Chapter 10 #2
Rourke grunted, reminding me of the disappointed sounds my father made at me, and my stomach clenched. Suddenly, my appetite was gone. I stuffed the sandwich back into its container and slammed the lid closed.
“Alright, well, don’t be late for work tomorrow,” he said.
“I won’t.”
We hung up, and I went back to staring at Enzo’s place.
He lived in an apartment building that was a lot more lowkey than I expected.
I’d thankfully found the place through my father’s files; surprisingly, there was an address for all of them.
He’d done a ton of work before packing it in, and I was glad I’d listened to my impulses and sought the files out.
The front door opened, and Enzo stepped out on his stoop. A man joined him. I looked through the papers I’d printed out, my mouth tugging into a frown.
“Giancarlo. The brother.” I tapped the paper and glanced up at them. “Where are you two going?”
They walked down the steps together and disappeared into what I recognized as Enzo’s car. Sliding down in my seat, I watched as Enzo took off down the road. When he was out of sight, I sat for a few minutes longer, but I couldn’t wait forever. It was now or never.
I slid out of the car and pulled my jacket around me.
The cool, fall air was biting at my skin as I waited around the stoop.
Another minute ticked by before a mom walked out of the building chastising a little blond boy behind her.
I smiled at them and slipped into the building.
According to the file, Enzo’s apartment was on the top floor. The man had an obsession with heights.
The elevator carried me up to the top, and I stepped out as I searched for his number.
Clearly, the apartments were bigger on this floor because there were only two doors.
Number 745 was his. I pulled out my lock-picking kit and set to work.
As the tumblers moved and time ticked by, sweat collected on my brow.
The sound of the door unlocking made me want to jump up and punch the air.
I gripped the knob and let myself inside.
“Woah.”
The place immediately had a homier feel than the hotel room I’d been taken to.
Inside there were family photos on the walls, and something smelled deliciou s in the kitchen.
I made my way there and peeked at the crockpot that was bubbling away.
What’s he making? I was tempted to take off the top and inspect it, but I forced myself to leave it alone. I moved past the kitchen.
Down the hallway was a bathroom and a guest room, or at least I guessed that’s what it was.
The room was bare except for a bed, dresser, and television set, but there was nothing personal there.
I took a set of wrought iron stairs up to the second floor and found a bedroom. Attached to it was an office.
“Bingo.”
I let myself into his office and rifled through his papers. What I was looking at looked legit. Building projects, an architecture firm, a development start-up. All legitimate businesses to hide the shady shit that they did. But it wasn’t going to get me anything.
I walked to the computer and booted it up. A box asked for a password. Immediately, I dialed Chelsea.
“Yo,” she said. “You in?”
“Yeah.” I sat down and pulled out the USB she’d given me. “What do I do again?”
“Easy. Plug in the USB and restart the computer. Enter the BIOS by pressing F2 or the delete key. Under Boot options, set removable devices with boot sequence priority over the hard drive. Save the settings and reboot the computer.”
I blinked at the computer. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
She cackled. “Okay, hang with me. I’ll walk you through it.”
I did as she said, moving step by step. When the computer came back on, the password was disabled. I logged on and browsed through his files.
“Don’t worry about looking. You won’t know what to do. Just clone the hard drive.”
“How long is this going to take?” I asked.
“Depends on the size of the hard drive. The bigger it is, the longer it’ll take.”
My stomach twisted into a knot. Great. I was sitting in Enzo’s apartment and had no idea when I was going to be able to get out of there. I leaned back in the computer chair and looked around.
“So, who is this guy anyway?”
“A bad man,” I answered.
“Yeah? Well, why did you look at him like that when we were at Blu?”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like you wanted to put his whole dick in your mouth and swallow.”
Groaning, I pushed myself to my feet. “Shut up.”
“Don’t try to get out of the conversation. Answer the question, Texas. If he’s so bad, why did you look at him like you wanted him to come down and talk to you? Like you wanted to be chased,” she said, dragging the word out.
My jaw clicked. “The only thing I want to do is put him behind bars.”
I walked out of the office and made my way down the hall. There was a picture of three boys. I wondered if they were the Vitale brothers.
“And once he’s locked away, he won’t be my problem.”
She whistled. “Ah, I get it. He’s the bad boy. You’re the good guy. It’s a match made in hell, but lust made in heaven,” she sighed wistfully. “It’s the perfect setup, really.”
“You’ve been watching too many romance movies again.”
“There’s absolutely no such thing. I’m getting another call. Do you still need me?”
I shook my head. “Nah. I know how to do the rest.”
“Good luck with your bad boy.”
“Fuck off.”
I hung up to the sound of her laughter. Walking through the rest of his place, I searched every nook and cranny.
Enzo had a lot of books. They were stacked on shelves, lying on tables, and placed haphazardly in corners where he’d clearly run out of space.
There was a new bookcase sitting on the floor, half put together.
I ran my fingers over the clean, dark wood and continued to walk around.
Enzo’s place was… cozy. Big, but comfortable. I could see myself curling up on a couch here or sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. I froze as the thought went through my mind. What the fuck am I thinking? I don’t belong here.
Right, this was the home of the man that I was getting ready to send to prison for a very, very long time. I turned on my heels, ignoring the stupid fantasies that raged and returned to the office. The progress bar was still slowly filling.
I had no choice but to leave again and explore more.
