Corrado’s eyes found Carmine’s after a moment, so dark they were nearly black, with not a single flicker of emotion registering. It sent an uncomfortable chill down Carmine’s spine, the affection he had started to feel quickly replaced once more with apprehension. Carmine wondered if Corrado could sense it too, because he turned away. He limped slightly as he grabbed their bags again and disappeared upstairs without having uttered a single word.
Carmine had no idea what to say, and Vincent and Haven appeared just as speechless, but as expected, Dominic let nothing slip by. “Damn, we can’t even get a hello?”
Celia smiled sadly. “Don’t take it personally. He’s still getting his bearings. Give him some time and he’ll come around.”
From the look on Vincent’s face, Carmine suspected his father didn’t believe that.
3
The sun had started to set when they settled into the family room that evening to watch a movie. Long shadows stretched across the floor, accented by the colored lights twinkling from the tree. Dominic ordered Chinese food before calling his girlfriend, Tess, to come over. She, too, was in town from Notre Dame and arrived within a matter of minutes, squeezing beside Dominic in a chair with a bowl of popcorn in her lap. Haven and Carmine lounged on the couch, sitting so close their arms touched. Celia had excused herself to join her husband, while Vincent claimed to have some work to do upstairs.
“What’s Dr. DeMarco doing?” Haven asked quietly, leaning closer to Carmine. “He’s never around anymore.”
“Yeah, I think he’s up to something.”
“Like what?”
“I wish I knew,” he said. “But desperate times call for desperate measures, so whatever it is has gotta be drastic.”
“You think there’s trouble?” she asked, a tinge of panic in her voice.
He laughed dryly. “When isn’t there?”
A string of loud knocks vibrated the front door. They all glanced around at one another, nobody making a move to answer it. Carmine stood, shaking his head. “Don’t everyone get up at the same time.”
“I would’ve gotten it,” Haven said, “but I don’t have any money.”
“I know,” he said. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay.”
“Thanks, DeMarco,” Tess said, tossing a piece of popcorn across the room at him. “At least you’re good for something.”
He flashed his middle finger at her.
Tess scrunched up her nose. “You can shove that finger up your ass.”
“Fuck you.”
Carmine headed for the foyer and pulled out his wallet to sort through his cash. The person at the door banged impatiently, loud and forceful. “Christ, I’m coming. Who do you think you are, pounding like the fucking—?”
He froze abruptly when he opened the door, his gaze falling on a shiny gold badge held up at eye level. “Police,” the officer said stoically.
Carmine’s response was immediate. “I have nothing to say.”
“You don’t even know what I want,” the officer said with a sharp laugh, amused by Carmine’s reaction. “I’m Detective Jack Baranski. Is there a girl named Haven here?”
“Why?” Carmine asked.
“I’d like to talk to her about a boy named Nicholas Barlow.”
Carmine’s muscles immediately seized up, his heart pounding aggressively as a brutal vision of his former friend forced its way to the front of his mind.
The loud bang of a gunshot ringing out in the distance. A piercing scream cutting through the air. Nicholas dropping to his knees and clutching his chest as he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. There was nothing but strangled silence. He was gone within a matter of seconds.
Dead.
Fucking dead.
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” the detective said when Carmine didn’t respond. “May I come in?”