Blood Ties - A Magnolia Novel

by Ashley Fontainne

  There was no way he was just going to pull up, park his bike in dude’s driveway, and then ring the doorbell. While following the taxi earlier, Lucas made sure to remember every turn and which street he was on. Thankfully, the dude lived only six blocks from Bikes-n-Mikes, a “family-friendly” biker bar catering to the rich wannabes with kids in tow. A great place for the mom and pop to slug down a brew while their kids played on the Karaoke machine.

  Lucas pulled into the parking lot. The place was packed, and no one would notice yet another hog parked outside. He shut the engine down, pocketed his keys, and headed back the way he came. Though less than a mile away, Lucas walked at a slow pace. By the time he found himself standing at the edge of dude’s driveway, the sun was long gone, his shirt soaked with sweat. With a quick glance around the street, Lucas realized no one was outside, so he slipped around the yard, easily hopping the fence. His heart thundered in his chest. Though he didn’t live on the good side of the law, Lucas had never stalked anyone. Or broken into their house. He was walking a thin line, and he knew it. If he got caught before he obtained the information he needed, Lucas was a dead man.

  The only light on was from the back porch, so he crouched low and watched his footing, careful to keep on the soft grass. As Lucas neared the edge of the side of the house, he could hear the drunk mumbling. Lucas froze, listening to see if the dude was chatting on the phone or just gabbing to himself. It didn’t take long for him to figure out his quarry was talking to no one. Lucas stood, pulled his switchblade from his pocket, steadied his nerves, and sprinted from his spot.

  “Don’t move or say a word. Got it?”

  A set of red, bloodshot eyes looked up at him. Lucas expected to see fear behind them. He was surprised when he didn’t. The man simply stared at him with a haunted, eerie gaze. He did as Lucas ordered. His right hand stopped in midair, the glass full of booze inches from his lips.

  Lucas motioned with the knife toward the house. “Anyone else here?” The man gave a brief shake of his head. “Get up and go inside. You’ll take me on a guided tour first. No offense, but I take no one’s word as the truth. Gotta see with my own eyes. If it’s like you say, we’ll come back out here and have us a chat.”

  The man complied and stood, setting his drink on the small bench beside him. Before the old drunk could blink, Lucas looped his arm around his neck, and stuck the tip of the blade to his temple. “You lead. Pull any tricks, and I’ll slit your throat. We’re gonna make a circle, room by room. Turn the lights on in each one, then off when we leave. Slow and steady.”

  Though the man didn’t speak, Lucas sensed his fear. The man’s body trembled as they entered the house. In under two minutes, they were back at their original starting point in the kitchen. Lucas couldn’t help but compare the situation to so many of the cop drama shows he loved to watch. While they moved through the empty house, he made sure to take in everything around him. Satisfied they were alone, Lucas loosened his grip on the captive’s neck. Securing the house was the first hurdle cleared, and Lucas let out a small rush of air, not realizing he’d been holding it the entire time. Before he let go of the man’s neck, he asked, “Got any beer?”

  The man nodded yes, motioning his head toward the fridge. “Good. I need one.” He let go and stepped over to the door that led outside. “Grab some, and let’s have us that chat now.”

  Lucas backed out onto the deck and leaned against the wooden railing. The man shuffled out the door, handed the can of cold beer to Lucas, and just stood still. Lucas noticed silent tears were running down his face, but he didn’t look sad, scared or worried. For a full minute, Lucas stared at him, trying to pinpoint the expression. When it dawned on him it was relief, Lucas took his first swig of beer. He’d already played the role of bad cop, so it was time to bring out the good one.

  “Sit. Let’s talk. Name’s Lucas. Yours?”

  The man sank into the chair he’d been sitting in before, never taking his eyes off Lucas. When he spoke, his voice was raspy. Quiet. “He sent you here to kill me and didn’t even tell you my name?”

  Taken aback, Lucas almost spit out his mouthful of beer. “Dude, no one sent me. I came here all on my own. I’m not here to kill you. Actually,” he replied, pausing to take another sip of beer, “I am here to help you. And me. After what I saw today, I believe we have a common enemy. I call him the Devil. You know him as Caesar Calvanio.”

