“Was he with anyone?”
“Um, I don’t recall, but I can check the feeds?” I shake my head. Kane can do that for me.
I have what I need for now, so I leave without a backward glance. The sooner we talk to Roman Harris, the better. If he’s genuinely ill and his absence is purely coincidental, then I’ll send him some flowers. And if he has something to hide, then he’s a dead man.
Roman Harris lives in a modern apartment complex downtown with various amenities, including a security guard on the door. But since the man recognizes me straight away, he lets Kane and me in with a nod.
We take the elevator up to the fifth floor. Roman’s door is at the end of the corridor; he has a corner unit with expansive views across the bay. At least I assume so from the outlook.
The corridor is silent. No nosy neighbors peeking out or TVs blaring away. I knock but hear nothing from inside the department. Either Roman isn’t there, or he’s dying in bed from some awful disease.
It takes Kane seconds to bust open the lock. For a man who works in security, Roman really ought to have invested in better quality locks.
Once inside, we quickly move from room to room, but it’s clear Roman is long gone. We find a few random items strewn across his bed, and the drawers in his closet are all pulled out and emptied.
The man left in a rush. Or so it would seem.
Looks like we now know who helped the two men gain access to Fina and Matteo’s suite.
Roman better hope I don’t catch up with him because he won’t like it when I do.
We have nothing. No leads. No clue who left Matteo for dead and abducted my sister.
Mypregnantsister.
Matteo’s still in a coma, and the doctors don’t know for sure if he’ll ever wake. And even if he regains consciousness, there’s no guarantee he’ll remember anything.
Kane’s on the phone when I finish ransacking Roman’s bedroom. There’s nothing interesting. The man doesn’t seem to have much of a life.
“Hang on, let me put you on speaker so Angelo can hear.”
“Angelo,” intones a familiar voice. My nerves prickle in irritation, but given the severity of the situation, I force myself to remain polite. We need Milo’s help, and I can’t afford to piss him or his Russian brother-husband off.
“Losing people is becoming a habit,” he continues in his weird monotone voice.
Choosing to ignore his little dig, I say, “Have you been able to identify the two men?”
“Of course.” I can almost see him rolling his eyes like I’m an idiot for suggesting otherwise.
“And?”
“Goons for hire. Last seen in the company of Domenico Santini.”
“Santini’s dead.”
There’s a long pause while Milo doesn’t acknowledge my update. Finally, he speaks.
“Interesting.”
My temper frays. “Is that all you found? My pregnant sister is fucking missing!”
Kane drops the book he just picked up. “What?Fina’s pregnant?”
“That changes things somewhat,” Milo agrees, although I don’t detect any increased urgency.
“We know Santini was working with my father, and as of last night, Dad seems very cozy with Tim Remington. Can you dig into Remington’s activities and see what you can find? Remington is not my biggest fan, and I wonder if he’s pulling strings somehow.”
I doubt very much he’s involved, but something’s not adding up.
