Furious Jones and the Assassin’s Secret by Tim Kehoe Page A

to stay. Or grab an apron and help out.” She smiled again.
    â€œAh, that’s okay. I’ll just stop back later,” Kidd said, heading toward the door. He stopped and turned. “How’s your gnocchi?”
    â€œThe best in town.”
    â€œPerfect. I’ll be back for dinner.”
    â€œWe fill up this time of year. I’d be happy to make you a reservation.” She walked to the podium by the door.
    â€œThank you. I’m serious about my gnocchi,” Kidd said. “I like to enjoy dinner without a lot of people around. What time does it quiet down around here?”
    â€œOur latest reservation is nine o’clock,” she said, “but we’re usually dead after eight.”
    â€œNine would be perfect, then,” Kidd said, thinking it might give him a chance to quietly connect with Anton.
    â€œFor one?” she asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œYou won’t be disappointed. Our gnocchi is out of this world. We have a wonderful new chef. He’s Sicilian!”
    â€œSicilian?” Kidd asked. “What a coincidence. I know a guy from Sicily.”
    â€œAnd your name?” she asked.
    â€œCarter Kenney,” Kidd lied. “My name is Carter Kenney.”
    â€œAh, your name sounds a little Irish,” she said.
    â€œMore than a little.” Kidd laughed.
    â€œWe’ll see you tonight.” She smiled again and set down the pencil.
    Carter Kenney was not an alias Kidd had ever used before, but he hadn’t missed a beat when asked. It was an old CIA alliteration trick. When making up a false identity, use your actual initials. It makes the alias easier to remember. It was the same advice the FBI gave to families entering the witness protection program. Heidi Strauss becomes Helen Stassen. Over the years, Carson Kidd had gone by hundreds of names but, for the rest of this trip, he would now be Carter Kenney.
    Kidd had no idea what alias Anton was using, but he knew his real name. His name was Amado Anton. Kidd knew just about everything there was to know about Anton. He knew Anton was born in the Philippines and moved to the Hampton Roads area of Virginia when he was twelve. Kidd knew that Anton had joined the navy when he was eighteen and was quickly recruited into the navy’s most elite fighting force, known as SEAL Team Six. He knew they bothhad been trained at The Farm. And as recently as two weeks ago, they were both members of the CIA. But what he didn’t know was what Anton was doing here and who Anton had been talking to. Was the guy with the long hair the new Sicilian chef? Was he the Sicilian? Had Anton actually managed to find and get close to the Sicilian? If so, why hadn’t he killed him yet? The kitchen at an Italian restaurant should have offered many opportunities to kill him. If, indeed, the man was the Sicilian.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
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    I lay on the bed thinking about my mom having to come to this town to confront a killer. According to my dad’s book, a world-class killer. The best killer. I’d always known she was tough. But I’d had no idea how tough she truly was.
    I wondered if the Sicilian killed my mom. I wanted to skip to the end of the novel and see what happened to her. But according to my dad’s book, Anton and the Sicilian both specialized in making assassinations look like accidents. I assumed that Anton, like my mom, was killed here in Galena. And I assumed that accidents like hot water heaters killing people and hay balers chewing people up and spitting them out hinted at the fact that the Sicilian was still here and still working his way down the list of witness protection rats.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
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    I woke up feeling better than I had in a long time. Maybe it was the magical effects of the Second House. Or maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t slept on a bus. I glanced out the window. It looked perfect outside. I reached down to open the window when I noticed white sand, or