Despite it being long after visiting hours had ended, FBI Agent Michelle Geary was in his hospital room and had been watching him as he slept.
“Hello Mario, you didn’t think I’d forgotten about you, did you?”
Mario just stared back at her and tried not to let his hate for her show.
Geary smiled, and her chin-length blonde hair hung loosely and framed her attractive face.
If Mario had met her in a bar as a stranger, he might have tried to pick her up, but as things stood, he despised the woman for using his daughter to get to him. Geary only wanted him so she could hurt his friends.
Mario wasn’t deluded; he knew what he was and what his friends were. They were men like Joe Pullo, who would kill just about anyone because he was ordered to, but despite their ruthlessness, they had rules and the rules said that family was off limits.
“How did you get in here after visiting hours?”
Geary leaned back in her seat. “I have a badge and it opens a lot of doors.”
“It makes you feel big too, doesn’t it?”
“When you leave the hospital, I want you to call me, and Mario, the time for talk is over. You either give me something that I can use against your bosses or I’m arresting your daughter. Do you understand me?”
Mario nodded with his teeth clenched.
“Say that you understand. I want to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“You’d better, or so help me I’ll feed that tender young daughter of yours to those bull dykes inside the women’s prison on Rikers Island. They would love to have a tasty little morsel like her.”
For just a moment, Mario felt the urge to attack Geary and strangle her to death, but the moment passed, and he swallowed his rage.
“I’ll give you something you can use, I promise.”
Geary patted him on the cheek. “That’s a good boy. Give me something I can use and your daughter’s problem disappears.”
Geary rose from the chair and left without another word.
Mario had spent most of his career transporting drugs, and later became Sam Giacconi’s chauffeur. He was a nobody in the Giacconi Family, but he did know where the bodies were hidden, and there were two recent corpses that the Feds would love to find.
Mario stared at the ceiling, knowing he’d never get back to sleep, and tried to think of a way to get out from under the mess he was in.
Tanner studied the small, but well-maintained home in the town of Union, New Jersey, even as his hand removed the lock picks from his pocket.
“We’ll take our time checking it out and then we’ll go in the back door. If there’s an alarm system, it’s yours to deal with.”
Sophia nodded in agreement and they crept toward the house.
When they were satisfied that there were no guards or dogs, they entered through the rear door as planned. After long minutes of great care expended in silent movement, they stood at the side of Adamo’s bed, where he lay entwined with his lover.
Tanner picked up the gun that Adamo had left on the nightstand, gave Sophia a signal, and watched as she shined the beam of a small flashlight at Adamo’s eyes.
The bald man awoke with a start as he reached for a weapon that was no longer there. His movements awakened the young man who had been lying in his arms.
“Saul, baby, what’s going on?” the young man muttered in a sleepy voice. He was probably no more than twenty.
Sophia hit him on the side of his blond head with her gun and he lay silent once more.
Adamo gave up on finding the gun and turned on a lamp. When he saw Sophia and Tanner, panic lit his face.
“How did you find me here? Who else knows about this?”
“We were tipped off,” Sophia said.
“Oh God, someone knows and now you do too, oh Jesus, oh no.”
Sophia looked over at Tanner with an astonished look on her face that didn’t need words.
Tanner nodded. Yes, Adamo was actually more distraught about their discovery that he was gay than he was that they were there to kill him.
“Adamo, Sophia and I wouldn’t care if you were fucking a mongoose. I don’t give a damn who anyone fucks, I only care about who they fuck with, and you’ve fucked with the wrong people.”
Tanner had traded the leather vest for a black T-shirt with long sleeves, but he had left the bolo tie in place around his neck.
In one smooth motion, he removed the tie and slipped it over Adamo’s head.
As he had done with Gruber, he used the tie as a garrote, but to avoid the blood bath that Gruber’s demise had spawned with a quick death, Tanner instead kept a steady killing pressure around Adamo’s throat.
Adamo thrashed like a sport fish caught on a line. Tanner held on, dragged him from the bed, and finished Adamo as the fat man lay on the floor. Adamo’s face was a bright red that extended to his bald pate, making it appear as if he had been sunburned.
The murder took nearly three minutes. Toward the end of it, Tanner had locked eyes with Sophia, expecting to see revulsion. Instead, he saw a look of satisfaction, as she watched the man who had set up her father’s murder meet his end.
When he was done, Tanner freed the bolo and stuffed it in a pocket.
Sophia gestured at the naked young man she had knocked unconscious. “What should we do with him?”
“Leave him as he is, but we’ll take Adamo’s body away.”
“That sounds risky.”
“It is, but not as dangerous as leaving him and pinpointing the time of death. If he just goes missing, who’s to say when he was murdered, or where?”
“That’s the same logic they used when killing my father, and yes, it left us confused and uncertain.”
“Yeah, and I doubt the kid on the bed has a clue who Adamo really was.”
