SIX
One cool thing I discovered. Driving a transport truck is like riding a bicycle. It didn’t take me long to remember how to get the thing in gear and start shifting up. Steering was as I remembered. It was a beast, compared to my frisky little car.
Nico led the way, driving my car. About five minutes later we pulled into a small, deserted plaza. It had a convenience store, a tobacco shop and a small garage with one gas pump.
I may have mentioned that I am writing a book, Burglary for Dummies. Nico is helping me edit it. I was pleased to see that he carefully executed the instructions in chapter 17: Always park around the back.
Me, I couldn’t do that because of the length of the transport. Luckily, this place was set up for trucks, so I was able to pull in without having to execute a sharp turn. I took the beast all the way to the end of the lot, keeping away from the shops.
Nico was already coming around the side when I got the truck stopped. In the process of getting out of the cab, I discovered something. This is definitely a situation where you want to dress for the occasion. I don’t recommend a long wraparound coat and high heels.
Nico didn’t notice when I fell out of the cab. He was already galloping over to meet someone.
“Hi, Danny!” he said.
From my vantage point on the ground, I could see a young man approaching. He had a wide grin on his face. The dude was super slim with nice brown eyes and black hair that went halfway down his back. He wore jeans and a worn brown-suede jacket.
“Nico!” They embraced like old friends. Kind of weird, I guess, for guys to embrace, but we’re Italian, and Nico is Nico.
When they separated, Nico said, “Gina, this is Danny Brant. This is my cousin Gina, Danny.”
Danny watched me struggle to my feet. He gave me a big smile. “Heard about you.” He had a soft tenor voice. “You got a rep and a half in this burg.”
“It’s nothing,” I said modestly, brushing gravel dust off my coat. Wait a minute. Why was I—
“They call you Mini Mags,” said Danny.
“They WHAT?” Oh crap. People were comparing me to Mad Magda?
“No shit,” said Nico, eyes wide and excited. “That’s top of the league.”
“I’m not—oh for crissake,” I said. Mad Magda is a legend in the world of cat burglary. I’m not in that class at all. I’m not even in the same school district.
“The Lone Rearranger and Mini Mags. We’re getting famous, Gina!”
I watched in horror as Nico and Danny high-fived each other.
I didn’t want to be famous. I didn’t want to have a rep of any sort. And I sure as hell didn’t want to spend any more time than I had to with a truck full of bootlegged hooch.
“Em, can we get going here?” I said. “I’m getting married in three days, and there’s sort of a lot to do.”
“Sure, Gina. Let’s go inside, Danny.” Nico and Danny led the way into the building, and I followed. Nobody else seemed to be around. Danny led us through the tobacco shop to a little office off the back.
“Can I use the washroom?” I asked.
“It’s right over there.” Danny pointed.
I didn’t really need to go. But I wanted to get away from any paperwork business Nico and Danny were conducting. The less I knew about this new aspect of family affairs, the better. Well, new to me anyway.
Bootlegging. Who’da thunk it? Talk about retro.
I killed some time in the bathroom, which was surprisingly clean and pretty. The walls were painted a light peach. A wallpaper accent border circled the room, just under the ceiling. Someone had provided a bowl of cinnamon-scented potpourri for the counter.
First thing I did was check my cell phone. Two texts, from Luca and Mario, both about crows.
Also while in there, I spent a few minutes thinking about the events of that morning. It hadn’t started well. Getting mugged in your hometown is not a banner way to begin the day. It’s doubly bad when you are a member of the local crime family. Off the charts when it’s your own family mugging you. If this ever got out, our entire family reputation would be toast with marmalade. I could just imagine my crappy distant cousins in Buffalo howling about it.
No question, I wasn’t breathing a word of this to anyone.
I slung my purse across my chest. Just when I’d decided it was probably safe to come out of the washroom, the yelling started.
SEVEN
“The truck! Gina, the truck!”
I dashed out of the complex to find Nico running across the parking lot. He came to a full stop. Then he sank down on the gravel with a dramatic groan. I moved my eyes from him to the empty spot in front of him.
