“Yeah,” he admitted. “Around there.”
Reno let out a sharp exhale. “You had better pray Franny lives. Because if she doesn’t, if my baby sister doesn’t pull through and fully recover, you will answer to me.”
Dirty was now horrified, and defensive. “But what did I do? You told me to stay in Vegas with the girls, and I stayed.”
“I didn’t tell you to get drunk and gamble, you stupid fuck!” Reno was yelling now. “I didn’t tell you to put my wife in a position where she had to shoot and kill three people! How is Trina gonna live with a thing like that? Hell, I can hardly live with what I’ve done and I’m a snake in the grass compared to my wife! And you wanna know what did you do? You wanna ask me something that fucked up?”
“Excuse me, sir,” a man in a white coat came in and said. “But you’ll have to tone it down. This is a hospital.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Reno asked and MarBeth rolled her eyes.
The doctor swallowed hard. He and his staff weren’t fools. All of the private security, all of the activity, all of the Italians, they had automatically assumed this was some sort of mob hit. And he knew he had to tread carefully. “I’m a doctor in the ICU,” he said.
“You’re my sister’s doctor?”
“The patient here? Yes, I’m. . . yes.”
“What’s the deal?”
The doctor explained the deal in great detail. He admitted that it wasn’t optimistic about her prognosis, saying that it was touch and go at this point, and MarBeth started crying uncontrollably when the doctor gave the prognosis. Carmine was holding her, consoling her, but she refused to be comforted. Dirty couldn’t be comforted either. It was just a mess. There were no two-ways about this. This was just a mess.
Reno left. Went into the quiet room of the hospital’s chapel, sat in the back, and closed his tired eyes. Somehow this felt weird to Reno, as if this hit was all about him. But that would be nonsensical since he had nothing to do with what MarBeth did to Eddie Giancarlo, and any mobster worth their salt would have known that.
But what about some newbie? Some mobster who wasn’t worth shit, some friend of Joey Laster’s? But that made no sense to Reno, either. No friend of some nobody hood could have penetrated his security at the PaLargio without being some big-time hood among the bigs. Like Vito Giancarlo, for instance. Which meant, Reno knew, if he retaliated, he would be dragged down into yet another mob war. But for them to go after the women, after his mother and sister and wife, was telling. It was as if they wanted to make certain he was dragged back in. They wanted to make certain he sought his retribution.
But that was their game. They wanted Reno to play their game.
He prayed for his mother’s eternity, prayed for his sister’s recovery, and left the chapel in search of Tommy. To talk this thing through. Because Tommy was the only man in whom he trusted enough to bear his soul.
By the time he got back to Trina’s room, and saw that she was asleep, he and Tommy sat down in chairs beside each other. For the longest time not a word was spoken, just the soft hum of Trina’s snoring, as they both sat in amazement at how peacefully she slept. And they took their own counsel.
After a long, serene time had passed, Reno looked at his cousin. “Where’s Sal Luca?” he asked.
“In Seattle. Getting on my last nerve. He’s my baby brother, and I love him to death, but he drives me crazy, Reno.”
Reno wanted to smile at that, but didn’t have the energy. He then leaned forward, rubbed his hands together, exhaled.
“Settle down, Ree,” Tommy said. “She’s going to be all right.”
“Physically, yeah. She’ll be fine. But I don’t know, Tommy. She had to kill three people. I had to ice one in my entire lifetime, one man, and I’m still reeling from that. How in the world is she going to come back from killing three?”
“Easier than you,” Tommy said.
Reno looked back at him. Tommy was seated there, his legs crossed, looking his usual elegant self. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Tommy hesitated, his bright green eyes sparkling with revelations. But he chose his words carefully. “She knows how to see it for what it is,” he said.
“And I don’t?”
“No, you don’t. But with Trina, I think she understands she had no choice. She had to kill those men. You had to do what you had to do too, but you can’t see it that way. You blame yourself. No matter how ludicrous, you always blame yourself. Trina hates that she was put in that horrible position, but she’s a strong lady, Reno. She doesn’t dwell on what she cannot change, she accepts it. Yes, she was put in a horrible position, but what can she do? She didn’t put herself there. She didn’t tell those gunmen to come to the penthouse and try to kill her. She understands that. You never have.”
