She nodded. “I entrusted you to Sara Duncan’s care.”
“You gave me to Sara Duncan?”
“She was a good person, Lexington. And she needed the kind of money that Tony and I could give her to do this for us.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. This woman was trying to tell him that he—a federal law enforcement agent—was the son of one of the most notorious and violent gangsters in the country? That she was his mother?
Right about now, he needed a drink. No, he needed to get blind freaking inebriated. He needed to smash something. Disbelief, anger—he couldn’t even articulate what—was building like a Molotov cocktail inside him. But he remained rooted to the spot. It was like watching a train wreck, the train wreck of his life, and he couldn’t tear himself away.
“Tony Ciccone is—”
“Your father.”
He swore. Violently.
“Lexington, I know this must—”
He held up both hands, palms out, keeping her at bay, not wanting to hear more, yet compelled to stay and hear it all. “Just…just give me the facts, keep it simple.”
She had the audacity to look hurt. “Tony went ballistic when he found out I refused to terminate my pregnancy. He had a terrible temper, and he was convinced Frank would tear him apart limb by limb with his bare hands. I was afraid of Frank, too. As much as I love him, he can be a fearful man when crossed. But I do love him, above all else—”
“Please, Mrs. Epstein.” Lex couldn’t even call her by her first name now. “The facts.”
“We paid Sara handsomely to take you as a newborn and to register you as her own child in Reno. She feigned pregnancy while I was away on tour, making herself look progressively advanced. It was a policy of Frank’s that no visibly pregnant women could work his casino floor, and Sara caused a scene over it, as we had planned, and got herself fired. She then left for Reno, where we delivered the baby to her.”
“The baby,” he said, almost inaudibly.
“You.”
“And then?”
“And then Sara had enough money to buy herself a house and to raise you on her own. We continued to pay her a monthly stipend, cash, organized by Tony. Non-traceable, of course.”
Apart from the pale-blue Cadillac that came like clockwork to their house. “Who brought her the cash each month?”
“Jackie Winston, a man in Tony’s employ.”
“Did this Jackie Winston work for Frank Epstein as well as run personal errands for Tony Ciccone?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Yes, he did work for Frank, but Tony put Jackie on a separate payroll as well. Frank didn’t know this. You see, Tony was trying to coax several of Frank’s men over to his side at that time. Frank and Tony were in a battle over…certain things in their…business relationship.”
That would explain the frontline logo on Winston’s blue Cadillac. “Do you know who killed my mother, Mrs. Epstein?” He couldn’t not think of Sara as his mother. As far as Lex was concerned, she was the beautiful young woman who had held him, loved him, laughed with him, praised him when he came home from school with good marks. Made his lunches, found Mr. Teddy when his bear got lost…held him tight when he was sad. He didn’t give a rat’s ass what anyone said—Sara Duncan was his mom. And no one was his father. Not as far as he was concerned.
“I don’t know who killed her, Lex,” she almost whispered. Fear, or some other emotion darkening her eyes and blanching her skin.
“Don’t lie to me. Not now.”
“All I can tell you, Lexington, is that it was one of Tony’s henchmen who did it, one who routinely handled Tony’s dirty—or as he called it—wet work.”
The one with a raspy voice who was inside this casino hotel this very minute. Still alive and kicking while his mother had been stone-cold dead for thirty years.
She inhaled shakily. “The first I heard of Sara’s death was when I opened the newspapers the morning after she was killed. I called Tony right away. As I mentioned, this was at a time when Frank and Tony were having a very serious falling out. Frank was insisting Tony return to Chicago, and Tony was refusing. It made for some very bad blood. Frank, however, had the upper hand…it’s a long story, but Tony figured he was going to get leverage by sending someone to kidnap you, and he was going to hold you—and me—ransom to get me to twist Frank’s arm. He said if I failed to change Frank’s mind, he was going to deliver the kid—you—to Frank in person. You were going to be the living flesh and blood proof of my infidelity and how I’d cheated him all those years.”