If The Seas Catch Fire(40)

Dom hated himself for it, but he said, “If you aren’t able to make those payments, then we’ll need to talk about employing you down at the marina.”

Dingxiang blanched. Every immigrant in Cape Swan knew what marina employment meant, and only the most desperate accepted those jobs. “Next… next month will be on time.”

Dom nodded. “Good.”

Dingxiang left the office, and Dom let Daisy know that he too was on his way out, and that he’d likely be out for the rest of the day. Even if the meeting was short, which they usually were, he had a feeling he’d be indisposed for a while.



*



Felice and Luciano were already there with their father.

Corrado scowled. “Glad you could join us, Domenico.”

Dom muttered an apology. He hadn’t been late, but Corrado didn’t like to be kept waiting, and “be there in one hour” meant “one hour is the absolute latest or there will be hell to pay.”

Corrado shifted his attention to his older son. “Luciano?” He nodded toward Dom.

Luciano turned to Dom. “We have the detailed police and medical examiner reports for Nicolá.” He handed over a thin folder. “You’re going to want to see this.”

Dom opened the folder and skimmed over the police report. “It says the ME found evidence he’d been tied. And that he’d had tape over his mouth.” He lifted his gaze. “I thought Cusimano wiped him out while he was drunk.”

“Well.” Corrado slowly released a breath. “Maybe as drunk as he was, this killing wasn’t as accidental as it appears.”

“Of course it wasn’t an accident,” Felice said. “Why the hell would Nicolá be wandering around the highway at that hour?”

Luciano muffled a cough. “That’s where it gets a little more complicated, though. The ME found traces of Ecstasy and a number of other drugs in his mouth and in his bloodstream. Basically, a cocktail of hallucinogens and downers. It’s anyone’s guess what else was in there that he’d already gotten out of his system.”

Dom tilted his head. “Since when did Nicolá get involved in that shit?”

Corrado sighed, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “It’s hard to say, Domenico. Sal Greco overdosed on heroin last year, and none of us ever knew he touched it.”

“But if Nicolá was bound and drugged,” Dom said, “then it’s pretty clearly murder.” Bile burned its way up the back of his throat. If one of their own had been murdered, then Corrado wouldn’t let that murder go unanswered. And Dom wouldn’t be able to say no. It was as inevitable as it was sickening.

“Unless he was into one of those weird sex clubs that have been popping up downtown,” Luciano said.

“No way,” Felice said. “Nicolá wouldn’t go near a place like that.”

Luciano eyed him. “You don’t know—”

“Nicolá was last seen alive at church!” Felice said. “They found his goddamned car there.”

“Yes. He was there several hours before the estimated time of death. He could have gone anywhere with anyone during that time, and the ME thinks he’d been drugged for quite some time before he was killed.”

Felice shook his head. “No way in hell he’d go from there to… one of those places. And even if he did, Eugenio Cusimano still ran him down on the highway.”

“Question is,” Luciano said softly, “was it deliberate?”

Felice slammed his fist down on the desk. “Whether he meant to do it or not, this is murder. We have got to send a message to the Cusimanos, and take out—”

“I know what we need to do, Felice,” Corrado said coolly.

Gritting his teeth against the nausea, Dom closed the police report. “There’s got to be a way to settle this without more violence.”

Felice rolled his eyes. “For f*ck’s sake, Dom. What do you want to do? Ask them to write a heartfelt apology?” He laughed, shaking his head. “We gotta send a message here, not * foot around.”

“No,” Dom said. “But as volatile as things have been lately, this could snowball into a shootout right in the middle of downtown.”

“Felice is right, Domenico.” Corrado glanced at his younger son, then shifted his gaze to Dom. “Whether Nicolá was killed deliberately or not, we have conclusive proof he was killed by Eugenio Cusimano. I’m not interested in his intent. I’m interested in the fact that he’s taken out one of my men. A member of my family.”

“I can have him dead before dawn,” Felice said through gritted teeth. “Just say the—”

His father’s upraised hand stopped him. “You’ll do what you’re ordered to, and nothing more. Am I clear?”

Felice bristled, rocking from his heels to the balls of his feet, but didn’t comment any further. Dom wished like hell Corrado would send his younger son on one of these hits. The only reason he never actually suggested it was that Felice was the kind of psychopath who’d make his mark suffer. At least taking the job himself, Dom could end it quickly, cleanly, and painlessly. Felice would torture the guy for hours. Like father, like son.

“Eugenio Cusimano killed Nicolá Cannizzaro,” Corrado went on, calmly and evenly. “This will not go unanswered. If Nicolá’s death goes unpunished, the Cusimanos will think they can take out Maisanos with impunity. Felice is right—we need to send a message. A strong one.”