  The reaction was immediate. What little color the booze brought to the surface of the man’s cheeks disappeared. The relief behind his weary eyes was gone, replaced by fear. Lucas noticed tremors in Nick’s hands. He would need to dig deeper into his bag of television cop interview tricks to get the suspect to open up.

  “I’ll tell you what I know, and what I miss, you fill in the blanks, okay Nick?”

  “Why did you ask me what my name was if you already knew? And, if you aren’t here to kill me, then why did you come?”

  Unwilling to tell him everything just yet, Lucas lied. “Noticed your nametag on the kitchen table. Nick Shonnert, Manager of Green Pastures. That’s an old folk’s home off Central, ain’t it?”

  Nick’s brows furrowed together. “Yeah, so?”

  “So, here’s my first real question, Nick. How does a guy who manages an old farts home have connections to a mobster like Caesar Calvanio?”

  “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anyone by that name.”

  Lucas took another swig of beer, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. Once lit, he leaned back further on the railing. “Your face tells a different story, Nick. You should see your eyes. They say just the opposite of your words.”

  “What is all this? Why do you care who I do, or don’t, know?”

  For dramatic effect, Lucas took a long, slow drag off his cig, letting the question linger in the air until the smoke he’d exhaled disappeared. “Because Ray-Ray D’Nucci was once my best friend, and I want to know why you killed him.”

  The haughtiness from seconds ago, vanished. Nick Shonnert deflated like a popped balloon. He sank back into his chair, his shaking hands immediately covering his face. “Oh, God, you are here to kill me. Just…get it over with. I can’t live like this any longer. Can’t…deal with what he made me do. Please, make it fast.”

  Lucas saw it then. The remorse, the overwhelming sense of being caught in the sticky web of Caesar Calvanio. He knew what that was like. When inside Nick’s house, Lucas saw the family pictures. The sound of the man pleading for his family to be spared inside the walls of the bathroom earlier, hit him again. Nick Shonnert was another pawn, just like Lucas was. Someone to whip into submission. Lucas was brought into the family fold and never questioned his role, after witnessing just how cruel and vicious the Devil could be. This man, he had a family. People to protect. Lucas would bet his life that the broken man in front of him had been blackmailed to kill Ray-Ray. He didn’t have the killer vibe. For a second, Lucas empathized with him. Understood being trapped, willing to gnaw off anything to get away.

  He snuffed out his smoke and walked across the deck. Lucas sat down in the chair next to Nick, keeping his voice even and slow. “Nick, I didn’t come here to hurt you. Or harass you. As I said earlier, we are in the same sinking ship. Caesar Calvanio has kept me under his thumb for years now. I want a way out. My guess, from your responses, is you do, too. I think, between the two of us, we can figure out a way to jump ship and swim to shore. So, no more games. I’ll tell you how I got roped into being the body parts delivery boy, and you tell me everything you know about Caesar. Deal?”

  A spark of hope ignited behind Nick’s eyes, but only for a brief second. Dejection replaced it as his head shook from side to side. “No, no. I can’t. We can’t. He’ll kill my family.”

  The second Lucas heard the words, his original plans changed. No matter what information he learned from Nick, even if Nick had pictures, videos, fucking hand-written instructions penned by the Devil himself, it wouldn’t matt
er. They couldn’t go to the police. If either of them rolled on Caesar, the price on their heads would be so high, every hit man in America would come after them. Even in jail, or whisked away into the witness protection program, wouldn’t insure their safety.

  For the first time since the nightmare of being Caesar Calvanio’s mule, Lucas didn’t push aside his anger. He embraced it. Used it as the tool needed to dig out of his own grave, and to put the Devil in his. He leaned forward, his face inches from the reeking mess of the broken man in front of him. “Not if we kill him first.”

  Nick’s eyes bulged, his mouth hung open like an out-of-breath trout. “Don’t…even say such things out loud! For all I know, my house is bugged!”

  Lucas rose, pulling out another smoke from his pocket. He wished it was bud instead of tobacco. “Let’s continue this conversation over there,” he said, pointing to the edge of the darkened yard.

