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Carlita sucked in a breath. “What do you think?”
“Considering we might end up owning this gem, it probably wouldn’t hurt to look around.”
“True. Good point.” Carlita unbuckled and reached for the door handle. “Regardless of what happens, I suppose I am curious to see what the place looks like.”
“Hang on. Let me scope it out first.” Tony climbed out of the vehicle and stepped onto the sidewalk. Checking in both directions, he gave them the all-clear signal.
As soon as they were out of the car, he clicked the key fob twice, making sure the doors were locked.
With him leading the way, the three of them trekked toward the front entrance facing Morton Street.
Tony twisted the doorknob. “It’s not locked.” He pushed on the frame. It refused to budge. “The door is swollen shut. Stand back.”
Carlita and Mercedes took a step back.
Shifting his weight, Tony lifted his foot and landed a solid blow to the frame. The door popped open. “Stay here.”
Mother and daughter warily watched as Tony, his hand in his pocket, the one Carlita was certain held his gun, crossed the threshold. He disappeared from sight, reappearing moments later. “The coast is clear. You can come in.”
They started to follow him in, and Tony stopped them. “I think I should warn you—this place is a hot mess.”
Chapter 9
Carlita braced herself for what was inside 8807 Morton Street. She took a tentative step across the threshold. Despite her son’s warning, she wasn’t prepared for what was waiting for them on the other side.
“Good gravy.” Mercedes let out a low whistle. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was a hot mess.”
“More like a firebombed mess.” Carlita’s sharp eye took in the charred ruins. Blackened walls. Gaping holes. What appeared to be insulation hung in shreds from the sagging ceiling panels. Exposed pipes, covered in black streaks from some sort of soot, ran from the front of the building to the other end.
Tony nudged a singed cardboard box with the tip of his shoe. “This looks like a mob hit.”
“A mob hit?” Mercedes echoed. “You mean like…drive by, toss a firebomb in the door and the place goes up in flames?”
“Vinnie must’ve replaced the door, especially if the original was blown to smithereens.” Carlita’s stomach churned. Is this what would happen to her beloved Ravello’s restaurant if she didn’t agree to Danny Lombardo’s terms? Or even more horrifying, the apartments where Mercedes, Tony, her granddaughter Violet, her pregnant daughter-in-law Shelby lived?
And then there were her tenants who were like family. Luigi, Cool Bones, Sam, Autumn. Carlita would never forgive herself if something happened to any of them and she could have prevented it.
“Now I know why the property taxes went down. In fact, after looking at this place, I think the taxes are too high and I’m gonna dispute them.”
“It’s not worth much in its current condition,” Tony said.
“Not in my book.” She voiced her greatest fear. “If the mob would do this to your father’s junky old building, what will they do to our place?”
Tony pressed a light hand on the back of his neck and spun in a slow circle. “I think Vinnie needs to see this.”
Carlita pulled her cell phone from her pocket and snapped a picture. She forwarded it to her oldest son and asked him to call her.
Her phone rang seconds later. “Hey, Ma.”
“Hey, Son. You got my picture?”
“I did. Is this the property Pops owned?”
“It is,” Tony answered. “Ma has you on speaker. Mercedes is here too. It looks like the place got firebombed a long time ago. We want your expert opinion.”
“About the damage?” Vinnie asked. “I hate to say it, but this looks like the work of the family.”
“So maybe Danny Lombardo firebombed the building,” Carlita theorized.