Adamo had bled very little, so Tanner wrapped him in a blanket and hefted him on his shoulder. Like Tanner, Sophia was wearing gloves. She walked around the bed to turn off the light.
Minutes later, they were in the home’s driveway with Adamo’s corpse stored in the truck he had arrived in. Tanner would drive it away with Sophia following in his car. As he was about to climb in the truck, Sophia gripped his arm.
“Romeo?”
“Yeah?”
She kissed him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but we need to move.”
Another quick kiss and Sophia ran to his car.
Tanner climbed in the truck and headed toward the highway as Sophia drove along behind him.
In his brief existence, Romeo had killed several men; he was a lethal chap, on that score, there was no doubt.
Tanner sighed. Oh well, a rose by any other name...
Tanner drove on, headed back to New York City, and wondered how many more would die in the coming days.
128
Absolutely
Johnny watched Sara enter the club and could tell right away that she was drunk.
He went toward her, and as he did so, he saw that one of the customers had also spotted her. The man was moving in for the kill.
“Damn baby, you must be a dancer, because you’re hot as shit.”
He was a young guy in a good suit, likely a stockbroker, and he was nearly as drunk as Sara. When he leaned in to kiss her, Sara shoved him backwards.
The man moved toward her again and Johnny stepped between them.
“It’s time to go home.”
“Screw you. I’ll leave when I want.”
“You want to leave now,” said a voice from behind the man, and when the man turned around, he saw Bull standing behind him.
The man craned his neck to gaze up at the giant.
“I’ll leave, yeah, no problem.”
Sara waved at the man, as Bull escorted him to the door. “Bye-bye.” When she was done waving, she turned and smiled at Johnny. “Hello.”
Johnny took her by the arm. “Let’s go to my office.”
“Okay, but I want a drink.”
&
nbsp; “What would you like?”
“A martini would be nice. Do you make apple martinis here?”
Johnny caught Carl’s attention. “Two apple martinis, and have them sent to my office.”
“Right, boss.”
Sara was watching the stage, where blonde twins were keeping a crowd of men six deep enraptured by their… athletic ability, as they shimmied their half-naked bodies up, down, and around a pair of shiny metal poles in synchronized splendor.
“That looks difficult to do, and they’re so young and beautiful.”
“You’re young and beautiful too.”
“Maybe beautiful, but not young, not inside.”
Carl had made the martinis as they talked. Johnny took the tray from him and led the way to his office.
Sara entered, looked around, and settled on the leather sofa against the wall. Johnny sat beside her and placed the tray on the coffee table.
“Two martinis? Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“You’re already there, honey, and one of those is for me.”
Sara took the drink, sipped it, and smiled. “That’s excellent.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
Sara sat the drink down and stared at Johnny. “There’s something else I’d like.”
She kissed him, and he kissed her back. When their lips parted, she sighed.
“You’re a good kisser.”
She grabbed her drink again, spilling part of it, and then gulped the remainder down.
Johnny watched her and saw a shadow of sadness envelop her.
“What’s wrong, Sara?”
“My sister thinks I’m crazy,” Sara said, while pronouncing “crazy” as “crazshey.”
“Why would she think that?”
“She and my ex-partner think I’m obsessed with seeking revenge on the men who killed my lover.”
“I thought Tanner had killed him?”
“He did, but he did it on orders and now I want the man behind him.”
“Frank Richards.”
Sara nodded, grabbed the second martini and downed the green-hued fluid in a series of gulps. When she was done, she burped loudly, followed it with a giggle, then leaned over and kissed Johnny again.
“I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to think. Just take me home with you.”
Johnny looked her over as he smiled. “Absolutely.”
129
Mission Accomplished
Merle awoke with a pounding headache and wondered where he was.
When he saw his brother sleeping nearby in a recliner, he remembered that they were with their new friend, Matthew Burns.
A moment later, Merle caught the scent of bacon and figured that Burns had gotten up and started cooking breakfast. Good, because he was hungry and would kill for a cup of coffee.
Kill? Shit, if I could kill I wouldn’t be in trouble. Johnny R is not gonna like it when we tell him we didn’t kill Burns. Damn it, why’d Matt have to be such a nice guy?
Merle lay there a little longer, letting his eyes adjust to the daylight leaking through the blinds, as the pounding in his head became a more manageable ache.
Earl stirred and when Merle looked over at his younger brother, he saw his eyes pop open, only to squinch shut, and he knew he wasn’t the only one with a hangover.
“Mornin’,” Merle said.
“My head hurts.”
“Me too.”
Earl opened his eyes and sniffed the air. “Somethin’s burnin’.”
“It’s just bacon, Matt’s cookin’.”
“Nah, somethin’s burnin’, you don’t smell that?”
Merle gave the air a good sniff, and yes, something was burning.
He leapt from the sofa, moaned from the ache in his head, and with Earl following, headed toward the kitchen.
“Matt!”
Burns was sitting on the floor, slumped back against the bottom cabinets. His eyes were closed, but his mouth hung open, and in one hand, he gripped a rubber spatula, while the other laid atop his chest.
