by MB Austin
Maji felt her dinner rise up into her throat. Then her head was free, and Ricky was puking near her feet, holding his crotch.
Frank was wrapping both arms around Rose, pulling her backward. “Ri!” she called, struggling forward against Frank’s protective hold.
Maji shook her head, to warn her off. And then she threw a full meal onto Ricky’s feet. The air smelled terrible, but at least less like smoke now.
“My shoes!” Ricky said, trying to straighten up. The way he winced, Maji guessed that Rose had landed a front rising kick solidly between his legs to set off the puking chain reaction.
Frank let Rose go and threw a cooking towel at him. “Screw the shoes. Go around the side and dump ’em. Mrs. B will kill you, you track puke in her house.”
“They’re four hundred dollars kicks, you moron!” Ricky gagged, and spat to the side. “She owes me four hundred.”
Frank stepped up into his face, not even showing how disgusting Maji knew that must be. “You just threatened to rape and kill her, you asshole. Call it even.”
“Fuck you.”
Frank didn’t flinch when Ricky’s spittle hit him. “You want me to report this to Gino, give him the blow by blow?”
“Fuck you,” Ricky repeated, but weakly this time. He stepped on the back of one shoe, and kicked it off. He stepped on the other with his sock-covered foot and wobbled. Frank steadied him. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
“C’mon,” Frank said. “I’ll take you inside.” He turned to Rose and Maji. “You two okay?”
Maji looked to Rose, who nodded. “All good, Frank. Thanks.”
Rose examined Maji from a few feet away. There was vomit on her skirt hem and shins. And feet, no doubt. She held out her hand, and Maji took it. “This way,” Rose said.
They stepped into the rec room-turned-casino, away from the grill’s odors and the noise of music and voices. A pair of dealers stopped talking to each other and headed for separate tables. “No, no,” Rose said. “Continúan. Estamos cansadas.”
The male dealer smiled at them and reached back for a chair by the wall. “Here. Rest.” He eyed Maji. “Perhaps some water, también?”
“Mil gracias,” Maji said, sinking onto the chair.
The female dealer returned promptly with a paper cup and a damp towel. Rose wiped Maji’s legs down while Maji drained the cup.
“You gave him the handshake, didn’t you?” Maji asked.
Rose looked up at her and saw amusement. Rose felt herself color. “I did. Maybe a poor tactical choice, but…”
“No. You did fine. Thank you.”
“You could have handled it, probably better. I just—those words, and he had you like that—I just…”
Maji took her hand. “I know. It’s okay.” She pulled her skirt edge up and wrinkled her nose. “I better go change, though.”
“I’ll go with you.” She read hesitation on Maji’s face. “Don’t you argue with me, Rios.”
“Hooah.”
They jogged barefoot through the damp grass down to the blissfully quiet empty house. Rose waited while Maji stepped into the shower, her dress an empty shell on the floor outside the bathroom. The smell of smoke on her own dress made her want to change, too. She could join Maji in there…No, that wasn’t fair. Maji was still on duty, and a little shaken up, besides. Sometime in the last few weeks, Rose had stopped thinking of her as invincible. The water stopped, and Rose tapped on the door.
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to go change.”
“Okay.”
When Rose stepped out of her own bathroom, wrapped in a towel, she expected to find Maji standing in the doorway waiting, in a fresh Ri getup with redone makeup. Instead, there she was on Rose’s bed, curled up in tight jeans and a leopard-spotted top, snoring. Rose quietly pulled on her nightshirt, turned off the light, and lay down beside her.
Three hours later, the blare of the fire alarm bolted them both upright.
Chapter Thirty-seven
“It’s only one fifteen, Ma,” Angelo protested. “Dance with me.”
“And I’m old. I want to be up to see you off tomorrow.” Jackie looked at Yuri and Sander Khodorov. “When are you putting that bird down on our lawn?”
“Eight a.m. We must leave by nine.”
She nodded. “If you gotta. I’ll set an alarm.” She leaned in toward Yuri. “Thanks for staying over. Don’t let anybody trash this place.”
“Not on my watch, as they say.” When Jackie had gone into the house, Yuri tilted his head in that direction. “Nice woman. She will visit us, yes?”
