Chapter 12
DIANGELO
Present
A coward or a fighter? Terina never gave me an answer, and I haven’t pushed for one. I doubt she could forget the question if she tried. I can see it dancing behind her eyes when I catch her watching me.
We’ve spent the better part of a week settling into our new normal.
She’s been cooperative, which I appreciate, but I don’t like how strictly she keeps to routine.
Yoga at the same studio, the same time, nearly every damn day.
Walks in the park using only one designated route.
Dinner with her mom and coffee with Isa, both twice a week—Wednesdays and Sundays with her mom, and Tuesdays and Fridays with Isa.
I discovered their usual coffee shop is several blocks away from her apartment. Rina had moved their meetings to the shop in her building to minimize her outings. I hadn’t realized she’d done that and appreciated her efforts, but a set coffee date, no matter where it is, is still too dangerous.
Routine might as well be an engraved invitation to the Russians.
Before dropping her off last night, I asked her to come up with a randomized schedule for next week. She wasn’t thrilled, but she said she’d work on it. I wonder how much she’ll be able to deviate from her established norm.
Terina is surprisingly structured for someone I thought tended toward impulsivity.
She’s an unusual mix of the two. While she can afford a cleaning service, she cleans the apartment herself but has no set cleaning schedule.
She prefers to cook her own food rather than eat out, but doesn’t plan her meals.
Instead, she buys whatever ingredients look good when she’s out shopping and concocts a recipe later.
I get the sense her need for control is more of a coping mechanism than an innate part of her personality.
I’d be curious to ask Renzo if she was like that before her husband died.
I wasn’t close to the family at that point, so I wasn’t privy to the details of his death.
It was a mugging gone wrong, which I only learned about after dinner at her mother’s house.
It’s an unfortunate way to go. Loss is bad enough on its own. Overcoming a violent, unexpected death can shatter a person.
I should know.
My brother’s death happened twenty years ago, and I still struggle to think about it. Her husband’s only been gone for five years. That’s not long in the grand scheme of things.
My phone rings, drawing my attention away from the computer screens where I’ve been scanning through the video footage of her building to see if anything suspicious jumps out at me.
“Yeah,” I answer.
“How’s everything going over there?” Renzo wants to know how things are going with his sister. His timing is perfect.
“Nothing to report at the moment, though I did have a question.”
“What’s up?”
“I was wondering what you could tell me about Terina’s husband’s death.” I toss it out there and hope I’m not overstepping.
“Why you wanna know?” Renzo asks with a hint of wariness.
“Just thought it might help me understand her better.”
He sighs, spiking my curiosity. His reaction isn’t quite what I anticipated.
“The guy wasn’t terrible, but he got into some shit—drugs and gambling. Terina never knew about it, and we decided not to tell her. Hell, I didn’t realize until the guy was dead. No reason to hurt her further by dragging him through the mud. It was over. End of story.”
Interesting.
“How much does she know?” I ask to make sure I don’t share anything I’m not supposed to.
“Just that he was stabbed in an attempted mugging. Wrong place, wrong time.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t get a read on him earlier.”
“Me, too. The guy was a finance bro. Worked on Wall Street and had never been in any trouble before. Took his first big corporate job right before they got married, and someone there must have got him coked up is all I could figure.”
I huff, knowing how ruthless it is in the financial district. Cops love to peg us for all the crime in the city, but that white-collar shit is nuts. Those guys would piss down their own mother’s throats to get a leg up.
“Sounds like she’s better off, no matter how shitty that is.”
“Hope so, since there’s nothing we can do about it now. Listen, I called to let you know we’ve got word on the Russians.”
“I’m listening.” A mild understatement. My heart suddenly slows to a quiet thrum as if to help me hear every possible detail.
“We got confirmation that Pasha isn’t rolling over easily and has stayed in the city despite Simeon’s warning to leave.
He’s pissed about the ouster, though there’s not much he can do about it.
Only a handful of guys went with him. I’m hoping the two brothers focus their grievances on one another and forget their beef with us. ”
“Any idea where he’s holing up?”
“Nope.”
“Then we still don’t know much,” I grumble.
“I know, but we’ve got our ears to the ground.”
“You still okay with Terina on the street?” At some point, if things get too dangerous, I’ll make the call myself to keep her sequestered somewhere safe.
Renzo doesn’t want to resort to that if possible, nor do I.
Rina herself offered to stop going to yoga.
I insisted classes were fine so long as we varied the schedule.
“Yeah. I know you’ve got her covered. Besides, the whole thing may blow over. It’s hard to say.”
It’s wishful thinking, if you ask me, but he didn’t, so I keep my thoughts to myself.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Later.”
As soon as the call ends, another rings through. This time, it’s Rina. She usually texts, so I’m immediately on guard.
“Yeah?”
The terror in her voice plunges me into an icy river.
“D, you need to come over here fast! Please, hurry.”