Maybe it was the time of year, or the wedding scene I'd just left, but there was something unnerving about the way she'd been left. Do you understand? I think so, I'm going to need an alibi to explain how I just happened to find the next murder victim when they've got people patrolling all the clubs. The trouble was, I wasn't exactly clear on what I would be apologizing for. If I hadn't known anything about Primo and what had gone on before, I'd have learned something just by watching the other men refuse to help him.
He trusted me not to lie, not to make it worse than it was, or better than it was, but to tell the truth. A tiny part of me that I'd never admit to out loud was sad about that. I had to be able to do it. His face was dark and frowning with his rage.
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