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Carmine grabbed his backpack before strolling to the teacher’s desk. Mr. Landon erased the board and turned, caught off guard to see him. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I wondered if you could explain mtDNA.”
Mr. Landon pursed his lips. “We covered that at the beginning of the semester.”
“I know, but I’m a bit confused.”
Truthfully, he hadn’t paid a damn bit of attention. Carmine always relied on luck and common sense to pass his classes, and most of the time he had just enough of both to get by.
“Well, unlike nuclear DNA, mtDNA isn’t unique to us. We share it with our mothers.”
“So my mtDNA would be the same as my mom’s?”
“Yes, just as it’s the same as her mother, and her mother’s mother, and so on.”
“But can men be traced through it? I mean, say mine was tested. Who would it match?”
“People related to your mother. Whatever your mtDNA, it came directly from the maternal side.”
Carmine was stunned. He’d naturally assumed the test had something to do with Haven’s father and his connections to the mob, never considering it could deal with Haven’s mom.
“Is that all you needed?” Mr. Landon asked.
“Yeah.” He hesitated. “Actually, no. Do you know anything about GPS?”
“What specifically do you want to know?”
“Is there a way to disable a signal?”
“Well, there are ways to block them,” he said. “GPS chips need a line of sight to the satellite tracking them, so any big obstruction will keep the signal from getting out. Also, reflective materials like water or metal can cause the signal to bounce back.”
“Is it the same for tracking chips in people?”
Mr. Landon snickered. “That’s science fiction. Human tracking chips don’t exist.”
Bullshit. Just because the FDA hadn’t approved them didn’t mean they weren’t out there. “Hypothetically speaking. If a person had one implanted under their skin, is there a way they could keep from being found?”
“They could stay in a windowless room or learn to breathe underwater. Otherwise, it would connect to the satellite as soon as they stepped into the open.”
“So basically becoming a prisoner or drowning is the only way to disrupt it.”
“I’d think so, yes. There’s no way to say for certain, though, since it’s completely hypothetical.”
“Thanks.”
He turned to leave when Mr. Landon called his name. “Your inquisitiveness gives me hope for you, so keep it up.”
Carmine smiled to himself as he walked out. While his teacher was proud, his father would flip if he knew he’d asked those questions.
* * *
Vincent slowed the car as he neared the tall brick house, swinging a sharp right into the driveway. He parked behind the red convertible and climbed out, locking it and setting an alarm.
The neighborhood was decent, not too much crime in that part of town. He wasn’t worried about any of the locals, as they’d have to be foolish to step foot onto the property uninvited. Everyone around there was well aware la famiglia controlled the streets, just as they knew Vincent’s position of authority and the power he held. They respected him for it. Most of them didn’t like him, but he didn’t care about their personal feelings.
For the moment Vincent stepped into the streets, his emotions didn’t exist anymore. He had no compassion, no sympathy, no empathy, and no remorse. He couldn’t. And the longer he spent in Chicago, the colder he grew.
It was one of those warm spring nights that Maura had always enjoyed, where she could open all the windows and let the breeze blow through. He used to complain about how hot she let the house get. He’d been temperamental then, and many times he wished he could go back and erase his scathing words.
