their way to the eighth floor.
Rocco’s mother and siblings lived in apartment 8C. Two children sprinted out the door, leaving it open. Simon rapped his knuckles on the door, and a woman’s voice told him to come in.
Simon entered. Cornelius stayed by the door. Rocco rose from a Barcalounger and started toward him. Again Simon was taken aback by the pure size of the man. A woman came out of the kitchen.
“Who’s this?” she asked.
Rocco stared daggers at Simon. “Don’t worry about it, Mama.”
“Don’t tell me not to worry about it. This is my house.”
“I got it, Mama. He’s just leaving.” Rocco stepped right up to Simon, spreading out to his full size. Simon was eye to eye with his pectorals. “Aren’t you?”
Simon tilted so he could see past Rocco, which was no easy task. “I’m looking for my daughter,” he said to Rocco’s mother. “I think your son may know where she is.”
“Rocco?”
“Don’t listen to him, Mama.”
But she wasn’t having any of that. As his mother strode toward him, the big man seemed to wither. “Do you know where this man’s daughter is?”
“I don’t, Mama.” He sounded liked a ten-year-old now. “I’m telling the truth.”
Now she turned on Simon. “What makes you think he knows, mister?”
“Let me talk to him a second, Mama.” Rocco started moving them toward the door. “I got this.”
Rocco used his bulk to shove Simon back into the corridor, followed him out, and closed the door behind him. “Not cool, man—coming to my mama’s.” He spotted Cornelius. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Just helping him out.”
Rocco snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “Now I get it. You’re the one who sent him to me in the first place. Get the fuck out of here, both of you.”
Simon didn’t move. “Rocco?”
The big man looked down at him. “What?”
“My wife is in a coma fighting to survive. She got shot in your basement by your man. My daughter is missing. The last place anyone saw her was also in your basement.” Simon didn’t flinch or waver or even move. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me everything you know.”
“You think I’m scared of you?”
“You should be,” Cornelius said.
“Why’s that?”
“Look at him, Rocco. He’s a desperate man. You smart enough to know it don’t pay to mess with a desperate man.”
Rocco did indeed look at him. Simon held his gaze.
“I’ll tell the police you ordered Luther to shoot us,” Simon said.
“What? You know that isn’t true.”
“You called out Luther’s name.”
“To stop him, man. I didn’t want him to shoot!”
“I don’t know that. I think it was an order. I think you told him to shoot us.”
“Ah, I see.” Rocco spread his hands. He looked at Simon and then at Cornelius. “So that’s how it is, is it?”
Cornelius shrugged.
“I just want to find my daughter,” Simon said.
Rocco did a let-me-think-about-it head roll. “Okay, fine, but then I want you gone.”
Simon nodded.
“Yeah, she came to me. Paige, I mean. She came to the basement. I could see right away that someone had beaten her up.”
“Did she say who?”
“I didn’t have to ask. I knew.”
“Aaron.”
Rocco didn’t bother replying.
“So why did Luther shoot at us?”
“Because he’s crazy.”
Simon shook his head. “There’s gotta be more to it than that.”
“I didn’t tell him to do it.”
“Who did?”
“Look, man, the business I’m in—it isn’t an easy one. Always someone trying to move in on us. Aaron, yeah, he was a shitbag. But he was one of us. We figure a rival, shall we say, ‘enterprise’ took him out. Maybe the Fidels.”
“Fidels?”
Cornelius said, “Cuban gang,” and even in the middle of all this, with his wife fighting for her life and his daughter God knows where, Simon laughed out loud. The sound echoed in the corridor. People turned and stared.
“You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not.”
“A Cuban gang called the Fidels?”
Cornelius let a smile hit his lips. “The leader’s name is Castro.”
“You’re making that up.”
“Swear to God.”
Simon spun back toward Rocco. “Why did Paige come to you after this beating?”
“Why do you think?”
“For a fix,” Simon said. “Did you give it to her?”
“She didn’t have any money.”
“Is that a no?”
“I’m not a charity,” Rocco said.
“So what next?”
“She left, man. Next thing I know, Aaron is dead.”
“Do you think Paige did it?”
“Smart money is on the Fidels,” he said. “But yeah, I think there’s a chance Paige killed him. Or maybe you did it, man. Maybe that’s what Luther was thinking. Luther was there when Paige came in. Think about it. Let’s say I’m a father. If