Chapter 1

“It should run smoother for you now that I adjusted the carburetor.”

“Thank you,” the customer replied, and then he and his wife were off on their excursion through Catania, Sicily.

David Webb used a rag to wipe the grease and gasoline from his hands, wiped his brow, and then prepared two more scooters for rental.

“David, you work too hard and need to relax more. You always seem on edge,” Tessa, his employer, remarked.

Tessa was a buxom, full-bodied woman in her late fifties. She and her husband, Marco, owned a motorcycle and scooter rental service that catered to the year-round tourists visiting Catania.

“Maybe I’m concerned that Mount Etna will soon blow her top,” he smiled.

“When she does, we’ll get lots of warning. You’ve been working for me for six months now, and I rarely see you go out. Surely a handsome man like you must have a girlfriend or two hidden away,” she smiled.

“I did, but she died in a car accident.”

“I’m sad to hear that happened. You’ll meet someone again. If I were twenty years younger and not married, I’d take you on.”

David had to laugh lightly. “You’re more like a mother or older sister to me than a potential lover.”

“Older, you say. I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”

“It is.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t shown much interest in Rita. She’s certainly interested in you.”

“She’s your daughter, and I don’t want to lose my job by doing something I shouldn’t do.”

“I know she’s willing, and I wouldn’t mind having you as my son-in-law.”

“She’d be marrying a man with a dark past and too many ghosts. There are parts of my life that I’m not proud of and that may come back to haunt me. I don’t want to put you or your family in any danger.”

“Rita would love you, no matter what your past would reveal. Tell me who they are, and I’m sure a few Mafia connections I have would take care of them for you.”

“Believe me, Tessa, the people I’ve dealt with were just as ruthless, if not more, than the Mafia.”

“You do have a lot of scars, and the two marks on your back and one on your shoulder look like they were caused by bullets.”

“They were. I should be dead, several times over.”

David’s vision was distracted by the appearance of Rita. She smiled at him, leaning over to pick up the rag he had dropped. His eye travelled down her low-cut dress, seeing her full breast and right nipple.

He didn’t know the actress’s name, but Rita reminded him very much of the woman Michael Corleone was briefly married to and who was murdered in the Godfather movie. Rita looked sultry with her long black hair; the strap of her dress fell to her elbow, giving more of a hint of the breast she’d gladly offer to his hands and lips.

David was strong-willed, but Rita’s beautiful brown eyes were getting to him. He hadn’t been with a woman since Marie was killed. On those lonely nights, he wondered if he’d ever be with a woman long-term. Should she be someone like Marie or Rita, or an assassin like him?

He readied several scooters, making sure they were full of gas, and was ready to take a rest. Tessa came to him and handed him a hundred euros. “Treat Rita out to a nice dinner and wine.”

“Are you trying to play matchmaker?”

“Who, me?” She replied innocently.

David climbed the steps to the roof and relaxed on a chair that overlooked the emerald-green waters of the large harbor. The upper floor of the garage had become his home.