Angelo smiled. She’ll get nowhere near you. “She’s looking forward to it. Wants to bring Rose over, on her winter school break.”
As the plan stood, he and Yuri and Sander would take a helicopter across the Sound to a private airstrip in Connecticut. From there, off to Vienna in the Khodorov jet. It was a nice plan.
Ricky started to pass their table, looking considerably more sober, but very rumpled. Angelo reached out and touched his arm. “You seen Ri lately? Or Rose?”
Ricky shook his head. “Maybe they’re off, um, together. I could go look…”
“You wish.” Angelo looked around, scanning the thinned-out crowd. “Well, where’s Frank?”
Ricky put his hands out. “How should I know?”
Angelo rose and pushed his chair back. “’Scuse me.” If Rose and Ri weren’t up here, on the dance floor, or down in the rec room, chances were they were in one of Nonna’s rooms, like his mother. With Frank snoring nearby. But he’d feel better knowing for sure.
“I’ll come with you,” Sander said, rising. He stopped midrise as Dev came bounding up the stairs, his rifle over his back. Conversations all over the veranda died, and a few hands went into jackets.
“He’s mine,” Angelo yelled toward the guests. Then he gave all his attention to Dev.
“Your house is on fire.” Dev sucked in a lungful of air. “We called it in. Who’s accounted for?”
“Just me,” Angelo said. He turned to Yuri. “Send some guys to cover the waterfront. I want mine up here.”
Dev met him by the base of the outdoor stairs two minutes later. He’d scared the hell out of Lupo, Nonna, and Jackie—but no Rose or Ri. Frank was with Jackie and now tasked to keep her at the Big House. Tom came pounding up the hill as Dev and Angelo took off toward the fire, Sander trailing behind them.
Lights and sirens richocheted off the trees as they approached the pool behind the house. Nobody back there. They jogged around the side of the house, close enough to feel the heat but not get hit by sparks and debris. Angelo waved Sander to keep more distance, and Tom to sweep the far side of the building.
Around front, a crew of firefighters was laying out hose, preparing to contain what damage it could. The garage, Angelo noticed, wasn’t burning yet. Thank God he’d moved the tokens to Frank’s apartment. The drive was empty of vehicles.
Angelo spun around, caught sight of a Hummer, and sprinted toward it. Nobody inside, and its back wheels were mired in the new flower bed. Beyond it, Ricky’s Corvette rested on its side, on the grass. See, Ri? Hummers can be useful, after all.
“They’re with the medics,” came Tom’s voice from behind him.
Angelo grabbed Tom and squeezed him hard, then let him go. “They okay?”
Tom nodded. “A few cuts, small burns, nothing critical. C’mon.”
“Go see them,” Angelo told Dev and Tom. He pulled out his cell phone as they jogged off and took Sander’s hand in his free one. “Frank? Yeah. Everybody’s okay. Listen, can you get Mom out without Gino noticing? Good. Take any car out there, drive her down to where the Humvees are.”
“Safe house?” Sander asked. Such a bright kid.
Angelo nodded. “I’m not trusting anybody now. Except your dad, of course.”
Sander watched the fire crew work, scanning the house. “Sirko. What he can’t take, he destroys.”
Angelo caught his mother as she spilled out of
the back of the limo. “Time to go, Ma.” He turned to Sander. “You give us a minute?”
Sander nodded and backed away. Sweet guy, really.
Frank waited in the limo until Angelo had said his good-byes, and been released from his mother’s embrace. “What if Gino calls?” He held his cell phone out.
Angelo took it from him, dropped it, and stomped. “He asks later, it got broke in the circus down here. Follow me.”
They met up with Tom, Dev, Maji, and Rose at the ambulance and formed a quick evacuation plan. Angelo was careful not to say in front of Sander which safe house to head for. The team knew, and Frank could just ride along. A few minutes later, a train of vehicles left the property—two Humvees, one limo, an ambulance, and the fire marshal’s Jeep.
Angelo and Sander, the only ones left, spoke with the fire crew’s lead and walked back up to the Big House. Even coming under control, the flames were warm on their backs.
