Subject Seven

Chapter Twelve
Tina Carlotti

Tina climbed from the train and hauled her duffel bag with her. If anyone was amused by the skinny little girl carrying a sack almost as big as she was, they didn’t show it. Back in Camden they would have, so she kept her peace and made sure to look every last one of them in the eyes. Never flinch and never show fear.

And she was absolutely terrified. The train had stopped in Wilmark, New Jersey, just across the Hudson River from upstate New York. She’d planned on heading into New England, but her eyes were aching and her head felt like it wanted to explode and she needed to rest in a safe place and call home, call her mom and get everything worked out.

Mom would be worried. At least she thought so. Mom worried when she, well, when she was sober.

At first she’d considered going back to Camden. She’d even started walking in that direction, but the farther she walked, the more she realized she might be in deep trouble if she came home. She’d taken the time to count the money. It was almost two million dollars. Too much to hide, too much to carry and too much to leave behind. So she went up north. That was all the reason she needed. She wanted to get some distance from Camden and the guys there who might really own the money she was carrying around. Because if she went home, if she got stupid and walked back into her old life with that much money and it belonged to Tony Parmiatto or any of his buddies, she was as good as dead and she’d have bet every dollar she had on her that it would be a slow death and very painful. You don’t steal from the mob; you don’t borrow from the mob without their permission. It was likely that somebody was dead because of the blood she’d been covered with. That somebody was connected to the money. That meant the money was blood money and the mob always collected on those debts. Always.

The mob was not forgiving. She’d learned that when she found out the truth about why her father disappeared. Do the wrong things to the Mafia and they returned the favor. She didn’t know if she had done them wrong or not and wasn’t sure she wanted to find out, but she wasn’t gonna take chances until she talked to someone.

Her legs still ached a little from the long run to jump onto a CSX car as it slowly rolled past. She’d had to run hard, and yeah, running in flip-flops, not such a great time, slinging the bag with every step. Then the bag went onto the car and she followed it. She slipped once and there was a line of red flesh along with a few scrapes to show where her shin had banged against the steel edge of the train car’s wide door.

There hadn’t been anyone in the car already so she hadn’t had to fight anyone. The sort of people that jumped trains, according to her mom, were the sort that would kill you as soon as look at you. Having seen a few of the men in her time, she could believe it.

She took the time to count the money while she was traveling. Then she counted it a few more times to be sure. Just a little under two million dollars. Crazy money. The sort of money the mob would come for. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh because it was all so damned crazy.

Once Tina was clear of the railroad tracks and the commercial yard where she’d climbed free, she headed down the closest access road. It followed next to I-95 and let her keep her eyes on the prize, as her mom liked to say.

While she walked, she thought about Tony. He was cute and sweet in his way and she didn’t like the idea that he might be the one that the money belonged to. She’d have to call him. She had to know what was going on and how deep she’d stepped in it.

Half a mile farther along she came across a motel. The sign said there were vacancies, and she sat outside in the bushes and watched for a while before going in.

The man behind the desk looked at her through the bulletproof glass that separated them. “Help you?” He looked about as interested in her as he was in watching mold grow on old cheese. That suited her just fine.

“Me and my mom, we need a room.” She’d told more than her share of lies since she was old enough to walk.

“Got any ID?” He took the time to look at her for a second, like it was a big favor.

She crossed her arms and gave him a look that said he was wasting her time.

“Then you’ll have to pay a security deposit. A hundred dollars. It’ll have to be cash.”

The room cost twenty-eight dollars a night. She’d seen the sign from the road. But she knew the deal well enough. A hundred dollars was a fortune, literally more money than she’d ever held in her hand until earlier that morning, but it was also enough to guarantee that the man didn’t care about her and her mom. He probably thought she was there to hook or to meet up with some guy she’d met on the Internet. From the look in his eyes, he’d forget about her for a hundred extra.

She needed his amnesia, so she reached into her pocket and fished out the small stack of twenties she’d put there earlier. He took the money and slid her a room key. “Checkout’s at ten in the morning. Leave after that, pay for another day.”

She took the key and grabbed her duffel bag and found her room.

Before she did anything else, Tina took a shower. She felt filthy. The blood was long gone, rubbed off by her hands, but she felt dirty, so she used the little bar of soap they offered in the dingy bathroom and scrubbed until her skin felt raw. Then she got dressed in the same oversized clothes, hid her bag under the bed and walked two blocks to the closest convenience store. Forty dollars bought her a disposable phone. Twenty more bought her enough time to make a few calls on it. They had a microwave, so she heated up three burritos and took those along with the biggest Pepsi they had back to her hotel room.

It was time to make some phone calls.

She ate on the way back to the room and killed most of her Pepsi too.

Five minutes after that the phone was activated-she lied about her name and address, but mostly because she was scared it might lead Tony to her somehow-and she was ready to make her calls.

That was the plan. She was asleep before it could happen, exhaustion and nerves getting the best of her.