by Landon Beach
“We don’t know where they are,” Papa Pete said. The blasted trace had not come in yet. “And we don’t know if they are aware of anything that has taken place in the last few days.” He took a drink of wine. “What we’d like to do is have you call your daughter on this phone, find out their location, and then tell them to wait there. I will send a security team to them and have them escorted back to your house where they will be safe until we find out who murdered Ciro and Big Joey.”
“Should I tell her anything that has happened?”
GiGi and Papa Pete exchanged a glance, one he thought she missed. “No, Angie,” Papa Pete said. “If they find that out before we can get to them, then they might do something erratic and perhaps put themselves in more danger. The less they know for now, the better. Plus, their rehab has been so miraculous—a true gift from God—that we dare not chance it now. They could hear the news and take off. It might break them.” He dove deep into himself and pulled out his innermost comforting tone, “I will have Father Tony standing by at your house to help you deliver the horrible news when they arrive. We will make it through this together, my sweet Angie. But it must be this way for their safety. You have lost a husband and a son; you will not lose a daughter.”
GiGi’s cell phone rang, and he moved away to answer it. In ten seconds, he pulled Papa Pete aside and whispered to him, “The phone is in Sterling State Park right now, about an hour south of here.” He paused.
“More?” Papa Pete asked.
“There was a third cell phone. We believe it belonged to River Nicky.”
Papa Pete’s eyes narrowed. “Location?”
“No. He must have destroyed it.”
“We’ll get it out of them when we catch them. Go let Fabian know. Have my yacht refueled immediately. We may need to use it.” He moved away, sporting a charming grin and sat back down across from Angela.
“Business never waits,” he said. “Things moved so much slower the last time I took a position like this.” He frowned. He toyed with his own cell phone in his hands. “Must be these crazy machines that are driving it, don’t you agree?”
Angela nodded.
Vanni filled Angela’s wine glass even more. Then, in a sweet voice that would put someone at ease right before having life-altering surgery, she whispered into Angela’s ear, “Take some of this to calm yourself. We will have them back at your house this afternoon. Safe and sound.” She kissed Angela’s cheek and then disappeared into the pool house’s kitchen.
Angela took a long drink of the wine, let it sit in her mouth, and then swallowed. “Dial the number for me, Pietro.”
And now Papa Pete had one of his own tears escape his right eye. “Of course, Angela.”
He dialed the number.
26
Sterling State Park, Michigan
1 Day Ago…
It was half-past two in the afternoon when the cell phone rang. Conrad Cranston and Stansie Russo sat at their site’s picnic table drinking water, recovering from their long hike. Conrad was using a pocket knife to chip off a sliver of pea-green paint that had started to peel from the tabletop. Whoever painted this did a poor job, Conrad thought. The table’s wood was new.
Probably a rush job before the summer started.
Sweat dripped from Stansie’s forehead and fell on to her phone’s screen, which she then wiped with the bottom of her tank top. “Should I answer it?” she asked him.
Conrad looked up from the tabletop and said, “I think you have to.”
“I’m putting it on speakerphone,” she said, then answered, “Hello?”
“Stansie, my love, it’s mamma.”
He never tired of hearing her mother’s calming voice, and he relaxed, knowing that it wasn’t Ciro.
“Good morning, mamma. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, dear, fine. How are you and Conrad?”
He grinned. Major points for Mama R.
“We’re well,” Stansie replied. “Did papa tell you when we were coming home?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk with you about. There has been an attempt on his life.”
Stansie gasped, and Conrad lowered his head. In one statement, his bubble of calm had been replaced with anxiety.
“Don’t worry,” Stansie’s mother quickly said. “Everyone is fine. However, we need to get you both home safely. Papa and Ciro wanted me to make the call. Do you understand me, Stansie?”
“I understand, mamma.”
Conrad nodded, his hands shaking.
“Good,” Angela Russo said. “We will need to think of a good place to pick you up, someplace public.”
“Well, as you know, we are just about an hour south of you at Sterling State Park in Monroe.”
“Sterling State Park in Monroe, yes, dear, closer to forty-five minutes with the way your brother drives.”
Stansie laughed. “Speed demon.”
“I know,” Angela said. “The entrance of the park will be perfect. Wait there. We’re sending two vehicles with our men. They should be to you around three-thirty.”
Conrad gave a thumbs up, feeling more sure about the situation now that a plan was in the works. Details, which had always been a source of limitation to his freedom, suddenly became a source of strength and control.
“What about the green truck?” Stansie asked.
“Leave it at the campsite. Someone else will pick it up later.”
Conrad thought he heard murmuring in the background and gave Stansie a puzzled look while raising his shoulders.
She nodded back, seeming to pick up on it too. “Mamma, are you on speakerphone?”
“Yes, my arthritis is kicking in again.”
“Who is in the room with you?”
“Oh, just Carlotta. I’m trying to stay out of her way as she cleans the library.”
Again, her mother’s voice calmed his nerves. Cleaning the library made perfect sense to him.
“Okay, mamma. Three-thirty. We’ll be waiting.”