The truck gave a final toot goodbye. We all watched the back end of it pull onto the highway.
“They stole the truck.” Nico groaned again. “Are you sure Zia Sophia didn’t see two crows?”
“SHIT!” I yelled, throwing my arms in the air. This was definitely a day beyond crap. “But who?”
“Didn’t see,” said Danny. “Heard the engine start and rushed out here, but…”
“They were already pulling away,” said Nico. He moaned like he was in pain.
“Wait a minute. Why are we waiting here? Nico, we have to go after it! Come on!” I turned on my heel and took off. I raced toward the back of the strip plaza. Nico and Danny were close behind me.
My car was right there, waiting. We all climbed in and slammed the doors.
I did a record three-point turn and was on the highway in seconds.
“Can you see it?” I said, squinting through the windshield.
“Just barely,” said Danny. He pointed with a finger. “Straight down the highway, up ahead. There are a few cars in between us.”
I stepped on the gas. Nico groaned in response.
“How did they even get it started? I have the keys right here.” I checked to make sure that my purse was still slung across my shoulder.
“They have ways,” said Danny in his laconic way.
“Who has ways? Who would even do such a thing? It was a family truck! Is this guy insane?” You have to be nuts to steal anything from our family. Everyone knows that. And this was a big hulking truck full of…let’s say, merchandise.
“What am I going to tell Magda?” Nico was rocking back and forth, holding his head in his hands.
“Forget about Magda. What are we going to tell Uncle Vince? It’s his truck!” I said, gripping the steering wheel with both hands.
You have to know my godfather, Uncle Vince, to fully understand that sentence. Let me try to explain. You know how Dr. Who is a Time Lord? My uncle Vince is a Crime Lord.
Suffice it to say, you don’t want to cross him.
“Actually, it’s Aunt Miriam’s truck. All the vehicles are in her name,” Nico said. “For tax reasons.”
“Oh freakin’ hell,” I said with a shiver. That made it way worse. Even my godfather doesn’t mess with Aunt Miriam.
“He’s slowing down,” Danny said, pointing. “That’s Hagersville up ahead. You have to slow down to sixty.”
“Good,” I said with satisfaction. “We’ll catch up.”
“And do what?” Nico’s voice rose an octave. “Exactly what are you planning to do, Gina? Hit them over the head with your purse?”
“I’m not letting them get away,” I growled.
“I’m calling Sammy,” Nico said. He unhooked his phone and punched some numbers.
“You can call whoever you like, but I’M NOT LETTING THEM GET AWAY!”
Nope, I was fed up. Like, totally. Everybody was taking advantage of me these days, and I wasn’t going to put up with it anymore.
First, I get mugged by that totally skinny dude. And now those bastards steal my truck. I hate being made a fool of. They were going to pay, man. I was gritting my teeth something fierce.
“What are you mumbling, Gina?” said Nico. Then he turned his attention to the phone. “Oh, hi, Sammy. We got a situation here.”
; “They’re going into that Tim Hortons parking lot,” said Danny from the backseat.
“Yup…Yup…We’re at the Tim Hortons in Hagersville,” said Nico into the phone.
“No, they’re pulling around the corner so they don’t have to go into the parking lot,” said Danny, all eager.
“I see it,” I said.
I booted it up to the light, ready to turn. Doors opened on the truck cab, and two big guys heaved themselves out. They had long black hair and each weighed at least a hundred pounds more than necessary.
“Uh-oh,” said Danny. “Those are really bad hombres. I know them. You don’t want to mess with them, Gina.”
“They don’t want to mess with me,” I mumbled. No kidding. I was having a really bad day.
“Gina, Sammy wants to talk to you.” Nico held the phone over to me.
“Sammy can freaking well wait,” I said.
I pulled up and screeched to a halt right behind the truck. The two bad guys were out of sight now, getting their donuts and coffees inside. Conveniently, they had left the truck running.
