{"id":540,"date":"2020-07-30T23:19:20","date_gmt":"2020-07-30T23:19:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/?p=540"},"modified":"2021-10-14T21:04:15","modified_gmt":"2021-10-14T21:04:15","slug":"book-ii-chapter-28","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/2020\/07\/book-ii-chapter-28\/","title":{"rendered":"Book II – Chapter 28: Traitor"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\"\"Illustration by Eyugho<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou know in Europe it\u2019s illegal to call this Parmesan?\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos was slouched in a diner seat, one hand propping up his chin and the other clutching the offensive cheese shaker.<\/p>\n

Ferris sipped his coffee. \u201cYou don\u2019t say.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey.\u201d Demos slapped the green container onto the table, then leaned in. \u201cThis is serious. Some made-in-Ohio, cellulose powder bullshit isn\u2019t\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you open up the sugar packets and complain about those, too? You could make a career out of it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos glared. The speckled, laminate table stretched between them, its surface topped with coffee cups and unfurled napkins. The booths at the Sparrow Diner hadn\u2019t changed in the last twenty years, and neither had the food.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think any of my skills could translate to a normal job,\u201d Demos said. He wasn\u2019t wrong. Until the day there was an opening in the newspaper for a guy who could blow off a running man\u2019s kneecaps at 20 meters, Demos wouldn\u2019t have a lot of options.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou could be a chef, I guess.\u201d Ferris set the ceramic cup down, then angled the handle to the side. \u201cOr a model.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos struggled to keep the color from reaching his cheeks. He could feel the heat in his face and prayed to God it wasn\u2019t visible. He wondered if Ferris was deliberately trying to embarrass him \u2014 it was hard to tell from his expression.<\/p>\n

Demos looked down at the table and his fringe slipped past the bridge of his nose. \u201cI\u2019m too short to be a model.\u201d<\/p>\n

When there was no reply, Demos became hyper-aware of the hair in his face and tucked it over his ear like a teenage girl. It held in place for a few seconds before slinking back. He cursed under his breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you really think\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

Demos would never finish that sentence. A third body joined their table, bumping Ferris to the window so the two could share a booth seat.<\/p>\n

\u201cHassan,\u201d Demos said. The scowl he was harboring behind closed lips was audible in that single word.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t stay long.\u201d Hassan glanced out the window. \u201cIsn\u2019t this too public?\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos folded his arms. \u201cYou\u2019re the one that wanted to be indoors.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris wasn\u2019t being at all subtle about his discomfort. He was leaning away from his new seatmate, his retreat thwarted by the stock-still window. Hassan didn\u2019t seem to notice. The man brushed aside discarded sugar packets, making room for his elbows on the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was going to tell you, before you abandoned me for that phone call,\u201d Hassan said. \u201cYou do whatever your uncle says, sahee?\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos leaned back, stretching an arm across the seat. \u201cYou would have done what he said too, if you knew what was good for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hassan\u2019s lips flattened. Demos hadn\u2019t forgotten \u2014 Hassan had been explicitly instructed to leave Southport after his first meeting with Victor. He\u2019d stayed, and was now caught up in some portentous Mariani scheme.<\/p>\n

\u201cRight, right. You wanted to know how they found out about your demo \u2014 the weapon demo for Six Pines.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos straightened in his seat.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think you can guess who it was,\u201d Hassan said.<\/p>\n

Ferris took a breath, then spoke. \u201cAlonzo.\u201d<\/p>\n

Both men turned to look at him. Demos\u2019 expression was particularly bruised, his brow tight over locked eyes. Hassan simply nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow did you know?\u201d Demos said, his voice only half as strong as it had been a moment ago.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t.\u201d Ferris looked down into his coffee cup, watching reflections quiver over the surface. \u201cBut he\u2019s a regular at the Looking Glass. He knew about the casino, about the demo \u2014 everything.\u00a0 <\/span>Back on that recording, when they mentioned \u2018Al\u2019 \u2014 it wasn\u2019t Aldo, was it? It was Alonzo.\u201d<\/p>\n

Hassan gave a helpless shrug. \u201cYes. He introduced me to the Marianis \u2014 that same day, after the docks.\u201d<\/p>\n

Any thoughts of faux Parmesan or side careers were long-forgotten. Demos\u2019 hand had a death-grip on his mug, his fingertips reddening with the pressure on the ceramic. Alonzo wasn\u2019t just a pain in the ass anymore. He had shed his role of \u2018contentious, bigoted, distant family member\u2019 and had claimed a new title \u2014 traitor. He wasn\u2019t just trying to \u2018out\u2019 Demos, or embarrass him. Alonzo had been trying to take the Ghost out of the picture \u2014 entirely.<\/p>\n

