CHRISTIAN
“Ican’t believe they’re back here again,” I say to Roman as we pull into the curb fifty yards from Le Petit Café.
“Maybe they like the coffee?” Roman muses.
“Not enough to drive ten miles for it. All they did last time was read the paper… for an hour. It was like watching paint dry, only less interesting.”
“Do you want to go in?” Roman asks.
“Not much point.”
“I wouldn’t mind a coffee,” Roman says.
I give him a look of disgust.
“Their Pastel de Nata are to die for.”
“What the fuck is that?”
“A Portuguese egg custard tart. Cali eats them by the tray. You know, I try to help her out.”
“She’s eating for two,” I point out. “And about to drop any day. You’re literally taking food from a baby. Also, if you start eating trays of Pastel de egg custard, you’ll get fat.”
He chuckles. “Fuck you, Christian. Have you looked in the mirror lately? If you did, you’d realize you need a coffee morethan I need my Portuguese tart. And I’ve got a toddler, and a baby on the way.”
It must be very fucking inconvenient to be in his line of work and having a family. He speaks to Cali a dozen times a day. If she’s not calling him, he’s calling her. I’ve been round their house plenty of times when I’ve needed to pick him up, and she’s a real sweetheart. “You’re in the wrong business for having a family.”
“Yeah, the work hours suck. But it pays well, and they don’t care that I’m an ex-con with a record.”
He has a point.
My cell dings in my pocket, and I pull it out to take a look, expecting orders from Jero.
Dante: I’ve lost the book you left in my apartment. If you happen to find it, let me know.
Well, that’s very fucking cryptic… What book? The last book I read was some classical shit back when I was still in school, and it sent me to sleep… “Fuck!”
“What’s happened? Something going down?” Roman asks.
The ants go from sleepy to swarm in an instant.
“Nothing.”Jesus fucking Christ!“Just my stupid brother. I gave him something valuable, you know? And he’s lost it.”I’m going to kill someone.
Roman rolls his eyes. “Didn’t realize you two spoke to each other that much.”
“I was told to keep him in the loop, what with everything that’s been going on. Not that he’s added any fucking value.” I insert more venom than I intend to, but my mind is pitching into chaos in the wake of the message.
Roman chuckles. “I heard you two didn’t get along.”
I’m going to rip his head from his shoulders and pummel it if he’s really lost Carmela. I shove my cell back in my pocket. “Yeah, you heard right.”
The ants are fucking manic. Acting normally is a challenge. I need to call him and find out what the fuck is going on. That half-cooked message is worse than nothing… Does Ettore already have her?
Does someone else?
Not the Russians. They wouldn’t be sitting reading the paper if they’d just bagged Ettore’s wife.
A woman walks past the car on the sidewalk beside me, and something about her catches my attention.
