Tommy Gabrini: A Family Man

by Mallory Monroe

  Although Tommy had his arm stretched out across the back of the pew, their two children sat in between he and Grace and therefore all he could touch of Grace was a portion of her shoulder. Every chance he got; however, he squeezed that shoulder, causing Grace to glance his way, and they smiled at each other.

  The pastor preached a sermon with a simple title. “Always do the right thing,” he said. From the Book of Galatians, Chapter 6 and verse 7, he read: “Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”

  As evidence of Tommy’s lapsed Catholicism, Tommy had not remembered ever hearing that very popular verse before. Not ever. But it resonated with him. The sermon did as well. “Always do the right thing,” the pastor declared. “It’s easy to do bad. It is so very easy to do the wrong thing. But you’ve got to make a conscious decision to do good. Because whichever road you choose, that is the road you’re going to be on. Don’t get stuck on the wrong road, beloved. You will regret that decision with bitter regret. You will reap what you sow, my friends,” he added. “Don’t you dare think you won’t.”

  Then he read another scripture, Exodus 20:5-6, that caught Tommy’s attention even more starkly. “Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them,” he said, “for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me; and showing mercy unto thousands of them that love me, and keep my commandments.”

  It was a powerful sermon, and Grace and everybody in the sanctuary were amen-ing it and eating it up. Tommy was eating it up, too, but in the opposite way. Because he knew he’d done a lot in his life. A lot of horrific things he was not proud of. Earlier that very morning, with that young innocent homeless kid, a prime example. And it was his family, his children, that he knew could bare the blowback.

  When they left the sanctuary, his heart still felt heavy.

  “You’re going to lunch with us, Daddy?” Destiny asked him as he walked them to Grace’s Bentley.

  But before Tommy could answer, his cell phone rang. When he pulled it out, and saw that it was Sal, he knew he had to take the call. “Give me a minute,” he said to Grace, and moved away from her car.

  “He’s not going with us,” Destiny said dejectedly as they piled into her mother’s car.

  “You don’t know that,” TJ responded to her.

  “I do know it! He never goes.”

  “That’s enough,” Grace said. She was still feeling the excitement she felt having Tommy in church with them, and wasn’t going to let anything ruin that wonderful gesture he made. She knew how hard Tommy worked. He would be with them twenty-four seven if he could, and she knew that.

  She also understood his hectic schedule would be the deal when she decided to remarry him. Coming to church with them was a baby step he took today, but it was a step in the right direction. She was grateful.

  But when she looked over at Tommy talking on his cell phone, and the concerned look on his face, she also knew Des was right. He wasn’t coming with them. And she couldn’t help it. She was disappointed too.

  When his call ended, he made his way back over to Grace’s car. Even women in the parking lot were still eyeballing him, as if they just might stand a chance themselves. It used to bother Grace mightily. But no more. She was confident in Tommy’s love for her.

  She pressed down the driver side window when he arrived at her car, and he stood at that window. Grace glanced through her rearview mirror. Destiny, who sat in the backseat with her baby brother, was staring at her father as if she was daring him to prove her earlier pronouncement wrong.

  Tommy did no such thing. “I have to take care of a little business,” he said, leaning into Grace’s window.

  Destiny shook her head and looked away from him. TJ was disappointed too.

  “It can’t wait?” Grace asked, hoping against hope that he could find a way, for his children’s sake, if for no other reason.

  But Tommy couldn’t. They’d found that motorcyclist from earlier that morning. He had to handle it. “It can’t wait,” he said to Grace. “But I’ll try my best to be home for dinner.”

  Grace glanced at the kids again. That was little consolation to them. She looked at Tommy. “Don’t try,” she said to him. “Be home. We made a deal,” she reminded him.

  Tommy stared into Grace’s eyes. She was as disappointed in him as his kids were, but she still, he knew, stood up for him at every turn. It was heartbreaking. “I’ll be home,” he promised, and he was going to keep that word even if he had to move mountains to make it so.

