my black dress and Wyatt's green parka.

The shooter from Monday night had left a brass shell on a rooftop across the river and nothing else.

Carter had not left my side since.

Tori walked on my other side in a borrowed black blouse, her curls pinned up, her chin high.

She had asked to come.

She had said, "If I hide, he wins twice."

The restaurant had been cleared for the day except for one long table in the back room.

At the head of it sat Giorgio Ferraro.

He was shorter than I'd imagined, heavy, with white hair combed back and a gold signet ring.

His coat hung on the chair behind him, camel wool, spotless.

Beside him stood a thin man of about thirty-three with a flat stare.

Two more men sat at the sides of the table, one grey and one balding, older than the rest.

Carter had told me about them in the car.

They were the witnesses, from two other families, and the table's whole point was that they be able to say later what had been said.

A waiter set down a bread basket, and his hand shook.

Giorgio flicked the back of that hand with two fingers.

"Clumsy," he said. "Go."

The waiter went.

"Carter," Giorgio said warmly. "Sit. You've brought guests."

"Giorgio. My condolences to you and your wife."

"My wife doesn't leave her bed. You understand."

"I do."

"Then tell me why you're sitting at my table with the girl who killed her only son."

The room went still.

I looked at Carter.

He had told me, in the car, to say nothing and let him deny it.

I had told him I'd think about it.

I stepped forward before he could stop me.

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