looking for anything that could tell him more about who this man really was. Nothing much could be determined from exploring the neatly kept house.
Realizing the house bore no evidence that he could see, he decided to call his aunt who had been like a mother to him since his own mother had died. Of all the people, he knew she would probably be the only person who could shed some light on who this man was. Sitting down next to the phone, he dialed her number.
"Mom, it's me Tyler. How are you? How are you doing?" Tyler asked.
"How am I doing? I am doing fine. But the real question is how you are doing and where are you?" she challenged.
"I'm in California visiting a friend, and I am fine. Really I'm fine," Tyler lied. "Mom, I have to ask you something. Did you know my father?"
"No, Tyler, I never knew who it was your mother married," she responded.
"Married?" he asked.
"Yes, your mother was married in Chicago. I know his name was Theodore something, nice Italian boy. That is all I know. Your uncle was furious with her because she kept it a secret from him until the very last minute. He did attend the wedding, but due to his job he had to get back here and could not stay long enough to get to know the young man," she told him. "You know how your uncle can be. He would have given Theo the third degree and done a background check and all," she laughed.
"So you never got a chance to meet him?" Tyler asked her.
"No. Your uncle went alone and was back in a few days," she responded.
"Ok. You ok? You need anything?" he asked her.
"No, Tyler. I'm fine. Please take care of yourself. I love you," she told him.
"I love you too, Mom," Tyler responded. "I'll let you know what's going on. Please don't worry about me. If you need anything you can reach me at this number." Tyler gave her the number and hung up.
After staring at the phone for a couple of minutes, he picked it up and called his aunt once again. "Mom, sorry but I have to ask you something else," he said.
"Sure, dear. What is it?" she asked.
"You said my mother got married in Chicago. Do you remember or know the address where she lived?" he questioned almost desperately.
"Well, I don't remember right now, but I'm sure I have the address somewhere. Let me look for it and I'll get back to you. Is that ok, dear?" she asked him.
"Sure, no problem," Tyler bid her goodbye, trying not to sound disappointed, and hung up.
It was several hours later when his aunt returned the call with the information Tyler requested. He now had a starting point.
Apparently his parents had lived on South Wabash Street in the heart of Little Italy. Armed with this information, Tyler decided to go to Chicago. First, he would try to find out what he could about the man who owned this house.
After questioning some of the neighbors, Tyler discovered that the man who occupied the house was known as Jack Ferrari. He assumed that Mr. Ferrari must be an associate of Theo Gresco.
Tyler called the people who had contacted him, to find out if they knew anything more about Jack Ferrari. The information he received led him to Jack's lawyer and accountant, David Spencer. A few minutes later Tyler put in a call to him.
"Hello, who did you say you were?" inquired the voice on the other end of the phone.
"I'm looking for a Mr. Jack Ferrari," Tyler stated.
"What did you say your name was?" David asked Tyler.
"I didn't. But if you must know, my name is Tyler Santiago," Tyler responded.
"Oh my God, Jack told me about you. He said you would be calling," David said aloud.
"What?" Tyler asked, caught by surprise.
"I guess Jack, excuse me, Mr. Ferrari, won't be coming back, huh?" David speculated.
"What do you mean?" Tyler asked.
"Look, Mr. Santiago. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but my instructions were quite clear. In the event I do not hear from Mr. Ferrari in more than three months, I am to assume he is no longer among the living. Also, if I get a call from a Mr. Tyler Santiago I am to forward you several envelopes," said David Spencer.
"What do these envelopes contain?" pried Tyler.
"I have no idea, but the instructions were for me to physically hand them over to you. Mr. Ferrari was quite clear on this as well as in anything and everything he did," Mr. Spencer informed him.
"So when can I meet with you?" asked Tyler.
"Well Mr. Santiago, you're the client. You tell me," David advised.
"I am not from around here. Please, give me a suggestion," Tyler said.
"Sure. How about the restaurant on the corner of Washington Street and Sullivan Avenue? Say around six p.m. tomorrow," David proposed.
"Not a problem," Tyler confirmed, and after jotting down the information, hung up. Not knowing what he was getting into, Tyler decided to check out this so-called David Spencer, so he called his old partner Eric Romano.
"Hey Eric, it's me Tyler. How you been?" he asked.
"How have I been? Man, the FBI is looking for you. Where are you?" Eric interrogated Tyler.
"What the hell do they want with me?" Tyler demanded, ignoring his question.
"I don't know, but the captain was in there with Sam and Sheila for about an hour. They were going back and forth. Finally, they left and they didn't look too happy. What's going on Tyler? You in some sort of trouble?" Eric asked him.
"I don't know and I ain’t got time for them right now. I need a big favor. I need you to look up a guy for me. Will you do that?" Tyler asked.
"Yeah man. No problem. I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for your ass saving my life on a couple of occasions. Least I can do. But you got to call the FBI and find out what they want with you. Do that for me. Ok?" Eric pleaded with Tyler.
"OK, man. You got it," Tyler agreed.
He hung up with Eric after giving him all the information he had on David Spencer, but lied about having a number where Eric could reach him. Tyler promised to call him back later that day.
After some time, Tyler decided to call FBI headquarters to find out what was going on. He was about to call them from the house, but decided against it as he was sure they monitored all incoming calls. He wasn't ready to let them know where he was.
After driving approximately thirty miles from the house, Tyler checked into a motel, paying cash for the room.
"Hello, may I speak to agent Sheila Cooper or Samuel Williams?"
After a few minutes and a few rings Sheila came on the phone.
"Hello, Agent Cooper here. How can I help you?" Sheila said.
"Hi, Sheila," Tyler said.
"Tyler!" Sheila almost shouted. "I mean Detective Santiago," Sheila said and then corrected herself. "Sorry, Mr. Santiago. I understand you are no longer with the police force."
"That is correct. I heard you folks are looking for me." Tyler said plainly.
"Ye... Yes we need to talk to you," Sheila said.
"What do you want?" Tyler asked matter-of-factly.
"We need to ask you a few questions about something that has come up during one of our investigations," Sheila said.
"And what investigation might that be?" Tyler asked her.
"I am not at liberty to discuss the matter over the phone, Mr. Santiago," Sheila said in a practiced “by the book” voice.
"I am afraid you will have to, as right now I am quite busy," Tyler responded.
"Tyler,"