If The Seas Catch Fire

Dom shook himself. Sergei was the last person he needed to be thinking about. Whatever went on between them, he needed to shut it out right now. He wanted to see Sergei again. He wanted a repeat of the night they’d spend in that godawful motel.

But he couldn’t let the lines blur between that life and this one, so he made himself focus. All day long, as he shunted money through channels that no fed would ever find, and updated ledgers for people indebted to the family, he forced himself not to think of Sergei.

Toward the middle of the morning, a tanned, gray-haired Chinese man named Dingxiang came in and sat across from him in his office.

“I just need some more time, sir,” the man pleaded. “My daughter, she had to go to the hospital last week. It was… it cost…” He shook his head.

Dom regarded him silently, keeping his sympathy hidden. He hated this, hated everything about it, but he had to keep his cards close to his vest. As much as he wanted to wipe the man’s ledger clean and let him leave without ever worrying again, he was already playing dangerous games with the accounting in the name of relieving people of their debts. He could only do so much without someone catching on.

Tone flat, he quietly said, “I’ve already given you extensions.”

“Yes, yes. And terribly… terribly sorry. But—”

Right then, Dom’s receptionist Daisy leaned in through the office door. “Excuse me, Mr. Maisano. Biaggio is on line three.”

“Thank you.” As she stepped back out, he turned to Dingxiang. “Give me just a moment.”

Dingxiang nodded.

Dom picked up the phone. “Yes, sir?”

“You have a meeting with your uncle at one o’clock.”

Dom glanced at this watch. That gave him just over an hour. “At the house?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there.”

Biaggio hung up without so much as a goodbye. That was normal for him—odds were, he had a hundred tasks to perform in the time a normal man would need to complete three. Pleasantries weren’t part of his tightly packed schedule.

Dom folded his hands and faced Dingxiang. “Listen, I’m going to waive your payment for this month, and this month only.”

The man exhaled with obvious relief. He undoubtedly knew there’d be conditions, strings that would make all but the most desperate man cringe, but almost anything was better than having a Maisano debt collector at his door.

Guilt tugged at Dom. It wasn’t at all below him to cancel an immigrant family’s debts and send them on their way with their papers in hand, but he’d already waived a substantial amount of money for another family this month. There was only so much he could do before even his financial wizardry couldn’t make the numbers line up, and then people would ask questions he couldn’t answer. If the truth ever came out, he wouldn’t put it past Corrado to find a family who’d been released from their debt, and use them to make a point.

He exhaled. “If the next payment is a minute late or a penny short, your interest rate will go up three percent.”

Dingxiang blinked. Dom swore he could feel the man’s heart drop. The interest rate was already high on the loan, and if it climbed much higher, repayment would be nearly impossible.

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.”