Tommy Gabrini: Every Which Way But Loose

by Mallory Monroe

  “Captain Gabrini, what happened?”

  “Did your officers kill civilians?”

  “Are officers down?”

  “Is it true your brother is involved in this shooting too?”

  “Cap, why can’t you tell us what happened? The citizens have a right to know!”

  But Tommy and Stone ignored them and headed up the steps at 1219 and into the small home. Sal and all four of his men were in the kitchen, sitting at the table. But Tommy ordered Stone to take him to see the victims first. The deceased couple had not yet been processed.

  When Tommy went into the bedroom and saw the couple, his heart dropped. They were old people, easily in their late sixties, a man and a woman shot multiple times. How could Sal have allowed this to happen? “What do we know?” Tommy asked Stone.

  “They’re married,” Stone said. “Both pushing seventy.”

  “They lived here?”

  “No,” Stone said. “They were visiting from Nigeria.”

  “Don’t tell me that,” Tommy said with agitation in his voice.

  “I know, right? That fact alone is going to make it an international incident. The Nigerian government is going to want our asses on this one.”

  Tommy ran his hand through his thick hair. The strain was already showing on his face. “So who were they visiting?”

  “Their son. He and his wife are American citizens. According to the son, who’s on his way, his parents came to stay for a few weeks. Tonight, he and his wife asked the parents to babysit the children so they could go on a date night. Some date night.”

  Tommy looked at Stone. “Where are the kids?”

  “In the other bedroom. We have a lady cop with them until the parents can get here. Just seeing any guy throws the kids into hysterics. They think a guy will point a gun at them again.”

  Tommy knew it was going to be bad. He didn’t know it was going to be so bad it couldn’t possibly get any worse. He headed for the kitchen.

  The kitchen was pin-drop quiet as Tommy walked around the table and then sat at its head. He crossed his legs. Although Christie immediately began defending their actions, insisting that it was just an unfortunate accident, Tommy kept his eyes on Sal. Sal was the highest ranking officer of the group. Whatever shit went down was on him.

  “What happened?” Tommy asked his younger brother. He could see the pain in Sal’s big eyes. He could see how stunned he still was and how disappointed he was in himself. But he couldn’t be any more disappointed in himself than Tommy was.

  “One of our snitches gave us a tip on a drug deal going down,” Sal said. “Snitch gave us the wrong number. We bust down the wrong door.”

  “Who authorized it?” Tommy asked.

  Sal didn’t flinch. “I did.”

  “You don’t have the authority to authorize shit,” Tommy responded. “And you know it. But go on.”

  “We came up here,” Sal said, “and found the old man reaching for a gun. So we shot him.”

  “Just him?” Tommy asked.

  “And her,” Sal added, his heart aching over the awful mistake.

  “So what’s the story on her? She was reaching for a weapon too?”

  Sal’s men looked at Sal. They hadn’t discussed that little problem. But Sal handled it. “We thought so, yeah,” he said.

  Tommy stared at his brother. Lie after lie he was telling. Tommy knew he was lying, and it broke his heart. When Tommy became a cop, he worked his ass off to uphold the law. When Sal became a cop, he worked his ass off to skirt, to undermine, to live above the law. “Was a gun recovered?” he asked his brother.

  But Christie answered instead. “Yes, sir,” he responded and pulled a gun out that he sat on the table. “They had a gun just like we said.”

  Tommy looked at the weapon. He knew it was what cops called a plant gun. He also knew that not one of his officers in front of him would ever admit it. “Who did the shooting?” Tommy asked.

  “We did,” Christie said.

  “Who, Sal?” Tommy asked, ignoring Christie.

  “I did,” Sal said.

  Rookie looked at him. His heart was already pounding. He was already certain his career was over before it had a chance to begin. And he was maybe even looking at prison time. But Sarge was taking the fall for him? He couldn’t believe it.

  Tommy couldn’t believe it either. None of it. And he was tired of being put in a position where he had to defend this unbelievable shit. “You don’t make those kind of mistakes,” he said to his brother. “Now tell me the truth. Who was the trigger happy cop who pulled the gotdamn trigger?”

