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“Oh, uh, I know they have her, but I haven’t looked around. I’ve only gone in twice, and I never went past the doorway.”
“You haven’t seen her at all?”
He shook his head frantically as headlights of an approaching car flashed in their direction. They all tensed as the black BMW crept down the street. Vincent stalked to the front of the building cautiously, watching as it stopped less than a block away. The passenger door opened and a person hopped out before the car pulled out of sight.
Vincent’s eyes widened when the person stepped under a streetlight, giving him a clear view of his son. Carmine haphazardly approached the building, clutching a gun in his shaking hand.
Corrado groaned. “Stop him.”
Vincent sprinted across the street when Carmine went for the door. His hand grasped the handle as Vincent reached him, and Carmine turned in his direction.
“Da—” he started, but Vincent dragged him away before he could react. He cursed and stumbled. “What the fuck? She might be in there!”
“Keep your voice down,” Vincent said. “You can’t just walk in.”
“What else am I supposed to do?” he asked, frantic. “Do you know how long it’s been? Do you know how long she’s been gone? I have to find her!”
o;How can you say that? Our women are to be respected; we’re supposed to protect them! It’s part of the oath; it’s one of our commandments! How is that not your problem? It’s all of our problem!”
The room fell into a tense silence, and everyone stared at Vincent, stunned. Corrado spoke before the strain could grow. “If you don’t mind, I think we should catch up with Carmine.”
“Yes, do that,” Salvatore said. “Use whatever you need.”
Corrado stood. “Come on.”
Vincent pushed his chair back and followed Corrado out of the room. Whispers started as he exited, but Salvatore demanded silence right away. Vincent shouldn’t have reacted, but he was so disgusted he couldn’t stop himself. Everything he had done had been in vain, a waste of time and energy, because Carmine ended up exactly where he had tried to keep him from going.
And the girl certainly hadn’t been saved.
“You must want to die,” Corrado said, walking through the house. “Speaking to him that way will get you killed.”
Corrado opened a door to a back room and stepped inside. He opened cabinet doors and grabbed weapons, tossing Vincent two .45 Smith & Wessons before pulling out two guns for himself, slipping them into his coat along with more ammunition.
* * *
Giovanni lived not far from Salvatore. The house was empty when Corrado and Vincent arrived, so Corrado slipped around the back and kicked in the door. The two of them headed straight to Giovanni’s office and rifled through drawers and files, looking for anything they might have dug up.
Corrado found a map of Chicago and unfolded it on the desk beside him. Areas of it were circled and crossed out, the entire thing riddled with writing. Vincent recognized some of it as his son’s, the sloppy words scribbled with a frenzied hand.
“They have Ivan’s properties pinpointed on the map, but there’s no way they would’ve taken Haven somewhere with his name on the deed,” Corrado said. “He’s smarter than that. He would’ve found somewhere close to home but far enough away to keep the two separate. Somewhere remote where there’s no chance of her being stumbled upon, but not so isolated that their traffic would draw curious eyes. Somewhere people mind their own business.”
“You would’ve made a good detective,” Vincent mused.
Corrado shot him an incredulous look. “Just because I understand the mind of a criminal doesn’t mean I’d be a good cop.”
“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Vincent said, scrolling through the computer’s history. “You wouldn’t last a day before you got an excessive force complaint.”
Corrado stared at him in silence for a moment before turning to the map, and Vincent focused his attention on Giovanni’s computer. Numerous addresses and names had been searched, but nothing stood out as important.
Corrado pointed to a section of map circled with a pencil. “What’s on this side of Austin?”
“Nothing that I know of,” Vincent said. “Bad neighborhood, a lot of gang activity. Most of the businesses moved out of the area, so there are a lot of vacant buildings.”
“That’s what I thought,” Corrado said. “It’s a money pit, yet Natalia Volkov owns property there.”
“Ivan’s daughter? Isn’t she still a teenager?”
“I believe she just turned nineteen.”
