“Of course,” she replied, smiling up at her husband before turning that smile to Ben. “What can I get you, Benny?”

He shook his head, searching for words that would take the sting out of his meaning. “Thanks, but I don’t have time for a drink, Gina. Frankie’s comin’ in tonight. After I talk with Sal, I gotta run some more errands so I can’t stay.”

She nodded understandingly, trying to hide the disappointment and failing miserably. She aimed another smile at her husband, then moved away.

Sal threw out an arm, inviting, “Sit.”

Ben didn’t want to sit. He didn’t want to breathe Sal’s air.

He had no choice.

So he sat, pulled the shades out of his hair and over his eyes to beat back the sun, and trained his gaze on Sal.

“Last place I wanna be,” he said quietly.

At his words, Sal’s mouth got tight. “Do not tell me my Gina let you into our home for you to sit on my goddamned patio and be an ass**le to me.”

“Last place I wanna be ’cause I’m here ‘cause I need you to do somethin’ for Frankie.”

Sal suddenly went still.

He was listening.

Intently.

And Ben did not get that, why Sal and Gina sunk their claws into Frankie before and after Vinnie died. He could get falling in love with her, he did that himself. And these people understood loyalty. But not the healthy kind, which it seemed they gave Frankie.

They had two daughters.

It didn’t make sense.

But he wasn’t there to make sense of it. He was there to do something three months ago he would have told you he’d put a bullet in his own brain before he did it.

But there he was.

“Actually, two things,” Ben went on.

“You gonna tell me what they are?” Sal asked.

“Yeah,” Ben answered. “One, we’re havin’ a birthday thing for Frankie tomorrow night at the pizzeria.”

Sal’s brows shot up.

“You and Gina aren’t invited.”

Sal’s brows lowered and he scowled.

“That is not disrespect,” Ben said low and it was the truth. “Feels like it, but that’s me respectin’ my family and givin’ a good night to my woman. Ma and Pop would not want you there, Frankie would want everyone to have a good time, and knowin’ that they weren’t, it would f**k with her. Last, it would be awkward and I do not want that for Frankie on her birthday. But Frankie will wanna see you so I made reservations at Crickets for a Champagne brunch tomorrow morning,” Ben told him and finished with, “I will not be there.”

Sal nodded slowly. “And the second thing?”

“Guy at Frankie’s work got whacked.”

Sal’s brows shot up again, but Ben didn’t miss that his body also got tight.

Preparing. Like Benny, he knew Frankie was a magnet for drama.

“Whacked?” Sal asked.

“Professional hit, one shot to the head in his home. Nothin’ stolen. Nothin’ even moved. Guy came in, did him, left. He was a doctor who worked on developing drugs for her company. Police have no suspects. Cal’s got a friend who’s a cop in Brownsburg who asked around. Indianapolis Metropolitan PD have no clue why this guy had a hit taken out on him. Nothin’ in his life leads to that kinda retaliation. They’ve been over everything repeatedly. He has a wife, two kids in college, nice house. No gambling. No drug use. Not a big drinker. Kids not f**ked up. Wife all good. Plays golf. Belongs to a club. No shit in his past. No shady friends. Not one f**kin’ thing.”

“And you’re tellin’ me this because…?” Sal prompted.

“I’m tellin’ you this because Frankie told me the guy bought it, she feels weird about it, and she feels weird about the guy’s boss.”

“Fuck,” Sal muttered.

“Yeah,” Benny agreed, knowing Sal again got him. “Her feelin’ weird can die on the vine or it can flourish, and Frankie bein’ Frankie, I’m wantin’ to nip it in the bud before it flourishes.”

“Tell her to keep out of it,” Sal advised.

“Sorry, thought you knew Francesca Concetti,” Benny replied, and Sal grinned.

“Reckless, that one,” he muttered. “And headstrong.”

“And stubborn and crazy,” Benny added, and Sal’s grin grew into a smile, clearly these being traits Sal admired. The troubling part of that was Ben did too. “Told her that she needed to steer clear. She promised me she’d do that and just do her job. Far’s I know, she’s doin’ that.”

“And you’re here because you want me to make some inquiries, find out who whacked this guy and why.”

That was why he was there.

Asking a favor from Sal.

Fuck.

“That’s why I’m here,” Ben confirmed.

“Consider it done,” Sal replied.

Fuck.

“I give, I take,” Sal went on, barely taking a breath before calling the marker.

Fucking f**k.

Ben stared at him through his shades and said nothing.

Sal did.

“When you two get married, Gina and I are invited.”

Ben’s back straightened and he leaned toward Sal, starting, “Sal—”

Sal shook his head, lifted a hand, and dropped it. “Not the reception. We’ll sit in the back of the church. But I’ll wanna see my Frankie happy. I’ll wanna give that to my Gina. And I am not unaware you do not like me much, Benny Bianchi, but I still wanna see you happy. So does Gina. You give that to us, I’ll find out everything there is to know about what’s goin’ on in Indy.”

“That seems too easy,” Ben noted suspiciously.

“That’s because what I do in Indy isn’t for you. It’s for Frankie. But she didn’t ask for it, you asked for it, so you pay.”

He got that and he could pay that marker without too much headache.

Except one thing.

“My parents don’t see you,” Benny stated, and Sal’s face went hard.

“I’m not gonna slink into a church like a snake and Gina’s not doin’ that shit either.”

“I don’t care how you walk in,” Benny returned. “You just do it so my parents don’t see you.”

Sal held his eyes before he jerked up his chin.

Assent.

They had a deal.

Christ.

“Then we’re done,” Ben ended it, and Sal’s face changed in a way Benny did not get, even when he did.