Reno Gabrini- the Man in the Mirror

by Mallory Monroe

  Trina looked worriedly at Reno. Reno stood up. Scaring him and his wife to death over this nonsense. Enough of this shit! “Where’s our son? Bring him in here. We demand to see him.”

  Whittaker took immediately offense. He got in Reno’s face, totally invading his personal space. “I don’t know who you think you are,” he said, “but I’m Agent Whittaker. Special Agent in Charge. You know what that means? That means I’m in charge. Not you. I’m running this show. And right now, that means you will sit your ass down and respond to my demands. Not the other way around. Now sit your ass down!” he ordered, and pushed Reno violently back down into his chair.

  Reno was so enraged that he was ready to jump back up and beat the shit out of that foolish agent. But Trina, knowing full well how far that would get them, jumped up, instead, and jumped onto Reno’s lap. She knew what these men could do to him. Especially those two Vegas detectives who knew him well and would love to pop a cap in his ass. And they would have an easy alibi. He rushed them, they would claim. And that get out of jail free card those cops loved to proclaim, where they would declare they feared for their lives and therefore shot and killed him, would see another victory. She wasn’t about to let that happen. Not to her man.

  “Call our lawyers,” she said to Reno. “There’s no law anywhere that gives them the right to interrogate our son without us being present. Call our lawyers now!”

  Reno knew Trina was diffusing the situation. He knew she was only looking out for his best interest. But still. That asshole had touched him! But he calmed back down. He would be of no use to Dommi, or any of his family, if he ended up in jail.

  He pulled out his cell phone. Trina, knowing her husband’s anger had settled back down, got off of his lap and sat back down in her own chair. Her heart was still hammering. She was still worried sick about Dommi. But at least he was alive, and his classmates were still alive, too. At least it wasn’t as dire as it could have been.

  But it was still dire. She was nobody’s fool. She knew what it meant when these jerks in the criminal justice arena had their hooks in you. And Dommi was a Gabrini? And a black kid, too? They would want to make an example of him just as sure as she was black. They couldn’t let that happen. She wasn’t going to let that happen! “Call our lawyers,” she said, again, to Reno.

  But Reno was doing her one better. He wasn’t calling any lawyers. He, too, had zero faith in the criminal justice system. He saw how all of those black men were being railroaded and killed for the flimsiest of reasons. And that kid in Cleveland? He was around Dommi’s age. Killed for holding a fake gun in an open carry state! In their eyes, Dommi would be just another black kid for the system to use and abuse. But not his kid. Reno didn’t call any lawyers. He called Mick the Tick. And the phone calls began.

  Mick called his niece’s boyfriend and CIA operative, Trevor Reese. Trevor called his brother Hammer Reese, the man who once was director of the fucking CIA! Hammer didn’t call Whitaker. Nor Whittaker’s boss. He called the president of the United States, and the president called Whittaker’s boss.

  It all took about twenty-five minutes. Whittaker was still interrogating Reno and Trina as if they were the worse parents on the face of the earth, and the detectives and the principal were getting their digs in, too. And then the phone call came. From Whittaker’s boss. And the Special Agent in Charge moved away from the group, to answer the call.

  Although he had moved further away to take the call, they could still hear bits and pieces of his conversation. “Hammer Reese? The president? You’re fucking kidding me!”

  But nobody was kidding anybody. The die had been cast. Whittaker ended his call, walked back to the group, and ordered the detectives to release Dominic Gabrini, Jr. into his parents’ custody. No charges were going to be initiated.

  Even the principal was shocked. “Release him? But why? He hasn’t proven that he didn’t say those horrid things!”

  “Release him,” Whittaker ordered the detectives again. Both detectives looked at Gabrini. It wasn’t as if they were surprised. Those Gabrinis had been beating the rap for years. One day it was going to catch up with their slick asses. But apparently not this day. The senior detective nodded to the junior one, and the junior one went to get Dommi.

