Reno and Sal Gabrini: Fire with Fire

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Reno and Sal Gabrini: Fire with Fire Page 7

by Mallory Monroe

“We’re fine, Ma,” Sophia said.

  “I don’t know why they called you,” said Dommi. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Gabrini,” the principal said, “this is our resource officer. He responded to the incident this morning.”

  “Hi,” said Trina.

  “What happened?” asked Reno.

  “Would you care to have a seat?” the principal asked.

  “No, we wouldn’t,” Reno responded. “We would care to know what’s going on with our children, and why we were told to come here.”

  The principal glanced at the resource officer with an I told you so look on his face. But the officer seemed more understanding. To him, they were just two very concerned parents. “A student, a male student, got into a shoving match with your daughter,” the officer said.

  Reno was shocked. “With my daughter?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “A big ugly dude, Dad,” said Dommi. “Even bigger than me.” Then he exaggerated. “Even bigger than you!”

  “Shut up, boy,” Trina said to Dommi. “Go on, Officer,” she added.

  “When your son got wind of what was happening, he ran to her defense and knocked the young man down.”

  “Damn right,” said Trina. “He was defending his sister.”

  “That’s what I said!” said Dommi.

  “Yes, he was,” said the officer. “And that would have been fine had it ended there. But it didn’t stop there, ma’am. Your son also punched the young man repeatedly and then, if that wasn’t enough retribution, he tossed the young man over the second floor bannister.”

  Trina frowned. “He what?! Is he hurt?”

  “No, thank God,” said the officer. “He did not require any medical treatment. But--”

  “But what?” asked Reno.

  “But because this was violence on school grounds, the rules require a further investigation by L.V.P.D.’s special crimes division.”

  “Further investigation?” Dommi asked. “It was just a fight!”

  “I will give my report,” the officer continued, “outlining what happened, and my recommendation, too. But they, in consultation with the DA, will have the final say.”

  “What’s your recommendation?” Reno asked.

  “No charges should be filed.”

  Reno nodded.

  “But I am instructed to inform you that during the investigation your son cannot leave the city of Las Vegas without permission, nor the state of Nevada regardless.”

  “Well how long does an investigation take?” Reno asked.

  “Two to six weeks, sir,” said the officer. “If we’re lucky.”

  Trina shook her head. “And they call justice fast and fair when it’s rarely either.”

  The officer smiled. “Understood, ma’am,” he said.

  But then Reno had a question. “What about the kid that pushed our daughter?” he asked. “Are they going to investigate him too?”

  The officer nodded. “Yes, sir. He and his parents have been informed as well.”

  “Good,” Trina said. “Because he was wrong too.”

  But when the Gabrini family left the principal’s office and made it outside, Dommi felt he had to correct his mother. “That boy was wrong like you said,” he said, “but I wasn’t wrong. He started it. I finished it.”

  That sounded like something Reno would say, and Trina knew Dommi was picking up on all of Reno’s ways. It scared her. “Just get in the car, boy,” she said as they headed toward her Mercedes. “You threw that boy over a bannister. You could have killed him.”

  “But he pushed Sophie!”

  “And he was wrong for that. But what you did wasn’t right, Dommi. You pushed him down. That was enough. But then you had to beat the shit out of him and toss him over a railing too? Get your ass in the car!”

  But as they were heading to Trina’s car, Reno, who was uncharacteristically quiet, pulled Dommi slightly back. Dommi looked at him. Was he disappointed in him too?

  He wasn’t. He looked his son in his eyes. “That’s how you do that shit,” Reno said.

  But Trina heard him. “Reno!” she cried. “You know he was wrong.”

  “For defending Lexie?” Lexie was Reno’s nickname for his daughter. “Like hell I know it!”

  “He was supposed to defend her, yes, he was. But he went overboard with it. And you know it. You can’t condone that.”

  “He didn’t harm the kid.”

  “But he could have, Reno.”

  “But he didn’t, Trina! He taught him a lesson. His ass won’t touch my daughter again, I’ll bet you that. Dommi’s a protector. He’s like his old man when it comes to that. He can’t help himself.”

