Chapter 3
MIA
“Ilove what you’ve done with the place,” I observe nervously, wading through the awkward silence.
We’re in the back room, which is basically an office, equipped with a rusty metal desk, a chipped-up poker table, and my dad’s old record player that collects dust in the corner. It was the one thing Vince kept when he took over the outfit.
“You can take off that dumb disguise. No one here is going to recognize you. I barely did,” Dante mumbles, lighting up a cigarette and balancing it on his lip.
I wrinkle my nose, but I don’t say anything.
Smoking is the least likely thing to get him killed.
He’s lucky he made it into his thirties with his temper.
I nod, gripping the back of my wig and pulling it to my lap. Now there is no doubt that the man in front of me is my brother. We have the same dark brown hair and eyes. I’ve always looked more like Dante than Vince. We both looked like our mom, and Vince was Dad’s twin.
“I guess you’re here because you heard about Vince,” he says, taking a drag of the cancer stick.
Dante doesn’t blink when he says Vince’s name, and if he were anyone else, I’d be concerned.
But my brother grieved differently. He held everything inside until he found an outlet.
It was usually fighting—another thing we had in common.
“Yes and no,” I say, rubbing my damp palms against my thighs. “I’m investigating Vince’s murder.”
“I’m aware,” he says nonchalantly, causing the back of my throat to burn.
I blink slowly. “Excuse me? How do you even know I’m a detective now?”
“Come on, sis,” Dante says, leaning deeper into his chair. “You might have left our family, but you can never truly leave. Vince kept tabs on you since the day you turned your back on us.”
“I didn’t—never mind. Why didn’t anyone reach out when I moved back to New York?”
The tiniest crack ripples across Dante’s face, but he reels it in quickly. “Would you have wanted us to? As soon as you got the key to your cage, you ran far, far away without so much as a goodbye. You got your point across.”
The first sting of regret singes the corners of my mind.
Vince didn’t let me say goodbye to Dante even though I wanted to.
Vince knew Dante wouldn’t have let me leave without a fight.
He was always the protective older brother who held on way too tight.
He was loyal to a fault and took family seriously. It’s why he thrived in this world.
“I left a note,” I say, biting my lip.
Dante lets out a bitter laugh and pushes his cigarette into the obsidian ashtray on his desk. “Yes, you left a note. A measly piece of paper, Mia. There was no conversation. No warning. Vince didn’t say a damn word for two days after reading it. I thought you broke him.”
More guilt twists inside my stomach, making a home there. I look down at my hands, too ashamed to look at my last living family member. I’m about to tell him it was Vince’s idea for me to leave like that, but it’s no use now. It won’t make anything better or bring him back.
“I didn’t think anyone would care,” I lie, my voice cracking.
Dante scoffs, pushing the knife in deeper. “That’s bullshit and you know it. If you wanted someone to feed you lies to make you feel better, then you’re shit out of luck. Vince isn’t here to do that anymore.”
Now that cuts deep. Too deep for my liking. “I needed out, Dante. I couldn’t stop having nightmares about dad. I was going insane here. And now…Vince.”
“I know,” he mumbles, turning his own gaze to the horrendously patterned carpet, “but you’re back now whether you like it or not and you’re going to help me find out who killed Vince.”
“What?” I say, snapping my eyes to his.
“Did you really think his body being moved into your jurisdiction was a coincidence?”
“You know interfering with a crime scene is a felony, right? If they find your fingerprints, you’re screwed, and there’s nothing I can do to protect you.”
Dante shrugs, rolling his head to the side. “They won’t find any prints,” he says confidently.
The certainty in his voice should make me feel calm, but instead it sends a prickly sensation up and down my back. If forensics did find Dante’s prints, he’d already be in custody.
“Fine. Can you at least tell me where Vince was shot? Finding the crime scene will help us catch the killer.”
“You know I can’t do that, Mia.” He sighs, tapping his fingers against the metal desk. “If this is connected to who I think it is, they’ll know I snitched.”
“Who do you think this is connected to?” I ask, leaning forward and placing my hands against the cold, hard surface.
He locks his jaw. “You need to be smart about this. I have eyes on me right now and if I tell you too much, it’s going to get me killed. You know how this world works.”
