by Brynne Asher
Tony
“He’s missing?” I’m on the phone as I look across the room at Leigh who’s surrounded by my family, talking to my aunts, uncles, and Rosa. The night has been a whirlwind. All positive energy, except from my mother. I’m going to have to figure out what to do about her and soon. It’s stressing Leigh out even though my mother has made it clear she’s pissed at me.
“We thought we should let you know since he was agitated the night we arrested his father. Almost had to take him into custody that night he was so upset about his dad’s charges and arrest. His mother finally called it in today. Apparently, he took off Saturday night after we hauled his dad in and she hasn’t seen him since. He’s an adult, twenty-three-years-old. But his mom says he isn’t well—even unstable. Some kind of chemical imbalance. He’s fine when he’s on his meds, but she doesn’t think he’s had them for days. She’s freaked, not to mention the shit storm brewing around her husband, and they’re dragging her in for questioning to see if she knew about the money.”
“Thanks for the call,” I say to the detective assigned to the case. “I’ll let my client know. I’d appreciate it if you could keep me up to date. A picture and description wouldn’t go amiss, either.”
“Will do,” he says.
I disconnect and move to my dad and Gino to fill them in. “Richard Blaton’s son, Cory, is missing. Remember he went ballistic when his dad was taken into custody? He took off that night and his mom hasn’t seen him since. I guess he’s not well when he’s not on his meds. The detective didn’t go into detail, but it doesn’t sound good. I’ll call McCurdy when I get home tonight and fill him in.”
“Great,” Gino huffs. “One more thing to worry about.”
“It’s getting late,” my dad says. “You’d better go if you’re going to make that call tonight.”
I sigh and look across to the kitchen—this time at my mother—who’s busy helping Gabby clean her kitchen that already looks pretty damn clean.
“You’d be doing me a favor if you talked to her before you go,” my dad says from my side and I turn to look at him. “I have to go home with her. I’m happy for you son. I even understand why you did it on some level. But she’s hurt. You need to smooth that over.”
I silently agree with a lift of my chin and walk to the kitchen. Leigh catches my gaze as I walk across the room when she sees where I’m headed.
My mom has her back to me again, so I move in and put my arm around her neck from the back, pulling her to me.
Surprised, she lets out a little shriek before realizing it’s me, grabs my arm with her hands. “Tony!”
I lower my voice for only her to hear. “You can’t ignore me all night, mom.”
“Ignoring you is better than the alternative, trust me,” she bites.
“You have to talk to me,” I push.
She pulls away, forcing me back and swings around, probably more pissed than I’ve ever seen her. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to think about it and then I want you to say that you understand.”
As she raises her voice, I realize the room behind me has grown quiet. “All I can do is think about it, Tony. I’ve thought and wondered all night. What you said, the look on your face when you took your vows, to see you kiss her. All of that, Tony, are things I would’ve liked to have catalogued in my head for the rest of my life. Mothers like that kind of thing, you know.”
“Please, mom.”
“Please what? What do you want from me?”
“I want you to be happy for me.”
She looks exasperated. “Of course, I’m happy for you.”
“I’m sorry. Leigh didn’t want a big to-do. She finally agreed and I didn’t want to wait.”
She narrows her eyes. “That’s what everyone is saying.”
“Mom.” I dip my head to look at her. She’s as tall as Leigh, maybe even a bit taller, she doesn’t have to look far to glare up at me. “Try and understand, especially after all she’s been through. I was only thinking of her, doing what she needed. I’d never cut you out to hurt you.”
Looking away, she huffs and stares at my shoulder. “I understand that.”
“She loves me, mom. She makes me happy. I’ve never been more sure about anything.”
She looks at me without glaring this time and seems resigned. “You’ll be a good husband and I can tell she loves you. What more could I want in the end?”
I can tell she’s coming around, even if it’s halfhearted. I pull her into a hug, feeling her hug me back, the arms that have loved me my whole life could never hold a grudge for long. Feeling guilty, I decide to throw her a bone. “I think Gabby videoed it on her phone.”
My mom pulls away immediately. “She did?”
Seeing the hopeful look on my mom’s face, I add, “She even made us stand for pictures, too.”
My mom finally gives me a small genuine smile. “Of course, she did. I can’t wait to see them. I’ll treasure them, Tony.”
“Are we good?”
She sighs, completely resigned now. “I guess. Or we will be eventually. I love you. I only want you to be happy.”
I lean down to give her another hug and hear my freaking little sister from behind us. “And all’s good on the home front again.”
My mom laughs as I let go of her and turn to find my wife. She’s standing across the room looking relieved, knowing we averted a Carpino disaster—albeit narrowly.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Where Is She?
Tony
“Here’s your mail.” Paige walks into my office with a buddle of envelopes.
“Thanks.” I look up at her as she flops the pile on my desk in front of me. I grab a file on my desk for her. “Wait, I have papers for you to sign for your LLC.”
“Thanks. I’m clueless about this part of running a business but I wasn’t about to admit that the other night. Charlotte can be such a pain in my ass. Why she has to be negative all the time, I’ll never know.”