  Sal didn’t flinch. “I told you I did. I did it. If there’s any heat, it’s falling on me.”

  Tommy loved his brother dearly, but this was no game. This was no negotiable ethical dilemma. “And we wonder why our citizens hate cops,” he said as he stood up. “Hand over your weapon and your badge.”

  Sal’s men were stunned. “Cap, you can’t,” Cully said.

  “Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” Tommy said with a frown on his face. “Your weapon and your badge,” he said again to Sal.

  Sal stood up and began handing both over.

  “But Cap,” Christie said. “That’s not right.”

  But Tommy’s anger flared. “What the fuck you mean it’s not right? I run a police department, not a fucking fraternity! Two people are dead. Two innocent people. And they died at the hands of one of you assholes who’s always pushing the envelope. Now your asses have pushed it over the cliff. So don’t talk to me about what’s right. There is a protocol for every officer-involved shooting. If that officer discharges his firearm, he has to be suspended pending an investigation. Protocol has been invoked. Sergeant Gabrini is under protocol right now.”

  The cops were stunned. They all looked at Sal. Tommy was too angry to look. Times like these he hated his job even more intensely than he already did. Then he frowned. “Everybody out except Sal,” he said. “Go home. Shut your mouths. Stay there until further notice from me.”

  Although the men hesitated, they knew they were up against a buzz saw when it came to Captain Gabrini. They left, with each one squeezing Sal’s arm as they did. Rookie and Sal exchanged a look that even Rookie understood: Sal would handle it. He was to remain silent.

  When they all were gone, Sal handed, and Tommy accepted, his weapon and badge. Sal walked over by the sink and threw water on his face. He knew he should have followed his gut. He knew it!

  When he turned to Tommy, he could feel his disappointment.

  “Your crooked, racist ass shouldn’t be a cop,” Tommy said pointblank. “You know that.”

  “Fuck yeah I know it,” Sal responded.

  “Then why did you ever become one?”

  Sal looked as if it was obvious. “Because you’re one. Because Pop’s one. It’s what we do.”

  Tommy already felt a burden for his brother. This didn’t help. “You didn’t shoot those people,” Tommy said. “You know that too.”

  Sal didn’t respond. Tommy respected that decision. Sal had been in charge. If anybody goes down, it should be the man in charge. But not based on a pack of lies. Not based on tampering with the crime scene. Not based on planting evidence. “There will be an investigation,” he said. “Because it involves you, and because I’m the captain and our father runs the department, I’m going to request an outside agency spearhead it.”

  Sal was surprised. “Outside? Pop won’t go for that!”

  “Pop has nothing to do with it,” Tommy shot back. “It’s my call, and I’m making it.”

  Sal and Tommy stared at each other. They both knew this was the needle that broke the camel’s back. They both knew Tommy had allowed Sal and his posse to get away with murder time and time again during his tenure on the force, and enough was enough. “Your men killed two Nigerian grandparents who were home with their grandkids. Their country is not going to let us sweep this under a rug. Our country will not allow us to sweep this under any rugs.�
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  Sal nodded bravely. “Understood,” he said.

  Then Tommy exhaled. “It was Rookie, wasn’t it?”

  Sal didn’t respond.

  “I know you won’t give him up. But it’s a hellava thing, Salvatore.” An anguished look appeared on Tommy’s handsome face. “I can’t protect you. Not on this.”

  Sal nodded. “Yeah, I know. I knew we were screwed when it happened. But I’ll be buried in my grave before I become a snitch.”

  “I’m not asking you to snitch,” Tommy fired back. “I’m just asking you not to lie. You swore to uphold that badge. It’s your responsibility to tell the truth. But fuck it, right?”

  Sal smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes. “Right,” he said. “I understand how shit goes.”

  Tommy stared at his brother, and then shook his head. “Get out of here,” he ordered. “I can’t protect you on this one. Understand how that shit goes.”

