Page 191 of Rosetti Family New York
“How the hell did you dig this up?” he asks.
That’s where it got complicated.
“I had some help,” I admit.
His eyebrow arches.
“From who?”
I stare at a cracked tile instead of looking at him.
“Just a guy.”
Technically true. Rafaele Rosetti is definitely a guy. He turned up at that bar last night and rescued me from that douchebag who was trying to drag me outside to God knows where. No, he was worse than that, and even though it terrifies me to admit it, things could have gotten bad if Rafe hadn’t shown up. I barely even protested when he walked me home and came inside, then hung around like bad wallpaper, fuming about how reckless I was.
Rafe Rosetti was already five steps ahead of me, it seemed. Bumping into him at the bar was no accident. He’d been watching the Callahan place. Or watching me. He already had all the details on Maddy’s boyfriend, and when he told me, I was stunned speechless. I had no idea he’d already been investigating.
Lucas shifts, trying to read my face. I need to stay focused.
“We have to find Ethan before he disappears,” I say. “He seems like the kind of person who can vanish at any moment.”
“Did this guy give you an address?” Lucas asks, pacing.
“Queens,” I admit. “He says that’s where Ethan’s holing up most days, but he isn’t 100% if he sleeps there too.”
Lucas flicks a stack of papers off the couch. Bills scatter. Lots of them.
I stoop to gather them, guilt twisting my ribs. I should have turned up to meet Maddy on time, then maybe I would have met this Ethan guy, warned Maddy off, kept her alive.
“You said Maddy was seeing him the night she died,” I press. “He’s got to know something.”
I put the bills on the crowded table.
“For sure,” Lucas agrees, sinking into the sofa. “But if he’s with the Red Hooks, he’s not gonna talk to us. Or maybe he’s gone for good. Jesus. Why didn’t I see it? He must’ve freaked when she—”
“We’ll figure it out,” I promise, crouching beside him.
I can smell the stale cigarette on his breath. He’s slipped back into bad habits.
He nods, eyes distant.
“We have to.”
“I need you in this, Lucas.”
He looks up.
“I’m in,” he says, like he needs to convince himself. “Let’s hit him up next weekend. Can you wait that long?”
I could arrange it with Rafe, get him to come along too. But next weekend, Jesus.... It sounds like an eternity. If Rafaele is right, Ethan could disappear at any moment. I’m only going to get one shot, and I have to make it count.
“Let’s go tomorrow,” I say, standing up then switching from foot to foot, unable to stay still. Adrenaline is building in my system, and I add:
“Hell, let’s go now.”
Lucas looks down at himself and groans.
“I’m a fucking mess, Sloane. I need to sleep.”
