Doc shook his head. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“Negative. I tried to call before we got in the air, but he didn’t answer.”
“You can try him again now.”
“I left a message.” I checked my phone, like I did at least every five minutes, but he hadn’t responded. In fact, the only person I had heard from was the one person I’d hoped to never hear from again.
“Actually, Doc, there is something I’d like to talk to you about.”
“Lay it on me, Landry.”
“There’s a woman…I, uh, went to high school with her. She turned up a few weeks ago, asking for my help. Abusive marriage.”
“And?”
“I tried to get her to go to a shelter. She didn’t want any part of that.”
“What did you do instead?”
“My dad had a vacant rental property, so I put her up there. Called in a favor from Ranger Messick, who’s been keeping an eye on her for me.”
“I’m glad she came to you, Tackle. Sounds like there’s more to it, though.”
“She isn’t the kind of person who likes being alone.”
“And she wants you for company.”
“You could say that.”
“What do you know about the husband?”
“I think he’s got connections.”
“Hey, Sharp, got a sec?”
Razor got out of his seat, walked over, and sat down across from Doc and me. Razor was renowned for storing a computer-like database of criminals in his head. The man was uncanny.
“What’s the husband’s name?” Doc asked me.
“Dan Caruso. He lives in Waltham now, but I remember hearing he was from Providence.”
Razor got up, grabbed his laptop, and came back. He sat with it closed, quiet for a few moments. “This guy about your age?” he asked.
“Affirmative.”
“If I remember right, and I always remember right, someone by that name has known ties to Anthony ‘Cadillac’ DeLuca, the current head of the Sabatino family.”
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.
“When she came to you, was it because of a recent incident?” Doc asked.
“Yeah. He’d knocked her around the night before. Black eye, bruises on her arms and torso.”
“Pattern of abuse?”
“Affirmative.”
Razor opened his laptop. “Did she file a police report?”