Reno stared at his cousin. “I pray you’re right, Tommy.”
“I’m right. I’m not saying this won’t change her forever, it will. But she’ll still be Tree. And if God can forgive her, she’ll probably figure she might as well forgive herself. But you, Reno, never get to that second part. You figure you don’t deserve forgiving.”
“I don’t,” Reno said. Then he shook his head, the emotions too raw. He changed the subject. “What’s with security?” he asked. “I assume you were the one who took care of it?”
“I did.”
“But where are my people? I don’t recognize any of these guys.”
“They all belong to me,” Tommy said. Tommy, a former cop, owned two successful restaurants in the Seattle area, but his main source of revenue was his security firm, one of the best in the country. “I checked the videotape before I came to the hospital,” he went on. “Those gunmen came in, with their own passkey, through the basement, Reno.”
Reno was astounded. “Are you serious?”
“They came in, all concealed in ski masks, I mean it was out of a horror movie. And they were able to triple-passcode through your elaborately intricate security that I personally had installed, so I know it’s elaborate, and made their way to that penthouse.”
“There’s a breach?”
“A major breach. Only a handful of your security people have access to that basement passkey, Reno, and even less know the triple passcodes. So until we find out the source of that breach, my people handle all security.” Tommy looked at Reno. “Agreed?”
“Hell yeah,” Reno said as if that went without saying.
Then he leaned back, ran his hand through his already ruffled mop of brown hair. He looked over at his sleeping wife. “This thing had me worried from the beginning, Tom, to be honest with you. When Carmine told me what MarBeth had done, and now this. I don’t understand it. Why would Vito hit the PaLargio? He knew I had nothing to do with what happened to Eddie, he knew that. Something ain’t right about it, man. I mean, I knew he wanted revenge---”
Tommy looked at Reno. “He said that?”
“Didn’t have to. He gave me some song and dance about how much he loves MarBeth and how he’s our godfather and would never do a thing to harm a hair on our head.”
“You don’t believe him?”
“Hell na’ll. Vito’s not reliable. He’s the one who gave me that bad intel on Frank Partanna, don’t forget that. He’s the one who claimed he didn’t even know Partanna had a son and that lack of information caused a gotdamn mob war.”
“So,” Tommy asked, “what are you going to do?”
Reno looked at Trina again. “Keep her safe,” he said. “No matter what.”
“You think she can be safe at the PaLargio?”
“With your people surrounding the joint, I’m sure she would. But after Ma’s funeral I’ve got to get her away from here, at least until I can figure out what in the hell is going on here.”
Tommy was nodding. “That was my recommendation, too. In fact, I think you and Tree should come to Seattle. Until we can figure this all out, like you said.”
Carmine came into the room, his cell phone in his hand.
&
nbsp; “What’s the matter?” Reno asked. “Franny okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Carmine said, “there’s no change with Franny.” He extended his cell phone. “Phone call for you.”
“For me? Who is it?”
Carmine hesitated. “Vito Giancarlo.”
Reno and Tommy looked at each other. Then Reno took the phone, stood up, and walked toward the back side of the room.
Tommy looked at Carmine as Reno spoke on the phone. “What’s that about?” he asked Carmine. “Why would Vito be calling Reno after what’s happened?”
Carmine shook his head. “He wouldn’t tell me nothing. Said he had to speak to Reno and had to speak to him now. I didn’t like his tone and I told him so. I said you wanna speak to Reno so bad, why didn’t you call Reno on his own gotdamn phone? I mean the nerve of that guy. But he doesn’t have Reno’s number, he says, except his number at the PaLargio. And nobody’s answering at the PaLargio.”
Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s getting crazy out there.”
“Tell me about it.”
Reno killed the call, walked back over to his chair, and handed the cell phone back to Carmine.
“What did he want?” Carmine asked.