From what I could see, I learned things about Enzo; he preferred Jazz and was interested in instruments.
There was no tv in his bedroom like there was in mine, but there were more books.
In the closet was a range of expensive suits, but in his dresser were comfortable clothes that were soft to the touch.
I looked under his bed and spotted a shoe box. I dragged it out. Popping off the top, I glanced inside. There were pictures inside. Some of them were normal photos of pets, family, and birthdays long gone by. But as I dug through the box, I froze.
There was Enzo with a man who looked somewhat like me. Same dark hair and bright eyes that were gray instead of blue, but he was smiling so hard at the camera. Enzo looked stoic, but there was something in his eyes that looked like joy.
I continued to shuffle through the photos one by one. They turned from cute and sweet to sexy and wild. I quickly moved past those until the photos fell from my hands.
There, the last photo in the group, was the man from before. His face was bloody, one eye swollen shut as blood dripped from his mouth. There was a pleading look on his face and Enzo’s hand was in frame, holding his chin gently. I would know that ring on his finger anywhere.
My stomach lurched as the truth dawned on me. Bile rose in the back of my throat. I scrambled up and raced for the bathroom. My knees slammed against cold tile, and I tossed the toilet seat up just in time to spew my dinner into it. It came up in chunks, gagging me and making my eyes water.
Enzo had killed his lover.
I spit until the last remnants of sickness were gone before I dragged myself to my feet.
Once the toilet was flushed, I shuffled over to the sink and turned on the water.
I drank directly from the faucet, water running over my mouth and rinsing out the rancid taste that clung to my tongue.
I snatched up the bottle of mouthwash, swishing it around to dispel the grossness that coated my mouth.
Enzo Vitale killed his lover.
I knew it as much as I knew the sky was blue, and I paid too much in fucking taxes. Determination coursed through my veins. I stormed back to the bedroom and spread the photos out until I found the happy ones. I snapped pictures of them all and shoved the phone back into my pocket.
I was going to find out who that man was and confirm what I already knew. A small, niggling part of my brain screamed it wasn’t true. That I would find the guy alive and well in the city. But the realistic part of me knew.
Carefully, I placed everything back in its original spot as best I could before I shoved the shoe box underneath the bed again. I stalked to the office to check the progress. Eighty-seven percent copied. Thirteen more to go.
“Oh shit, this thing is heavy!”
My heart stopped. I stared at the office door as I heard the voices speaking below. Slowly, I walked over and peeked through the crack in it.
“Why do you need another bookcase? You haven’t even put that one together,” a man complained, his Italian accent clear.
“I’m putting it together tonight,” Enzo answered. “So I wanted another to work on when I’m done.”
“Goddamn, you’re weird,” the man countered. “My idea of a good night is fucking and drinks, and yours is building a bookcase.” He paused. “Is it because you’re distracting yourself from a certain cop?”
There was silence. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Have you been keeping an eye on him at least?”
“Of course,” Enzo said. “He went to that girl’s house tonight, and they tend to stay together for several hours. I’ll go by his place tonight and make sure he’s there.”
My body broke out in a cold sweat. Enzo knew I was a cop. Had he been watching me from the start? My heart dropped into my stomach, and I gripped it through my shirt. Shit. He knew who I was all along.
“Fine,” the man answered. “Just make sure you’re doing what Benito says, or he’ll be on both our asses.” He grunted. “I’m getting out of here. You take care of that last cop?”
“Yeah, Ramada,” he answered. “Found him on our casino boat and took care of him.”
I felt like I was going to pass out. Ramada? It couldn’t be the one from my precinct, right? I felt like the Earth was shifting beneath me. Enzo being a bad guy wasn’t news, but it was still shocking to hear them talk about ending human life so casually.
“Good job,” the man said. “Get some rest, okay? Night, Enzo.”
“Night, Gin.”
The front door closed, and my throat squeezed. I shuffled back to the computer and found the copy was at ninety-five percent. It would have to be good enough. I yanked it out and restarted the computer. It was quiet when I approached the stairs, and I waited.
Carefully, I walked down. Enzo was nowhere in sight as my heart pounded in my chest. Maybe he stepped out with his brother?
I had to find some way to get downstairs and out of the building without them seeing me.
Slowly, I walked to the door only to stop like a deer in headlights when it started to open.
“Enzo, I forgot my goddamn keys,” Gin bellowed.
Something hard slammed into me, and I flew back into the kitchen. I crashed to the floor, and Enzo stood there, his eyes wild as he stared down at me. He shoved a finger against his lips, shook his head, and walked away.
“You left them by the front door,” he said. “Try this table.”
My heart sped up so fast I couldn’t breathe. Did Enzo just protect me? His brother hadn’t seen me, is that what he was after? The brothers talked, the keys jingled when they were found, and I couldn’t stop feeling the urge to puke again.
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” Gin said. “Stop pushing!”
“I’m ready to be alone,” Enzo growled.
The door shut, and I pulled myself to my feet before I stuffed the USB drive into my shoe. I straightened up as Enzo rounded into the kitchen and slammed me against the counter.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house? How did you even find this place?” he demanded.
I swallowed thickly, but no words came. What the hell was I going to tell him that would get me out of his place in one piece with the evidence I needed? I looked into his eyes and drew on my years of being a lying, manipulative junkie.
“I missed you.”