  Nick remained glued to his chair. The man was beyond scared. He was petrified. Lucas thought about bringing out the bad cop again, but something in his gut told him it wasn’t the right approach. Instead of forcing the old drunk from his seat, Lucas knelt down and whispered in his ear, “I’m guessing you know where he lives, which is something I don’t. I’m also guessing that the body parts hidden inside the coolers of ice he forces me to transport, originally were old fuckers from Green Pastures. Well, except for my most recent delivery. I believe I took Ray-Ray for his final ride.”

  Nick didn’t answer, and he didn’t have to. Lucas could tell from the stunned look on his face that he’d hit the mark. Lucas waited, giving the idea a chance to soak through the booze. For a minute, he worried Nick was going to pass out. The scent of fear rolled off him in waves, making Lucas hold his breath. Finally, with an almost imperceptible nod of his head, Nick acknowledged Lucas was on target.

  With a grin a mile wide, Lucas held his hand out to Nick. A strange expression crossed Nick’s face as he accepted the help. He grabbed Lucas’s hand and stood, wobbling a bit. Lucas let him lead the way across the soft grass. After about twenty yards, Nick turned to face Lucas. The fear behind his eyes was gone. Hope beamed across his brow.

  “What do you need from me?”

  Lucas smiled. “Tell me everything, from the moment you met him. Leave nothing out. Then, I’ll do the same.”

  Lucas watched Nick stare into the cloudless night. His shoulders stiffened as he took in a huge gulp of the humid night air. “Caesar won’t be our only problem. There are others. Ones just as cold and callous. If we do this…”

  “When, not if. I’m well aware he won’t be our only target. Keep talking.”

  16

  Under the Spell of The Magnolia

  “This place is simply breathtaking.” LiAnn smiled, her head bouncing from one direction to the next, taking in the scenery around them. Along with her parents, they stood at the grand front entrance to The Magnolia House. Even though this was her second visit, the place was beyond stunning.

  Junior tugged on his daughter’s arm. “Come on, darlin’. We’ll be late for lunch with Cecil if we keep standin’ around here, watchin’ you drool,” he drawled, holding the front door open.

  The minute she walked inside the grand foyer, her grin increased. LiAnn wished Karina would have joined them, instead of staying back at the farm to work on the knee-high grass in the fields with Bo. She knew a major part of Karina’s decision to stay home centered on exploring the potential of a new relationship with Bo, but she also sensed other reasons for Karina’s unwillingness to visit The Magnolia. Karina simply wasn’t ready to deal with the memories that were sure to flood her mind upon entering a senior living facility.

  LiAnn tried to tell her the place was different, nothing at all like the previous places Karina had seen, but it was no use. Until Karina was mentally ready, LiAnn could talk until she was hoarse about the delicious aromas of food, the intoxicating mixture of roses, gardenias and jasmine, the heavy dollop of lemon-scented floor polish, and it wouldn’t matter. Karina would come when she was ready.

  LiAnn’s eyes feasted on the opulent decor, the graceful staircase glistening as sunlight streamed through the numerous windows. The ornate decorations, from expensive oil paintings on the cranberry-colored walls, to the delicate vases full of fresh cut flowers on every available space, were beyond impeccable.

  She leaned over and whispered in her mother’s ear. “Okay, so if this type of retirement home is available when I’m ready, sign me up. No wonder you and Pop thought about moving here! Talk about living like a king and queen. Yikes, I bet the monthly rental fees are ridiculous!”

  “It ain’t cheap, that’s for sure,” Ruth replied. “A one-room apartment is over five-thousand dollars a month.”

  “Holy shi..I mean, yikes, that is steep,” LiAnn replied, careful to keep her voice low as they entered the dining area. She gave a quick scan of the large room, impressed by the layout and the over-the-top decor. There were about twenty, round tables that could seat about six people each, strategically interspersed so enough room was between them for easy movement of the elderly residents. Not one was vacant. Groups of diners with snow white hair and wrinkled skin sat, gabbing and smiling as they ate lunch.

  “Ah, there’s Cecil. Come on, let’s get our plates and get situated. I’m ready to whip his butt at dominoes this week. He killed me last time. I gotta get some of my money and pride back,” Junior said, followed by a wink.

