“But we don’t even know if the guy isinthere,” Carlo begins again, and his tone is going to drive me into the psych ward before I ever have a chance to find out who this blackmailer is.
I start the car and move us one block down, so we’ll be less suspicious. After that, I get out of the car and lean down before I shut the door to tell Carlo, “Wait here.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Fontana, sir!” He gives me a sarcastic salute. I ignore it and slam the door on him.
* * *
I returnto the car just fifteen minutes later with bad news. “Yeah, our guy is the owner, and he’s not there tonight.”
Carlo gives me an exasperated look. “If you were just gonna go in there and ask, why didn’t you do that at the start?”
“I didn’t go in there; I went to the bar next door and chatted up the bartender until he told me what I wanted to know.”
“You chatted up a bartender?”
He almost sounds jealous. “I’m kidding, Harvard. I just showed him the photo and asked if he knew the guy. He sure did. And the way he talked about ‘Bill Harris,’ I’m pretty sure Dellacroce isn’t exactly a popular guy around here. This bartender, he actually asked me if the Alessis were finally going to make good on their protection promise.”
“Hang on,” Carlo says, “did you tell this guy you were an Alessi?”
“Of course not. But I can hardly stop him thinking it if he wants to, can I?”
Carlo gives a sigh. “And how are the Alessis going to react when they find out someone’s running around Montauk claiming to be one of them?”
“Can we just move on with our lives for now?” I start the car and pull out before he can answer. “So I guess we’ll go back to the beach house get some rest for tomorrow. That’s when the owner tends to come in—Fridays.”
We’re driving past a movie theater, with a flock of teenagers out the front smoking, laughing, generally having a good time. “You could’ve asked one of them to go ask for you instead,” Carlo mutters. “At least then they wouldn’t think it was the goddamn Alessi Family nosing around.”
“Yeah, a guy my size offering a teenager a hundred bucks to do me a favor? The last thing I need is to be arrested for solicitation of a fucking minor. Although, hey, at least I have my lawyer here to get me out.”
Carlo starts to chuckle and after a second, I join in.
“Okay, fuck this, let’s just go home,” I say to him. “We can relax tonight, and come back tomorrow.” I don’t point out that even then we’ll still be playing catch up. There’s no guarantee that Dellacroce will have any idea someone’s out to kill him—and even if he does, there’s no guarantee he’ll know who our blackmailer is when I ask him.
But it’s all we have right now.
* * *
Back at thebeach house I start heading up to bed. An early night feels like the best option. But Carlo calls me down again and into the kitchen, where he’s already pulled out a bottle from the bar supplies in the fridge, and is pouring out two glasses of white wine.
“You know what I think we should do?” he asks with a smile.
“Go to bed so we’re well rested for tomorrow?”
He huffs a laugh. “I think we should share a bottle of wine on the deck out back and watch the ocean under the moonlight.”
“Very romantic,” I begin, “but I’m tired so I think I’ll just—”
“Come on, Nicky,” he says softly, catching at my fingers before I can turn and walk out of the room again. “This could be our last night to justbetogether.”
I hate thinking about our time running down. I hate it. But he’s right, so I clear my throat and say, “Well hell, I guess we better drink it, since you already opened the bottle.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Carlo
Nick might have reacted with sarcasm about the romance of watching the ocean undulating in the clear moonlight, but it really is pretty. I don’t know what it is about this place, but ever since we got here, I’ve felt a sense of freedom that I’ve never felt back in the City. I’ve just about made my mind up to buy a vacation property out here—well, somewhere on the beach, anyway. Perhaps a little further out from the influence of the New York Families. And a little further away from any submerged corpses.
It’s not just the sea that looks good to me tonight, either. Nick and I might have already had one round of stress relief earlier today, but when I look at him now, I don’t just want to fuck him again, I actually want to make himfeelsomething. Something good, to take away the sting of what I said before about this being our last night together, which seemed to hurt him.
