Chapter 2 - The Name Mia Never Wanted to Say
Enzo stared at Mia.
“Answer me.”
Mia looked around the restaurant.
“Not here.”
“You know something about my sister.”
It wasn't a question.
Mia turned to Paul.
“I need to leave.”
Paul nodded immediately.
“I'll cover you.”
Enzo's gaze remained fixed on her.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“No.”
Mia blinked.
“Excuse me?”
“Preston Hale threatened you in front of sixty witnesses. You're not going anywhere he knows to look.”
“You don't know where I live.”
“He does.”
That stopped her.
Enzo nodded toward the windows.
Across Atlantic Avenue, a black SUV sat beneath the rain.
Engine running.
Mia's face drained.
Enzo said, “My car is downstairs.”
“I don't get into cars with mafia bosses.”
“That's probably a good policy.”
“Then we're agreed.”
“We're also standing inside a restaurant while Hale's people watch the door.”
Mia looked at Daniel.
Enzo softened his voice.
“Bring the boy.”
Twenty minutes later, Mia sat in the rear of a dark sedan with Daniel beside her.
Enzo sat opposite them.
A driver named Luca pulled into traffic.
Mia folded her arms.
“Where are we going?”
“One of my buildings.”
“Of course you have buildings.”
“I have several.”
“Congratulations.”
Enzo almost smiled.
Then his expression hardened.
“Rosa.”
Mia looked at Daniel.
Enzo understood.
“Does he know?”
“He knows more than I wish he did.”
“Who is Preston Hale to you?”
Mia stared through the rain-streaked window.
“He was my husband.”
Enzo's eyes sharpened.
“Was?”
“Annulled.”
“You were married to Hale?”
“For eleven months.”
“And Daniel?”
Mia held the boy closer.
“My son.”
Enzo waited.
Mia looked directly at him.
“Preston is his biological father.”
The car went quiet.
“He hit his own son.”
“He doesn't think of Daniel as a son. He thinks of people as possessions.”
“What happened two years ago?”
Mia's head snapped up.
“How do you know it was two?”
“The boy stopped speaking two years ago. You said it at the restaurant.”
“I didn't.”
Enzo glanced toward Paul’s voice still echoing in his memory.
“You told Mrs. Caruso he hadn't spoken in almost two years.”
Mia exhaled.
“You hear everything?”
“It's kept me alive.”
Mia looked down.
“Daniel saw Preston hurt someone.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“It happened at Preston's house in Brookline. I heard shouting. Daniel was supposed to be asleep.”
Daniel's hand tightened.
Mia continued.
“I found him at the top of the stairs. Preston's security men were dragging a man through the foyer.”
“Alive?”
“At first.”
Enzo's expression darkened.
“Then?”
“A gunshot outside.”
Daniel flinched.
Mia stopped immediately.
Enzo noticed.
“No more tonight.”
Mia looked surprised.
“You're not going to interrogate him?”
“He's seven.”
“Preston didn't care.”
“I'm not Preston.”
They arrived at a brick townhouse in the North End.
Inside, Enzo's men checked every floor.
Mia stood near the door.
“I still haven't told you about Rosa.”
Enzo faced her.
“I'm aware.”
“In Preston's office there was a locked drawer.”
“How'd you open it?”
“I was his wife.”
“That doesn't answer the question.”
“I stole the key.”
A faint smile appeared.
“Continue.”
“There were photographs. Women. Addresses. Churches. Shelters.”
Enzo stopped breathing for a second.
“One photograph was different.”
“Rosa.”
Mia nodded.
“She was standing beside a silver sedan outside a church.”
“Which church?”
“Saint Leonard's.”
Enzo's eyes turned cold.
The same church where Rosa disappeared.
“What was written on the photograph?”
“Rosa Marra. Sunday. 10:42.”
Enzo stepped away.
Seven years.
Seven years of police reports, informants, threats, favors, money.
And a waitress had just given him more than the Boston Police Department ever had.
“Why didn't you tell anyone?”
“I did.”
Enzo turned.
Mia's voice broke only slightly.
“I went to a detective.”
“Name.”
“Gavin Mercer.”
Enzo became completely still.
Mercer.
The detective assigned to Rosa's disappearance.
“The next morning Preston knew.”
Mia swallowed.
“He told me if I ever mentioned Rosa again, Daniel would disappear just as easily as she did.”
Enzo's eyes changed.
Mia saw something frightening.
Not rage.
Certainty.
She stepped toward him.
“Don't do anything stupid.”
Enzo looked at her.
“People don't usually say that to me.”
“Then maybe they should.”
He studied her for several seconds.
“Is there anything else?”
“Yes.”
Daniel pulled a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket.
Mia stared.
“Danny?”
The boy handed it to Enzo.
It was a crude child's drawing.
A black car.
A house.
A man.
And beside the man, a small red flower.
Enzo looked at Daniel.
The boy tapped the flower.
Then Enzo's rose tattoo.
Mia whispered, “Daniel has drawn that symbol for two years.”
Enzo turned the paper over.
On the back was another drawing.
A woman with dark hair.
Standing behind a barred window.
Enzo whispered one word.
May you like
“Rosa.”
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