Demos swallowed the knot in his throat. \u201cSo, Sandro\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAlonzo sent him after you, to the casino. Said he wanted to prove something? I never caught the details. It was you, though \u2014 wasn\u2019t it? The reason Sandro never came home.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos didn\u2019t reply. He was too caught up in his thoughts, pieces connecting, words coming together to form a whole picture. What did Alonzo need him out of the way for? What was Alonzo planning on doing?<\/p>\n

\u201cVictor needs to know,\u201d Ferris said.<\/p>\n

Demos finally looked up, meeting Ferris\u2019 eyes. \u201cHe won\u2019t act without proof.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have proof.\u201d Hassan shrugged. \u201cI only overheard it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Italian drew his hand to his mouth, his eyes flickering from one corner of the table to the other. Victor trusted him, but not enough to take out a family member without evidence.<\/p>\n

\u2018Hey Uncle Vic, remember that sex trafficker who you threatened to burn alive if he didn\u2019t leave town? I\u2019ve been hanging out with him! He says Alonzo is a traitor. Crazy, right?\u2019<\/i><\/p>\n

\u2018Hey Uncle Vic, Alonzo has repeatedly attempted to expose my sexuality to the entire world. Oh, you didn\u2019t know? Guess what, I\u2019m gay!\u2019<\/i><\/p>\n

Neither of those journeys would have a happy ending.\u00a0 <\/span>Demos had already pissed his uncle off several times in the last few weeks. Approaching him without proof would undoubtedly end with a lot of screaming. The tables would have to turn \u2014 now it would be Demos\u2019 turn to prove something. Something in writing \u2014 something recorded. Evidence.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, and one more thing,\u201d Hassan said. \u201cYour doctor \u2014 Will Mendoza? Alonzo lured him out.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos\u2019 stare hardened on Hassan\u2019s features.<\/p>\n

Hassan looked straight back. \u201cBut Aldo killed him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course it was Aldo.\u201d Demos was speaking through his teeth. \u201cOf fucking course.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIs there any way you could get it on tape?\u201d Ferris said. \u201cOr a photo, or\u2014 or anything?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMm, I don\u2019t know. I can try. No promises \u2014 I feel as if I\u2019ve already repaid the favor I owe you by coming into this\u2014 what is this, a historical landmark?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris\u2019 gaze flattened. \u201cIt\u2019s a diner.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnyhow\u2014\u201c Hassan tugged back his sleeve, examining the hands on a gold watch. \u201cI\u2019ve already been here too long. I\u2019ll do what I can.\u201d<\/p>\n

The man edged himself out of the booth, dusted his chest, and disappeared behind a waitress without another word.<\/p>\n

\u201cBye, I guess,\u201d Ferris said to no one.<\/p>\n

Demos was silent, his body burning a ghost-shaped hole into the vinyl booth seat. The corners of his eyes had reddened, his palms twisting against one another between clasped hands.<\/p>\n

A thought crossed Demos\u2019 mind. \u201cI could\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cMurder him, and make it look like an accident?\u201d Ferris said. \u201cI don\u2019t think so.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos narrowed his stare. \u201cHow did you\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cYou usually just default to murder.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Ghost had no response. It had been worth a shot. Demos and logic did not have a close and personal relationship, but at this moment it was begging him to look for other options. For once, it might be good to listen. This wouldn\u2019t be Demos\u2019 decision.<\/p>\n

Demos took in a long breath through his nose. It would have to be a conversation for a later time. He gestured to their waiter for the check, then returned to fiddling with his already-abused coffee mug.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know I\u2019m still mad at you,\u201d Demos said. \u201cFor hiring Seamus without asking me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you have told me \u2018no?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2014 I just\u2014\u201d Demos took a moment to collect his words.\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cI\u2019ve already ruined your life. I don\u2019t want to ruin his, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris\u2019 expression shifted. The cold angle of his brow relented, lips parting with nothing to say.<\/p>\n

\u201cSergio\u2019d better keep his promise,\u201d Demos said. His voice was low, as if he were talking to the coffee cup he was presently accosting and not the man across the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cDemos, you haven\u2019t\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

A black check holder slipped onto the table, crinkled receipt corners peeking out from the lip.<\/p>\n

\u201cHere you go,\u201d the waiter said. \u201cLet me know if you need anything else.\u201d<\/p>\n

The young man gave Demos a long, hovering look before turning back toward the kitchen.<\/p>\n

