No Stone Unturned: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eleven Page 10

  Perhaps finally understanding that his station or intimidation would have no effect, Lazo waved at a chair. “Please have a seat. Let’s start over.”

  Slash considered a moment before setting his duffel next to the chair and sitting. Lazo took the chair across from him, leaning back and crossing his legs. He noticed at once his chair was slightly lower than Lazo’s, certainly not an oversight. However, instead of projecting the intended authority and dominance, it signaled blatant insecurity. That meant Lazo needed something and wasn’t sure he had enough power to force Slash’s compliance.

  “Thank you for coming,” the cardinal finally said. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I invited you here.”

  Anger leapt and simmered. The audacity and arrogance of the man was astounding. “Sending unsigned, threatening notes and packages, blocking my brother’s request for marriage in the church, and providing an unusual display of fireworks on my front lawn can hardly be considered an invitation,” he finally said. “An email or a phone call would have sufficed.”

  Amusement crossed the cardinal’s face, as if he were delighted by his imagined cleverness. “Oh, I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about. I simply heard you’d arrived in town, so I asked Father Koenhein to find you and request a meeting.”

  Slash had to fight the urge to wipe the smirk off of the cardinal’s face. It wasn’t easy. “Don’t waste my time pretending ignorance. What’s so urgent that it requires my physical presence?”

  “It’s really quite a simple matter, but it’s delicate, and not something that can be discussed over the phone. I’m fortunate you happen to be in Rome to discuss this in person with me.”

  The fingers on one hand curled into a fist, but he deliberately opened them and wrapped them around the bottled water instead. Breathe in, breathe out. Invite the calm. Lazo had to play his cards, and Slash had to wait for them.

  “So, discuss, Cardinal.” He hoped his voice sounded like he couldn’t care less, instead of wishing he could plow his fist through Lazo’s self-serving grin.

  Probably believing he had him on the hook, Lazo leaned forward eagerly. “I have a special and quite important request for you.”

  “Which is?”

  “I want you to publicly acknowledge your biological father.”

  For a second, Slash couldn’t breathe.

  His biological father?

  Surprise, anger and disbelief coursed through him in a tangled rush. He knew his background was a source of interest to many at the Vatican. There had been plenty of people who’d assumed he had special connections that had helped catapult him to the highest echelons in such a short period of time. But he knew differently. It was skill, not heritage, that propelled him upward. He’d earned every damn thing he’d ever received. So, why did Lazo want him to reveal his parentage now, and how did it fit into his grand scheme?

  When he felt in control of his emotions, he spoke. “Why do you care who my father is?”

  “Why?” The cardinal lifted his hands. “Oh, my child. Because it’s quite important to the church, of course.”

  Slash didn’t believe that for a minute. Everything the cardinal said and did served only one purpose—his own positioning for the papacy. But he pressed on, needing more information. “How exactly does my so-called acknowledgment of my father assist you or the church?”

  “It will help me take the church in a new direction.”

  “What’s wrong with the direction it’s going in now?”

  The cardinal pressed his fingers together as he studied Slash. “I’m afraid it’s moving too far away from traditional values. I intend to bring us back.”

  It was such an absurd statement, he laughed. “To the Dark Ages?”

  Cardinal Lazo was not a man used to being mocked, which made it all the more pleasant to watch him seethe. “I would advise caution, my son. You and your loved ones are more vulnerable than you think.”

  Mention of his family made his response all the more ominous. Slash leaned forward, making sure he crossed into the cardinal’s personal space. “Was that a threat, Your Eminence?”

  “Of course not.” The cardinal pressed a hand to his chest in mock disbelief that Slash had suggested such a thing. But he also moved back a bit in his seat, indicating Slash’s message had been received. “It was a promise. I have asked you for a simple request in the name of the church. That’s all. After all, an exposed truth must stand on its own merits.”

  Move and countermove. He had to make his next step carefully. “Well, if you want me to acknowledge my father, I’m afraid you’re going to have to tell me who is he is.”

  “Really?” The cardinal regarded him with interest. “You want to play it this way? Come now. You’ve always known, haven’t you? You’ve been his secret for far too long.”

  Time to signal an end to the conversation. Slash stood, reaching for his duffel. “We’re done here. I’m not playing your game anymore. Take me out of the equation.”

  “Father Emilio Armando,” Lazo spat out, watching Slash for any hint of reaction.

  Slash almost laughed, but caught himself. He’d suspected, but now he knew. That was endgame. Father Armando had become Lazo’s greatest threat to the papacy, and Lazo was looking for a way to neutralize or even remove him from contention. Father Armando was close to the current pope, was popular and widely viewed as a priest of the people, and was rapidly becoming known as the conscience of the church for his forward-thinking social initiatives and work with the poor and disenfranchised. No wonder Lazo was worried.

  So, Lazo’s goal was to use Slash against Father Armando. But Lazo wasn’t stupid. He knew Slash would never willingly agree to do something like this unless he had irrefutable proof of parentage or a way of extracting Slash’s cooperation. Now, he just had to figure out which one it was.

  He turned around slowly and regarded the cardinal. “Emilio Armando is my father? Says who?”

