Chương 9
Lorenzo’s mouth tightened.
“What?” Nina asked.
“Dominic’s first company used black vans.”
Rocco looked at him. “Vella Protective.”
“With a silver shield on the side,” Lorenzo said.
Nina felt the floor tilt beneath her.
“That was it.”
Lorenzo turned to Rocco. “Get the box.”
“I’m going with him,” Nina said.
“No.”
“You need me to find it.”
Rocco glanced at the argument forming between them. “She can stay in the car.”
Nina looked at him. “You’re becoming my favorite.”
“I’ll recover.”
Lorenzo finally moved away from the door.
Nina’s mother, Elena, lived in the same Union City apartment where Nina had raised Ghost. The building had been repainted pale yellow, but the back gate still dragged against the concrete. The landlord had replaced the old chain-link fence with vinyl panels.
Nina stood in the alley while Rocco inspected the lock.
“It used to be brass,” she said.
“Locks change.”
“People don’t.”
“People change more often than locks.”
“That sounded almost thoughtful.”
“Do not tell Mr. Castellano.”
Elena opened the back door wearing slippers and a sweater with a Christmas tree on it, though Christmas was three months away.
She saw Nina, then Rocco, then the black sedan idling at the curb.
“No,” she said.
Nina stopped.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean no trouble.”
“I found Ghost.”
Elena gripped the doorframe.
The reaction was too large.
Nina felt it before she understood it.
“You knew,” she said.
Her mother looked past her toward the car.
Rocco stepped backward, giving them distance.
“Elena.”
“Come inside.”
“No.”
“People are watching.”
“Let them.”
Mrs. Santiago’s blinds moved in the second-floor window.
Elena pulled her sweater closed. “It was a long time ago.”
Nina’s mouth went dry. “What was?”
“Raul came here after you went to work.”
The alley narrowed around her.
“He said he was taking Ghost to the park.”
“He never took Ghost anywhere.”
“He had a key.”
“You gave it to him.”
“He was your boyfriend.”
“What happened?”
Elena’s eyes filled. “I heard the gate. Then a van. I came out and Ghost was gone.”
“You told the police you were asleep.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of Raul?”
“Of what he owed.”
Nina stared at her mother.
Rocco remained near the fence, his face turned away, but he could hear every word.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“How much did he sell my dog for?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do.”
Elena wiped her palms against the Christmas tree on her sweater. “Two thousand.”
Nina laughed once, the same terrible sound she had made in the penthouse.
“Two thousand.”
“Raul said the men wanted a large dog. He said they would train him for security.”
“He was already my dog.”
“We were behind on rent.”
Nina stopped breathing.
Elena covered her mouth.
“You took the money.”
“Five hundred.”
Nina looked at the back gate, at the place where she had found Ghost’s red collar lying in dirty rainwater.
“You helped him.”
“I did not know they would hurt him.”
“You lied to me for six years.”
“I saw what looking did to you.”
“What looking did to me?”
“You lost jobs. You gave money to strangers. You stopped sleeping.”
“So you protected me.”
“I was ashamed.”
“No. You were comfortable with me blaming myself.”
Elena shook her head. “That is not fair.”
“Fair?”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“That seems to be everyone’s favorite amount of time.”
Elena reached for her.
Nina stepped back.
Her mother’s hand fell.
Rocco cleared his throat softly. “Ms. Vasquez, we should retrieve the records.”
Nina looked at him. “Did Lorenzo know?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if he did?”
Rocco did not answer quickly enough.
Nina turned and entered the apartment.
The box was in the hall closet beneath winter blankets and a broken lamp. It contained the police report, faded flyers, shelter emails, veterinary receipts, and a printed photograph of the black van.
A silver shield marked the side.
Beneath it were the words VELLA PROTECTIVE SERVICES.
Rocco photographed it.
Nina found Raul’s original statement in the report. He had told police he checked the gate at nine thirty and found it locked. Elena’s statement placed the van in the alley at nine fifteen.
The times had never fit.
Nina had been too frightened, too tired, and too eager to believe him.
“Where is Raul?” Rocco asked.
“Paterson, last I heard.”
Elena stood in the doorway. “He works at an auto shop.”
“Name?”
“Garcia Collision.”
Nina looked at her mother. “You kept track of him?”
“He sends messages sometimes.”
“And you answer?”
“He is sorry.”
Nina placed the report in the box. “Sorry is what people say when they want the person they hurt to carry part of the weight.”
Elena’s face crumpled.
Nina hated herself for finding satisfaction in it.
She carried the box outside without saying goodbye.
In the sedan, Rocco called Lorenzo. He spoke in short phrases, giving only facts.
Nina stared through the window at the back gate.
When the call ended, Rocco said, “Mr. Castellano wants you taken to the penthouse.”
“No.”
“He has information.”
“So do I.”
“He believes Dominic is preparing to leave the country.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
“It became yours six years ago.”
Nina looked at the photograph of the van.
Her anger had become too large to direct. It pressed outward in every direction—at Raul, her mother, Dominic, Lorenzo, herself.
“Take me to Raul,” she said.
Rocco’s expression remained still. “Mr. Castellano said—”
“I heard you.”
“He will not like this.”
“Maybe he should develop other feelings.”
Garcia Collision occupied a low brick building near the Passaic River. Raul Mendez was sanding the door of a blue Honda when Nina walked into the repair bay.
He looked older than thirty-four. His hair had thinned. A pale burn scar marked one wrist. For half a second, his face opened with surprise and something like pleasure.
Then he saw Rocco behind her.
The sanding machine went quiet.
May you like
“Nina.”
“Tell him,” she said.