In under twenty minutes, the Big House was clear of guests. Next the band left, and then the caterers. “Leave it all,” Angelo assured the head guy, Raul. “Come back tomorrow for cleanup.”
In the living room, he found Gino, Lupo, Yuri, Sander, Sergei, and Ricky waiting. He walked at Ricky, gaining speed as he went, and shoved him back into the wall. “You nearly killed them!”
Ricky spluttered.
“You wanted me, you should have come after me. Like a fucking man, you little shit.”
“Stop.” Yuri’s voice was cool, clipped. The gun in Angelo’s ribs felt chilly and hard.
Angelo released his hold, and Ricky got his footing back, wheezing. The pressure of the gun disappeared, so Angelo stepped back, holding his hands where Yuri could see them. But he kept his furious eyes on Ricky. “You never stopped giving Sirko intel, did you?”
“I did! I swear. Only what we agreed, nothing more.” Ricky was pale, with a sheen of sweat on his upper lip.
Angelo winced. “Wish that was true. Frank was here, we’d know for sure.”
“Where the hell is Frank?” Gino said.
“I had him get Ma and Rose out of here. Ri, too.”
Sander waved the domestic discussion away. “Go back to Sirko. You gave him intel?”
Ricky looked too scared to speak, so Angelo did the honors. “After that guy in the club, there were a couple more run-ins. And since we couldn’t risk giving Sirko anything real, we used Ricky to feed him misinformation. Or so I thought.”
Yuri reached a hand back toward Sergei and took the silencer his body man had ready for him. He started twisting it onto the gun barrel, his eyes on Ricky.
“Musta been Frank!” Ricky blurted. “’Cause of the drugs, or—”
Gino stepped forward and smacked him hard. “Basta.”
“What drugs?” Yuri asked.
Angelo jumped in. “Frank used heroin, way back when. But when he got sick a little while back, we were worried. Turned out to be a false alarm, thank God.”
Gino glared at him but didn’t contradict him.
“Nice try, Rickster,” Angelo continued. “But see, I used Frank to feed you some info myself. Then I sent Ri and the guys out to test whether it got used. First time, I wasn’t sure. Second time, no mistake.”
“No,” Ricky protested. “The caterer! That guy was in your house, and all over this one.”
“That’s lame, even for you.” Angelo looked to Yuri for a verdict.
Yuri stepped toward Ricky.
“Wait,” Ricky pleaded, his eyes darting about. “I didn’t sweep the house but the one time, before they came.”
“How convenient.” Also true, Angelo knew. He’d counted on it.
“No,” Gino said. “He really is that lazy. You go sweep right now, Ang.”
Yuri nodded. “We’ll wait.” He took a seat in an armchair, and the rest followed suit while Angelo went to search.
When he came back, nine of the fifteen bugs he’d found were in his hand. Sorry, Rey. Angelo poured them onto the coffee table. Ricky slumped down in his chair with a sigh. Gino looked relieved as well.
“We’d better revise our exit plan,” Sander said, looking at his father.
Yuri nodded and thumbed his phone awake. “Bring the copter in now. We’ll have the landing area lit.” He looked at Angelo. “You need a separate way out of here. I’m not taking you up in the air with us now.”
Angelo nodded. “Understood. I should get down to the house, see if I can salvage a couple things.”
The front door opened, and they all paused to turn and look. Frank and Maji walked into the living room. “Hey,” Frank said.
Angelo grinned. “Hey!” He gave Maji a hug and looked her over. “Everybody on the road?”
She nodded. “In the city soon. I’ll tell you when they call to say they’re tucked in.”
Frank looked at the assembled group, and the pile of bugs on the table, and waited silently.
“I’m going to need a couple things from the house. See if they’ll let you in. Be persuasive, but not stupid.”
Maji nodded, looking exhausted but on task. Frank followed her out.
“So here’s what I’m thinking,” Angelo resumed. “I take half the code, Sander takes half and a case of tokens. I get the rest of the tokens from the house and meet you at the airstrip. You can secure the airstrip, right?”
Sergei nodded, and Sander said, “Yes, but how will you—”
“He’ll take my boat,” Lupo offered.
