Sempre (Sempre 1)

“I’d like to speak to my lawyer.”

He pushed his chair back. “I’m sure you would, Vincenzo. It’s nice to officially meet you after spending so many months monitoring you from afar. If you decide you want to talk after all, I think you can figure out how to get ahold of me.”

* * *

The orange jumpsuit was particularly bright under the fluorescent lights of the busy courtroom. Carmine listened to his lawyer argue that there was no probable cause to keep him incarcerated. The judge seemed bored, and as soon as Mr. Borza stopped speaking, he ordered Carmine released and the charges dropped.

He walked out the doors of the jail, finding Celia waiting for him. “Thanks for springing me.”

She smiled. “You shouldn’t have been in there in the first place. Let’s just hope Mr. Borza has as much luck with Vincent and Corrado.”

“How are they? Fuck, where are they?”

“They’re being detained downtown at MCC. They have hearings next week, though, and the lawyers are confident they can get them released.”

Carmine shook his head. “Another week?”

“Unfortunately.”

A tense silence lingered in the car during the drive to the Morettis’ house as that sunk in with Carmine. It wouldn’t be easy, and he’d have to take some big risks if he was going to save Haven. He always said he would sacrifice for her, and that was exactly what he would have to do.

Celia pulled up to the house, but Carmine remained in the car. She realized he wasn’t moving. “You coming inside?”

He could feel tears building up. “I can’t. I, uh . . . There’s somewhere I have to go.”

“Carmine . . .”

“Look, I’ve made mistakes, but I’d never do anything to get any of you hurt.”

“Okay.” She handed him the car keys. “Just be careful, kiddo.”

* * *

Carmine drove straight to Lincoln Park, parking in front of the five-bedroom mansion that sat alone on a hill. He took a deep breath as he made his way onto the porch, his nerves on edge.

He pressed the doorbell, hearing the chimes inside the house. The door was opened swiftly. Standing in front of him was Teresa Capozzi. “Carmine DeMarco? What a surprise! I thought you were locked up with the rest of them.”

“They released me.”

She brought her glass of wine to her lips and gulped the contents. “Well, then. I’m sure Salvatore will be ecstatic to see you. He’s upstairs with Carlo. Do you know him? Lovely man. Second door on the right.”

Carmine brushed by her without replying and headed upstairs. He hesitated in front of the closed door, hearing arguing inside. He couldn’t make out their words, but Sal sounded irate. Carmine briefly reconsidered, unsure of how he would do what he had come to do, but forced himself to knock. He had no time to waste.

The bickering silenced immediately. The door was yanked open, an annoyed Salvatore appearing in the doorway. He froze, surprise flashing across his face. “Principe! I thought you were my dreadful wife coming to nag me some more. Come in.”

Carmine stepped past him into the vast room, seeing a man in a chair off to the side. The guy stood and turned toward him, and Carmine balked at his disfigured face. A strange sensation hit Carmine, a rush of bitter cold running from his head down to his toes.

Lovely man? He didn’t fucking think so.

Carlo left without a word, and Salvatore shut the door. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” he asked, sitting at his desk as Carmine slipped into an empty chair.

“I think you know why I’m here, so we can cut the bullshit.”

Salvatore’s smile fell. “You always were a bold one. Most people wouldn’t dare come to me like this, but you have guts. That kind of commitment is rare nowadays.”

“I have to find her,” Carmine said. “No matter what.”

“I respect that.” Salvatore pulled out a cigar, lighting it and taking a deep puff before continuing. “I wish I could help you.”