“What?” Carlo pulled back. “Why?”
“Is it 718-555-7948?” Nova asked.
Carlo’s light eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”
“’Cause I’ve seen you type it into your home phone every time I’m over.”
“You can do that?” Carlo looked highly disturbed.
“Obviously.” Nova was still staring at the paper in his hand. “I knew this number looked familiar, but I didn’t put it together until now.”
“Put what together?” Carlo barked at him.
Nova looked up at Carlo in shock. “Tino knew Lola. That’s why he was such a dick to her at breakfast. That’s why they both took off to the bathroom forever. They know each other. They’ve known each other for years.”
“Are you saying Tino’s fucking her?” Carlo snorted in disbelief. “He can’t even fuck his own girlfriend.” Carlo gestured to Brianna. “Lola’s five years older than him. No fucking way.”
“It’s not a romantic relationship. They’re not long conversations. They’re quick. Like they’re just touching base over something.” Nova picked up another page from the pile in front Carlo. “On Sundays. After church and crew work. When he goes to dance practice.”
“We don’t have dance practice on Sundays,” Brianna argued. “Has he been telling you that?”
“It’s not all the time. Once a month. Maybe twice,” Nova clarified.
“We never have dance on Sundays,” Brianna assured him. “Jasmine has church obligations.”
“He’s been telling me that for years. I’m usually at the don’s on Sunday night, so I never thought to question it, but every time he’s told me he’s going to Bed-Stuy, it looks like he called Lola instead,” Nova said suspiciously as he went back to flipping through the records. “She wears a band, Carlo. The same band Tino wears. There are different ones. All sorts of different ones. Same design, different clasps. I see them all the time. I notice them because of Tino. Mei’s is a dragon, but Lola’s is a lion like Tino’s and Bobby’s. That’s a pretty strange coincidence, considering they’ve been talking in secret for years.”
“I don’t know who the fuck Lola is,” Carina cut into the conversation. “But we need to talk to her.”
Nova and Carlo wanted to ditch Carina and Brianna for the trip to Manhattan. Except Carina nixed that instantly. Nova suggested they stay in Brooklyn in case Tino got back. Carina wrote a huge note and taped it on the door instead. Then she pasted four more around the apartment, and the second she mentioned her nonno, the men finally relented and dragged them along.
Brianna suspected the band thing was making them nervous.
They thought Tino was doing something on the side.
Something against the family.
Something that could get him killed…if they found him.
“I have to tell Rome,” Nova said as Carlo pulled into an Upper East Side apartment complex that was extremely posh. Nova’s hands had started shaking sometime during the drive, and he looked to his uncle in anguish. “Tino’s been gone for over twenty-four hours. I have to tell him he’s missing.”
“Let’s see what we find out from Lola.” Carlo sounded apprehensive too, which did nothing to calm the rest of their nerves.
If Carlo was nervous, they all were.
“Maybe you two should stay here,” Carlo said as he turned to look at Carina and Brianna in the backseat.
“Vaffanculo,” Carina cursed. “We’re coming.”
“What if you hear something you don’t wanna hear?” Carlo was talking to Carina but looking at Brianna as he said, “You should stay in the car.”
“Maybe you should stay in the car,” Nova added, and he was staring dead at Carlo.
“Maybe you should,” Carlo countered as he glared at Nova.
“Maybe.” Nova shrugged. “He’s had that band on since he was twelve. Maybe I should stay in the car, because I already feel like eating a fucking bullet, and I don’t even know why.”
There was dead silence in the car after that, and then Carina opened the door and got out, making the decision for all of them. After that brief pause, when reality felt too hard to deal with, they ended up running to the building.
This Lola had a doorman, but the weird thing was, he referred to her as Miss Lola.
No last name.
They might have ignored it, but when they all walked over to the corner, Nova asked Carlo, “What is her last name?”
Carlo looked at Nova for a long moment before he admitted, “I don’t know.”
“You’re gonna marry this girl, and you don’t know her last name?” Nova asked incredulously, his voice low enough that the doorman wouldn’t hear them.
“I haven’t asked yet,” Carlo corrected him. “It’s not a huge deal. She doesn’t know my last name either.”
“You sure about that?” Nova quirked an eyebrow at Carlo. He walked up to the doorman, who was calling up for Lola, to ask, “What’s her last name?”
The doorman just looked at all four of them, the phone in his hand, and then said something into the receiver in French.
Which was very slick of him.