Page 11 of The Mafia's Captive

“She’s nothing of the sort, and she has her own room. You should watch her. She’s not supposed to leave the penthouse unless it's under my direction. What do you mean, ‘it explains a lot?’”

“The way you are treating her. What is she guilty of?”

“A lot. You wouldn’t like her if you knew.”

“Then don’t tell me. She’s such a sweet girl.”

“You’ve only known her for five minutes.”

“I have an intuition about these things. You and her…”

She never gets to finish her sentence because Corina comes in, dangling her keys and holding a purse. We leave, making use of the private elevator, which sends us straight to the basement and bypassing the hotel and casino. Corina’s look of awe as she gazes out of the glass window that overlooks the entire city is fascinating. “What are you looking at?”

“The city.”

“You should see it at night. It’s more beautiful.”

“I don’t know. There’s something fascinating about the strip in the morning.” I take a second look. She’s right. The unlit neon signs, the concrete buildings, and the way the morning sun hits on the windows give it a sort of glow that is poetic. It’s like the night’s sin washed anew by the warm rays.

The city disappears as the elevator descends into the basement, where it comes to a stop. Colin and Rob have already brought the car in front of the elevator, and Rob is holding the door while Colin is at the wheel. We get in and the drive to her apartment takes a little longer than I expect. It’s a little out of town, on the cheaper end of the city. The building looks good, but not what I expected from someone who’s working two jobs and has been stealing from me. A tiny nab of doubt niggles at me. Maybe she is putting her money elsewhere. Saving up so she can get out of town. That way, she won’t bring attention to herself as well as have enough to live on when she bails. That’s what a smart person would do. Too bad she wasn’t smart enough not to get caught. We enter her apartment building and she glances behind her when she sees me following her. “You could wait in the car,” she waves her hand in the air, the one with the bracelet. “It’s not like you can’t catch me if I go anywhere.”

“I don’t know, I have a hankering to see where you live.”

She shakes her head and continues upstairs. We stop at her apartment door and once more she glances back at me. “Don’t expect much.” She unlocks the door and opens it. The place is small, but quaint and tidy. The kitchen and living room have an open plan structure that’s supposed to make it feel bigger but somehow fails. Most of the furniture is eclectic and feels cozy. I almost want to sink down into the thickly stuffed loveseat and watch her as she moves around.

“You can take a seat while I go fetch it.” I’m tempted to do so until I remember who I’m with.

“I don’t know. I want to see where you sleep.” That comes out more erotic than I intend, but she seems not to notice.

“Sure whatever.”

We head down the small corridor and into a room. Hers, I assume. It’s less eclectic and more organized. Everything is a version of yellow, white, and blue. She moves around the room, first looking under her bed, then opening the chest of drawers, which I note is empty.

“Do you need help?”

“No, but if you’re going to stand there like a scarecrow, it’s going to increase my anxiety.” If she expects me to fall for whatever trick she’s trying to pull, she’s got another thing coming. Corina gets back to looking for the doll in her closet. She has to climb onto a stool to get on the top shelf, and that’s when she whips out a beige and brown teddy bear. It looks worn but well kept. One eye is missing and a similar-looking button is sown on instead, and the hairs on the doll are matted. It looks like something an adult would have had since they were a child. So, I guess she wasn’t lying about the doll. Go figure.

“Right. Let’s go.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.” Even though she was telling the truth, there’s something about the way she replies that makes my hair rise. Something is off, and I don’t know what.

“Give me the doll.”

“Why?”

“I just want to check something.”

“What do you think—” I snatch the doll from her. “Hey!”

I ignore her as I inspect it. It feels heavy for a plush toy and when I shake it; I hear nothing. She raises her arms in exasperation. “What are you looking for? It’s not like there are any drugs in it.”

“Let me be the judge of that?”

“Oh. My. God. You really think there are drugs in it.”

“Where’s the zipper?”

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