Read Always Say Goodbye: A Lew Fonesca Mystery for Free Online

sister came back with a tall green and blue ceramic pitcher on a tray surrounded by three tumblers. The pitcher, which Lew had forgotten, had been made by his great-grandfather when he was a boy in Palermo. Seeing it, Lew remembered.
    He wanted to go back to Sarasota. Now.
    “So, after dinner?” Franco asked, holding his beaded glass of sangria.
    “I’ve got some reading to do. And then I need a nap.”
    “Okay,” Franco said.
    “A toast,” Angie said.
    The glass felt moist and cold in Lew’s hand and the almost transparent slice of lemon floating on the wine looked like the reflection of the moon.
    “Great to have you back, Lew,” said Franco, holding up his glass.
    “Find peace,” said Angie.
    They waited for Lew.
    “ Cu a fissa sta a so casa, ” he said.
    It was one of no more than a dozen things Lew could say in Italian. They drank.
    Franco looked puzzled.
    “‘The fool should just stay home,’” Angie translated. “When do you want to eat?”
    “If I sleep more than three hours, wake me up,” Lew said, putting his empty glass on the tray, picking up and chewing on the lemon moon.
    They nodded and Lew went to Teresa’s room, closing the door behind him. He hadn’t remembered his niece’s room, hadn’t remembered how small and neat it was, bed against the wall now covered by a sky-blue blanket covered with soap-bubble
circles, her grandmother’s rocking chair in the corner near the only window, an old walnut teacher’s desk complete with inkwell. A computer keyboard and mouse sat in front of a darkened monitor. Next to the desk stood a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, its shelves shared by books, CDs, DVDs and colorful three-ring notebooks.
    If it weren’t for his search for Catherine’s killer, he would have darkened the room, taken off his shoes, gotten into bed, curled into a ball and slept for a day, a week, forever.
    On the bed was the thick envelope. He was reaching for it when there was a knock at the door.
    “You sleepin’?” asked Franco.
    “Not yet.”
    Franco opened the door. In his left hand was a bag of potato chips. He popped a handful into his mouth. A single orange-red crumb floated to the floor.
    “Lewie, we’re worried about you. Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while you could miss it. You missing it, Lewie?”
    “You got that from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off .”
    “Doesn’t make it wrong. There’s a lot of truth in movies if you really listen.”
    He held out the bag.
    “Instant energy,” he said.
    Lew nodded.
    “Angie’s making dinner. It’ll be ready whenever you want. Want some?”
    Franco held out the bag. Lew took two. Franco stood there chewing and Lew sat there chewing.
    “Okay, so we’re goin’ to find this guy Pappas?”
    “Yes,” Lew said.
    “Say, listen, Angie’s worried about you. We run into
trouble looking, I’ve got guys who’ll be there whenever you give the word. Billy Bavitti, Marty Glickman, Tony Danitori. Guys you know.”
    “Thanks, Franco. If we need them …”
    “You’ll tell me. Want me to leave you what’s left in the bag?”
    Lew took the bag from him and he left. He sat eating potato chip crumbs and looking at the envelope. When the bag held nothing more to search for, he picked up the envelope and opened it, pulling out a stack of reports, leaving salty grease smudges. The unmarked envelope had been dropped off by Milt Holiger who, like Lew, had been an investigator for the Cook County State Attorney’s Office. Catherine had been Milt’s favorite prosecutor. Unlike Lew, Milt was still there. He had done a lot of work for Catherine. Milt and Lew were working friends.
    Lew had called only two people when he decided to come back to Chicago, his sister and Milt, whose help he needed. By giving him what was in the envelope and violating the confidentiality of the State Attorney’s Office, Milt had taken a big chance. He and his wife Ruthie had a son in his second year at Northwestern and