Chapter 2 - Blood Behind the Freezer
I wrapped Luca in the stained tablecloth and pulled open the door of the walk-in freezer.
He stared at me.
“You intend to hide me in there?”
“I intend to keep you alive. Try not to sound disappointed.”
“I’ll freeze.”
“You’re losing blood. Cold is the least of your problems.”
The kitchen door swung open before he could argue.
Two men entered first.
Both wore dark coats. Both kept their hands inside their pockets.
A third man followed, older than the others, with silver hair and a scar crossing his chin.
His gaze landed on me.
“Evening.”
“It’s morning,” I said.
He smiled faintly.
“We’re searching for someone.”
Hector continued scraping the grill, though it was already clean.
I stepped in front of the freezer.
“Try a phone.”
The silver-haired man studied the blood on my uniform.
“Kitchen accident?”
“I dropped a tray of raw steak.”
His eyes shifted toward the reddish trail on the tile.
“That steak appears to have walked.”
“I’m not very good at my job.”
He came closer.
Behind the freezer door, Luca’s breathing sounded too loud.
The man’s name surfaced in my memory.
Marco Bellini.
Luca Vitale’s underboss.
Newspapers described him as a respected businessman. My grandmother would have described him as a snake wearing a tie.
Bellini reached out and touched the blood on my sleeve.
Still warm.
His eyes lifted to mine.
“Open the freezer.”
“No.”
One of his men moved forward.
Hector raised the heavy cast-iron skillet from the stove.
“I wouldn’t do that,” he said.
The younger man looked at him. “You threatening me?”
Hector’s hand trembled, but his voice did not.
“I’m telling you the floor is wet.”
The man took another step and slipped on the grease Hector had quietly poured beside the grill.
His shoulder struck a metal rack. Pans crashed around him.
I used the noise to kick the freezer door shut.
Bellini did not flinch.
He looked from Hector to me.
“Open it.”
I folded my arms.
“Health inspector sealed it yesterday. Compressor leak.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No. I expect you to decide whether killing a waitress in front of twenty witnesses is worth checking.”
The diner had gone silent beyond the kitchen.
Bellini’s expression hardened.
Then police sirens sounded outside.
Not approaching.
Passing.
But Bellini’s men reacted anyway.
He glanced toward the front windows.
I leaned closer and lowered my voice.
“You have maybe thirty seconds before one of those customers grows a conscience.”
He smiled, but his eyes remained cold.
“What’s your name?”
“Maya.”
“Maya what?”
“None of your business.”
He reached into his coat and placed a hundred-dollar bill on the preparation table.
“For the inconvenience.”
I looked at the bill.
Then at him.
“You forgot your friend.”
He left it there.
“This city rewards people who know when to forget.”
The men walked out.
We waited until the SUV disappeared.
Then I opened the freezer.
Luca fell forward into my arms.
His lips had turned blue.
“You were supposed to stay conscious.”
“You locked me in a freezer.”
“You’re welcome again.”
Hector hurried over with towels.
“We need a hospital,” he said.
Luca grabbed my sleeve.
“No hospital.”
“You need a surgeon,” I replied.
“I need Dr. Russo.”
“Who is Dr. Russo?”
“A man who owes me.”
“Does he make house calls?”
“He does when I ask.”
I held out my hand.
“Phone.”
Luca studied me.
“Mine is compromised.”
“Then use mine.”
“They’ll trace it.”
“Who?”
“My enemies.”
“Your enemies are currently circling the block.”
He pulled a slim phone from an inside pocket and removed the battery.
Then he told me a number from memory.
I dialed using the diner’s landline.
A sleepy voice answered.
“Hello?”
Luca took the receiver.
“Russo.”
Silence followed.
Then the voice sharpened.
“Mr. Vitale?”
“I need you at the old chapel on Mulberry. Twenty minutes.”
“I can’t—”
“Bring surgical supplies.”
Luca hung up.
I stared at him.
“The old chapel?”
“Abandoned property.”
“And how are you getting there?”
He looked at me.
“No.”
I shook my head immediately.
“You’re not taking my car.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were about to.”
Hector glanced through the kitchen doors.
“Bellini left one man across the street.”
Luca’s jaw tightened.
“They’re waiting to see who moves.”
I grabbed the keys to the diner’s delivery van.
Hector looked horrified.
“That thing barely runs.”
“Exactly. Nobody expects a mafia boss to escape in a van shaped like a coffee cup.”
Luca tried to rise.
This time he remained upright, though he had to grip the shelf.
“You should stay here,” he told me.
“So Bellini can return and ask why the freezer is bleeding?”
“I can protect you once I’m safe.”
“You couldn’t protect yourself tonight.”
The words landed harder than I intended.
Luca’s expression went still.
Then he nodded once.
“You’re right.”
It was the first honest thing he had said.
Hector tossed me a clean apron.
“I’ll tell the owner you got sick.”
“He’ll fire me.”
“He was going to fire you eventually.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re difficult.”
“I’ve been told.”
I helped Luca through the rear exit.
Rain struck our faces as we crossed the alley.
A man stepped from behind a dumpster.
Bellini’s lookout.
He reached inside his coat.
Luca shoved me behind the van.
The lookout drew his weapon.
Before he could raise it, Hector hurled a metal trash can lid through the doorway. It struck the man’s arm.
I kicked the back of his knee.
He hit the pavement.
Luca took the weapon, removed the magazine and threw both pieces into separate drains.
The lookout stared up at him.
“Mr. Vitale—”
“Tell Marco,” Luca said, breathing hard, “that I remember who opened the door.”
We climbed into the van.
As I started the engine, the enormous coffee cup mounted on its roof rattled like it might fall off.
Luca leaned his head against the seat.
“You speak Italian like someone born there.”
“My grandmother raised me.”
“What was her name?”
“Rosa Carbone.”
His eyes opened.
For the first time since entering the diner, Luca looked truly shaken.
“Rosa Carbone?”
I glanced at him.
“You knew her?”
May you like
He looked toward the rain-dark street.
“My father feared her.”
