But I stare at the road while the engine idles, thinking. Thinking about loyalty, and about what I owe to the Morellis.
“Hey, Big Guy,” he prompts. “Where next?”
“Don’t call me ‘Big Guy.’ And don’t askme; aren’t you supposed to be the brains of this operation?”
“Touchy. Fine. Obviously this Giovanni Dellacroce isnotdead—yet. But someone wants himactuallydead.” He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Icouldcall a PI the firm uses sometimes, if we don’t want to fuck around. See if he can find a lead on either name.”
“Okay,” I say absently, still looking at the road, still in park.
“Okay? You don’t even want to know who this PI is?” He pauses, then adds warningly, “He’s an ex-cop.”
“Can he keep his mouth shut?”
“Sure. He wants to keep his pension.”
“Then okay.”
“Hey,” Carlo says sharply, and I blink as I turn my attention to him. “What’s got you in a daze? Normally if I said the c-word, you’d be all over it.”
“I’m not thrilled about involving cops, retired or otherwise,” I admit. “But like you say, if it’ll speed things up, then okay.” But then I turn the engine off, staring at Carlo as I think something over.
His eyes narrow. “What is it?”
“We have a problem.” I squeeze my finger and thumb over my eyelids, hoping it’ll head off the dull pain threatening to spread into a headache.
“Yeah. We have several.”
“No. I mean…” I sigh.
“Explain it to me in small syllables,” Carlo suggests.
“Okay. I killed a man I shouldn’t have, just to protect you.” I see him open his mouth to say something smartass like,And I’m very fucking grateful for it, but when I look at him, he pauses. “I’d do it again. I haven’t got any problem with that. Theproblem, Harvard…”
“The problem?”
“The problem is that Idon’thave a problem with it. I put you before the Family. Before the Boss. Before everything else. And that…that, Carlo, is a problem.”
He swallows, his toffee-bright eyes flicking down and away. “And how do you propose we solve this problem?”
I screw up my mouth, wondering how much I can say. It involves Family business, and Carlo has already heard more than he should from me. But maybe if I tell him what I’m thinking, he’ll be able to point out why it’s the wrong move. I hope so. God, I hope so. I start the car again, reach over to turn the radio up loud, and drop my voice low.
“See, the other thing is,” I say slowly, “Messina’s been in Vegas recently.”
Carlo grimaces. “I don’t think you should have told me that.”
“Probably not, no.”
“But I can’t unhear it.”
“No. And…I feel like it’s a fact I need to put out there.”
“Because?” It’s not an impatientBecause?Carlo is actually waiting for me to speak, to make an argument, to convince him.
But I’m not a lawyer. I’m not a talker. I shrug. “If this has something to do with the West Coast, it might be something Messina needs to know. Or Messina might be able to feed us something back.”
Carlo sees where I’m going. “We can just use the PI, keep everything under wraps,” he says at once. “Whywouldn’twe just use the PI?” There’s an edge of pleading to his voice, the same one I’ve heard sometimes when he’s begging for my cock, which gives a confused twitch in my pants.Crossed wires, I tell it.This is a bad time.
“The thing is, Harvard,” I tell him quietly, “I’ve been compromised and the Boss doesn’t know it. Meanwhile, Messina’s out there with no one at his back except that Fed he dragged with him. It’s my responsibility to give him a heads-up. I owe him that much. I oweLucathat much, too. I should’ve come clean with him from the start.”
