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time he helped him…or us in any way. He wanted out of the family and he looked at the NYPD as his way out. As Tony was about to prove by “reaching out” to him, that was much easier said than done.
    “You’ll let me know what he says?” I asked.
    Tony stood up and came over to me. He took my hands and said,
    “Of course,” then he kissed my cheeks again and whispered, “I wish you were my son.”
    I smiled at him, but I was imagining that if he knew what I intended to do…or that I was even thinking about it, he’d appreciate his son the cop.
    ******
                  When I left Tony’s I had Jon drive me to Camilla’s apartment. I was dreading this, although I believed that Lucio wasn’t breaking his wedding vows by sleeping with her, I suspected they were very much in love.
                  As we drove up, I saw two of my soldier’s posted across the street. I’d had them watching her since I found out about Lucio. I would hate for sweet Camilla to get caught in the middle of my war. It was the wars like this one, when you didn’t know who you were fighting and the lives of innocents were at stake that I hated so badly.
    I told Jon I would call him when I was ready. I didn’t know if she’d be okay to leave alone tonight. Once in front of her door I took a deep breath and knocked. She pulled open the door with a smile. The smile faltered when she saw it was me, but was replaced almost as quickly.
    “Sammie! It’s so good to see you, please come in.” I followed her in and looked around. She had taken the crummy little apartment and in the short time she’d lived there, she had turned it into a home. Her decorations swung towards the flower-child era. Camilla always told Lucio and me that she was born too late. She should have been born during the era of “free love.” She wore her blonde hair straight and long. It hung to the tops of her thighs in back and was parted down the middle. I’d never seen her in anything except jeans and t-shirts with political sayings on them. It was just who she was, and her ability to remain true to herself even with all the adversity she’d faced in her life was one of the things I admired most about her.
    I took the seat she offered me, but declined the tea. I did my best to steady my voice as I said,
    “Camilla, I’m so sorry to tell you this…” Her face registered sheer terror and for a second I thought she knew what I was going to tell her. Then she said,
    “Is it Michael? Did he find me?”
    Michael was her ex-husband. She could stand naked in Times Square and they could broadcast it nationwide. Michael would never be able to get to her again. I didn’t tell her that though. Instead I said,
    “No, Camilla. It’s not about Michael. It’s about Lucio, he’s been killed.”
    “What? Oh my God! No!” she screamed and jumped to her feet. Then looking as if she didn’t know what to do with herself she dropped back down into the chair. Then she stood up again. “Who, Sammie? Who would want to hurt Lucio? He was the sweetest man who ever lived. Was it her? His wife?”
    “No, his wife is family,” I told her. By “family,” Camilla knew what I meant. She would know better than to have someone in my crew killed, even if he was her husband. I think it was someone with a beef against me, Camilla. I’m sorry.” Tears were streaming silently down her face. She was pale and for a second I feared she would pass out. She sat down again and then she let her body glide down to the floor as she dissolved into a puddle of tears. I sat down next to her and ran my hand down her hair and pat her back. I didn’t say anything. I knew there was nothing I could say to soften the blow I’d just given her. I let her cry and when she was able to speak again she said,
    “What will I do without him, Sammie? I loved him so much!”
    I knew she didn’t expect me to have an answer for that. I assured her that I would do whatever she needed to help