“That is good, my child; help is on the way. We can hear all about your adventure over dinner tonight.”
“I love you, mamma.”
He smiled at Stansie.
There was a pause and then a diminished version of her mamma’s voice, “I love you too, Stansie.”
Whoa. What was that all about?
The phone call ended.
Stansie was shaking as she turned to Conrad.
“Your mom sounded different at the end. I mean, the plan sounds great. She’s probably just on edge because of the attempt on your dad, right?”
She tried to say something, but he kept on going, needing to get all of his thoughts out because he was scared shitless. “They’ll be here in about an hour.” He looked around. “Let’s keep our eyes open, though. We don’t need anybody sneaking up on us here.”
Stansie grabbed his forearm, while shaking her head. “That isn’t it.” Tears were forming in her eyes.
“What?” Conrad asked. Have I missed something?
“Mamma performed beautifully—for whoever is holding her. Conrad, the signal, known only to me, Ciro, and my papa, was if my mamma ever communicated anything directly to any of us, it meant that she and we were in grave danger and to not believe anything she said.”
“Oh shit!” he blurted out, losing control. “Sorry, sorry. But you told them we were at Sterling State Park!”
“They knew that already, I’m sure. They’re just trying to make it look like they’re worried.”
“But the only way they would know that is if they got a hold of Ciro’s phone or Nico’s...oh, God. Stansie, they might be—”
“Dead.” She said with a steeliness that proclaimed finality.
Think it through. Think it through. You’ve gotta get the two of you out of this. Nothing but the sight of someone sneaking up behind them and putting a bullet in each of their heads came to him. The hell with it all! “Okay, what do we do?”
Stansie was silent for a few moments, and he realize
d that a new dimension of her had just come alive—a calculating, intense, and powerful force that he had only seen applied to working out, drinking their waters, and their various sexual escapades. Now, he figured he would see it applied to a survival situation that was more common in her father’s line of work. He needed her blood to be ice-cold in that area right now, because he was a complete mess.
She spoke. “Okay, we need to split. It will confuse them. We haven’t much time, so we’ll check out of the park and drive away. A mile down the road, I’ll let you out, and it will be your job to reenter the park through the water. You’ll have to swim, so here, take this Ziploc bag and put your cell phone in it.”
“But shouldn’t the phone stay in the park—especially if they are tracking it?” How he came up with a good question, he had no idea.
“You’re right. What do you think?”
Jesus, don’t ask me to think anymore right now. Maybe if we had some wings and a six pack of cold ones I could concentrate… Stop it! Get a grip. He did. “Well, your Ziplock bag gave me an idea. I’ll put the phone in the bag and hide it underneath the tank lid in the far men’s stall in the bathroom. This way, they’ll think we’re staying put. I’ll still do the swim routine to reenter the park. Then, I’ll grab the phone from the toilet tank and hang on to it. I’ll hang around the bathroom and turn it off when I see who shows up. This will give us a way to know and recognize who might be tracking us. I’ll dash into another bathroom, hide the phone in the same way, and then I’ll hit the water and swim down the coast. I’ll stay there until midnight and then meet you back up front.”
“Right. Our bases are covered. If anyone comes to the front of the park inquiring about us, the park ranger can tell them that we left about an hour ago. I’ll drive for a few hours and check into a hotel. I’ll pay cash and wait in our room. Then, tonight, at midnight like you say, I’ll pick you up at the front of the park, and we’ll head back to the hotel and think about our next move.” She looked at her watch. “We have to move fast.”
He embraced her. “I’m with you. We’re ahead of them.”
He never felt more uncertain in his life.
✽✽✽
Grosse Pointe Shores
“You were magnificent, Angela,” Papa Pete said. “We will have them home soon.”
She did not make eye contact with him. “I know, Pietro. Thank you for your assistance. What you have done will never be forgotten by me.”
His charming smile returned, and he gave her hand one last squeeze. “So, after lunch, let us get you home. Vanni has cooked an entire meal and has already given it to your driver so that you may welcome your family home tonight with no extra stress. And when you are away, I will continue my search for those responsible.”
She nodded and continued her meal. Papa Pete took a sip of wine and dug back in too. “You need to come over for lunch more often,” he said. “Perhaps, once this is sorted out, I would have the pleasure of hosting you on one of my three-day cruises aboard my yacht?”
“I would enjoy that very much, Pietro.”
“So humble and kind. You are one in a million, Angie. And I will personally see that you are taken care of during this time.”
✽✽✽
Sterling State Park
Conrad took a right out of the park and headed North on Water Works Road. He wore water shoes, swimming trunks, and a white V-neck t-shirt. Right now, the phone was in its Ziplock bag and floating in the tank water underneath the tank lid in the far stall of the southernmost men’s room that serviced the southeastern camping sites.
He reached Sandy Creek and walked along the shore until he reached Lake Erie. After looking around and seeing no one, he waded out quietly up to his waist and then dove under. The water was as refreshing as it was this morning, and he began a smooth crawl stroke down the coast toward the beach in front of the southeastern campground where the phone was.
