Without his father, Carmine has even more work to do, but it seems he’s also avoiding handing the work he used to do off to someone else. It’s unusual for the head of a crime family to be out working deals himself, even more so for him to be doing so alone.
I don’t see a single bodyguard with him, or near him. They might be hiding in the shadows, but so am I. It begs the question: who’s in who’s shadow?
He’s being reckless, but this doesn’t surprise me. Not after the night at the club. I had gone there to make sure everything was fine with the plants that Carmine had allowed us to sendthere. I hadn’t expected to find Carmine mid threesome in the back of the club. While it was a shadowed and semi-private section, there were still plenty of prying eyes. The near altercation in the alleyway only told me I was right to follow him out there.
I could have ignored it, let him make a fool of himself even more, but for some reason I just had to follow him. Make sure it didn’t go even worse.
Even now, as I watch Carmine from a distance in the city streets late at night, I can’t help but think about that night.
I try to focus. Keep my presence about business and business only.
Carmine steps closer to the woman he’s talking to in a dark corner between an art studio and a row of apartments. She’s smoking a cigarette and doesn’t break her eye contact with him, but I can see it in her body language that she’s on edge. She shifts side to side on her feet, she takes drag after drag too quickly for the vapors to settle in her lungs, and she keeps her back toward the wall behind her.
I can’t tell what they’re talking about, and I curse myself for not taking advantage of placing a bug when I had Carmine all to myself. I don’t like not knowing exactly what’s going on.
As Carmine passes over an envelope and then walks away from the woman, I find myself memorizing every little detail about the look on his face. He looks satisfied but exhausted. His eyes are tired, dark circles underneath them, and though his hair is neatly combed and his jacket pressed, he walks back to his car a block or two over in a slow leisurely pace.
Perhaps he’s just trying to look natural. He doesn’t.
Until that night at the club, I’d never seen nor heard of him doing something so reckless. Not when it came to his own reputation.
Drawing a gun, taking a chance on a fight, threatening a rival…sure, but allowing himself to be dick out and drugged up in a place where anyone could decide to take it to their advantage? Never.
Maybe that’s part of why I continue to watch him. For the sake of my uncle and keeping tabs on everything, sure, but knowing that Carmine could throw himself under a bus at any second gives me a hell of a lot more motivation. I can’t lie.
It’s not about him. No, it’s about what he is. What him putting himself in trouble could do to not only his family, but mine.
I’d be doing this regardless of who had taken leadership after Michaelis.
At least, this is what I’m telling myself as I watch Carmine slide out of his car and rake his fingers through his hair.
He’s been out all night. The early morning sun of this Christmas Day shines over the horizon, but he’s not heading home, not yet.
Carmine is heading into one of the only coffee shops that’s open today. A small business run by an older Asian woman.
As I sit in my own car from a distance, I have to admit something hot to drink sounds good. It’s cold as fuck and I’ve been awake even longer than he has.
Just as I’m starting to get out of my car, I see a familiar figure walking up the sidewalk from the other direction.
The Carvel woman from the other night. After doing some digging, I know now that she’s Victoria Carvel.
She’s got an awfully smarmy look on her face, and she’s not alone. Her husband, Jackson Carvel is with her.
“Ah, shit,” I mumble. I grab my gun out of the glove compartment of the car and step out from the right side, walking around the car to get to the sidewalk.
Carmine is inside, seemingly unaware of the situation he’s in.
“What a coincidence. Everyone’s here to get some coffee this morning,” I say as I walk up to them but avoid walking in front of the window. I turn around so that I’m blocking their path.
“Sure are. Why don’t you get out of our way?” Jackson tells me.
I tilt my head to the side. “Oh, sure. I just wanted to ask Victoria how she liked the club the other night.”
“What’s he talking about?” Jackson asks.
Victoria waves a hand. “Nothing, baby.”
I raise a brow. I realize that Jackson seems to not know about her being at the club, but if he’s here because of Carmine, she must have told him some kind of story.
