The Leone Crime Family Box Set

by B. B. Hamel

  “You do the talking,” he said. “I’ll just linger and look menacing.”

  “Easy for you.”

  He smiled. “I’ve got that look, right?”

  “The crazy one, yeah.”

  “Exactly. It’s in my eyes.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Psychopath. Killer. No remorse.”

  “Yep, it’s all in there.”

  “You like it, for some reason.”

  “I guess I’m just too afraid to run away.”

  “That, or you know you’d miss that thing I do with my tongue.”

  “That too.”

  He grinned and found a spot on the right side of the street. He did a quick parallel parking job and jumped out.

  I climbed out more slowly. His shoes made a stomping sound on the concrete sidewalk. A couple kids sat on a stoop up ahead talking and laughing and looking at their phones. He led the way toward my father’s street, just a little alley between two major roads, sandwiched between larger buildings.

  The cobbled alley was wet like someone dumped water on it. Tanner made a face as we walked. “Smells like trash,” he said.

  I nodded at the dumpster. “Probably because it is trash.”

  He made a fake gagging sound and I laughed. He grinned at me, caught my hand. Sometimes he acted like a teenager in love and sometimes he acted like he barely understood how to function in the world. I couldn’t really rectify those two versions of him, and sometimes it scared me how radically different he could be, bouncing between the two extremes.

  We reached my father’s door and I knocked. There was no answer, so I knocked again, and again there was no answer.

  “Shall we?” he asked, stepping up next to me.

  “It’s locked,” I said, trying to the handle.

  He gently moved me aside then produced a little black soft pouch from his right jacket pocket. “Never a problem,” he said, and produced two little picks, which he proceeded to shove into the lock.

  It took him less than a minute to pick the locks. He held up a hand then went inside first, eyes scanning the space. I followed him next.

  The place looked even more barren than I remembered.

  “What the hell?”

  “Stay here.” He strode back into the kitchen. His face was dark as he came back out and headed upstairs. I lingered in the living room and stared at the empty mantel, the abandoned couch. There were no pictures on the wall anymore, nothing on the shelves. It was like someone had packed and left only the major furniture.

  It was eerie, like he’d never been there.

  “Same upstairs,” Tanner said. “Kitchen still has everything though. Refrigerator’s full.”

  “Think he just moved?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But I don’t like this.”

  “Let me call him.” I took out my phone and found his number. I dialed it and he answered on the third ring.

  “Hey, honey.” He sounded like he was far away.

  “Dad? Am I on speaker?”

  “I’m in the car,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “I haven’t heard from you in a little while,” I said, “so Tanner and I went to your place to check in on you.”

  Long silence on his end. I heard the sound of cars in the background.

  “You there now?” he asked.

  “Did you move?”

  He cleared his throat. “Listen, honey—”

  “Did you move?” I asked again. “Because half the stuff here’s missing. It’s like you left the furniture but took all the personal stuff.”

  “I’m jumping to a new location,” he said. “Just to be safe, you know? They found that house, so I thought—”

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

  Another short pause. “I wasn’t sure I could.”

  “What, because of Tanner?”

  “I don’t trust him. You know that.”

  “He’s working to save your ass.”

  “He’s a killer. He betrayed a contract. How the hell is anyone supposed to trust that guy now?”

  I opened my mouth to argue then snapped it shut. I held it there for a breath then spoke calmly. “Where are you now?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I just got some business, okay?”

  “Dad,” I said. “Where are you right now?”

  “Just on business,” he said. “Listen, honey, don’t worry about any of this, okay? I got it handled. I’m going to take care of everything.”

  “No, Dad, wait, don’t do anything.”

  “Sorry, honey, I’ve got to go.”

  “Dad—”

  But he hung up the phone. I stared at it then slipped it into my pocket.

  Tanner leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “Well?”

  “He says he moved because the Leone family knew where he lived.”

  He nodded. “Reasonable.”

  “But he also said he was going to… take care of things.”

  Tanner grunted. “Really now?”

  “He said I shouldn’t worry. And he’d handle it.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “No, it’s really not.” I crossed my arms and hugged myself. “Do you know where his people are? I mean, like, their hideout?”

  Tanner smiled. “They’re not bandits, you know.”

  “I know. But seriously.”

  “They’ve got a spot,” he said. “There’s a club they go to.”

  “Take me there.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah, right now. I think… I think he’s going to do something stupid.”

  Tanner watched me carefully. I couldn’t tell if he believed me, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I even believed myself. It seemed crazy to think that my father would attack the Leones. I had no real proof of anything, just a bad feeling and a couple vague comments.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  We left the house together. He locked up then walked fast to the Lexus. We got in, drove into traffic, and headed south. We moved over a few blocks to the west and he parked on a quiet neighborhood street in front of a house with a bright blue door.

  “Stay close to me,” he said.

  “Where’s the club?”

  “On the next block,” he said. “We’re not going inside. We’re just taking a look around. But don’t wander off. If any of them spots you, this whole thing is over and who knows what’ll happen next.”