  He leaned in and kissed Grace on the lips. He wanted to linger, but he knew the children were watching. Then he looked at his kids. “Be good,” he said to them which, he knew, was hollow coming from him.

  “You heard your father,” Grace said when neither one of them responded to him.

  “Yes, sir,” said TJ.

  “Destiny?”

  “Yes, sir,” Destiny said too, with a little attitude mixed in.

  Tommy didn’t blame them. He deserved their anger. But he kissed Grace again, and took off. He glanced at the security detail always with his family. To most people, they didn’t notice the car. And Tommy wouldn’t have it any other way.

  He got into his own car, and drove away.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Sal Gabrini was waiting outside of the safe house when Tommy drove up in his Maserati. His loud as hell Maserati, Sal thought, with a smile. He met his brother halfway up the walkway.

  “Is he talking?” Tommy asked.

  “He’s talking. But you won’t believe what he’s saying.”

  “What’s he saying?”

  “I’ll let him tell you that bullshit.”

  “Did he say DeLuca was involved?”

  “He said he wasn’t. He’d never heard of Joe DeLuca.”

  Tommy looked at his brother. “You believe him?”

  Sal nodded. “Yeah, I do. He ain’t lying about that.” Then Sal switched gears. “Where you been? I went by the house expecting to find you still in bed, but your ass was gone. I called and called. But no answer.”

  “I was in church.”

  “In where?”

  “Church.”

  Sal smiled.

  Tommy didn’t. “What?”

  “You in church. That’s what!” Then he realized his brother was probably still suffering because of what happened to that kid, and went to church because he wanted to pay penance. “But it’s a good thing,” he added.

  Tommy ignored him and went on inside. Sal followed him in.

  Once inside, Tommy went over to the table where their prisoner sat. He removed his hat and tossed it onto the table. Sal stood beside Tommy. Both men had their hands in their pockets. Both men looked, the biker thought, like they weren’t in some seedy safe house, but were on their way to the office.

  “I understand you’ve got something to tell me,” Tommy said.

  The prisoner looked at Tommy. He had already been badly beaten.

  “Open your trap and talk, motherfucker,” Sal said. “Tell him what you told me.”

  It was obvious to Tommy that the guy had told Sal whatever he told him under serious duress. Sal had fucked him up bad.

  “I said ask Henry,” the prisoner finally said.

  “Henry?” Tommy asked. “Henry who?”

  “This is the fucked-up part,” Sal said to Tommy. “Tell him who,” he said to their prisoner.

  “Henry, your butler, or whatever he is to you,” the prisoner said.

  Sal laughed. Tommy stared at the prisoner. Henry was Tommy’s longtime guy, a man who stood by Tommy through thick and thin. A man Tommy trusted with his life.

  That was why it confused Sal. Because unlike him, Tommy wasn’t laughing at all. His look, to Sal’s surprise, was pure seriousness. “What does Henry have to do with this?” Tommy asked the prisoner.

  “He hired me.”

  “To d
o what?”

  “Scare Pauley Sabbatino. I wasn’t supposed to kill him, but I lost control of my bike and I hit him too hard.”

  “Bullshit,” Sal said. “Your ass forgot? We were there. We saw what you did!”

  “But I wasn’t supposed to kill him! I didn’t mean to kill him!”

  “Why would my butler want you to scare Pauley?” Tommy asked, his entire focus on that one man.

  “I don’t know why. He just told me to do it.”

  Tommy thought back. The night Sal told him that Pauley wanted to talk, Tommy told two people he was going out that night. Grace and Henry. But he only told one person where exactly he was going: Henry.

  Tommy let out a harsh exhale. But Sal was baffled. “Why are you entertaining this shit, Tommy? You know Henry wouldn’t betray you. He loves you. He’s in love with you, if you ask me. He’d be the last person on earth that would betray you. I’m not buying this shit. I can’t believe you are.”

  “You think I wanna believe it? Hell no, Sal! But--”

  “But what?” Sal asked.

  “He knew where I was going.”

  “So?”

