“No, sir,” he said quickly, squeezing his eyes shut at his words. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
Corrado put the gun away and let go of Carmine. “There’s no justification for you following me. Where I’m going doesn’t concern you.”
“Doesn’t it?” he asked, trying to stop trembling as he stood up straight. “If you’re going where I think you’re going—”
“What did I just say?” Corrado asked. “I told you in Durante to make your decision and you did. You need to be a man of your word.”
“So I’m right?” he asked exasperatedly. “You’re going to her?”
“You have no right to intervene.”
“I’m not trying to intervene,” he said, shaking his head. “I just . . . Christ, I wanna know where she is, what she’s doing. Why the fuck you’re running off in the middle of the night. Is something wrong? Is she hurt or something?”
Corrado stared at him as he rattled off questions, his expression blank, but Carmine could see the annoyance in his eyes. He knew he shouldn’t have been questioning him, but he needed something, anything . . . just a bit of information to keep him going.
Glancing at his watch, Corrado sighed impatiently. He looked as if he were going to speak and hope swelled through Carmine, but it was trampled when he instead raised his gun again. Carmine recoiled as his uncle fired off two shots in his direction, the unexpected noise startling him. Carmine turned to look incredulously, seeing the driver’s side tires of his car rapidly deflating.
“If you’re going to tail someone, at least be discreet about it.” Corrado placed the gun back in his coat. “Call for a tow truck and go home. I don’t need you slowing me down any more than you already have.”
“Just fucking great,” Carmine muttered as his uncle walked away.
Corrado paused. “That’s an order, Carmine.”
20
Haven nervously watched the clock, waiting for the black rental car to slowly pull up the street. It parked in a free spot directly in front of the brownstone, and Corrado climbed out, fixing his tie and looking around before heading inside. He tapped once on her door, patiently waiting for her to open up.
She started stammering as soon as he entered, trying to explain what had happened, but he held his hand up to stop her. She flinched from the sudden movement and he froze. “I have no intention of harming you.”
Haven stood still by the door as he checked out the place. The apartment appeared undisturbed and Haven felt ridiculous, wondering if Corrado had flown out for nothing.
“Is your upstairs neighbor home?” he asked.
“Uh, no, not yet,” she said. “Kelsey stayed with a guy last night.”
“Look around and tell me if anything has been taken,” he said. “I need to check her apartment and make sure neither of you have been bugged.”
“Yes, sir.”
She sorted through things, taking inventory, and found nothing missing. Even the cash she kept in a drawer was still there. Always use cash, Corrado had said, never leave a paper trail.
Corrado came back downstairs after a bit, leaving the door open a crack as he lingered near it. “The place is clean. Anything missing down here?”
“No,” she replied. “I don’t really own anything valuable, though.”
“Value doesn’t always equal a monetary amount,” he said. “No diaries?”
She shook her head before it dawned on her. “Oh, crap!”
Darting into the living room, she scanned the bookshelf and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the worn leather book amongst the others. “I have Maura’s.”
Haven turned to him and started to speak, to ask what she should do, when the front door thrust open, catching Haven off guard. She gasped as Corrado turned, reaching into his coat for his gun. He clutched it but didn’t pull it out as Kelsey appeared in the doorway, her eyes darting between Haven and Corrado.
“Who’s the DILF?” she asked, leaving the door wide open as she motioned toward Corrado. Her eyes scanned him, a small smile coming upon her lips.
Haven’s cheeks flushed. “Kelsey . . .”
“Is this your missing friend?” Corrado asked. “The one that lives upstairs?”
“Missing?” Kelsey’s brow furrowed. “Are you a cop or something?”
Corrado glanced at her. “Do I look like a cop?”
“Sort of,” she said. “I mean, you do have a gun.”
Corrado immediately removed his hand from his weapon, covering it again with his coat.
“He’s . . .” Haven started, unsure of how to explain it.
“Corrado,” he said, finishing her statement as he politely held out his hand.
“Kelsey,” she said, shaking it. “Obviously you already know that, though.”
“Yes. If you’ll excuse me, I need to make a phone call.”
He walked to the kitchen, pulling out his phone. The moment he was out of earshot, Kelsey jokingly punched Haven’s arm. “Where the hell did he come from?”
“Uh, I’ve known him for a while,” she mumbled.
“I’m not gonna lie—I was hoping you wouldn’t go home alone last night. I hoped you’d get some of that stiffness knocked out of you, if you know what I mean, but how did you pull that?”
“You think we . . . ?” Haven was stunned. “No way! He’s married!”
“So?” She shrugged. “A man like that needs more than just one woman to take care of him. I can’t believe you spent all night with him and still didn’t get laid.”
“Why do you think I spent all night with him?”
“You have the same clothes on from yesterday,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Did you at least blow him?”