Reno sat back down. Shook his head as if he was still amazed himself. “He said he had nothing to do with the PaLargio hit.”
“What?” Tommy asked, astounded.
“He must take us for fools!” Carmine angrily declared. “Who else would have made that kind of hit, on you of all people, on your wife and your dear mother? Who else? And he just happened to make the hit after his own son gets capped and capped by your sister? The nerve of that guy!”
Reno exhaled, ran his hand through his ruffled hair again. “Something’s wrong,” he said again.
“Hell yeah something’s wrong,” Carmine said. “Vito Giancarlo’s wrong! I say we hit back tonight, Reno, and hit hard. Get him and his lieutenants and any other fucker crazy enough to be associated with him!”
But Reno was shaking his head. “No,” he said. “That’s their game. Somebody’s trying to rope me into their game.”
“So you believe Vito didn’t do it?” Tommy asked him.
“I don’t know,” Reno said, heartfelt. “But the last time I went after a mob boss half-cocked, with bad information, caused me my own son. I’m not making that mistake twice.”
“So you and Tree will come with me?”
“For a few days, yeah, after Tree gets out and after I get Ma safely in the ground.” Reno’s voice choked on those last words. All three men, in fact, looked solemn at that pronouncement.
Then Reno exhaled. “I need help,” he admitted.
“You got help,” Carmine said. “You got me.”
“You and MarBeth are staying here with Franny.”
Carmine frowned. “Ah, Reno, come on. Dirty’s her husband. Why can’t he stay with her?”
“Because you and me both know Dirty ain’t worth a shit. I want you to stay here too, guard her night and day, Carmine, until she recovers. I should be back by then.”
Then Reno looked at Tommy. “But I’m going to need help. Serious help. Firepower I can trust.”
At first Tommy didn’t understand. “I told you my men will handle security.”
“That’s not what I mean. I’m talking a personal bodyguard. A tactician, Tommy.”
Tommy frowned trying to comprehend what Reno was saying and what that look on Reno’s mug really meant. He needs help, okay, he needs help, Tommy’s mind was saying. But when it hit, it hit hard. “No, Reno, not her.”
“I need her, Tommy.”
“Need who?” Carmine asked, but they ignored him. This was really a two-man conversation. And Tommy was shaking his head.
“Not Shanks, please don’t tell me you’re roping Shanks into this.”
“I need her, Tommy.”
Tommy hesitated. It had been nearly three months since he’d seen or heard from her. Three long months. Surely Reno understood what he was asking of him.
But Reno was persistent. “I wouldn’t go there if I didn’t have to, Tommy, you know that. But something is telling me that this boogey man is the biggest, baddest boogey man we’ve ever faced. I need her.”
Tommy just sat there quietly, suddenly looking drawn it seemed to Reno. And then he seemed to resign himself to the fact that it had to be so. “I don’t even know where she is right now,” he said.
Reno hesitated. He knew the pain just the mention of her name caused Tommy.
But it couldn’t be helped.
“I know how to reach her,” Reno said.
FOUR
The next night, when Tommy Gabrini drove his sports Mercedes onto his circular driveway and saw her car parked along the slant, he literally stopped in his tracks before he pulled on up and killed his engine. Reno had said that he would get in touch with her, but Tommy never dreamed it would be this soon. Or that she would just show up at his place as if nothing had happened.
He returned from Vegas yesterday, with the hospital still running tests on Trina and Franny still in intensive care. Reno spent almost all of his time at Trina’s bedside. When he wasn’t at her side he was either checking in on Franny, or planning his own mother’s funeral. Sometimes Tommy wondered how Reno held up at all. But he did, day in and day out. Tommy, in fact, had yet to meet a stronger man.
The only reason Tommy left Vegas before the funeral was because he had to meet with a corporate client in Portland whose CEO, the very paranoid former head of Burton-Bronston, was requesting a monumental amount of surveillance work from Gabrini Security. But after those drawn-out meetings were over, however, Tommy wasn’t interested in staying the night. He had driven nearly three straight hours just to make it back home. Now he wanted nothing more than to go to bed and get some sleep. It was nine at night, the Seattle sky was gray and overcast, and he was so exhausted that he didn’t even bother to invite one of his female friends over to warm his bed.