  “Says me. And says you.”

  He seemed unusually confident Slash would agree, which made him wary. He hadn’t lied to Lazo. He had no idea who his biological parents were. He’d often wondered, and sometimes wished he knew, but he hadn’t ever really considered Father Armando a contender for his father. Too many things didn’t make sense with that scenario. Regardless, he hated that it had been Lazo to shove that possibility front and center.

  Lazo suddenly laughed. “Wait. He didn’t tell you? Well, this is certainly an interesting development. I’d assumed he had. After all, you’ve maintained a close relationship all these years.”

  Slash masked the disgust, but couldn’t keep the derision from his voice. “We’re close friends, so now you assume he’s my father?”

  “Not assume. Know. I have evidence.”

  Now came the moment of truth. Would it be blackmail or proof? His stomach clenched, but he responded calmly. “Such as?”

  “I’m afraid I cannot reveal that. Sanctity of the confessional and all that, of course.” Lazo couldn’t quite keep the smirk from his face.

  Anger coiled even tighter in Slash’s gut, but he kept his expression neutral as he needled for more information. “Come now, Cardinal. Did you really expect me to play your little game? You summon me to Italy by threatening my family, then insist I make a statement about Father Armando being my biological father? Apparently you haven’t read enough of my file. It isn’t wise to piss me off.”

  Lazo’s nostrils flared. “I know exactly who you are. You are a man without conscience, without regret. You want people to think you’ve turned your life around, but I know better. Men like you are irredeemable. So, I’d suggest you carefully consider how you answer me. I’m a powerful man with a long reach. You help me, your family stays protected. Cross me, and I promise nothing.”

  So, there it was—blackmail. Cold and ugly. Slash leaned forward, his tone matching the cardinal’s. “
Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Cardinal. Stay away from my family. You get one warning, and that’s only as a professional courtesy. You touch them, any of them, and you’ll never see me coming.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that.” Fury rolled off Lazo, but not fear. He still believed himself to be untouchable. “Are you aware of who I am?”

  “A man who is so weak he has to resort to blackmailing former Vatican employees.”

  “Oh, please.” Lazo waved a hand dismissively. “You think I care about your insults? We both know I’m going to be the next pope. The question is whose side will you choose? I will do whatever it takes to protect the church from this destructive path the current pope is leading us down, so I advise you to consider your words carefully. I’m in a position to help you in ways you can’t imagine. And all I need from you is a simple acknowledgment that he’s your father.”

  “Or what? You come after me and my family?”

  Lazo spread his hands in a gesture of pretend noncommittal. “Or things from your past, including the Congo, may inadvertently come to light. Things that could change your life for the worse.”

  There it was. Lazo thought he held an ace in the hole with the Congo operation. While it wasn’t an ace, it was still a high card, and Slash had to be careful how he handled this. Without knowing exactly how much Lazo knew about the operation, the safest way to play was to assume he knew it all.

  “I thought you wanted to protect the church,” he finally said.

  “I do, and I will.”

  “Revealing the details of that operation would help the church exactly how?” He paused, curious how Lazo would respond. “We both know I was acting as an agent of the church.”

  “Were you?” He paused, steepling his fingers together. “I hope you’re confident the documents will back you up on that. After all, a renegade operative is a serious danger to the church and to society. If there were an unfortunate leak about that operation that portrayed you in a bad light, it could cost you your new job at the NSA. Or perhaps adversely affect your newfound love with your talented fiancée. Congratulations on your engagement, by the way. The church approves...so far. You do like your life as it is now, don’t you... Viper?”

  So Lazo had read his file and wasn’t just repeating rumors about the Congo mission. The use of his code name confirmed it. Still, he didn’t want Lazo to know he was concerned.

  He lifted the water to his lips and finished it off. As he screwed the lid back on the empty bottle, he permitted himself a small smile. “You’re more worried than I thought. Good. Deal not accepted. I’m not going to lie for you or for anyone.”

  The cardinal’s eyes were chillingly cold. “Ah, but we both know I’m not asking you to lie. As a man of the cloth, such a request would be abhorrent to me. I’m simply asking you to tell the truth.”

  “You already know my truth.”

  Lazo’s hands clenched tighter around his water bottle. “I suggest you reconsider. You will lose this battle, and in the process, it will cost you everything you hold dear. Is it really worth it? Can you handle the trouble coming your way?”

  Slash stood and took the position of power, leaning forward until his face was inches from the cardinal’s. “You misunderstand me, Cardinal. I am the trouble, the variable you can’t control. You’ve no idea what you’ve unleashed here.”

  Surprise and perhaps fear—finally—flashed in the cardinal’s eyes, but he quickly composed himself. “I’ll give you a couple of days to think it over. You have a lot to lose. When I say I will go to extraordinary lengths to ensure the future of the church, I mean it. Consider that carefully when you’re deciding.” He saw the empty bottle in Slash’s hand and dipped his head to the side of the room. “The trash can is over there.”

  Slash stuck the empty bottle in his duffel instead. “You’ve made a significant miscalculation, Cardinal. It wasn’t a wise move to poke the snake.”

