“No, really, your money is no good here. There will be other expenses, for the girl.” Burim had already decided the girl had to be his missing daughter. The coincidences were too extraordinary. And if the girl’s personality resembled that of his late wife, he was going to need some cash to even hope to control her.

“Of course,” Buda said. He had been expecting this. “I think ten thousand is a fair amount for the girl.”

“For her inconvenience,” Burim said. Buda nodded at Fatos, who leaned back and shuffled some bills under the table and presented Burim with a thick wad folded in half.

“Either way,” Buda said, “daughter or no daughter. If she is not your daughter, you can keep the cash for your expenses.”

“You have been very thoughtful,” Burim said.

“And you have been very cooperative,” Buda said.

Buda and Burim shook hands across the table, and in turn all four men shook hands, making the agreement as binding as any legal document in Albanian tradition and logic. The men finished their meal quickly, and with the takeout in hand, they left. Burim, having left three twenties on the table as a tip, was detailed to follow Buda, who would lead the way in a motorcade of sorts.

As Burim walked out of the restaurant, he patted his pocket with the fresh bulge of cash and smiled, thinking it was going to be an interesting and profitable evening.

Chapter 61.

61.

GREEN POND, NEW JERSEY
MARCH 25, 2011, 11:15 P.M.

There was nothing the occupants of the summer house could do but wait. Prek sat next to Neri on one couch with Genti and Pia sitting opposite. He had thought about tying her up, as he should have done before, but he didn’t want to make a worse impression than he had to. Besides, the girl wasn’t going anywhere. Prek had found an old T-shirt in a closet and gave it to Pia to wear along with one of his own New York Jets sweatshirts he kept at the house. The jersey came halfway down her thighs. She also wore a pair of soccer socks pulled up to her knees. She had draped a towel over her shoulders, but she was still shivering.

Pia sat and glared at Neri. That was the guy who had touched her, she was sure of it. She stole glances at the other guys too—the one who seemed to be in charge with the thick scar on his upper lip, and the guy with the dominating nose. She wasn’t entirely certain but believed they were the men who had attacked her the night before. She recognized their voices.