  “And our daughter,” Trina said to the principal as she and Reno stood to their feet. They were in fight mode again. “We want our daughter, too. Neither one of our children will be coming back to this sorry-ass school effective immediately. Arresting a child for running his mouth? And bringing in the FBI and all of these cops like he’s on the ten-most-wanted list? Your judgement is wacked!”

  But when the principal continued to just stand there, Reno took up the fight. “You heard her,” he said to the still immobile principal. “Get our daughter, too. We’re taking our children and our money out of this fucking place. Remember that brand new gymnasium we were going to pay for? That three-million-dollar gym? Kiss it the fuck goodbye. You won’t get another dime of my money. A domestic terrorist. Get the fuck out of my face!”

  The principal seemed to realize his costly error. He seemed to realize that his tenure as principal, once the alumni association found out that the Gabrini money was about to be pulled, was about to come to a screeching halt.

  He notified his secretary to bring Sophie Gabrini to the office, as well. She was going home.

  But when Reno and Trina made it back in their car, with Dommi and Sophie in tow, they didn’t hesitate getting away from there. The press was out in force, and terrified parents, but the principal was announcing that all was well just as they were able to slip away. They had to find another school for their children to attend, and they dreaded it, but they weren’t about to allow a school that would take such drastic measures to have anything to do with their children.

  But that didn’t mean they didn’t have second thoughts. Trina sat in the backseat, in the middle, with their children. She held them both, and both leaned against her. She looked at Reno as Reno drove. “We’re doing the right thing,” she said. “By pulling them out of that school, I mean. Right?”

  Reno was having his doubts, too, she could tell. But then he exhaled. “I hate that they have to start over in a new school,” he said, “but I don’t see where we had a choice. He could have gone to jail behind that bullshit. We can’t take that chance.”

  “Although,” Trina added, “if another kid was accused of what Dommi was accused of, we would have wanted them to take even more precautions.”

  Reno nodded. “I know,” he said. “But they knew the kind of kid they had on their hands. They could have called us first. We could have handled this internally without cops and all of that FBI bullshit. They dropped the ball.”

  Trina nodded this time. “I agree. Accusing him of threatening to shoot people with a knife.”

  “Wasn’t that crazy?” Dommi asked. “And they didn’t even take my knife. That’s how mucked-up that was.”

  “Just be quiet, Dommi,” Trina said. “Your mouth is what started all of this. I just want you back in school, where you belong.”

  “Don’t worry,” Reno added. “If they handle this right, then we’ll probably let them go back. But only if they meet our demands.”

  Trina looked at him. “What demands?”

  “I’ll get calls from the alumni president and every member of the board. They will ask me what they can do to make this right. I’ll tell them to get rid of Principal Asshole and then we can talk. They’ll get rid of him in the blink of an eye. Our children will then return. It’s pride and politics. They want that gym built, so they want our children in their school. Money talks, Tree. No words could ever speak louder.”

  “It wouldn’t have to talk if that son of ours would have kept his mouth shut to begin with,” Trina said.

  “You know it,” Reno said, agreeing with her. Then he looked through his rearview at a now contrite Dominic. He was sitting in the backseat holding his sister’s hand and leaning against his mother. Look
ing, Reno thought, like some innocent angel when that boy wouldn’t know innocence if it bit him in the butt. “Why were you threatening those people, Dommi?” he finally asked him.

  “But I wasn’t,” Dommi said. “I told them I was just playing!”

  “Playing?” Reno and Trina asked in unison. “Why would you be playing about killing people and stuffing them into body bags?” Reno asked.

  Sophie laughed when she heard that. “He’s stupid,” she said.

  “I wasn’t talking about killing people,” he said. “I was talking about killing Al and Camden.”

  Trina frowned and looked at their son. “Who’s Al and Camden?”

  “Two brothers,” Dommi said. “They’re always bragging, and I was tired of it.”

  “What were they bragging about?” Trina asked.

  “Stuff,” Dommi said.