\u201cI got it,\u201d Demos said before his friend could offer to pay. The holder cracked open, revealing a handwritten check with blue, looping pen script.<\/p>\n

Ferris tilted his head, trying to get a better angle on the writing. \u201cWhy is there a phone number on there?\u201d<\/p>\n

Whatever was written on the check, it certainly looked like a seven-digit phone number. It was enclosed in a heart.<\/p>\n

Demos shrugged. \u201cIt happens.\u201d<\/p>\n

It took Ferris a moment to calculate what \u2018it<\/i>\u2019 was and what exactly was \u2018happening<\/i>\u2019 here. It seemed that whatever had just occurred was a phenomenon Ferris had not yet experienced \u2014 and probably never would. His gaze followed the receipt-slash-love-note as Demos folded it, skinny fingers sliding it into his pocket. Ferris looked away.<\/p>\n

A handful of bills were tucked between the salt and pepper shakers, an apology for the scattered sugar packets and coffee smudges they had left behind. The cold air outside hit them like a wall, numbing fingers and cheeks within seconds.<\/p>\n

The street was covered in noise \u2014 tires on slush, the hum of pedestrians and distant car horns. The sound of crumpling paper was barely loud enough to catch Ferris\u2019 attention. He looked just in time to see Demos cast the balled-up diner check into a curbside trash can.<\/p>\n

Ferris shot him a look.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d Demos stuffed both hands into his coat pockets. \u201cI didn\u2019t want to toss it in front of him. I\u2019m not an asshole<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, but\u2014\u201c Ferris\u2019 eyes went back to the sidewalk, his accusatory stare easing into a smile. \u201cYou really are.\u201d<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

There was only one more stop Ferris had to make that day. It had been months since he\u2019d last seen the clinic that Will used to run. That afternoon had gone by so quickly \u2014 the gunshot, the little spots of blood on the floor. Demos\u2019 voice was muddy in his memory.<\/p>\n

\u2018I like you the way you are.\u2019<\/i><\/p>\n

What a strange thing to say.<\/p>\n

Ferris was waiting in the alley, wringing his hands together against the cold. The leather folio he\u2019d brought was pinched between his arm and his body, its contents tucked neatly inside. It was rare that he went on dubious errands like this without his friend, but Demos seemed to annoy Nadia. Demos seemed to annoy a lot of people. There was someone much better suited for this task, and that someone was about to be late.<\/p>\n

Just as Ferris glanced at his phone for the time, a small black sports car pulled up along the curb. The engine cut and a car door opened, followed by the sound of heels on pavement.<\/p>\n

He gave her a nod as she approached the back door. \u201cGina.\u201d<\/p>\n

She returned the nod, saying nothing as she let herself into the dingy building. Ferris caught the door before it could shut behind her, following two steps behind.<\/p>\n

He hadn\u2019t brought her along for the fun of it. Though she wasn\u2019t officially ingrained in the family business, Gina excelled at collecting information and using it to their advantage. She did not excel in common courtesies, such as holding doors open for other people.<\/p>\n

A small family had taken up residence in the waiting area \u2014 an elderly woman and at least two generations of children. They spoke in hushed Portuguese, paying no mind to the two who had just entered. That was right \u2014 the clinic had other patients. Though the Giorgettis had funded the real estate, they were by no means injured often enough to keep an entire business running. Anyone who needed to see a doctor without pesky regulations, insurance, and paperwork might eventually find themselves here.<\/p>\n

It was a moment before Nadia emerged from a back room, drying her hands with a small towel.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I help\u2014\u201c Her eyes fell on Ferris. \u201cOh. It\u2019s you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s me.\u201d<\/p>\n

She glanced over at the woman beside him. \u201cAnd who is this?\u201d<\/p>\n

Gina offered her hand. \u201cGina. We\u2019d like to talk, if you have a moment.\u201d<\/p>\n

Oh \u2014 so she did have common courtesy. She just didn\u2019t waste it on Ferris. Nadia eyed the newcomer for a moment before taking the offered hand. Their handshake was fixed with intention, as if the two were judging one another through their very fingers and palms.<\/p>\n

Nadia\u2019s attention fell to the family on the sofa. \u201cUm momento, por favor.\u201d<\/p>\n

Just as Ferris began to wonder just how many languages this woman spoke, Nadia nodded toward a back room. They followed her down the hallway to a small office that seemed to have once been a storage closet. There were still boxes of supplies against one wall and an old wooden desk against another. Rows of wall-mounted utility shelves were lined with medical books, all in various states of wear-and-tear.<\/p>\n

