Heart of the World by Linda Barnes Page B

Gianelli—and that list's gonna run to a couple hundred creeps—might take it out on you or the kid?”
    I was shaking my head before he finished the sentence. “Sam's not—”
    â€œPlease, Carlotta, don’t tell me what he is. You asked me to check out this Gregor Maltic, right? Just because he's seeing Marta? Find out what kinda stuff he's into? Well, I don’t have to run any check on Gianelli to know he's big trouble. I hear things that keep me up nights.”
    â€œMooney—” I held up a hand to stop him, but I guess he’d been hanging on to what he wanted to say so long he couldn’t control the flow once the dam broke.
    â€œThis old-school North End Boston Mafia crap is over, Carlotta. This isn’t some Godfather movie with family loyalty and old men kissing each others’ rings. It's big fish chomping little ones, and the Boston Mob is small-time, always has been. New York's coming to town, and Miami, too. Believe me, Gianelli couldn’t get a life insurance policy from Lloyds of London. And you want me to check on Maltic , see if he's trouble?”
    I sucked in a deep breath and stood. My head was pounding again and I had to make an effort to keep my voice level. “Look, I just came to let you know what's going on, to say I appreciate anything you can do.”
    â€œAsk Gianelli what he knows about contract killers from Miami. Ask him where Paolina is.”
    Contract killers from Miami? I tried to swallow, but the lump was back in my throat. “He doesn’t know where she is.”
    â€œHow come you think he's telling you the truth, Carlotta? You tell him from me, if he knows anything about this he's not telling—”
    â€œThat's enough, Moon. I’m sorry I—”
    â€œOh? You think that's enough?”
    More than enough, I thought. Stop , I thought.
    â€œThen you didn’t come here to ask if I’d found any Jane Doe teens these past few days?”
    I stared at the same blue-gray carpet that ran down the hallway. There were scuff marks near the corner of his desk. A phone rang several offices away, once, twice, three times.
    â€œI’m sorry, Carlotta. That was out of line, and I’m sorry.” His hand was on my shoulder before I realized he’d moved from behind his desk. “Look, give me her picture so I can fax it around. You must have something more recent than this.”
    His top desk drawer was open; he must have removed the photo from the drawer. He’d not only kept, but framed Paolina's school shot from two years ago. Why keep a framed photo in a drawer? I thought as I handed him a wallet-sized update.
    â€œI’ll messenger a bigger one once we get the copies.”
    I could have saved my breath. I don’t think he heard me. He was staring at the photo, taking in the changes, eyeing the sleek hair, the curve of a breast in the V of the low-cut blouse, the kohl-rimmed eyes.
    â€œGod,” he said, “nobody's gonna buy her being underage.”
    â€œShe's fifteen, Mooney.”
    â€œHow the hell did that happen?” he said, shaking his head from side to side, as though denial could stop time in its tracks. As though anything could.

CHAPTER 5
    I made it to my car as quickly as the icy sidewalk would allow, beating out a meter-reader by a good ten seconds, shoving the keys at the ignition while trying to simultaneously slam the door and eyeball my watch. Didn’t work; the keys flew out of my hand and came to rest on the floor at my feet, and then I was leaning my forehead on the steering wheel, blinking to hold back tears, praying the meter maid wouldn’t notice and haul me out of the car for a breathalyzer test.
    Damn Mooney anyway. He hadn’t quizzed me about any crazed felons I’d nailed when I was a cop, any goon recently freed from prison and hungering for revenge. No, he’d gone straight for the jugular, straight for Sam Gianelli. And damn Sam