I nod slowly. Silence falls around us as I think. I can’t leave here empty-handed, especially with the bastard placing such a heavy task on my shoulders. “Then help me without saying anything you can’t.”
Dante lets out a humorless laugh, making me clench my fists. “We’re not playing charades here, Sis.”
“Dante,” I say, grinding my teeth together as I hold his gaze.
He squares his shoulders, sitting forward in his chair. “Vince had a meeting the night he died. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it or who it was with. He left here around ten and that’s—that’s the last time I saw him.”
I grip the edge of my seat. His eyes sink to the ground, causing a tightness to wind up in my chest. “I found a valet ticket on him from Ristorante Ottaviani. Does that sound familiar?”
Just when I think his body can’t get any stiffer, he proves me wrong. From this angle it looks like a vein is about to pop on the side of his neck. “Fuck, Mia. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. I can’t—”
“Stop. I’m doing this. If this does end up being connected to them, I’m going to see it through. I couldn’t do anything when we were kids, but maybe I can now.”
Now there’s no doubt in my mind that this is connected to the Carusos, and judging by the speckle of fear in Dante’s eyes, they must be even more dangerous than they were when I was a kid. We never found out who killed our dad, but we always suspected it had something to do with their family.
For years, the Carusos pushed my family to fold into their business and be absorbed into a bigger outfit until one day those silly threats carried real weight none of us were brave enough to call out. The police didn’t care either. They never did in this neighborhood.
But now I have a chance to change that.
Even if I only get to take one of these bastards down, it will help numb the quiet vengeance raging under years of silence.
“Mia, they don’t fuck around. They’re not above killing cops.”
“I know,” I say, rolling my lips together, “but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. He’d do the same for me.”
It’s true. My brother had done a lot of bad things, but that didn’t make him a bad man. He’s the one who encouraged me to want more for myself even if that meant leaving.
“Fine,” he says, wrapping his hand around a clear glass sitting on his desk. Before he pulls it to his lips, he says, “You’ve changed. You’re…harder.”
I lower my chin. “I had to be. You and Vince always protected me, but when I left I had to figure out how to do that myself.”
Dante exhales into his cup, setting it back on the water ring that forms its forever home. “If you’re going to do this, you can’t trust anyone. The Caruso’s have guys on the force and higher up than that.”
“I’m not stupid,” I huff. “I know they have guys in their pockets. I am, however, kind of insulted no one’s attempted to bribe me.” I smirk, trying to find some better footing than the strangling feeling of dread between us.
“It’s good to know you still have a sense of humor,” Dante says, rolling his eyes.
“You should try it sometime,” I say, rising to my feet. “Might help ease that shitty scowl that’s permanently etched on your face.”
I might be imagining things, but I think I see the corner of his mouth quiver for a millisecond.
He shakes his head before angling his stare. “Just be careful. I’m not burying another sibling.”
“When is Vince’s funeral?” I ask, ignoring his compassionate warning.
“Tomorrow morning, but” he begins, pausing before saying, “I think it’s best if you keep your distance. It’s too risky.”
I force a nod, but unease cements inside me. “I know,” I say, sliding my card across the table. “If you can think of anything else that might help, let me know. The station is going to call you in for an interview, but I’ll do my best to keep you out of the investigation afterward.”
Dante stares at the card like it’s lava and lets out a small noise of irritation before tucking it into his pocket. I give him one last bow of my head before shoving my hair back into the wig and walking toward the exit.
“One more thing, Mia,” my brother says, stopping me before I can open the door.
“Yeah?” I question, removing my hair from the doorknob and turning toward him.
“Stay away from that man you were talking to earlier.”
“Why?” I ask, remembering the way his presence seemed to absorb everything else in the room. I figured he was just another made man with an ego bigger than his head.
Dante stares at me, his face melting into a brotherly puddle of concern before hardening into something more familiar. More serious. “Just do it, okay?”
“Okay,” I say, nodding my head and exiting his office.
I close the door behind me; the mystery man burned into my mind. Why is it that being told to stay away from someone only makes them that much more tempting?
“Still nothing?” I ask, dodging a half-dead shrub.
“Nope,” Keith says on the other end of the line. “We were able to lift prints off that valet ticket, but they belong to the victim and an eighteen-year-old valet that alibied out.”
“Damn,” I say, sidestepping a mud puddle. “I was hoping we’d catch a break early.”