But now he had to deal with her. And as usual when she reappeared in his life, a part of him was so elated he could hardly contain his thrill. But another part of him, lately perhaps the bigger part, was disconcerted.
He got out of his car and pressed his keypad, the lights flashing three times as his car locked then alarmed and then sputtered to sleep. From the flood light that illuminated his big, quiet home, he noticed that her car, a Lexus he had purchased for her last year, had a dent the size of a tennis ball near the back bumper. He rubbed the groove, surprised that she hadn’t mentioned any accident. But then again, he thought, as he headed across the driveway to his front door, how could she? He hadn’t heard from her in months.
When he entered the foyer of his colonial-style home and rounded the corner to the living area, he saw her. She was standing at the back of the massive room in front of the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the Pacific Ocean.
He stopped all movement when he saw her. She was just standing there, staring out at the waves as they careened up and splashed back down in a wild float across the ocean, her tall, slim, exquisite body like a silhouette of magnificence even before she turned around. And when she turned around, and Tommy saw that face that still dominated his dreams, his heart hammered against his chest.
He continued walking toward her, his movements not as steady now, but his eyes refusing to leave hers. She was his gold standard, the one woman he compared all other women to, but he couldn’t keep letting her do this to him.
As soon as ShoShawna Shanks turned and saw him standing there, staring at her with those piercing blue eyes of his, her face became flushed. He was her gold standard too, the man she compared all other men to, but the only thing she always seemed able to give to him was heartache and grief.
When Reno phoned and told her to get to Seattle, that he needed her firepower, she didn’t ask questions. She packed up her bags and was ready to go. But then she just sat there. On paper she was a firearms expert. But in truth she was nothing more than a hire
d gun.
She, in fact, had just come off of a rescue mission that went horribly bad, and where she lost two of her people. She had been holed up in a hotel trying to recover from that very mission when she got the call from Reno. At first she was gung-ho, ready to get that adrenalin rush again. But then she was paralyzed with fear, terrified of making another mistake. She almost phoned Reno back, especially since he said Tommy’s place would be their meeting point.
Tommy, she had said as she sat in that lonely hotel room. She wanted to see him so desperately, to feel his strong, protective arms around her, to be a part of his life again. But after their last time together, when he gave her his ultimatum, she was worried that he wouldn’t want to have anything more to do with her.
She put on her best smile as he began moving toward her. And her heart was pounding too. He looked so elegant, she thought, in his double-breasted Italian silk suit and patent leather Ferragamo moccasins. His wondrously thick hair was piled around that thick-jawed, gorgeous face, and his tall, lean body still looked as firm and sexy as it had when he first caught her eye four years ago.
Their eyes locked as he approached her, and for a brief moment she wanted to run. She wasn’t sure if she could deal with any more emotion right now. But she didn’t run. She attempted to smile instead.
“Hi,” she said when he arrived at her side, her smile more unnerving than joyous.
Although her joy was usually contagious, Tommy wasn’t trying to smile this time. Not this time. Not when he was too inwardly angry at his physical reaction to her. Already his eyes couldn’t stop scanning her body. Already his penis was throbbing at the mere thought of what hid between those long, luscious legs of hers. He buttoned his Armani suit coat, and slipped his hands into the pockets of his pleated pants, in an effort to hide his expanding reaction.
“I was beginning to wonder if you would get back from Portland at all tonight,” she said.
“You should have phoned,” he replied dryly. It was that face. That gorgeous, panther-like, dark-brown face that always drew him in. Big, almond, African eyes, full African lips, long hair in rolls of curls on one side of her face, and a straight, silky drop-down on the other side. She had that long neck and those high cheek bones that gave her a look so sophisticated, so aristocratic that he always felt as if he was in the presence of royalty whenever he was near her.
MOB BOSS 3: LOVE AND RETRIBUTION Page 5