“She’s not negative, Paige.” I defend my big sister who’s most like me. “She’s a realist.”
“Well, she’s a negative realist.”
I smirk at her. “Look who’s being a negative optimist.”
“Shut up.” She tries to hide a grin. “Where do I sign and what does all this mean?”
“We’re setting you up as an LLC. the business will be taxed at your personal tax rate but will give you the flexibility to be taxed as a corporation later, if it financially benefits the company. It’s a good setup for small companies with only one or a few owners and not many employees. It also prevents you from paying taxes twice, by the company and you personally, on your income. Go through and sign everything highlighted.”
“Okay, I’m all about not paying taxes twice,” she mutters as she flips through the pages, quickly signing everything.
“Congrats, pest. You’re the proud owner of Birds of a Feather, whatever in the fuck that means.”
“You’re just jealous because you’re dry and boring and I was blessed with all the creative, fun-loving genes. Don’t be bitter, Tony. Accept yourself for who you are and make the best of it.” She smiles saccharine sweet, as fake as the day is long. I can’t help but chuckle at my little sister. “Why didn’t you bring my new sister-in-law in today? This is my last week and I was having fun hanging out with her. Now my last day is going to be long and boring.”
“She insisted on staying home. I think I was lucky to get her here the last two days. She’s got the alarm set and said she wouldn’t go anywhere. The police have no leads other than Preston, who insists he’s not making any threats. At least I kept her from working this week.”
Paige gets up and moves to my door. “I guess. Hey, are you going to take me to lunch for my last day?”
I shake my head but say, “Sure. As long as you don’t eat half my meal.”
“It depends on what you order, but thanks. I’ll think about where I want to go.” She grins but
before walking out, she turns one more time. “Tony?”
“Yeah?”
Then my little sister—who as much as she annoys me, even I can’t argue the fact that she’s beautiful—swings her long dark hair over shoulder to look at me with her equally dark eyes. Before she says anything, her smile turns genuine. “I’m happy for you, Tone. So happy for you. But I can’t help being happier for Leigh, and that’s all you. She’s very lucky and I’m lucky I got to watch it all happen from the start. A girl couldn’t ask for anything more than what you’ve given her.”
I pull in a breath and exhale. “Thanks. Although I feel like the lucky one.”
“You both are.” She gifts me another smile. “I’ll see you at lunch?”
“Lunch,” I affirm.
As much as Paige and I go at it, she loves her family, there’s no denying it. Almost to a fault. As far as I know she hardly dates and most of her good friends share the Carpino blood line. For an extravert, she weirdly never strays far.
I look back to my desk and leaf through my mail before getting back to work but freeze when I see another manila envelope. An envelope that looks eerily similar to the one on my doorstep Monday morning. This time my name and office address is scratched on the front with no return address.
Carefully this time so it can be brushed for prints later, I take a letter opener to slice open the top. Holding it by the edges, I shake the contents out on my desk. More pictures, the same pictures that were delivered to me last time, but today they’re slashed, cut, scraped through. I use the eraser of a pencil to move the contents around on my desk finding another note in the rubble. This one, in the same plain font as before, reads, “You can’t hide forever.”
Fucking Preston. I push off from my desk and, though a haze of rage, I storm out of my office. I pass Paige and I bite, “Call Jude. Tell him I got another letter and pictures, they’re on my desk. Do not go in there and do not touch anything until the police get there. I want it dusted for prints. Tell him to call me—I’ll be back.”
Without looking back and before Paige can respond, I pull out my phone to call Leigh and make sure she’s okay as I prepare to make a surprise visit.
“Sir, you can’t go in there. He’s in a meeting. Sir, stop!” the receptionist yells, on my heels, following me through the halls until I find the door with Preston Briggs name on it.
Throwing the door open, I am in fact interrupting a meeting as he has three other people sitting at the small conference table in his posh office. Ignoring the other three, I step through and look directly at Preston. “I need a word.” Looking at the other three, I add, “Alone.”
“I’m sorry, I tried to keep him from coming in,” the exasperated receptionist says from the doorway.
Preston levels his glare on me. “It’s okay. If you all would excuse me, I’ll take care of this and we can continue our business.”
The other three with the receptionist, shuffle out of the large space and pass me as Preston and I never lose eye contact. The minute I hear the door click, I start. “Leave Leigh the fuck alone.”
Preston, crossing his arms to stand up as tall as he can. “I thought I was done with this. You need to contact me through my attorneys.”
“I’m not here as Leigh’s attorney. I’m here as her husband.”
He slightly flinches but recovers as quickly as he can, barely able to cover his shock of this new information.
“That’s right,” I add. “My wife. Right about now the police are showing up at my office to dust the pictures and note for prints. Your ass is going to jail if you were stupid enough to leave any evidence behind.”
Uncrossing his arms, he leans forward onto his desk. “Then I can breathe easy, because I don’t know what in the fuck you’re talking about. And I could give a shit what she is to you now. I don’t want anything to do with her. I told the police the same thing earlier this week when they paid me a friendly visit. I have no idea what note or pictures you’re talking about, but maybe I’ll think about getting my own restraining order and we’ll see how you like it.”
