We searched the area for clues, finding the body of the tire-slashing kid Mario had found outside of the engagement dinner. Michael had put a tail on the kid, but we’d found the soldier dead in his car a few days ago. They must have made him when they popped the kid.
“Come on,” Michael said, sounding defeated.
We climbed back in his car and both lit up. SinceChains was the only participantin the hit we’d been able to identify, we were screwed. Knowing our old man would freak the hell out about the literal dead end, we headed for Carlo’s house. He listened to our story, poured himself two fingers of cognac, and chain-smoked Cubans for five minutes before calling Father. Our old man screamed so loudly Carlo had to hold the phone away from his ear.
When Father’s rant finally ended, Carlo put the receiver back to his cheek and said, “Yes, Boss,” before hanging up. Then he turned toward us. “Whoever did this is covering their tracks. Chains blabbed, so they took him out. Just like the kid you found. This situation is making us look like goddamn amateurs, and we need to get it straightened out.”
Yeah, we did, but Michael and I were fresh out of leads. We left Carlo’s office feeling frustrated and hopeless.
“I’m spent,” Michael said, rubbing a hand down his face. “I can’t wait till we find the bastards who did this, but I need a minute. There’s a couple soldiers working on a job I want in on. I’m gonna peel off and join them for it. I gotta do something that gets results before I blow my own goddamn brains out.”
Father wanted us back out there pounding the pavement, but I needed a break too. “Yeah, I got a couple of things to take care of as well,” I said. I had nothing to do, but needed to be away from him and the family for a while.
Michael dropped me off at the casino, where I climbed into my Porsche and took off. I had no destination in mind, but put myself on autopilot and drove. I didn’t even realize where was going until I turned down Annetta’s street. It had been days since I’d last seen her, and although I knew I needed to stay away, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Even as I parked in front of her house, I told myself I shouldn’t be there. A better man would have driven away, but I’ve never claimed to be a good guy.
Her father’s beat-up Chevytruck wasn’tin the driveway. Knowing he was probably working, I sat in the car and fiddled with my radio. I’d made the oldies station one of my presets after that first drive with Annetta, so I turned it on. The DJ was taking requests, and someone called in the song “Could It Be I’m Falling in Love” by the Spinners. Nice beat, dumb ass mushy song full of all sorts of romantic bullshit.
Love was a fantasy no mobster could afford, but I’d settle for getting laid. I killed the engine and got out, still unsure of what I planned to do. Ready to wing it if she answered, I knocked and waited.
Annetta opened the door wearing a pair of tight blue jeans with rips down the legs and a white sweater hanging off one shoulder. It showed about an inch of her flat stomach and made it practically impossible to focus on her eyes and not gawk at her body. I’d alwayssuspected she was perfect under her baggy chef uniform, but damn, the girl was hot. I wanted to see the rest of her.
“Hey, Dom.” Her tone was cold, standoffish. “What are you doing here?”
Not the reception I’d been hoping for, but herquestion was validsince I still had no idea. “I stopped by to see how you’re doing.”
She crossed her arms. “Uh… fine, thanks.”
Realizing I needed a better reason than the one I’d given her, I added, “How’s work? How are you liking the restaurant?”
“Oh, that.” Her shoulders relaxed, and she let out a breath. “It’s going well. Everyone’s been great and helpful, and now that the dinner’s over, the environment is way more relaxed.”
“Good to hear. Are you still getting enough hours?”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “Why do you ask?”
I shrugged.
“You know I’m not really good at small talk, Dom.” She leaned against the door frame. “So why don’t you just tell me why you’re really here.”
She wanted to know? All right, I’d tell her. I wasn’t some goddamn chicken who’d back down. Besides, I still wanted to see the rest of her smokin’ body. “I missed you.”
Her eyes widened for a second, and then her brow furrowed. She looked down at my feet and asked, “Why would you miss me?”
Why’d she have to make this so damn complicated? “I don’t know. I just… enjoy being around you, okay? I miss our drives.”
“Then tell me the truth. If you work security, why don’t I ever see you at the restaurant.”
I scratched at the two-day scruff on my chin and admitted, “I’m not employed at the restaurant. I do some security work, but only for my family.”
“And your family is the one who rented out the restaurant?” she asked.
I nodded.
“For your engagement party?” she asked.
I choked. “What? No. Definitely not.”
“But what about the girl in the pink dress?” she asked. “She’s not your fiancée?”