  I nodded, fear rolling over in my gut. My palms began to sweat as we stepped out of the car. I stuck close to Tanner and kept my head down. He strode along the sidewalk like he owned the world.

  At the corner up ahead, a low black building butted up against the tall red brick facade of the residential row homes. The windows were dark and the words PUTTY’S PLAYHOUSE were stenciled in red on the glass. The door was bright red and two big black trashcans flanked either side of it.

  Tanner lingered at the corner then crossed. He turned right, moved to the far side of the building, and stepped down a short alley that cut down the center of the block between the two rows. He held up a hand as he lingered just inside the alley, listening for something, then walked to the back door. He pressed his ear up against it and waited.

  I stood nervously pacing. He seemed to turn into a statue, not moving a muscle. I wanted to scream and shout at him but I couldn’t seem to work up the nerve.

  He moved back and walked to me. I leaned against the back wall of the house behind us. He put an arm to the right of my head and dipped his mouth down toward my ear.

  “Guys in the back room,” he said. “More than a few of them.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded, his expression hard. “I couldn’t hear what they were talking about. But they were talking about something.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going in the front,” he said. “You’re going back to the car.”

  “Tanner—”

  “Listen to what I’m saying.” He tilted my chin toward him
. “Do what I say.”

  I chewed on my lip. “Are you sure?”

  “Do it,” he said. “Go back to the car. Sit in the back seat and lean down low. Don’t move, don’t talk to anyone, don’t take any calls. Understand me?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  “Good girl.” He kissed me gently then pulled back. “Go now.”

  I turned and walked away. My heart raced so hard I thought I might fall over. But I reached the sidewalk, crossed the street, and found my way back to the car.

  It was unlocked. I got into the back and slumped down low, just like he wanted.

  And sat there to wait, my mind reeling with possibilities.

  28

  Tanner

  Something I learned from my years of being a hitman: nobody ever watched the front entrance.

  Especially not in the middle of the day. And especially when the place was full of guys.

  I took out my picks and made short work of the lock. The door opened nice and quiet. I slipped into a dark vestibule and groped for the next door. They hadn’t bothered to lock it.

  I smiled as I opened it and moved into the main room at a low crouch.

  It was empty. Tables filled the central space. A bar was pressed against the right side and a stage with a couple poles occupied the whole back wall. Chairs and stools were up off the floor, and the laminate flooring looked like it’d been mopped recently.

  Strip club, but a clean one. Must’ve just bought it. I wasn’t surprised. Elise’s father was known for running a tight ship.

  I moved along the right side, in front of the bar, and headed toward the back room. Lights shone around the cracks of a single door at the end of a short hallway. Two bathrooms were on my right, both locked. I lingered outside of the door and strained to listen.

  But heard nothing, at least nothing definitely. I heard voices, snatches of conversation, some laughter. I counted maybe ten guys back there, which wasn’t a good sign. I thought I heard the click of a magazine slipping into a gun.

  I could bust in there. It’d probably scare the hell out of them. Might cause a little chaos.

  Not the best move though. I lurked in the darkness, waiting, waiting, trying to be patient. I forced my mind to be quiet, wouldn’t let myself go through all the bad outcomes that might shake out. I had to keep it together or else risk fucking this whole thing up.

  Finally, my patience was rewarded. The door opened and I pressed myself against the wall behind it. A big guy with a bald head grunted to himself, chuckling at something he’d just heard back in the room. He wore a denim shirt and a pair of ratty jeans, like he was some kind of city cowboy. He had a gun in a holster at his hip and a big, bushy mustache.

  The door swung shut. I stepped out of the shadows as he turned toward the first bathroom.

  I pressed my gun against his neck.

  He let out a surprised grunt. “Is that—” he started to say, then stopped when he saw my face.

  “Don’t talk,” I said.

  “Who the fuck—”

  I pressed the gun harder against his throat. “Don’t talk,” I said again.

  He nodded, eyes hard. His hands hovered at his waist.

  “Hands in the air. Nice and slow. Fingers laced behind your head.”

  He raised them up, placed them behind his head.

  I reached around him, took his gun from his holster, shoved it into my waistband.

  “All right,” I said. “What’s your name?”

  “Roy,” he said.

  “Roy, nice to meet you. I’m Tanner. I need a little help, okay, Roy?”

  “Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s a bad idea,” he said.

  “What do you think I’m here for?”

  “Money,” he said. “You with the Leones? You just some stupid shit that walked in off the street?”

  “None of the above.” I tilted my head. “You must be a nobody if you don’t recognize me.”

  “Who the fuck—”

  “Quiet, Roy,” I say gently. “I will kill you. It’ll bring your buddies out, and I’ll probably have to kill a few more of them too. But after the smoke clears, I’ll have a talk with your boss.”

  Roy stared at me. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

  “Let’s go in the back, shall we?” I asked. “Come on, Roy. All you gotta do is walk and keep your mouth shut. You can do that. Try not to piss yourself too, huh?”

