“Someone had broken in. Likely those two guys who were in the shop the day you came for the bag,” I said, looking at Christopher.
“Why didn’t I get a call?” Brio’s voice had an edge. But I knew him well enough to know it was hurt, not anger.
“At the time, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
“You pay us for protection,” Christopher said.
“For more serious stuff.”
“For all stuff,” Christopher shot back. “I get you can handle yourself. But the whole point of paying the mob you supposedly are so interested in is to have us handle all this shit.”
“It felt little at the time. But then Robin died. And I remembered how weird her request was.”
“Weird why?” Brio asked.
“The box was maybe worth forty bucks. And she was very anxious about it. Then really relieved when I had possession of it.”
“Something was in the box,” Venezio said.
“Exactly what I had just figured out,” I agreed. “Right before you showed up with Charlotte,” I added.
Christopher’s eyes slid closed.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“You had your own problems.”
“I never have so many problems that I can’t be there if you need me.”
I hated the way my heart flipped at those words, at the sincerity in his voice and on his face.
Fine.
I loved it.
But I was going to pretend otherwise.
“Anyway, I wanted to find the box. It wasn’t where I thought I’d left it. It was in the back. I finally found it.”
“Was it a notebook or a flash drive?” Venezio asked.
“Flash.”
“Did he get it?”
“No. It flew out of my hand and… went somewhere. But it was somewhere behind me and there was no way he could have grabbed it during the fight. Or when he ran out.”
“Lorenzo is sending Nero and Leo over there. No one is getting back in,” Christopher assured me. “We’ll figure out what they were after.”
“What Robin died for.”
“Yeah,” he said, wincing.
“You’re coming home with me,” Brio said.
“What? No.”
“This guy knows where you work. It’s not a stretch to think he might know where you live.”
