Chương 10
Raul set the tool down. “Tell who what?”
Rocco leaned against a steel workbench.
Nina held up the photograph of the van. “Tell him how you sold Ghost.”
Raul’s eyes closed.
The admission was contained in that small movement.
A mechanic at the far end of the bay turned off a radio. Another found a reason to walk outside.
Raul wiped his hands on his trousers. “Your mother told you.”
“Tell me.”
“I was in trouble.”
“You were always in trouble.”
“I owed people.”
“You owed everyone.”
“These men were not everyone.”
“So you gave them my dog.”
“They said he would be trained.”
“He was eighteen months old.”
“He was strong.”
“He trusted you.”
Raul looked down.
Nina stepped closer. “Did he fight?”
Raul’s mouth tightened.
“Did he?”
“He would not get in the van.”
The repair bay blurred.
“What did you do?”
“I lifted him.”
“He weighed ninety pounds.”
“I know.”
“Did he bite you?”
“No.”
“Because he trusted you.”
Raul’s eyes filled. He looked away.
Rocco remained silent.
“I told myself they wanted a guard dog,” Raul said. “Dominic’s man said rich people paid for animals like him. He had the chest mark. He looked different.”
“Dominic Vella?”
Raul nodded.
“Did you meet him?”
“Once. Later.”
“Where?”
“A kennel near Newburgh.”
Rocco straightened.
Raul continued, words coming faster now. “They used me for pickups. Two, maybe three months. Dogs from yards, apartments, sometimes shelters. Big breeds. Shepherds, mastiffs, Rottweilers. Dogs people would pay for after training.”
Nina could hear Ghost’s broken whine in the penthouse.
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“How many, Raul?”
“Seventeen. Maybe twenty.”
Rocco took out his phone.
Raul backed away. “No.”
“You will give me the address,” Rocco said.
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“Dominic will kill me.”
Nina’s voice was quiet. “What do you think he did to Ghost?”
Raul’s face folded.
He sat on an overturned bucket and covered his mouth.
“I went once after,” he said. “I wanted more money. I heard a dog screaming. Dominic said training was supposed to hurt.”
Nina gripped the photograph until it bent.
“Did you see Ghost?”
“He was in a concrete run. He had no collar. There was blood on his neck.”
Rocco moved before Nina did.
He crossed the space, grabbed Raul’s shirt, and pulled him off the bucket.
Nina touched Rocco’s arm.
“Don’t.”
Rocco looked at her.
“If you hit him,” she said, “he gets to become afraid instead of responsible.”
Rocco released Raul.
Raul sagged against the wall.
“You have records?” Nina asked.
“No.”
“Messages?”
“Old phone is gone.”
“Payments?”
Raul rubbed his face. “Maybe a bank statement. First payment came through a company. DV Risk Consulting.”
Rocco typed the name.
“What happened to the kennel?” he asked.
“Dominic moved it. Somewhere north. I don’t know where.”
“You will remember.”
“I swear—”
Rocco stepped closer.
Nina said, “Stop.”
He stopped.
Raul looked at her as if he expected forgiveness because she had prevented violence.
She gave him none.
“Find the bank statement,” she said. “Write everything down. Every name, address, van, phone number. Then you go to the police.”
Raul stared at her. “Dominic owns cops.”
“Then go to a lawyer first.”
“I don’t have money for a lawyer.”
“Neither did I. Somehow you found money when you sold my dog.”
“Nina, please.”
She bent until they were eye level.
“You don’t get to ask me for comfort because telling the truth scares you.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
She left him in the repair bay.
Lorenzo was waiting in the penthouse dining room when Nina arrived.
The broken porcelain had been cleared. The sauce was gone. On the marble, where Ghost had crouched, a faint pink shadow remained between two white veins.
Lorenzo held the photograph of the van.
“You disobeyed a direct instruction,” he said.
“I wasn’t aware I worked for you.”
“You endangered yourself.”
“I found the man who stole Ghost.”
“My people would have found him.”
“They didn’t for six years.”
“They were not looking.”
“Exactly.”
Ghost ran to her from the hallway. She dropped to her knees and pressed her face against his neck.
Lorenzo watched.
After a moment, Nina stood. “Where is Dominic?”
“His apartment is empty. His passports are gone.”
“You let him know you were checking.”
“I asked him a question.”
“Men like him hear questions as alarms.”
Lorenzo’s eyes hardened. “You have known him for how long?”
“Long enough to recognize cowardice.”
“You dated Raul.”
The cruelty of it was precise.
Nina’s hand tightened in Ghost’s fur.
Rocco, standing near the doorway, looked down.
Lorenzo regretted the sentence. She saw it.
He did not apologize.
She almost preferred that.
“You’re right,” she said. “I loved someone who sold the only thing in my life that depended on me. So perhaps I’m an expert.”
Ghost leaned into her leg.
Lorenzo crossed to a locked cabinet and removed a black ledger sealed inside a plastic evidence sleeve.
“Dominic kept records,” he said.
Nina stared at it. “You found this?”
“In an office he believed I did not know about.”
“Did you steal it?”
“It belonged to a company I own.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“No.”
The answer surprised her.
He placed the ledger on the table and opened it with gloved hands.
Each page contained dates, codes, amounts, breed abbreviations, and short descriptions.
MAL/GSD, male, dock theft.
CANE, female, owner surrendered through proxy.
ROTT, male, crescent chest, domestic reacquisition.
Beside the last entry was a number matching the payment Lorenzo had made.
“Domestic reacquisition,” Nina read.
“A phrase designed to mean nothing.”
“It means stolen.”
“Yes.”
Farther down the page, another notation read CHIP EXT. FAILED RESET 2X.
Nina looked at Ghost.
He stood beside her, panting softly.
“What is reset?” she asked.
Lorenzo did not answer.
Rocco did. “Breaking prior attachments.”
The room seemed to lose air.
Nina touched the scar beneath Ghost’s collar.
“Who trained him?”
“Dominic supervised,” Lorenzo said. “A man named Warren Pike operated the kennel.”
May you like
“Where?”
“We are working on it.”