  I grabbed his arms and turned him. I kept my gun pressed against his neck, angled up toward his brain. It’d kill him fast and cause a hell of a mess.

  He stumbled forward to the back door. I reached around him and pulled it open. Light spilled out.

  Inside, eight other men sat around a series of three tables with an assortment of guns stacked all around them. Shotguns, rifles, pistols, even a stack of what looked like legitimate grenades. They were laughing when we walked into the room, but the laughter stopped when they caught sight of Roy with a gun to his throat.

  “Okay,” I said, talking loudly and keeping Roy between me and his buddies. “Let’s all stay calm.”

  Eight guys jumped to their feet. Chairs scattered back to the floor. Weapons raised and pointed at us.

  “Guys,” Roy said. “Calm.”

  “Thank you, Roy, but if you talk again I will kill you.”

  Roy grunted.

  “Who the fuck are you?” a voice called out. “Who the fuck is this? Should we waste the bastard?”

  “And kill Roy?” another answered. “Shut the hell up, you idiot.”

  “Boys, I’m just looking for your boss,” I said. “Where’s Drago?”

  Silence from the peanut gallery.

  “Boys, don’t make me ask again,” I said. “Nobody wants blood on their hands today.”

  “Tanner?” Drago’s voice came from behind a stack of boxes. He walked toward me, an assault rifle in his hands. “Tanner, is that you?”

  “Hey there, Drago,” I said. “Looks like a nice party.”

  “Jesus Christ,” he said. “Put that gun down. Everyone stand the fuck down. Guns down right now.”

  Nobody moved.

  “Listen to your boss,” I said.

  “He’s got Roy,” the first voice said.

  “Stand the fuck down,” Drago said. “Right now, you morons. That’s Tanner, the hitman. He’ll kill half us before we manage to bring him down.”

  “Thank you, Drago,” I said. “That’s very kind.”

  The men slowly lowered their guns. I lowered mine, but kept it pressed against Roy’s kidney.

  I stepped to the side and looked at the group. They were a motley crew, young and old, scarred and clean. I couldn’t tell where Drago found them, but it didn’t matter.

  “You’re gearing up,” I said.

  “That’s right.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  Drago gently put his rifle down on a table and held his hands up. He smiled at me and stepped forward.

  “You know what,” he said.

  “Let’s have a conversation,” I said. “Come with me. Front room.”

  I yanked at Roy and turned my back to the crew. It was a risky maneuver, but a worthwhile one. I couldn’t talk to Drago in front of his guys, not if I wanted results.

  I pulled the door open, shoved Roy through. He stumbled, cursed, and let me push him back into the main room. I dragged him over to the stage and stood him next to it. I hopped up and sat on the edge, legs dangling, gun pointed at Roy’s neck again.

  “Almost done,” I said. “Don’t worry.”

  He stared at me. He didn’t move or respond.

  Drago came into the room a second later. He had his hands up.

  “All right, Tanner,” he said. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to stop this bullshit,” I said.

  “Too far for that.”

  “You haven’t left. You haven’t fired a shot. It’s not too late.”

  “What do I tell those boys back there?” he asked. “They�
��re all fired up. You want me to just pull the plug?”

  “I want you to be smart.”

  “You know I can’t back down. You know that’s not how this works.”

  I sucked in a breath. I let it out through my teeth. It hissed like a whistle.

  “We’re so close,” I said. “We’re so close to finishing this. If you can just keep your dick in your pants for once in your life and abstain from trying to fuck Don Leone, this could be all over, and you might actually profit. But you just refuse to play along, don’t you?”

  “You know that’s not how this goes, Tanner,” he said. “We’re not that kind of people. We don’t make arrangements. We don’t make agreements. We take what we want.”

  I hopped down off the stage and walked to Drago. He stared at me and I saw the flicker of fear in his eyes. Roy didn’t move, but I kept an eye on him in my peripheral.

  “You’re going to be better,” I said. “For your daughter’s sake. You’re going to march back there and tell them that this is all over.”

  “No,” he said.

  So I punched him in the face.

  He staggered back and gasped. I didn’t hit him too hard. Really just a love tap. But I got him right in the mouth and his lip was a bloody mess.

  Roy flinched, almost dropped his hands. I looked at him and pointed the gun. “Don’t,” I said.

  Drago put his hands to his bloody mouth. “You fucking psycho,” he said. “You realize I’m going to kill you now, right?”

  “No, you’re going to go back there and cancel this little trip,” I said. “Do you hear me?”

  “Fuck you.”

  So I hit him again. Another love tap. That time I used the butt of my gun and nailed him right in the eye. Fucker stumbled and dropped to his knees.

  Roy took a step closer.

  “Move again,” I said, “and you’re dead.”

  Roy’s eyes burned.

  “Fuck you,” Drago said. “Oh, damn it. Fuck you, asshole.”

  “Go tell them you’re finished,” I said. “For your daughter’s sake, not for mine. It doesn’t matter to me anymore. Leone’s probably going to try to kill me either way.”