Nadia leaned against the desk, eyes drifting between her guests before she spoke.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m guessing you\u2019re not here for a stomachache,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood guess.\u201d Ferris opened the folio he\u2019d brought, picking through the documents. \u201cWe looked into you.\u201d<\/p>\n

The temperature of Nadia\u2019s expression dropped to zero. \u201cExcuse me?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris didn\u2019t falter. \u201cI was under the impression you wanted to continue working here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI do. I just don\u2019t know if it will be for you. I\u2019m only here because of Will. Now\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

Gina\u2019s voice cut the thought \u2014 a machete through fog.<\/p>\n

\u201cDr. Mendoza was your mentor at Southport University. When he lost his license, you followed him. You could easily have finished your residency, but you left anyway. Now you\u2019re running a back alley clinic on your own.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThis clinic isn\u2019t legal.\u201d Ferris adjusted his glasses, trying to see past the glare. \u201cAnd neither are you.\u201d<\/p>\n

At this, Nadia closed her eyes. Her chest rose and fell with a slow breath, fingers tightening on the rim of the desk.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was,\u201d Nadia said. \u201cWhen I was in school, I had a student visa. The hospital was going to sponsor me, but\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

She opened her eyes, her lips set in a distant frown.<\/p>\n

\u201cWill told me not to go with him. I didn\u2019t listen\u2014 I didn\u2019t care.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris watched her for a moment. With one hand, he balanced the folio, using the other to free a few crisp documents. With a turn of his wrist, he offered the papers.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe have a front company,\u201d he said. \u201cWell, a few. But this one is a non-profit \u2014 The Linden Foundation. Researches chronic lyme disease.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s not a thing,\u201d Nadia said. She eyed him before taking the documents. Her fingers picked through the pages, skimming the job description and offer letter.<\/p>\n

Gina waved a hand. \u201cWe\u2019re aware. But the Linden Foundation needs a program coordinator, and they\u2019re sponsoring work permits. The position is yours, if you desire it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nadia\u2019s frown hadn\u2019t budged. She eyed the letterhead, her eyes trailing over the agreement before falling on the salary. She peered at Ferris, unconvinced.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s no guarantee this will grant me a visa.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe have someone over at the USCIS. I\u2019d say your chances are promising.\u201d This wasn\u2019t a complete lie, but saying \u2018I have a friend named Emily who goes to law school with another friend who has a sister at the United States Citizenship and Immigration Services who is totally down with cash bribes.\u2019 <\/i>was too much of a mouthful.<\/p>\n

Nadia clapped the papers down onto the desk with a hard breath.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou idiots want me to take a fake job at a fake company so I can continue running your fake clinic?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris shrugged. \u201cPretty much, yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd if I say no?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen we part ways,\u201d Gina said.<\/p>\n

Ferris and Gina fell silent, giving the woman time to think. If Nadia was going through a variety of emotions, she was certainly good at hiding it. She stared at the stack of papers on the desk, her face blank \u2014 unreadable. The overhead light flickered once, the bulb buzzing in its socket.<\/p>\n

An entire minute passed before Nadia looked up, her stare locked on Ferris. She wasn\u2019t blinking.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you know who killed Will?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cEnd them,\u201d Nadia said. \u201cAnd I\u2019ll do it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIn that order?\u201d Gina said.<\/p>\n

\u201cSwear you\u2019ll do it, and I\u2019ll start today.\u201d<\/p>\n

The look Ferris and Gina exchanged was brief. Neither of them were cold-blooded killers, but there were ways of granting such wishes.<\/p>\n

Gina shook the woman\u2019s hand once more, this time more brief \u2014 more resolute.<\/p>\n

\u201cDeal,\u201d Gina said.<\/p>\n

Ferris closed the folio, tucking it back under his arm. He had half-expected Nadia to laugh in their faces, so this had gone better than it could have. It was hard to put a price on having a doctor on call \u2014 one that had no obligation to report unsavory injuries like gunshot wounds to a higher authority. Will had not been easy to find.<\/p>\n

Even so, he couldn\u2019t relax yet. This wasn\u2019t over.<\/p>\n

Somebody was going to have to kill Aldo.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Illustration by Eyugho \u201cYou know in Europe it\u2019s illegal to call this Parmesan?\u201d Demos was slouched in a diner seat, one hand propping up his chin and the other clutching the offensive cheese shaker. Ferris sipped his coffee. \u201cYou don\u2019t say.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-540","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-02"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-8I","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/540","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=540"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/540\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":833,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/540\/revisions\/833"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=540"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=540"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=540"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}