  “What stuff, boy,” Trina asked. “Don’t play with me!”

  “They said their dad was badder than my dad, and that their dad was more educated than my dad, and that their dad could knock the socks off of my dad. So I told them if they said that one more time I was going to kill them and stuff them into body bags and throw their rotted flesh out of the window.”

  Sophie grinned and shook her head. “He’s crazy,” she said.

  But Trina wasn’t grinning. She couldn’t believe it. “Just because they were talking that kid crap about their daddy being better than your daddy? Boy bye! You need to grow the fuck up, Dommi, and stop being so easily swayed by what people are saying to you.”

  “That’s easy for you to say, Ma,” Dommi said. “You’re a girl. But I’m a man and I have to defend my daddy’s honor. That’s only right.”

  Reno looked at Dommi through the rearview and smiled at him. “Damn right,” he said to Dommi, and Dommi smiled.

  But Trina was livid. “Reno!” she yelled. “Why are you encouraging him? He’ll pull that shit again!”

  “No, he won’t. He’ll come to me the next time. Won’t you, Dommi?”

  “Yes, sir. But what are you going to do about this time?”

  Reno had already been thinking about that. “What did you say those boys’ names were again?” he asked.

  “Al and Camden Schizeki. I hate them with a passion.”

  Reno smiled. “That’s a waste of your passion, son,” he said. “Trust me.” Then he looked at Dommi through his rearview. “And they’re the ones who snitched on you?”

  “Yes, sir. It was like it didn’t make any sense. I’ve said worse to them many times before.” Then he looked at his father. “What are you gonna do about it?”

  “Pay their parents a visit,” Reno said, “to make certain it doesn’t go any further than it went today.”

  Trina was surprised by Reno’s statement. “You think they could try this shit again?”

  “Why not?” Reno asked. “It failed this time. Why wouldn’t they go for another round of shame? Or, even worse, they could try to do to Dommi what Dommi had threatened to do to them. I’ve got to nip this shit in the bud.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The Schizekis lived in the suburbs. Not the exclusive lake estates where Reno and Trina had their home, but in a trailer park where every trailer looked the same. So similar, Reno thought as he drove his Porsche through the trashy neighborhood, that he wondered how they all could tell which trailer belonged to which.

  But when he arrived at the trailer he was searching for, got out of his car, and made his way to the front door, he didn’t give a shit. He was still reeling from that scene at the school. He was still inwardly angry that two boys could conspire to get his kid arrested. And would have succeeded had it not been for Reno’s contacts. If Dommi was to be believed, and Reno believed his son, those boys had been running their mouths nonstop about all of that braggadocio bullshit all school year. And Dommi was taking it. But as soon as Dommi turned the tables and called them out on their big talk, they ran to the principal with exaggerations and nonsense about fearing for their lives. The way Reno felt, he wanted to give their asses something to be afraid of. But he knew he had to keep his cool. But he also knew he had to be blunt enough that neither one of those brothers would ever pull this shit again.

  After ringing the doorbell, and after several knocks, the door was finally opened by the mother. A youngish woman with long red hair, she looked at Reno as if she was looking at the rent man, and she didn’t have the rent.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  “Is your husband here?”

  “May I help you?” the woman asked again.

  Reno removed his shades. “No, you can’t. But your husband can. Is he at home?”

  She looked Reno up and down again, made a little sucking sound with her teeth, and then closed the door back. Reno started to do something, like ring that doorbell again and knock on that door again, but his instincts told him to wait. She was going to get her husband.

  He was right. Within seconds, the husband appeared. And like the wife, he was equally perturbed. “Yes?”

  “Are you Mr. Schizeki?”

  “That’s right. Who are you?”

  “Dominic Gabrini.”

  Schizeki frowned. “Who?”

  “Your sons accused my son of domestic terrorism today.”

  “Oh. Yeah, so? That has nothing to do with me.”

  “I thought we could have a discussion.”

  “A discussion about what?”