  Sal understood that too. And left.

  But Tommy did protect Sal. With their father’s blessing, he appointed an ally to spearhead the investigation. The investigators whitewashed so many aspects of the evidence that the oversight committee had no choice but to rule it a justified shooting. Nigeria objected, and so did the Nigerian Citizens Counsel. But new news quickly dominated the headlines, and it was all quickly forgotten.

  But Tommy didn’t forget it. He didn’t forget the terrified look on the faces of those dead grandparents. He didn’t forget the fact that thugs like the Gabrinis had no business with police badges. He resigned the day after Sal’s exoneration.

  And Sal Gabrini, known back then as Tommy’s shadow, followed his big brother and resigned too.

  Now Tommy was sitting behind his desk at Gabrini Capital, looking over a nefarious postcard. He pressed the intercom button. “Claire, get my brother on the phone,” he said.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Sal? Sal? There you are!”

  “Hey, babe.” Sal Gabrini lifted the barbell from his chest and placed it back onto the rack. He was breathing heavily. “What are you doing here?”

  Gemma, with her cell phone in her hand, looked around. They were in their home gym. Sal, bare-chested and in puma shorts, was hot and sweaty, Gemma noticed. And muscular and fine, she also noticed. “Your phone was ringing. Didn’t you hear it? Where is it?”

  “It’s around here somewhere. So what it’s ringing? It’s always ringing. So what?”

  “So what? Tommy’s office has been trying to reach you. That’s what.”

  Sal heard his big brother’s name and quickly sat up, as Gemma knew he would. She handed him her phone. “Thanks, babe,” he said. “Tommy?” he said into the phone. “Oh, hey, Claire. Put him on.”

  There were several seconds, and then Tommy came onto the line. “Good morning.”

  “Hey. What’s going on? Gemma said you’ve been looking for me.”

  “You remember Joe Culligan?”

  “Cully? Sure. What about him? I thought he was in the car business last I heard.”

  “He came by to see me this morning. He received a postcard.”

  “A postcard? What kind of postcard?”

  “A warning shot.”

  “About what?”

  “The card came from Lagos.”

  Sal frowned. “Legos? What the fuck are Legos? Like those building blocks the kids play with?”

  Gemma shook her head. Her hubby.

  “Nigeria, Sal,” Tommy said. “Not Legos. Lagos, Nigeria.”

  When Sal heard that name, he paused. “Nigeria?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what was the card about?”

  “Whoever sent that card claims to know what happened that night.”

  Tommy didn’t have to say what night. Sal never forgot it. “That’s some old shit, Tommy. Why would that suddenly come up? And who sent the postcard?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “The son maybe?”

  “Maybe. Or one of your men. Hell, it could be Cully playing games for all we know. Have your people look into it.”

  “No doubt, no doubt,” Sal said. “It’s done. Don’t worry. If there’s shit going down, I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

  “Let me know.”

  “I will.”

  “Still coming Thursday?”

  “I am, but not Gemma.”

  “Court again?” Tommy asked.

  “Court again,” Sal said. “It’s what lawyers do. They go to court all the time. That’s why I can’t stand their asses.”

  Gemma, a lawyer, folded her arms and gave Sal an oh, really look.

  “Except for one ass,” Sal quickly corrected.

  Tommy laughed. “Grace will be disappointed, but I’ll see you when you get here. Give Gem my love.”

  “Gemma,” Sal said beyond the phone, “Tommy says he loves you.”

  “I love you, Tommy!” Gemma yelled with a smile.

  “Love you, girl!” Tommy yelled back. And then the call ended.

  Gemma looked at Sal. “What did he want?”

  “Nothing. Just some old shit came up. I got it.”

  “In other words,” Gemma said, taking her phone, “none of my business.”

  “In other words,” Sal said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back and down onto his lap, “I prefer to talk about you.”

  “Just talk?” Gemma asked.

  Sal smiled. “Among other things,” he added, and kissed her long and hard.