  Trina shook her head. “When somebody dies and he’s doing Life in prison, I want you to come and tell me that then. He overdid it. He has to learn to control himself better, I don’t care what you say! And you need to tell him that.”

  Trina stood there looking at Reno. And although Reno didn’t agree with her: Dommi was no pussy and never would be. But he knew, in front of their children, they had to show a united front.

  He looked at his son. “Next time, Dommi,” Reno said, “you beat his ass like you did, and let that be enough. No throwing kids over bannisters. Understood?”

  But Dommi was already on cloud nine. His old man was proud of him and he’d already all but told him so! “Yes, sir,” he said, and got into his mother’s car.

  Reno helped Sophia in, kissed her, kissed Trina, and then watched as they drove away.

  But mainly he watched as his men, two cars deep, followed them.

  And he wondered if, by some fluke, was that kid paid to attack his daughter. Was somebody being messy for reasons that he couldn’t even begin to figure out? Wouldn’t be the first time.

  When he got into his Porsche, he did two things: he phoned Stef Siranno and ordered him to get a couple men to find out all they could about Sophia’s attacker.

  Then he phoned Sal.

  Sal was the godfather to his entire family. He kept Sal in the loop no matter what. Reno had the business savvy, but Sal had the connections. If something was in the wind, he’d be the first to find out about it. And would already be in position, by virtue of his proximity and reach, to help Reno do something about it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Your Honor, may we approach?”

  Gemma Jones-Gabrini, along with the opposing counsel and the judge, made their way to a side bar beside the bench.

  In the very back of the courtroom, Sal was watching his wife in action. Not by design. He had too much on his plate to have time to hang out in some courtroom. But because he wanted to clue her in about what he found out regarding the target of Sunday night’s shootings. And what happened at Dommi and Sophie’s school. He wanted to make sure she was okay. She wasn’t the target last night, and Sophia might not have been at that school, either, but a threat to one of them was a threat to all of them. He wasn’t taking any chances.

  He had phoned Gemma’s law firm, but they told him she had a hearing. He made his way to the courthouse.

  But it wasn’t just a hearing. She was in the middle of a murder trial and he had to wait. So he sat back and watched her do her thing.

  People were coming and going, mainly lawyers he assumed, until one attorney sat next to another attorney on the bench directly in front of Sal. But to Sal’s surprise, and unlike any of the other attorneys who had come and gone and sat on that very same bench, the new attorney had his focus on Gemma too.

  “Who is that?” he asked the attorney who was already sitting there.

  At first Sal thought he was talking about the defense counsel, a tall blonde. But his fellow jurist replied, “the black one?”

  “Yeah, her. Who is she?”

  “That’s Gemma Jones.”

  “Gabrini, asshole,” Sal wanted to say. But he, instead, said nothing.

  “Is she any good?” asked the first attorney.

  “She’s goo
d,” said the second one. “I worked second chair alongside her on a couple cases before. She’s professional. Smart. She’s good.”

  “Not that way,” said the first attorney. “I mean good. You know. As in bed.”

  The lawyer smiled. Sal’s jaw tightened. “How would I know anything like that?” the second lawyer asked. “Not that I didn’t want to get into those panties. I did. But she’s not the type to hit and run, and that’s all I’d be interested in doing with a chick like her.”

  The first attorney continued to stare at Gemma. Sal could see him look her sleek body up and down as if she was a side of lamb. “Not the type, hun?” he asked his fellow jurist. “I’ll bet you she’ll become the type when I get through with her.”

  The second attorney laughed. “Man, you’re crazy. That’s Sal Gabrini’s old lady. You think you’re going to fuck Sal Gabrini’s old lady and get away with it?”

  Tell his ass, Sal thought.

  “Bump Sal Gabrini!” the first lawyer said. “I fucked Reno Gabrini’s old lady and got away with it. Why couldn’t I take her too?”

  Wait a minute. Sal couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Did that idiot say he fucked Trina? Trina? She was the only old lady Reno ever had!