  Reno couldn’t believe these yahoos. “A discussion about the allegation your sons made against my son.”

  “What about’em?”

  “I wanted to clear it up once and for all so it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Why would it happen again? They just told what he said. What’s the big deal?”

  “What’s the big deal? You do realize what happened, right? You do realize that your boys almost caused my son to be arrested as a domestic terrorist. And you’re telling me it’s no big deal?”

  “My boys didn’t call those cops!” Schizeki yelled. “You can’t put that on them!”

  The wife came back to the torn screen door. “What’s wrong?”

  “He’s trying to claim Al and Cam lied on his boy.”

  “I’m not saying they lied,” Reno said.

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying I want to make sure they understand my son, and that he meant no harm, so that this shit . . . this misunderstanding doesn’t happen again.”

  “He sent you, didn’t he?” Schizeki asked.

  Reno stared at him. “Excuse me?”

  “He ain’t your kid, is he? You’re not the father, are you? You work for him. I can smell guys like you a mile away. Wise guys. That’s why I didn’t want to do it. I knew you guys wouldn’t let us be!”

  “Mike, don’t,” the wife said.

  Reno was interested now. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about your boss. You tell him I paid my dues. I did what he said I had to do and that was going to be it. He said we’d be even and I didn’t have to pay him another dime. Not another cent! So I did it.”

  Reno knew he was talking about a loan shark. He owed a loan shark money, and was ordered to pay it back a different way. But that pay back involved Reno’s son? “You did it?”

  “I did my job! I got my boys to goat that Gabrini kid, whoever he was, and I got them to tell on him. That’s all I was supposed to do. And I did it! They’re at that posh school on scholarships. I can’t afford to send them to a place like that. But I’m the kind of guy they like to use.”

  “Who likes to use guys like you?” Reno asked.

  But Schizeki was on his own kick. “How do you think it makes me feel when I have to use my own sons to save my bacon? They didn’t have nothing to do with that money I owed.”

  “You owed a loan shark,” Reno said as if it were a fact.

  “As if you don’t know,” Schizeki said. “You work for him. That’s why you’re here. What more does h
e want?”

  “Just a name,” Reno said. “That’s all. Give me the name and you won’t have to see my mug ever again.”

  Schizeki and his wife were confused. They looked at each other, and then looked at Reno. “What do you mean give you the name? What name?”

  “Tell me who’s the guy you owed the money to. Tell me who’s the guy who made you use your sons like that.”

  Schizeki frowned. “Are you toying with me?”

  “Okay, I already know. I just need confirmation. Can you give me confirmation? Then I’ll be on my way.”

  Schizeki stared at him. He still didn’t understand it. But if it would get rid of this clown, he thought, why not? “Sam Roustinconti,” he said, and Reno’s heart stopped. “Sam Rouse is what some people call him.”

  “Wait a minute,” Reno said. “Sam Roustinconti told you to get your sons to goat my, to goat that boy from their school into threatening them? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. And I did it just like he said I had to. It’s not my fault if that boy’s daddy had connections and he didn’t get arrested. That had nothing to do with me. I lived up to my part of the agreement.”

  But Reno was no longer listening to him. He stopped listening after Schizeki confirmed that the man who ordered him to get Dommi in trouble was a man he knew well. Very well. Because Sam Roustinconti, the loan shark, was Reno’s longtime godfather. And Sam Roustinconti, Reno also knew, was a man who played the small game of intimidation, like getting Dommi into trouble, and then he’d go big.

  “Are you okay?” Schizeki asked Reno. “You don’t look so good.”

  But Reno was already done. Although he still stood there, his mind, his heart, his very soul had already left the building.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “I saw Val tonight,” Jimmy said as he and Trina sat in the living room of the penthouse. Still dressed in his suit and tie after a long day of work, Jimmy was leaned back in the chair with his legs crossed, while Trina, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, sat in a lounged position with her feet up on the sofa, and her laptop in her lap. She wore reading glasses and looked at Jimmy over their top tip.