  “He was the only one who knew. I didn’t tell anybody else.”

  Sal stared at him. “Are you serious, Tommy? You’re considering good old Hank? Come on, man!”

  Tommy hesitated. “There’s something else,” he said.

  Given Tommy and Henry’s relationship, Sal knew it had to be. “What?”

  Tommy ran his hand through his hair.

  “What, Tommy?” Sal asked anxiously.

  “He wrote a check in my name. Without my permission.”

  “Henry? Damn. That doesn’t even sound like him.”

  “It’s been confirmed.”

  “For how much?”

  “A hundred thousand.”

  Sal was floored. “Shit! When did this happen?”

  “It happened a few days ago. I found out about it yesterday. I confronted him last night.”

  “Before or after we met with Pauley?”

  “Before.”

  Sal could hardly believe it. “Damn, Tommy. Why would he steal it? You’d give it to him if he only asked you. He knows how you feel about him.”

  “Yep,” Tommy said. Betrayal always cut him deep.

  “Where is he now?” Sal asked. “You fired his ass, I hope.”

  Tommy frowned. “No, I didn’t fire him.”

  Sal was surprised. “Why the hell not?”

  “Because he’s family. You don’t fire family! You help them.”

  “Like hell you do! Let one of my employees misappropriate that kind of dough from me. I’ll fire their asses in a heartbeat. Grace knows? What does she have to say about this helping him shit?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to tell her anything about it yet. I told you I just found out last night, and then you called me about the meeting with Pauley.”

  “So you left him home with your family?”

  “He wouldn’t harm any of us. Period,” Tommy said.

  “You didn’t think he’d steal from you, either, now did you?”

  “He won’t harm any of us,” he said. “He’s our family, but we’re his too.”

  Sal knew it was true. But he also knew his brother, and how he felt about his family. “You called in Branson Nash to beef up security while you were gone. Didn’t you?”

  Tommy had, but he wasn’t admitting it.

  “So,” said Sal, “what are you thinking? You think Henry actually did hire this punk here because he was upset that you found out about his stealing? But why would he tell him to scare Pauley? That makes no sense. What does Pauley have to do with it?”

  They looked at their prisoner. “Why did he want you to scare Pauley?” Tommy asked him.

  “I don’t know,” the prisoner said. “He just told me to do it. He paid me to do it.”

  “Where did you meet Henry?”

  “A few blocks from where Pauley was meeting you. He paid me and took off. But I didn’t mean to kill Pauley. I wasn’t supposed to kill him, and I didn’t mean to kill him. I run errands. That’s all I do. I didn’t mean to kill him just like you didn’t mean to kill that kid.” He was looking at Tommy. “I was in that building. I saw what you did. But it was an accident. What I did was an accident too.”

  “Ah, give me a fucking break!” Sal yelled. “You knew exactly what you were doing.” And then Sal took his fist ready to administer more justice. But Tommy stopped his fist.

  Sal looked at him. “What are you doing? Falling for his bullshit? He killed Pauley. He can ID you in that kid’s shooting. You heard him, he threw it up in your face first chance he got. We’ve got to handle this, Tommy.”

  Tommy knew it too. He didn’t want to fall in that ditch again, but he had a problem. He was already in the ditch. He had already fallen.

  As their prisoner screamed and begged for mercy, declaring he didn’t mean to kill Pauley, Tommy removed his hand from Sal. And Sal, no longer interested in slow-walking that motorcyclist to his death, decided against the beating for Tommy’s sake. He pulled out his revolver, instead, and sent their prisoner to his long home. Wherever that might be.

  “Be not deceived,” Tommy could hear that preacher saying. “God is not mocked. For whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.”

  Tommy let out a harsh exhale, grabbed his hat, and left the safe house.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The high-revved engine of Tommy’s Maserati could be heard before it arrived at the manned gate of his sprawling estate. When it arrived at the turn-in that led up to the gate, Tommy gave a nod to the front gate security guard. The guard pressed the button, the gate opened, and Tommy drove on through.