  “Oppose me and I will crush you,” Lazo warned in a low voice, abandoning all pretense of civility. “Don’t make a mistake here, son.”

  “I assure you, I won’t make a mistake.” Slash lifted the strap of his bag to his shoulder and turned to face the cardinal for one last comment. “If you were a true man of the cloth, you’d concede the future of the church is not up to you, but to a higher power. I’m going to give you one final piece of advice before I leave. If you try to play God, you’re going to burn. And I’ll be the one to personally see to it.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lexi

  “Wait. What? Slash was a priest?” Basia said. “I never knew that.”

  Gray, Basia and I sat, transfixed by the enlarged image of Slash dressed as a priest. My brain had somehow frozen on the photo and couldn’t move on from it. I wanted to reach out and turn off the monitor, but I couldn’t seem to move or feel anything except the uncomfortable churning of my stomach.

  “Lexi, do you know if Slash was ever a priest?” Gray asked gently.

  I blinked, trying to bring my thoughts back to the present. It felt weird having my friends revealing things I didn’t know about a man I was going to marry. It was completely backward. I should be the one knowing important things about the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with, but I didn’t.

  “I’m...not sure of anything right now.” Anxiety had started to interfere with my thinking. I mentally ran through a couple of rows of Fermat’s Last Theorem to calm myself. “You said this picture was taken on September 17th? The same day of Apeloko’s assassination?”

  “Yes.” Gray looked at me with sympathetic eyes.

  That look was almost more than I could stand. I pressed my lips together and kept my mind solely on the facts.

  “That would mean Slash was likely in residence when the assassination happened,” I said.

  “That’s a reasonable assumption,” said Gray.

  “And they never caught who poisoned Apeloko, his son and the priest, right?” Basia asked.

  “Correct,” Gray answered. “The murders remain unsolved to this day.”

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t like where my thoughts were headed, but I needed more data. “What else do we know about the assassination?”

  Gray reached around the laptop for an empty wineglass. “Can I have some of that Malbec first? I could use a drink after all.”

  “I think we all could use a refill,” Basia said.

  We held out our glasses, and Basia poured the wine.

  “Better,” Gray said after a few sips. “So, we know the Catholic Church was in the Congo acting as an intermediary in political negotiations, promoting peace between the various factions. Lexi, do you know if Slash was working for the Vatican in any capacity when he lived in Italy?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “He was working for the Vatican, but I don’t know exactly what he did.”

  That was the truth. Sort of. Only a few people knew about Slash’s top-secret connection to the Vatican’s intelligence service, the sodalitium pianum. But that wasn’t my secret to share, so I didn’t provide details.

  Basia hopped off her stool and came around to put a hand on my shoulder. “Lexi, if you’re worried Slash was involved in the assassination, what does it matter? I mean, this Apeloko guy was a total scumbag. He got what he deserved.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should be shocked or thankful for her words. After considering, I wished she hadn’t said anything. It wasn’t helping.

  “What about the son and the priest?” I asked. “Did they get what they deserved?”

  Gray and Basia fell quiet.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingertips, willing myself to think rationally. I was stressing out, which wasn’t logical since I knew nothing of political assassinations and their ramifications. As a computer geek, I never expected to have to deliberate such weighty thoughts in my lifetime. While I knew and understoo
d intellectually that Slash’s work might involve killing or hurting people, being faced with concrete examples was a different experience altogether.

  “I don’t know, guys,” I finally said. “Despite that photo, I don’t think Slash was ever a priest. At least not officially. He once told me once he’d considered the priesthood, but he felt his talents would be better used elsewhere.”

  “That’s no kidding.” Basia waved a hand. “I mean, how many times have you and he saved the world in the past year?”

  I rolled my eyes at her attempted humor, but I still wasn’t feeling any better.

  “Well, my best guess is that if Slash were working for the Vatican, he was there on an intelligence-gathering mission,” Gray speculated between sips of her wine. “Undercover as a priest, most likely.”

  “Perhaps,” I said. “Is there any way to find out which other priests were there on the night of the assassination?”

  “Not from facial recognition,” Gray said. “Their faces are too obscured. But I can try to pull that thread via different sources.”

  “Thanks, Gray. I’d appreciate it. That would be helpful.” My expression must have worried them because Basia kept her hand on my shoulder and now Gray touched my arm as if in solidarity.

  “Lexi, this happened seven years ago,” Gray said. “A long time before Slash met you. A person can change a lot in seven years.”

  I inclined my head. “I know. You guys don’t have to worry about me. I’ll work this out. I don’t intend to be judgmental of a situation and circumstances I know nothing about. Slash told me he’s done things he never wants to talk about again—not surprising given his line of work. I’m gathering information solely to help him, not to judge him for what he may, or may not, have done.”

  Even as I said that, I couldn’t deny I was worried about my reaction and understanding of the situation and Slash’s role, even if I didn’t intend to be judgmental.

  “We know,” Gray said, setting down her wine. “But suspecting Slash can do such things and knowing he can do such things are two different beasts. I’m saying that because it’s something I’ve had to deal with given Hands’s line of work.”