Dante said nothing more as they drove straight into the city, turning north after the bridge, heading up to Westchester County. Dante's car was still parked somewhere down in Little Italy, but he didn't say a word about it, staying silent as they made the trip to the Galante house. Umberto pulled his car beside Genna's BMW, still parked along the driveway like some sort of morbid lawn ornament.
Dante headed straight inside, leaving the door open for Umberto. Primo met them in the foyer. "Any problems?"
"None," Umberto said, shutting the front door behind him. "There was nothing there. No sign of anyone. And nobody noticed us that I could tell. We were in and out."
"Good." Primo's gaze turned to Dante. "Where have you been?"
"Around," Dante said.
"He was with a girl," Umberto said as he smacked Dante on the back. "You know how he is."
"Ah, yes." Primo's expression softened, something akin to pride shining from his eyes for the first time since Dante had returned, like finally something felt familiar to him. Finally something reminded him of his Dante. "It's good to see you."
Dante didn't respond, and his father didn't wait for him to, heading back into his office. Umberto lingered in the foyer, looking like he wanted to join Primo but was hesitant to leave Dante.
"I should head back to the city," Dante said. "Get back to what I was doing."
Umberto laughed. "Or who you were doing, right?"
"Right." Dante hesitated, staring at his father's open office door when Umberto strolled that way. "Can I ask you something, Bert?"
Umberto turned. "What's up?"
"You said you tracked Genna's phone. You ever track mine?"
"Of course not."
"Never?"
"Never."
"Not even when I was missing? You didn't think, you know, you might've been able to track it to find me?"
"Didn't really think about it."
Dante nodded as he left, not having much else to say. He took the subway back into the city, in a daze, lost in thought, stepping out of the station in Little Italy, down the street from Casato. He pulled out his phone as he strolled along, his eyes on the screen as he sought out a number, dialing it.
"New Jersey Natural Gas."
"I need to report a leak," Dante said, stalling on the street corner not far from Gabriella's apartment. "It's at a house in a suburb outside of Elizabeth."
Dante rattled off the address, hoping he remember the numbers right and was sending them to the correct place.
"We'll send a crew out right away," the woman said. "Can I get your name?"
Dante hung up when she asked that, staring at his phone for a second before dropping it to the sidewalk, stomping on it, crushing it.
Picking up the remnants, he tossed it in the closest trash bin before continuing on, heading to the bar.
He needed a damn drink.
The first cell phone Genna ever had was a hot pink Motorola Razr. A flip phone. She remembered talking on it all hours of the night, not having to worry about her father picking up the line from somewhere else in the house. Her ringtone had perpetually stayed Hollaback Girl, a fact that drove everyone around her insane.
After that came smartphones and new ringtones every week.
Always a song. Always music.
Never the obnoxious generic beeping.
So why the hell did she hear it?
"What the fuck is that noise?" she asked, scrunching up her nose as she glanced around the kitchen, sitting on the counter beside the stove. Matty was cooking burgers in a pan. Nothing special, just some frozen patties, but she was so hungry she wouldn't complain. Compared to what she'd scrounged up for lunch, it was practically a gourmet meal.
"Banjos," Matty said, pointing at the dingy little AM/FM radio on the other side of the counter, one he'd dug out of a closet in an attempt to fill the silence. "It was all I could get to come in."
"No, I'm not talking about the freaky Deliverance bullshit," she said. "That beep-bee-bee-boop noise."
He reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out far enough to see it. "Not coming from me."
Shit.
Genna dropped down from the counter and ran out of the kitchen, skidding to a stop in the foyer. Her cheap flip phone lay on the stand, glowing bright, steadily ringing. She snatched it up, flipping it open, pressing buttons in a panic, not sure which one would answer it. "Hello?"
"Hey, it's Chris down at Jerry's. Can I speak to—?"
"This is her," Genna said, walking back into the kitchen. "How are you?"