“Don’t lie to me.” He grabbed the petite woman with short dark hair and large wounded eyes and wrenched her forward. “She stopped by here today, right, Emilia?”
“Don’t fucking touch me, Gian. I don’t want anything to do with this. I already told you everything I know.”
“Well then, you shouldn’t have covered for her today,” Gian growled. “I can’t believe we trusted you. You’ve always been a back-stabbing bitch.” His withering stare cut back to me. “Now, tell me where my sister is, Trincher. You’re one of the last people to see her other than Emilia, and I can’t believe a word out of her mouth.”
“I already told you she’s not here. You can check for yourself,” I said, gesturing for him to come inside and search my home.
“Stay out here and keep an eye out for anything unusual.” He stalked inside, his hand still wrapped around Emilia’s wrist, kicking the door shut with his foot. He pointed at a barstool in my kitchen. “Sit here, and keep your mouth shut unless I ask a question.”
“Carmela! Carmela!” Gian called, hauling his crazy ass from room to room. Doors banged shut. Chairs clattered to the floor. He could tear my fucking house apart for all I cared. He wouldn’t find anything here.
I folded my arms across my chest when he reappeared. “Are you satisfied?”
“Tell me where she is, Trincher. I’m coming outta my fuckin’ skin. Evie doesn’t think you’d hurt her, but—”
“Are you serious? I wouldn’t hurt her. Look, Gian, Carmela stopped by today. We talked and she left. I never saw that chick, whatever her name is. She came alone and she left an hour later. She told me she’d contact me tomorrow. That’s all I know.”
Gian’s shoulders slumped. “What about your father? Carmela told me about the deal she made with you guys. Would he go after her?”
“My father doesn’t know shit about any of this. I told him I had it under control, and he hasn’t brought up Carmela in weeks.”
He hadn’t, which under normal circumstances would scare the shit out of me. The quieter my father got on a subject frequently meant he had something in the works. This time he’d been caught up in the new business deals with the DiTonnos. He’d flown to Paris three days ago to meet with his Russian contacts. He wanted to sort out the additional shipment of cars along with some other deals he had in the works.
“Did you see her after she left my house?” I asked Emilia.
“Yeah,” Emilia replied. “She went to Nico’s house and I had coffee down the street. When she didn’t come back, I called Gian. That’s all I know. I’ve told Gian the same thing a hundred and one times, and he insists on dragging me all over town.”
“Did anyone talk to Nico?”
“Of course I did. I’m not a fucking imbecile. He didn’t know anything. According to him, Carmela stopped by. They fought. She left. He didn’t have much to add. He was drunk off his ass.”
Nico was a psychopath. I didn’t believe a word out of his mouth. If he hurt Carmela, I would slice him into little pieces and hand deliver his rotting corpse to his next of kin.
“And you believe him?”
“You know what? Fuck you. This is a waste of time. Evie thought this was a good idea. I have no idea why I listened to her. You’re a selfish prick.” He waved to Emilia. “Let’s go.”
“Wait.” I grabbed his shoulder. “Tell me what you know, and I’ll do what I can to help.”
He studied me, without a doubt weighing whether he could trust me. He scrubbed his hand down his unshaven face. “I don’t know how you can help. You were my last lead. Carmela and Evie haven’t been that close lately so she didn’t have much information, and I don’t know many of her friends from school. I went through her cell phone contacts, and no one knew a damn thing.”
My throat thickened and I nodded grimly. “Does she have any enemies?”
“Not that I know of.” He paced. “Until recently, she mostly kept to herself. Ya know?”
My mind scrambled through my conversations with Carmela only to come up empty. She had a couple of friends she mentioned in passing and the one who let us use the family restaurant. Other than that, she had her family…and her family’s enemies.
My head snapped up. “Renzo DiTonno.”
“What?
“Renzo DiTonno,” I repeated. “You know, Marco’s brother.”
“What about him?”
“He harassed her at one of my clubs. Got in her face and roughed her up a bit. He was ranting about the Trassatos killing his brother.”