  The Ferrari dashed out of the lane in that swift way he drove, and turned into the parking lot of the Diamond restaurant. Shelby James and Annie Kirkland were already parked inside the lot and could see the valets hurry to assist the new arrival. Shelby smiled and shook her head when the valet opened the door on the driver’s side, and Tommy Gabrini stepped out.

  “That’s him?” Annie asked as they both stared at the tall, muscular figure.

  “That’s him,” Shelby said. “It’s been a long time. But he hasn’t changed one bit.”

  Annie was shaking her head too. “Damn, Shell. You didn’t tell me that white boy looked like that.”

  But Shelby dismissed her friend’s excitement. “He’s good looking. So what?”

  “No, Shell, he is not good looking. You and I? We’re good looking.” Annie looked at Tommy again. “But that man right there? That man is magnificent. And he owns this fancy restaurant too? That’s what I call a catch.”

  “Yeah, he thinks so too,” Shelby responded dismissively as she looked Tommy up and down. He wore an Armani suit, and was buttoning it across his obviously ripped abs as he stood outside of his car, and just looking at him again brought back a flood of old memories. She shook her head again. “I can still remember all those nights I spent with that man. All those wasted nights and all those wasted tears I shed over that man.”

  “I know what you mean,” Annie said. “I’ve shed my share of tears too. These men aren’t worth our effort, I tell you they aren’t.”

  “But that’s the problem,” Shelby said. “He was worth it. I knew he was. And I tried to get him. I tried with every wile I could come up with, Annie, you should have seen me. But he would never commit.”

  She continued to stare as Tommy headed toward the entrance and the valet gladly hurried to park his Ferrari. “I wasn’t the one he wanted,” she added.

  “Was he good in bed?” Annie asked as Tommy disappeared inside the restaurant.

  Shelby looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “Of course he was good in bed! Why do you think I wanted him?”

  Annie thought it was for many reasons, like love for instance, but she didn’t respond. Shelby went hard when she was disagreed with. Annie kept her disagreement to herself.

  Shelby pulled out her makeup compact and pulled down the overhead visor. “I better get myself together,” she said as she refreshed her lipstick. “It’s been years since he’s seen me. I need him to be blown away when he sees me again.” Then she hesitated. “I’m counting on it.”

&
nbsp; “Just do what you do, Shell,” Annie said. “He’ll want you back. They all do when you put in the effort. Why would you think he would be any different?”

  “He’s married now,” Shelby said as she powdered her cheeks.

  “Who did he marry? Some mousy white woman home raising his kids?”

  “No, she’s black like us. And she’s mousy alright. More like a bookworm than a bombshell. But she’s hardly home raising kids. She owns her own business.”

  “Really? A mousy bookworm? So he married against type?”

  Shelby nodded. “Totally against type, girl. I’ve known Tommy Gabrini for years and I’ve never, not ever known him to find some bookworm of a mouse of a woman like her attractive. Every woman he’d ever been with was just like us. Gorgeous beyond belief, in other words.”

  Annie laughed.

  “I’m serious,” Shelby said, looking dead serious. “Why would he do it? Why would he want somebody so different than what he’s always had?”

  “I can’t tell you why,” Annie said. “But you do know those are the toughest relationships to break up, right? When a man likes a certain type of woman, like a bombshell such as yourself, but marries a completely different type of woman, like this mousy wife of his, then . . .”

  Shelby looked at Annie. “Then what?”

  “Then that usually means he’s not in it for booty only. She’s got something else.”

  “Well I’ve got booty,” Shelby said defiantly, continuing to apply makeup. “And it’s been my experience that a man will always come back if that booty is good.”

  Then Shelby exhaled and Annie could see a sad look appear in her eyes. “I need him back,” Shelby said. Then added, totally uncharacteristically for her: “I need him.”

  Annie’s smile began to wane too, and she looked away from her friend. Remembering why they were there, and remembering the stakes involved, made her realize just what she was getting herself into. But backing out was too late now. They were here. He was here. Regardless of her misgivings, they had to go through with it.

  CHAPTER FOUR