  Lunch was served on fine china, with crystal goblets full of sparkling water at the end of the lunch line. While in the serving line, LiAnn scanned the dining room for Jimmy. When she didn’t see him, a fleeting sense of sadness hit her. She realized she’d actually been looking forward to seeing him. LiAnn listened with only one ear as her parents greeted other seniors while they made their way over to sit with Cecil.

  “I was beginnin’ to think y’all stood me up!” Cecil said, rising to his feet to pull out LiAnn’s chair. He gave her a bear hug, which she returned, after setting her plate on the table. “My, my, Ruth. You sure got some good genes. This here gal gets prettier and prettier each time I see her. A real blonde bombshell.”

  LiAnn watched her mother blush from the compliment, planting a light kiss on Cecil’s cheek before she sat down.

  “Good to see you again, Mr. Pickard! You look happy and healthy. Must be from all this fine living here! Wow, what a place, huh?” LiAnn replied, as all of them sat back down at the table.

  “Yep, it sure is. Ain’t no other facility within three hundred miles that can hold a candle to the grand old broad. Though I ain’t too fond of the management or staff, they sure know how to revive a dyin’ place.”

  For the next twenty minutes, the conversation around the table was filled with laughter and recollections about the past. LiAnn smiled and nodded at what she thought were appropriate times, but her mind was focused elsewhere. After the conversation with Karina, LiAnn brushed away her worries and fears, and prodded her mind to stop second-guessing everything and think with her heart, not her screwed-up head.

  Though she wasn’t entirely sure Jimmy would be the one to bring her out of her decades long relationship funk, LiAnn sort of hoped he would be. He was a good ten years older, at least she suspected he was, but still quite attractive.

  She forced a smirk away, thinking about the thick, salt-n-pepper hair on Jimmy’s head, almost positive it was a hairpiece. It was too perfect not to be, and LiAnn found it amusing a man his age still worried about his appearance. Jimmy had a quick, easy smile, and beautiful brown eyes that still held the glow of youth. He seemed well-educated and knowledgeable on quite a variety of subjects. He wasn’t bulky or brutish, which was the normal kind of man who caught LiAnn’s attention, though he was well built. In his youth, Jimmy Calhoun probably set tongues wagging and heads turning. The look on his face when he spoke about art made the years vanish from his face. LiAnn found that fascinating, for some odd reason.

  “LiAnn, did you hear me?”

  “Oh,
no. Sorry, Mom. Was lost in the room. What did you say?”

  “I asked if you’re gonna eat, or just sit there gawkin’ like a lost goat. Or, lookin’ for one,” Ruth prodded.

  “Ooops. Can’t help it. This place is just amazing. And I’ve seen lots of historic places in Cali. Even Hearst Castle. It’s just so beautiful.” She twisted around in her seat and pointed to the floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows, depicting a young woman on an enormous horse. “I mean, I can’t stop staring!” LiAnn hoped she sold the act, since she didn’t want any of them to know what she’d really been thinking about.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Pickard. I see you have guests again today. My, my, but your friend list just keep growing! Soon, we’ll have to get you a bigger table.”

  LiAnn turned back around at the sound of the somewhat familiar voice. It was attached to the woman she met last week, who’d introduced herself as the head of healthcare. Carmen or Carmella something-or-other.

  She stood next to Cecil, her claw-like hand perched on his right shoulder, her long, red nails shimmering under the overhead lights. Her eyes were dark chocolate brown, her skin a tawny bronze. Full, red lips slathered with entirely too much gloss parted, revealing a set of perfect, pearly whites. A head full of jet black hair framed her face, ending just above her shoulder blades. The cut was made to soften her features, but it was woefully inadequate.

  Though her smile and mannerisms screamed kindness, there was a harshness to her features. But, the thing that struck LiAnn the oddest about her was the way the woman looked her. It almost made LiAnn feel like she was naked.

  Cecil commented first. “Afternoon, Carmella. You remember Junior and Ruth Tuck? And their daughter, LiAnn? They came to have lunch with me, then check out Jimmy’s paintin’ class. Well, LiAnn did. You know I can’t draw nothin’ but a wobbly circle, and even that ain’t pretty. I stick to playin’ dominoes.”