  He was bullshitting, Sal decided. He had to be! Or, if he wasn’t, was that the reason why Reno became so defensive when he mentioned Tree might have a personal issue with Pump Futarda?

  But then the Judge was back on the bench and Gemma and her opposing counsel were back behind their tables. The two lawyers shut up, and everybody had to pay attention to the judge.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the judge said, “this trial will be in recess until 9am tomorrow morning. Jurors, you’re excused for the day.” He banged his gavel, and the courtroom began to empty.

  But Sal was still struck by what that mouthpiece had said before the judge spoke. The part about Reno’s old lady, and him fucking her! And when the second attorney made his way toward the well of the courtroom to check out the judge’s docket for his upcoming hearing, the first attorney, the one who had done all of the boasting, stood to go up front too. But Sal stopped him.

  He placed his hand firmly on his arm. When the attorney turned around and saw who had touched him, he tried to smile off his apprehension.

  “I would like a word with you,” Sal said to the lawyer.

  “A word?” He wasn’t as boastful now. “May I ask what about?”

  Sal looked him dead in the eyes. “Reno Gabrini’s old lady.”

  Sal could see the sudden fear in his eyes. “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “I was sitting behind you. I heard what you said. Now we can make this nice and simple and go out in the hall and discuss this like two adult men, or we can make it nasty. And in that case, I’ll discuss it with you later, at a time and place of my choosing. Nice and simple it will not be. Which do you prefer?”

  It was a Hopson’s choice, the attorney knew, because it was really no choice at all. It was really a take it or leave it situation, with the leave being far worse than the take. He took it, and headed out of the courtroom with Sal.

  Once in the hall, they walked toward the back side of the courtroom door, and the attorney sat down his thick briefcase and leaned against the side wall. Sal placed both hands in the pants pockets of his double-breasted Armani suit, and stood in front of the lawyer.

  “May I ask you a question?”

  Sal studied him, but didn’t respond. He knew he would continue talking.

  “Are you her husband?”

  “Am I Reno Gabrini? No.”

  “No, I know who Reno Gabrini is. But are you Sal Gabrini? I know your name, but I’ve never seen your face. Are you that attorney inside the courtroom’s husband?”

  Sal studied him again. An overall big mouth, he decided, but he was nobody’s pushover. “Yes,” he said.

  “Look, I wasn’t trying to make any moves on your wife, okay,” the attorney tried to explain. “I was just talking. I was just running my mouth.”

  “Oh, I know you were just running your mouth about my wife. Nobody’s touching her. Least of all you. That’s not the issue. Were you running your mouth about Reno Gabrini’s wife? That’s the issue.”

  The attorney seemed to hesitate, which scared Sal. And when he answered, it didn’t alleviate Sal’s concern one bit. “What’s it to you?” he asked him.

  Sal stared at him. He knew who he was. He was a lawyer, he had to know what he was about, or, at least, what he was rumored to be about. Why the fuck the arrogance?

  And suddenly Sal had an idea. He had no facts, but he had a strong suspicion. “I know you,” he said.

  The attorney didn’t expect to hear that. “You know me?”

  “Yeah, I know you. You’re Pump’s lawyer, aren’t you?”

  The fact that he didn’t immediately deny it, or ask who Pump was, told Sal all he needed to know.

  The lawyer seemed spooked, as if he didn’t expect Sal to be that quick. “I don’t discuss my clientele,” said the lawyer.

  Sal moved in closer to the lawyer, invading his personal space. “Look, asshole, I’m tired of fucking around with you. Do you know Pump Futarda? Yes or no?”

  The attorney felt the heat of Sal’s invasion. “Yes,” he said.

  “And that shit you said in the courtroom, about fucking Reno’s wife. Was that true? Yes or no?”

  “Me fucking her? No. I was just running my mouth.”

  But the way he said that didn’t sit right with Sal. “Why are you prefacing it? You didn’t, but somebody else did? Is that what you’re implying?”

  “I didn’t touch her.”