Angelo looked at him. “Thanks. But isn’t it kind of slow?”
“Not since I put a new engine in. It’ll do twenty knots, and the tank is full. Just have Frank bring it back, please.”
“Okay, then. What time’s the flight plan have us leaving Connecticut?”
“Ten a.m.,” Yuri said. “Can you make it?”
Angelo grinned. “Vienna awaits. I’ll be there by nine thirty.”
“I don’t like,” Sander said. “You’ll be exposed for hours, out on the water. At least take Sergei.”
Yuri shook his head, and Angelo agreed. “I’ll have Frank and Ri. They’ll go down before they let anything happen to me. But there is one loose end I didn’t want them here to see.”
Yuri met Angelo’s eye and handed him the pistol. Everyone else in the room sat up, tense.
Angelo handed the gun to Gino. “The caterer wasn’t here before that day Sirko’s guys chased Ri and Rose at the market.” He nodded toward Ricky, whose color drained from his face again. “He was more worried for his own family than yours.”
Ricky stood and stepped sideways, toward the hall, as Gino approached him. Sergei stepped behind him, a human wall to block his retreat. Ricky looked at Gino, pleading in his eyes. “Think of Sienna. They would have hurt her. Don’t make her a widow, G.”
Gino’s voice was as flat as his eyes. “She can do better.” He looked to Sergei. “Garage. There’s sheet plastic you can use.”
Sergei nodded and shoved Ricky toward the door. When Ricky yelled, “No!” and tried to fight his way back, Sergei spun him around, pinning his arm behind him. He clamped his free hand over Ricky’s mouth, but Ricky struggled harder the closer they got to the door. Angelo ran and opened it for them, looking back in time to see Sergei get frustrated at last and give Ricky’s head a brutal twist.
“Shit,” Gino hissed. “Get him outside before his guts let go.”
Angelo grabbed Ricky’s feet, while Sergei and Lupo took Ricky’s upper body. As they cleared the front landing, he heard Sienna call down. “Rick?”
Gino called back up. “He’s outside, hon.”
Angelo waved Lupo and Sergei to continue removing the body and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “He had to puke some more, Si.”
“Jesus,” she said. “Well, when he comes in, make him sleep on the couch. I had enough excitement for one night already.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
Rose sat on the edge of the sofa bed in the office upstairs at Hannah’s. She smoothed Jackie’s hair back.
>
“Who is she?” Jackie asked again, her words slurring a little this time.
So Rose told her again. “Hannah is a friend of Ang’s and Ri’s. If it’s safe in the morning, we’ll go over and see him off. Try to get some rest.”
“Can’t help it,” Jackie replied, her eyes closing.
Rose stood and left quietly, taking a last look around before shutting off the light. The cream-colored walls and tasteful art felt right for Hannah, but something about the layout, the desk with a couch and an armchair nearby, said therapist. She tiptoed over to the desk and stood behind the rolling chair to examine the framed photos on the desktop. One of Maji and Bubbles, looking a few years younger. One of Hannah, fairly recent. And one of a lovely blonde with sparkling eyes, holding a much younger Hannah. Or was it? The hair was dark and fell below her collar in a simple braid. Definitely Hannah, and the glowing woman with her must be Ava.
Rose passed Maji’s room and saw both bunks were empty. The bathroom was empty, as was a small study, which must be Hannah’s. The last door was closed, so she knocked lightly. No answer. Rose continued down the stairs and saw light coming from under the kitchen door. She pushed through and found only Hannah, sitting alone with a cup of tea.
“Where’s Maji?”
“Working,” Hannah answered. “You can use either bunk tonight. Would you like a sedative?”
Rose thought of Jackie, blissfully unconscious. And of Maji, who must be exhausted. “What do you mean, working? She’s in no condition to be on her feet. Even before the fire, she was…she got ill.”
“Ill, how?” Hannah poured a mug of tea from the pot on the table and pushed it toward her.
Lemony, Rose noted. She put her hands around the mug, comforted by the warmth. “There was an incident with Ricky, by the grills the caterer was using. Ricky threw up, and then Maji did, too.”
“And then?”
“And then we went back to Jackie’s house to clean up, and she fell asleep.”