The smirk left Taviano’s face. “Emme, you know I was damn well kidding.”
“And watch your language,” Francesca said. “You’re not talking that way around the baby.” She leaned toward Stefano.
Instantly he put his hand on the little bump showing at her belly. “We’re going to do it this time,” he said. “Francesca is resting, just as the doctor wants. We walk several times a day, but only for a few minutes. The rest of the time, she has to have her feet up.”
Taviano sat up straighter. “What were you doing helping to make breakfast? Stefano, that’s not resting. She shouldn’t be in the kitchen.”
“I love the kitchen,” Francesca said. “I’m not on bed rest. Just light stuff.”
“The doc comes out to see her three times a week,” Stefano said. “I agreed to abide by his rules. He said she wasn’t on bed rest, so . . .” He shrugged.
Giovanni nudged Sasha with his shoulder and then grinned at her. “He can be bribed, Stefano, you ever think of that?”
Sasha kicked him under the table. “Try doing that, and I’ll get Emme to help me plot revenge. She’s already working up a plan to carry out against Taviano. It wouldn’t take much to include you.”
Another round of laughter went up. When it faded, Stefano turned his attention to Vittorio. “Tell us whatever you’ve got.”
Vittorio knew Rosina had copied Stefano on everything. As head of the family he was privy to anything that affected any or all family members. His word was law. He listened to the others, but in the end, it was up to him to make decisions. They were used to Stefano as head of the household. It had been Stefano providing any positive attention they’d had as young children.
“Her name is Grace Murphy. She’s twenty-three. Was raised in the foster care system. She was one of the lucky ones at first. The family she was with wanted to keep her, but an accident took the father, and the mother turned to alcohol. The adoption fell through and Grace was moved to a series of homes.”
He kept his voice even. Calm. That was his way. He didn’t react to things, not even when examining his woman’s past and the things she’d been through as a child.
“When she was thirteen she landed in the same home with Haydon Phillips. That particular home was run by a very abusive couple, Owen and Becca Mueller. They had one biological son, Dwayne. They did everything from beatings to withholding food. Haydon took the brunt of the punishments and has the scars to prove it, although there are photographs of Grace’s body showing burn marks on her.”
Emme put her hand on Vittorio’s arm. He was still inside, refusing to allow any negative energy to emerge. Vittorio practiced discipline at all times. This was one of those times when he needed to stay very calm. Deep inside, the volcano that could emerge was at a boiling point. Rosina had sent the photographs they’d used to convict the couple before moving both Grace and Haydon, but it was far too late by the time the investigation had been taken seriously and horrendous things had continued to happen.
“Neighbors had complained. It had taken months before anyone acted. Four visits from the police. Another six from a social worker. The investigation came to a screeching halt when Dwayne was tortured and murdered, his body found several miles away from the home in a ditch along the high-way. The investigation turned into a murder investigation, with Owen as prime suspect, but he was cleared.”
“Were they at least removed?” Sasha asked.
Vittorio shook his head. “It was almost as if all the allegations brought against the couple just disappeared. Maybe the social worker felt sorry for them or had too much work. In any case, they were left there another four months and one night, Owen got drunk. That was a common occurrence, according to the neighbors. His wife locked him out of the house, another common occurrence. He went to sleep in the garage and decided to work on his car. It fell on him and crushed his lower extremities. He lay on the cement with the car on top of him all night before Becca discovered him the next morning. He’s in a wheelchair and can’t function very well.”
“Sometimes justice can be found in strange ways,” Taviano said, and held up his glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice.
The others followed suit, Sasha with a little obvious reluctance. She