  “But who did motherfucker?” Sal asked. “Don’t play with me! Who did? Pump?”

  The lawyer didn’t respond.

  Sal frowned. His heart was hammering, he was inwardly begging that it was not so. “Pump?” he asked again.

  The lawyer nodded his head. “Yes,” he said. “It was a one-night stand. She wouldn’t allow any more contact. But it happened.”

  Sal knew this had to be a bunch of b.s. But why the b.s., was the question? “Is that why Pump put a hit out on her?” Sal asked. “Because of some one-night-stand shit?”

  But the lawyer was shaking his head. “I don’t know about any hits out on anybody. I just know about that one-night affair. And I only know about it because I was in his office and overheard one of their conversations. Pump wanted another night with her. She refused. That’s all I know.”

  This shit was too coincidental to be true. Way too coincidental! “Where’s Pump now?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “You’re his lawyer.”

  “On criminal matters, I was one of his lawyers. He hasn’t had any criminal matters lately, at least not in the last couple weeks, and I’m no longer on retainer. I have no idea where he might be.”

  Sal rubbed his forehead.

  “But as I stated,” the attorney said, “I was just running my mouth. You have nothing on me, and I have nothing further to contribute. But I do have a hearing to prepare for. May I be excused?”

  Sal frowned. “You’ll be excused when I fucking say you’ll be excused.”

  The attorney smiled. “Hello, Officer Holder!”

  Sal turned quickly, startled, when the attorney said those words, and saw a cop heading their way. “Testifying today?” the attorney asked the cop.

  “Yes, unfortunately,” the uniformed policeman said.

  “May I have a word? That is,” the attorney added, looking at Sal, “if Mr. Gabrini here will excuse me?”

  Sal didn’t want to excuse him at all, but he knew he was on the wrong turf all around. He stepped aside. The attorney, grinning, went over to the cop, and both, in a sudden conversation, disappeared inside the courtroom.

  Within seconds, Gemma made her way out of that same courtroom. When she saw Sal, she smiled and walked over to him. “I thought I saw you in court. What’s up?”

  Sal rubbed her arm. “You don’t wanna
know,” he said.

  But Gemma didn’t like that answer. “How do you know what I don’t want to know? Tell me, Sal.”

  Sal still hesitated.

  “Sal! Tell me. What is it?”

  He looked around, saw what looked like a couple of defendants sitting on the bench outside of the courtroom. “Got another case?” he asked her.

  “No, I’m through for today. We’re in recess until tomorrow.”

  He therefore placed his arm on the small of Gemma’s back and they began heading down the long corridor that led to the elevators.

  But Gemma wanted him to talk as they walked. “You’re killing me with the suspense, Sal. What is it?”

  “Hey, Gemma.” Another attorney walking by.

  “Hey,” Gemma replied. But she kept her eyes on Sal.

  “You know that lawyer that went into that courtroom just before you came out?” Sal asked her. “He was with a cop?”

  “I don’t know who he is, but I saw him go in, yeah. What about him?”

  “One of his former clients is the man that hired those goons to take out Tree last night.”

  Gemma was puzzled. “To take out Tree? You mean she was the target?”

  “That’s what I’m hearing, yeah. Who did you think it was?”

  “Mick Sinatra was there last night. Who do you think it was?”

  “Yeah, I guess you would figure it to be him. Or at least me or Reno. But no. It was Tree. And that fool of a lawyer just gave me a reason why she was the target.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “It’s bullshit, Gem. I don’t even wanna repeat it.”

  She wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “Why, Sal?”

  “According to that character, Tree supposedly had a one-night stand with the guy.”

  Gemma stopped in her tracks. “Wait,” she said, and Sal stopped walking too. “Say what now?”

  “I told you it was bullshit.”

  “He claimed Trina and the shooter--”

  “The man who hired the shooters,” Sal corrected her.

  “He claimed that guy and Katrina Gabrini had a one-night stand?”

  “That’s what he claimed, yeah.”

  “And when was this one-nighter supposed to have taken place?”

 

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