Page 40 of Five Survive

“—It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Oliver cut across her. “This is about our mom.”

Now Reynawaslooking at him. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“This must be about her case. The Frank Gotti case.”

“What’s that?” Arthur said.

“Our mom is assistant DA, and she’s the lead prosecutor on an upcoming homicide case.”

“In the Mafia,” Simon said, gesturing with his beer bottle. Wait, where did he get a beer from?

“Yeah, exactly.” Oliver snapped his fingers at him. “This whole thing seems exactly like something they’d pull.”

“Why? What’s the case?” Arthur made the mistake of asking him.

Could Red really stand to listen to this one more time? Oliver glanced at her and she kept her face straight.

“So, about a year ago,” he began, leaning back on the table, “the boss of the organized crime group—”

“The Mafia,” Simon offered.

“Yes, the Mafia.” Oliver’s jaw tightened, clearly irritated at the interruption. “The boss of the family, a man called John D’Amico, died of throat cancer in the hospital last year. He left behind a bit of a power vacuum, with three members of the family vying for the top job to replace him.”

Yep, Red thought, first up was—

“Tommy D’Amico,” Oliver said, holding up one finger. “John’s oldest son.”

Number two:

“Joseph Mannino, who had been John’s underboss, which is a second-in-command-type thing.”

And finally:

“Francesco Gotti, who had been John’s consigliere, which is like the top adviser role.”

Oliver tucked away his three upheld fingers, and Frank Gotti was the one who flashed into Red’s mind, that photo of his face she’d seen and seen again, one dark curl of hair falling down to cover his left eye.

“The three of them split the family into factions, as it were,” Oliver continued, glancing around to make sure they were all listening. “There was fighting but no one got seriously hurt. Not until last August, when Frank Gotti killed Joseph Mannino himself. Shot twice in the back of the head. And my mom—our mom—is the one who’s prosecuting Frank. The trial is in a few weeks and she’s going to get a guilty conviction. We know it. They clearly know it.”

Arthur looked down, eyes flickering back and forth like he was sifting through everything Oliver just said.

“So you think this”—he gestured around at the RV, at the wide-open nothing outside the blocked-up windows—“us being here, that sniper out there, is about that murder case?”

“Yes, that’s clearly what’s going on,” Oliver replied, his eyes unfaltering. “This is all about my mom. They’re trying to get to her. And they are using me and Maddy to do it.”

“You mean, like, holding us for ransom?” Maddy said, uncertain.

“In a way.” Oliver nodded. “They’ve probably already contacted her, told her they are holding us hostage somewhere.”

“But why?” Reyna chimed in now. “What would they want fromher?”

“If they go to trial, Mom is going to put Frank in prison for the restof his life. They can’t let that happen; he’s their leader. Well, to some of them. They are probably demanding she find a way to drop the charges to stop the case going to trial. Or…” He trailed off.

“Or they’ll k-kill us,” Maddy finished it, stumbling over the word.

Oliver didn’t say anything, but his silence was answer enough, the static from the walkie-talkie filling in for him. “And, now that I’m thinking it through, maybe this secret he’s talking about, the secret he wants…maybe it’s the identity of the eyewitness. The one the whole case rests on. And they want Mom to give it to them.”

“So they can kill the witness and stop the trial?” Reyna asked, eyes narrowing, a knot of lines forming across her forehead. Red looked to Oliver, waiting for the answer.