a way to see her baby again. Not so she could steal him away and raise him herself, though she had become more financially stable. Rather, to reassure herself she had done the right thing, to quiet the horrible, aching sense of loss that occasionally gripped her.
Against Sal’s better judgment, he had given in to her repeated appeals for assistance and helped her to get the name and address of Jimmy’s family by paying off the right people at the adoption agency. His caveat had been she could never contact the family or Jimmy. She had agreed, but with her fingers crossed behind her back. She had no intention of directly interfering with the family. But someday she would like to anonymously give him something, a small endowment, as proof of her undying love for him, her baby, the one person she valued above everything else in this world.
In the meantime, she had spent her mornings off shadowing the building where her son lived, learning the family’s habits. When the nanny had begun taking her little charge to the nearby park every Tuesday and Thursday morning, Vi’s schedule became cemented. Faithfully, every week for the past year, she had come to quietly watch the small miracle she had created grow and flourish.
As Jimmy ran by, his high-pitched voice filled with the innocent joyousness of youth, Vi’s heart melted. The dappled sunlight brought out the red highlights in his russet hair that was so like her own—at least when hers wasn’t bleached. The brown eyes were his father’s, but she would never hold that against her son. Jimmy was nothing short of a marvel, a glimmer of perfection in her otherwise screwed-up life.
The familiar, bittersweet dream gripped her, of Jimmy running up to her instead of the nanny, his eyes bright with intelligence and wonder as he proudly showed her whatever treasure he had found in the grass—or grabbing her hand and towing her over to the swings so she could push him.
Oh, how she loved him. She would do anything for him. Absolutely anything. Even tear herself in two so he would have the chance to live a life far above what she had to offer. So far above that her sins would never touch him.
“He’s a handsome boy.”
Startled, she stiffened as Sal sank wearily onto the bench beside her. “Sal? What are you doing here?”
She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him outside the shadowy confines of the club.
“A better question would be what are you doing here?” he rasped, his voice rough from a lifetime of cigarettes. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, his hands loosely steepled as he watched the children. “You do know the police are out looking for you, yes?”
“I beg your pardon?” The stifling heat of the morning disappeared beneath a wash of ice. “Sal, that’s nothing to joke about!”
His sad, dark eyes gave her a sidelong glance from behind his wire-rimmed spectacles. “Would I joke about something like that? To you, who I love like my own flesh and blood?”
“Yes, actually. If you thought it would get you something.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Remember when you said they’d caught the snake that had escaped during Howie’s act, and I found it later, curled up in my red costume?”
He shrugged. “You were upset, and I needed you onstage.”
“Exactly. So what’s the angle this time? You want me to tame down my act?” Though she couldn’t imagine why or what statute she had broken. Everything that needed covering had been.
Sal didn’t answer. Instead, he studied the children on the playground, his lips set in a grim line. Her heart pounded as the seconds passed, her dread building with the realization he might not have been kidding.
“Rumor has it you were with Tony Vecchione last night,” he said, “a rumor I find hard to believe since I know how you feel about his . . . business.”
“We did go to his house to discuss my . . . my future, I suppose you could say. So, yes. I was with him for a while, but not long.” Fear pooled in her stomach like lead. “Don’t tell me the Feds saw us? God damn it. Now they think I’m his moll, don’t they?”
“Was anyone else there with you?” Sal’s expression was unusually grave.
“No, why?” she asked, confused now. She could have sworn Tony would be knocked out for several hours, but had he recovered enough to do someone in