“Move over to the driver’s seat and follow me,” I shouted to Nico. “Keep your cell phone on.”
I pushed open my door and vaulted out.
“Hey, Gina, what…” Nico’s voice trailed off behind me.
In ten seconds I was at the truck. Another five and I had the driver’s door open. I threw myself up into the driver’s seat and gave the door a good slam. Before I could get the truck in gear, the passenger door opened. Danny slid in and said, “Get moving! I think they saw us.”
I stumbled getting the truck into first. Then the thing jumped as only big hulking monsters that carry massive amounts of bootleg shit can do. “CRAP!” I yelled, then tried again and managed first.
I was vaguely aware of a commotion outside. Honestly, I was putting all my concentration into getting the damned vehicle moving.
Bang!
“Holy shit, they’re shooting at us!” said Danny. He dove under the dash.
Bang, bang!
“They’re freaking nuts!” yelled Danny.
Two bullets hit the box or the cab. I couldn’t tell which and figured it wasn’t a good time to check.
I went through gears like they were disposable. More shots rang out behind us. The truck shot from the shoulder onto the highway, quickly followed by a little silver car—my car. With Nico at the wheel.
We bolted down the highway, totally ignoring the speed signs. I could barely hear the gunshots now.
For some weird reason, I felt elated. “We did it!” I said to Danny. “We stole the truck back!”
“I am thinking this isn’t going to end well,” said Danny, poking his head up.
“Oh, don’t be such a wuss,” I said. “We whupped their asses.” Ha! Take that, universe. Gina Gallo is back in black. I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. My confidence was back again. Reclaiming a hijacked transport from a bunch of thugs will do that to a girl.
We drove for a few miles at a pace somewhat over the speed limit. I checked the side mirror of the truck. No cars following us. The coast was clear.
I was still feeling my high.
“We seem to be heading toward Brantford,” said Danny as another signpost passed by.
“What’s in Brantford?” I asked quite innocently.
“No idea. I’m just pointing it out, as we seem to be going away from the place where this truck was supposed to end up.”
“Rats,” I said, remembering our purpose. “So you want me to turn around?” I had no idea where to turn around. This was Grade A farmland. Not a crossroad in sight.
“You know what? I can take it from here,” Danny said. “I know the drop-off point.”
“Really? You can drive this rig?”
Danny grinned. He really was nice-looking, with beautiful brown eyes. “I can drive it. My family is into tobacco farming. I drive those trucks all the time.”
“What a relief! If I stop here, is it okay?”
Danny nodded.
I signaled right, so Nico would know what I had in mind. Then I slowed down and maneuvered the truck onto the shoulder. Nico pulled up behind me. We all got out of the vehicles. This time I managed to stay on my feet instead of rolling onto the gravel. Nico came running to meet us.
“Danny is going to take it from here,” I said.
Just then my cell phone rang with Pete’s signature tune. “Hang on a sec,” I said to Nico and Danny.
“HELLO,” I yelled into it.
“Whoa, babe. Not so loud.”
I tried to steady my voice. “Sorry. I’m outside, and there’s a lot of noise.”
“Where are you?”
I gulped. Logical question. I needed a logical answer, quick.
“I’m helping Nico make a delivery. From the store.” Well, it was half true. I didn’t mention that we had recently been through a hail of bullets and were now parked by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.
“You know it’s nearly six. We were going to have dinner together before the bachelor party.”
Six! Crap. “Sorry, Pete. The time got away from us.” I signaled frantically to Nico. Then I used that hand to cover the phone. “It’s the bachelor party tonight!” I said to Nico.
Nico’s eyes popped. “I was supposed to pick up Pete.”
I uncovered the phone. “I’m thinking you might want to take a taxi, Pete. We’re sort of running late and will be stuck here for a bit.”
“No problem. I’ll get a cab.”
I said goodbye and turned back to the boys. Nico and Danny were doing that hug thing again.
“Thanks a mil, Danny. For everything,” said Nico, pulling back.
“We owe you for this,” I added.