✽✽✽
Battle Creek, Michigan
Stansie pulled the green truck into the Econo Lodge parking lot. After paying cash for the room, she drove down to the local grocery store and bought a case of Evian water bottles, crackers, cheese, and energy bars. The provisions would get them by until they could reconnect with her mamma—if she was still alive. She closed and locked the door and then closed the blinds. Sitting on the double bed, she set an alarm for 10:00 p.m., then she arranged a wake-up call for the same time.
She had a quick bite to eat, and then laid down on the bed and waited—hoping for sleep to come.
✽✽✽
Sterling State Park
It was just before 4 p.m. when Conrad saw the two black SUVs pull down the road toward the southeastern campsite. He had the phone in his hand. There was no green truck and no Stansie. Good, everything was going as planned. There were two bathrooms in the campsite, and he was near the southernmost one. The trucks circled a few sites and then stopped at the northernmost bathroom. Six men exited each vehicle. Some of them looked familiar, possibly bumped into them at a party at Don Russo’s, or saw them walk by while he was outside mowing the lawn or trimming the hedges. When he thought they had all entered the bathroom, he poked his head out a little further around the concrete edge. Then, another man stepped around one of the vehicles and made eye contact with Conrad.
“Hey!” the man yelled. “I think I’ve got one of them!”
Shit! Conrad ran inside the bathroom and did the only thing he could do, call his older brother, Brad. As he finished the call, he heard the SUVs roar up to just outside the bathroom. Then, there was the loud slamming of doors and what sounded like a horn. He finished the call: “God, I hope this is still your home number. Don’t involve the police. Bigtime money.”
Then, he turned the phone off, put it in the Ziplock bag, and hid it in the left-most toilet tank. As a sign of surrender, he walked over to the sink and started washing his hands. Then, the door burst open.
✽✽✽
Sterling State Park
At precisely midnight, Stansie Russo pulled her green truck onto the side of the road, just a few yards from the entrance to Sterling State Park. After turning off the lights, she carefully exited the vehicle.
“Conrad? It’s me. I’m here, baby.”
There was some rustling from the trees behind the rear of the truck, and soon Conrad appeared.
“Oh, baby, we made it. Come and give me a—”
Two men sprang from behind the front of the pickup and grabbed Stansie, putting a cloth doused with chloroform over her mouth and nose. Her eyes shut, and her body went limp.
While she was still conscious, she hadn’t seen the chains attached to Conrad’s feet, which, now, three men pulled tight and walked up behind him.
“C’mon, we just want to have our own life, okay?” Conrad said.
Two headlight beams could be seen coming down the road, and soon the black SUVs arrived.
“Won’t you fellas even listen to me for a second?” Conrad pleaded. His voice was of desperation and filled with terror.
The men spun him around, and Conrad’s mouth was gagged, his arms were bound, and he was put in the back of the first SUV. While Stansie was shoved into the second SUV, the pickup truck was cleaned out, wiped, and then pushed into a ditch down the road. Then, the two SUVs took off north for their rendezvous with the yacht Empire State of Mind.
The two captives would be joining them on an evening cruise to South Bass Island.
27
Put-in-Bay, South Bass Island, Ohio
Present Day
Allison Shannon listened as Mike Martinson told her about the phones.
“Okay, the one phone number belonged to someone who lived in one of those massive mansions out in Grosse Pointe Shores. I dug a little further and found out that many members of the Detroit mafia live out that way. But the particular house where that phone seemed to stay put was owned by Ilario Russo, the Godfather of the Detroit Association. Was your friend’s brother involved with the mob?”
Allison asked Brad, and he responded with a look as if someone had just asked him if Conrad Cranston was the President of the United States of America.
“Um, we have no idea what Conrad was involved in.”
“Well, the other number is from where you’re both at right now: South Bass Island. The signal cut out a day or so ago, but the trace I was able to get had it pinpointed in a house on the southwestern shore of the island, just north of Lighthouse Point.”
“Our next port of call,” Allison said into the phone. “You just described a guy’s place who was seen with Conrad a few days ago. He’s got a bo—”
“Boat moored off of his place. I could see it in the satellite photos. Big one by the looks of it. Now, be careful—both of you.”
“We will, Mike.”
His voice became edgy. “You better take this seriously, Allison. Are you putting two and two together on this? You could have something going on between your missing hiker, someone high up in the mafia, and some guy who has a nice place out on South Bass Island. You said that Conrad was camping at Sterling State Park. Well, call old Mike crazy, but that looks like a pretty nice triangle for transferring product. Plus, your guy said something about money at the end of the message, right?”
“Yeah, a little more complex than we originally thought.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Mike said. “You two been following the news lately?”
“Not closely,” Allison said.
“Let me bring this up on my computer...let’s see...yep. Here it is. Mafia Don Ciro Russo gunned down in downtown Detroit three days ago.” He paused. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Allison replied.
“A little four-year-old girl named Nancy Murphy was killed too—shot in front of a hamburger joint. On vacation in Detroit with family. Jesus Christ.”
“My God,” Allison said. “This is the first I’ve heard about the girl. We did hear something about the new Don’s murder but had no reason to think it was connected.”