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“Do you, uh, I mean, is there a way we could make me look less like me?”
“For the Gozo op?”
“Yes, but I have no idea how long we might need to be there. Possibly for some length of time.”
“It could be as simple as cutting and dying your hair, shaving your goatee, and putting in contacts to change your eye color.”
“Would I be unrecognizable?” I asked.
“If you mean to Francesca and Charlene Vella, you most likely would be. You weren’t in direct contact with them, were you?”
“I was not.”
“The things I mentioned would be far easier than wearing a wig, applying makeup, or using prosthetics.”
“What’s this?” asked Zeppelin, setting a cup of tea in front of Verity.
Rather than answer him, she turned to me.
“A disguise for Gozo,” I reluctantly admitted.
He nodded without the slightest sign of a smirk. I wondered if his lack of reaction was for Verity’s benefit. Or perhaps it was due to the one and only time I unleashed my anger on the man who’d been my best friend for years. Was that why he hesitated to poke fun at me? On the other hand, could it be that he recognized something had changed with me, not on the surface, but deep inside, in a place I could never let anyone see? Schön, especially.
“Michelangelo should remain on the Calabrian Syndicate investigation. In fact, I was looking to discuss that very subject with Nemesis,” I added.
Verity appeared lost in thought. “Another option is to grow your beard longer. The shape of your face is distinctive. It will mean coloring it every few days, though. That, and your hair.”
“At his age, he’ll need to learn soon, anyway,” Zep said, nudging me with his elbow.
“Yeah? Do you even know what your natural hair color is?”
He wrapped his arm around Verity and nuzzled her neck. “I don’t, but she does.”
I breathed a sigh of relief on two fronts. First, Zep was giving me shit like he always did. Second, none of it was about Schön.
“Need some backup?” he asked when I thanked Verity and looked around for Nemesis.
“I’ve got it.”
“I’ll come along anyway. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
I nodded, wishing whatever it was could wait. We rounded a corner, and he stopped.
“I want to apologize about the things I said that day.”
That day.When I punched him harder than I had anyone in my life. Not once, but twice.
“I was out of line, and I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
He put his hand on my shoulder. “I get it, you know? Just like you did before Verity and I left for St. Moritz.”
“It isn’t the same.”
His head cocked. “I’ve called you a lot of things over the years, but never before has it been a liar.”
“Zep, come on.”