“How did you know about her apartment? You told her mom exactly where to find her,” I charge.
His face immediately goes hard and he knows he’s been caught. Crossing his arms again he admits, “I have a contact at the hospital. When they changed her address on her employment information, they let me know. But I swear to you, I couldn’t be fucking happier she’s out of my life. She was a fucking headache and I’m glad it’s done. I wanted to make sure she was nowhere near me.”
Don’t ask me why and don’t ask me how, but I know exactly what the officer meant when he told Jude he believed the asswipe didn’t send the pictures and note the first time. It’s not his style. He’s cocky and self-indulged. I can’t imagine him demeaning himself to lurking around and following someone taking pictures.
“Maybe you need to look elsewhere for enemies, what with your winning personality. I’m sure you won’t have to look far,” he huffs. “Are we done here? I have work to do.”
“Who’s your contact at the hospital?” I demand.
“I’m not telling you that.”
“You don’t tell me, I go straight to the police and report you were checking up on her whereabouts. That’s a violation of your restraining order and now your probation. You want me to do that, say the word—your ass is in jail and you can kiss your job goodbye. I don’t care how many levels you were demoted, you can’t work from prison.” I lay it out, knowing I have him by the balls and also knowing I can always use this later if I need to. I really want the jackass at the hospital who’s releasing personal information of employees.
Preston’s not stupid, he sees he’s in between a rock and a hard place. He frustratingly huffs, shakes his head, and looks to the side. He finally turns back to me. “The administrative assistant to the head of HR.”
“I’ll say this one more time—leave Leigh the fuck alone. There’s no reason for you to check up on her anymore. She’ll be living at my address, under my roof, and in sleeping my bed. If I see or hear of you anywhere close, you can kiss your life as you know it goodbye.” With that I turn to leave.
I have a burning hole in my gut that something isn’t right even though I just talked to Leigh. She was at home with the alarm on. She even made me smile when she sheepishly told me she was rearranging things in the kitchen. I told her she could do whatever she wanted with anything in the house, I was pretty sure my mom or sisters put shit where it is and since I hardly cook, I could care less. She giggled with a, “Okay honey. I’ll rearrange the whole house today.”
I’m in my car and decide to head home to tell Leigh about the latest note. I promised I wouldn’t keep anything from her again and I won’t. She and I can take Paige to lunch. Maybe Paige can talk her into coming back to the office this afternoon.
I’m about a half a mile from home when my phone rings. I frown as I look at the display and answer. “Tony Carpino.”
“Mr. Carpino, this is ADT. Can you please provide your security code?”
I gun my engine, knowing what this could be and bite, “Basketball. Has something happened at my house?”
“Yes, sir. You’re not home? Your alarm has been triggered from a window in the back of the house.”
“I’m not home, but my wife is.” I take a corner in my neighborhood three times faster than I should. “I’m on my now, almost there.”
“We’ve dispatched the police, sir. Please wait for them to get there before entering the home,” she directs.
“My wife is in the house. There’s no way I’m waiting outside,” I declare.
“Sir, please wait for the police.”
“You can tell the police I’m going in.” I hang up.
When I pull up to the curb, nothing seems amiss. I dial Leigh’s phone and wait. It rings and rings, finally going to voice mail. I call my house phone next and get the same. The house alarm is still going strong and loud, cutting into my fucking heartbeat th
at I swear is beating in my ears.
Shit.
Reaching down I grab my gun out of my ankle holster, looking around before getting out and quickly making my way to the backyard. The gate has been left open so I peek around the fence and look toward the back of my house before moving. I see the large window over the deck by the kitchen has been busted through. It’s impossible to listen for anything as the ear-piercing alarm is cutting through the quiet, spring midday.
Wondering how long it’s going to take the police to get here, I keep moving toward the back of my house, go to the basement door, and use my key to get in. Looking before I turn the corner, I don’t see anything disturbed. Still not hearing a thing other than the ringing of the fucking alarm, I start to move up the stairs with my back to the wall. I peek around the corner and look into the kitchen where the window is broken, but I move to the right with my gun up and ready, making my way toward the front of my house. Clearing my office and dining room, I head to the back hall toward the kitchen.
I sense movement from the side and turn to see someone duck into the kitchen.
“Stop!” I yell over the alarm with my back to the wall.
I move fast, not wanting them to circle and come at me from behind. I get to the corner and look around when I see something flinging. I duck behind the wall and a bar stool comes crashing to the corner, splitting it into pieces with the noise breaking into the alarm. Narrowly missing most the debris, I move around the corner to see him backing up into the kitchen around the other side of the island.
He looks different from the pictures but there’s no doubt. It’s Cory Blaton, Richard Blaton’s son, the kid who’s been missing since last Saturday night when his father was taken into custody. He’s definitely no kid. He’s a man, but you can tell there’s something not right just by looking at him.
He’s agitated—almost unhinged—as he backs away from me and into the kitchen. I have my gun up and trained on him, though, he looks unarmed. His clothes are filthy and worn, his light brown hair dirty and disheveled. He might be five ten, maybe five eleven with some meat on him. But it’s his eyes that give away his state of mind.