  He had already phoned Branson Nash, his head of security, about Mortimer Steele, but Bran had never heard of the name either. But Tommy ordered him to do an extensive background and find out if there was anybody who worked for them who was either affiliated with the guy or knew the guy. But Tommy knew that could take a while. But it was the only unknown name they had.

  When Tommy parked his car at the main house, got out and made it inside the house, he called out to Grace and the kids. But they hadn’t arrived back home yet. He called out to Henry, but he wasn’t back either. He hadn’t seen Henry since before he went to meet with Pauley. Which was beginning, he realized, to be a crucial absence.

  That motorcyclist claimed Henry paid him to scare Pauley, which Tommy knew was a lie given the way he came at Pauley on that motorcycle. He was paid by somebody to kill Pauley, not to scare him. He was certain of that.

  But to claim Henry paid him. Where did that come from, Tommy wondered, as he made his way to the bar in the back of his massive living room. Henry wouldn’t do that shit. He’d believe anybody else on his payroll pulled it before he’d believe Henry did. He didn’t care how naïve that sounded.

  He poured himself a glass of wine and stood at the bar drinking it. He kept thinking about what that preacher said. He couldn’t get it out of his head. “It’s easy to do bad,” that preacher said. “It is so very easy to do the wrong thing. But you’ve got to make a conscious decision to do good. Because whichever road you choose, that is the road you’re going to be on. Don’t get stuck on the wrong road, beloved. You will regret that decision with bitter regret. You will reap what you sow, my friends. Don’t you dare think you won’t.”

  Tommy took another sip, and then drank the whole thing down. He was about to pour himself another shot, but his cell phone began ringing. He looked at the Caller ID. Caller was unknown. Because his family was not at home, he answered anyway. Just in case.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Tommy Gabrini?”

  “May I ask who’s calling?”

  “We have your family, Mr. Gabrini.”

  Tommy was filling his glass with more wine when the voice on the other end of the phone spoke those words. He stopped mid pour. “Excuse me?”

  “We have your family.”

&
nbsp; Tommy sat the wine bottle down, and frowned. “Who is this?”

  “You have thirty seconds to transfer five million dollars out of your bank account and into ours. Account number 8882357. I repeat, 8882357.”

  They weren’t amateurs, Tommy knew right away, because they apparently knew that he had CTS (Corporate Transfer Systems) capability, where major funds, with the input of a PIN, the account number where the funds would be transferred to, and the amount requested, could be transferred within seconds. It was supposed to be one of the best-guarded secrets in the corporate world. It was how Fortune 500 companies made split second deals when delay would be a deal breaker. Tommy took the call seriously.

  He immediately pressed his silent security alarm, alerting security on site of an inside-the-house problem, and then began hurrying toward his home office. He had several phones in his desk drawer. He would call Grace or his children or somebody on one of them! “Who the fuck is this?” he was asking the caller as he hurried for his office. “What are you talking about you have my family? How do I know that? What is this about?”

  “You’ve wasted ten precious seconds already, Mr. Gabrini. Twenty. Nineteen.”

  “Let me talk to my wife!”

  “Eighteen. Seventeen.”

  “I’ll believe it if you let me talk to my wife!”

  “Sixteen.”

  “Let me talk to my wife!”

  “You aren’t talking to anybody! We set the rules this time. Not you! Fifteen. Fourteen.”

  Tommy was in his office now, and his onsite security team was just entering the house and running toward the sound of his voice. “How the fuck do you expect me to believe you have my family if you won’t let me talk to any of them?”

  “Thirteen. Twelve. Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. We will kill your entire family, your wife and your two children, if you do not transfer those funds immediately. Ten. Nine.”

  Tommy was panicking now. This shit was real now! He reached into his drawer and grabbed one of the cell phones. “Eight. Seven.”

  His security team ran into his office, but he knew he was out of time. He had no time to call anybody. He had no time to tell his team to call Grace. He was out of time! They could be bullshitting, or they could be the real deal. He had to assume, for his family’s sake, that they were real.