He hadn’t even allowed Carlo to get a sentence of protest out. He’d said, simply, “Let’s go. I’ll drive,” and held his hands out for Carlo’s keys. Even in the midst of his rage and panic, Carlo had seen that his friend was back as well as his partner, and he’d been grateful.
Pete dropped him off at the ER entrance and then went off to park. Carlo tore into the hospital and, when the elevator wasn’t right there waiting for him, he ran up four flights of stairs to the surgery wing, where his family was gathered.
Jenny had taken his son. And Bina had let her. Joey had failed to protect Trey, and Bina had turned him over.
As he ran into the waiting room, he saw everyone—his siblings, his father, the Uncles and their wives, Nick, even Mrs. D. Everybody but Rosa. They were all in the waiting room. Waiting. He couldn’t believe that here was where everybody was. Here, at the hospital, with Joey. Joey, who wasn’t missing. Why was no one looking for his son?
Four cops were in the room, too—two uniforms from Quiet Cove and two suited detectives, a man and a woman, from who the fuck knew. Feds, maybe, with a child abduction? They were all in a group, talking amongst themselves, which indicated to Carlo that they’d done all the interviewing of his family that they intended to do here.
One of the uniforms was Irv Lumley, Quiet Cove Chief of Police. Irv and Carlo’s father had a long, friendly history. They’d gone to school together. He got along with the Uncles, too. The other uniform was an officer Carlo didn’t recognize.
Bina saw him first and began to come to him. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t look at her or touch her or anything, not now, not yet. He couldn’t think for the klaxon going off in his head, and he must have sent her a look that conveyed his state of mind, because she stopped suddenly, halfway to him, and he saw pain and guilt in her swollen eyes. She’d been crying heavily.
Luca and Carmen, too, both looked like they’d intended to come over, but Carlo shook his head. He wasn’t ready for his family.
He went instead to Chief Lumley and his law enforcement buddies. “Irv—what’s going on?”
Irv put his hand on Carlo’s shoulder. “Hey, Carlo. We don’t know much yet.” He turned to the Feds. “This is the boy’s father, Carlo Pagano Jr. Carlo, these are Agents Darby and Kohl from the FBI. And this is a new officer of mine, Trent Lincoln.”
Carlo made a show of giving a shit about any of the people’s names and turned back to Irv. “What’s going on?”
Agent Darby, the female Fed, spoke up, cutting Irv from his answer. “How much do you know?” She was tall and blonde, probably decent-looking when she wasn’t trying so hard to look like a Fed. But her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and her blue suit was cut to show nothing of her body.
“That my ex-wife ran off with my son. And shot my brother. That’s it. I want to know more.”
“You’re divorced?”
“Yes. Annulled. What’s going on?”
“When was the marriage officially ended?”
“It was all finalized about five months ago. Almost six, now. Are you going to answer me at all?”
“At this point, Mr. Pagano, we have no answers. Our questions will help us get some. What is the custody and visitation arrangement between you and your ex-wife?”
“There is none. She has no custody at all. No visitation at all. She has no right to him at all. Nothing.”
Agent Darby’s eyes went wide. “Must have been a nasty battle.”
“No. She didn’t want him. It was her idea.”
The agents glanced at each other. Darby looked across the room, where Uncle Ben and Uncle Lorrie were standing with Aunt Angie and Aunt Betty and his father. When Darby looked back at Carlo, there was a skeptical glint in her eye. “She gave her son up of her own free will?”
“Yes. She did. She ran off in the night. She left a note saying she wanted nothing except to be away from us both.”
“And Sabina Auberon. She was with your son at the time of the abduction. How does she fit into this equation?” That question came from the other Fed…Kohl, Carlo remembered. He was short and stocky, salt and pepper hair going thin in the usual way. He looked like an asshole. Both agents did, frankly.
“She’s my…girlfriend, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I know. Just a weird word at my age. But that’s what she is.”