What had been scrambled eggs were burning in a pan, while a dozen strips of bacon blackened atop an electric griddle.
Merle got down on the floor beside Burns as Earl turned off the food.
“Oh, sweet Jesus, Matt. Matt, are you okay?”
After getting no response from Burns, Merle looked up at his brother.
“Call 9-1-1 and tell them to hurry!”
On a back road near the village of Tarrytown, New York, Trent and Gary sat in a van and waited to see if Madison would appear.
They were off-road, as they had driven a hundred yards down an old dirt track barely wide enough for the van, and then into a clearing where they turned around, so they had a view of the road.
Gary didn’t talk unless he was first spoken to when he was with Richards, but Trent wasn’t Richards. Curiosity caused him to ask Al Trent a few questions.
“Why are we here?”
“Because this is where Mr. Richards’ daughter will appear at some point today.”
“Out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“Do you see that tree there on the right side of the road, the old one?”
“Yeah, it’s all twisty.”
“Yes, it’s gnarled, and it’s also the tree that Madison’s mother crashed her car into on the night she died. Madison once told me that she leaves flowers here for her mother.”
“Here? Why not at her grave?”
“There is no grave. Mr. Richards had his wife’s body cremated and her ashes scattered.”
Gary nodded. “Okay, then yeah, she might show here, but what if she doesn’t come by for weeks, or months?”
“She’ll be here today, because today is her mother’s birthday.”
“That does improve the odds, but what if she doesn’t show?”
“She’ll show,” Trent said, while wishing he felt as certain as he sounded.
Merle cried, as did Earl, as they watched the ambulance ride off with the body of Matthew Burns.
An officer arrived after the ambulance came, and the young female cop was giving the boys looks of sympathy.
“If it’s any consolation, the paramedics say he went quickly. He likely just felt a sharp pain in his chest and then slid to the floor where you found him.”
Merle wiped at his eyes. “He was such a fun guy and he knew everythin’ about college football.”
“Had you been friends with him for a long time?”
“No ma’am, Earl and I just met him, but we really hit it off, ya know?”
“I’ve finished my report. Is there anything you need from the home?”
“No, and I guess we’ll head back to the city now.”
“Take care, gentlemen. And again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
The boys climbed into their car and drove away. Their mission accomplished, their hearts broken.
130
You’re Never Too Old For A Quickie
Sara woke with a dry mouth and an urgent feeling in her bladder.
Her mind was foggy, but free of pain, and an entire minute passed before she realized she wasn’t in her own bedroom.
She sat up, gazed about and felt the ache in her bladder increase. On the left side of the room was an open doorway that revealed a bathroom. She rose from the bed and headed for it.
I was with Johnny last night.
It wasn’t until she was pulling her underwear down to pee that she realized she was still dressed, and that only her shoes were missing.
She found the shoes by the side of the bed, put them on, and looked around at the room.
There wasn’t much to see other than the bedroom furniture. The walls and ceiling were a muted shade of white, while the curtains and carpet were both dark blue. There was the sound of traffic outside, but it was sporadic. Sara guessed that the apartment wasn’t on a main drag.
She remembered leaving the club, kissing during the short cab ride, and after that… nothing. The room had no pictures
, but there was a bookcase in a corner. Sara saw with surprise that there were several books on aviation, along with books on leadership, business administration, and several classic novels.
She returned to the bathroom to wash her face and then left the room.
Johnny Rossetti was seated in a kitchen area that was separated from the large living room by a short wall, and from what she could see past the glass patio doors, Sara realized they were on an upper floor.
Johnny smiled. “Good morning, how do you feel?”
“Befuddled, did I pass out last night?”
“Yeah, right in the middle of a kiss; I guess that makes me the anti-Prince Charming.”
“You carried me to your bed?”
“Yeah, and I slept on the couch.”
“Some men might have taken advantage of the situation.”
“I ain’t one of them, honey, and don’t forget, I know what you did to Vince.”
“That pig tried to rape me. If anything had happened last night, I would have thought of you as a scumbag, but I would have been equally to blame by my stupidity.”
“You were hurting, and you wanted to forget and be comforted, I got that, and I’m glad that you came to me.”
“Is there any coffee?”
Johnny rose and poured Sara a cup as she took a seat at the table.
“This is good coffee, thank you, and thank you for last night.”
“Not a problem, Sara, we all hit bottom sometime.”
Sara glanced around. “There’s no girlfriend, is there?”
“No.”
“What am I saying, anytime you want company, you can just grab one of the girls at the club on your way out the door.”
Johnny laughed. “It’s not like that, not at my club. The girls dance, yes, but they’re not hookers, and a few of them are married.”
“So what, you’re saying you order up one of your hookers instead?”
“I won’t lie. I could do that, and have in the past, but I was a young punk then. Actually, the last woman I dated was a doctor, a pediatrician.”
The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart Page 39