“No probs.” Danny smiled and shrugged his narrow shoulders.
“Let me know if we can ever do anything for you,” I said. “I mean that.” And I did.
Danny shoved his hands into his jean pockets and looked off in the distance. “You’re my friends.”
EIGHT
We waited until Danny had the truck in gear. When it set off down the road, Nico and I got into my car.
“Isn’t she great?” said Nico.
I was confused. “What, the car?”
“No, silly. Danny.”
She? Danny was a she?
Well, that explained the gorgeous cheekbones.
“Gina, I know this is last-minute. But can I bring Danny to the wedding?”
“Sure,” I said, my tone bright. “One more won’t break the budget. Just make sure to let Aunt Vera know, for numbers.”
What a day for surprises. As we pulled onto the highway, I could almost feel his happiness.
The bachelor party was at the Knights of Columbus hall. I pulled up in front to let Nico out. Three thugs were standing on the sidewalk, having a smoke. Unfortunately, they spotted me. So I did the friendly thing. I got out of the car with Nico to say hi.
“Hey, Gina,” said Joey. He actually looked happy to see me. “Looking forward to the big day?”
I grinned back. “Can’t wait for it to be over. Would you want Aunt Miriam running your wedding?”
His tank of a body did a little shiver. I knew it would. Mere mention of that name has a terrifying effect on the men in our family.
Joey is a distant cousin of mine from Buffalo. At one time, he would have liked to be a “kissing cousin.” That wasn’t going to happen. Even then I was fussy about my men. Thugs didn’t make the list.
Bertoni had his usual sneer on. He is as skinny as Joey is solid. It is said in the family that Joey could bench-press a Volvo station wagon. Even with Bertoni sitting in it.
Lou was the third goon of the bunch. He is okay. Not too much in the brain department, but he is big on respect. Since the art-gallery reverse heist of last month, I am riding high in the family.
“Where’s Carmine?” I said. He is the last of my degenerate Yankee cousins and the worst of the bunch.
“Still in New York. Coming with Big Sally and the rest on Friday.”
I nodded with a forced smile. I keep my distance from Big Sally, who heads up the New York branch of the family. With any luck, they wouldn’t get here because of the storm.
And I could seriously do without Carmine. The rat-faced fink had nearly bankrupted me a few months back by pulling a rotten scheme while babysitting my store. I got him back but good, and it has been an uneasy truce ever since. While I don’t generally approve of blackmail as a career choice, it has its uses.
“Lainy coming to the wedding?” Bertoni asked.
“Of course. She’s my maid of honor. She’ll be here on Friday.” All the boys have a thing for my best friend, Lainy. You may have heard of her. Lainy McSwain and the Lonesome Doves were currently singing in Vegas. They were topping the country charts with their new hit “You’re Roadkill on My Highway of Life.”
“Will she be singing at the reception?” asked Lou, all excited.
“That’s the plan. See you all on Saturday,” I said. “Have fun tonight.”
I gave a little wave as I took off.
On the way home to my condo, I thought about the whole male-bonding thing. Pete said bachelor parties weren’t really his thing. I believed him, but I didn’t mind him going to this one. It would give him a chance to bond with my male relatives. This was a good thing, because they really don’t welcome a whole lot of outsiders into the family. And you really do want to be welcomed, believe me. The alternative is unpleasant. A few of the non-welcomed are now swimming with the fishes in Burlington Bay.
Besides, he couldn’t really get out of going to his own bachelor party. Guy parties like these were a big excuse to gamble, drink too much and eat all kinds of junk food.
Also, a lot of business was conducted at these things. Pete would avoid that part. But I knew him well, and he would hold his own with the gambling and drinking. It was a good thing he’s a big lad with an Irish constitution.
Man, I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was get home, have a quick supper and take a long bath. That wasn’t asking too much, was it?
The gods hate me.
***
I pulled into the driveway and my usual parking spot. I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and climbed wearily out of the car.
The Bootlegger's Goddaughter Page 3