Last Man Standing

by Wendy Rosnau

  She touched her stomach, smiled. “Yes, another baby. A playmate for Nicci. Joey seems happy about it.”

  “You feeling all right?”

  “Yes. A little tired, but that’s to be expected. Joey said you flew Elena back home in the middle of the night.”

  “It was overdue. Her leaving, I mean.”

  She studied him a moment, then her gaze shifted to the teapot. “When did you start drinking tea?”

  Lucky grinned. “Summ tells me I smell better now that I’ve given up Scotch.”

  “And who’s responsible for that? Elena?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I think you should have told Elena the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “The truth about how you feel about her. That you love her.”

  Normally Lucky didn’t discuss personal business, but this was Rhea. They had become close over the past few weeks. It was hard to explain how it had happened, but they had mutual feelings about family, and it had connected them quickly. He said, “Joey told you?”

  “Yes. But I’d already guessed. Last night at dinner you couldn’t keep your eyes off her. And after that, in Elena’s room, she was emotional when I mentioned you. She tried to cover it up, but I saw.”

  “Saw what?”

  “I believe she cares deeply for you, too. Do you believe she’s in love with you? Did she tell you she was?”

  Elena had said the words to him the first time they made love. He had heard them clearly, though he’d pretended not to. Sometimes, in the heat of…euphoria, a person said things they didn’t really mean. It was likely the case here, for Elena hadn’t repeated the words since and had barely looked at him when he’d left her at the airport with Frank.

  “Love is a complicated emotion.” Rhea reached for the bottle of perfume and sniffed it, then set it back on the desk.

  “At Santa Palazzo,” Lucky explained, “Elena will have a normal life. Here, she would live surrounded by bodyguards and uncertainty. She deserves better than that. You do, too. But you were stubborn.”

  “I love Joey. Life without him wouldn’t be worth living. We all live with uncertainty. None of us knows if we’ll be here tomorrow. It’s true the other option might have been more amicable for someone else, and maybe it will work for Elena. But not for me. A woman has a right to make her choice, just like a man does. Don’t you agree?”

  Put on the spot, Lucky scowled. “Go to bed, Rhea. It’s late and you need to rest so my new nephew or niece will be born healthy.”

  She rounded the desk, leaned close and kissed his cheek. “Oh, yes, Summ’s right. You do smell better. Much better.” She straightened, smiled down at him. “The air in here smells good, too. Good night, Lucky.”

  The phone call came the next afternoon at exactly three o’clock while Lucky and Palone were sequestered in the study blueprinting their strategy with Joey. Palone handed Lucky the phone, mouthing the words, “It’s D’Lano.”

  Lucky took the phone, said, “I’ve been expecting your call. What’s on your mind, Vinnie?”

  “I have something of yours, and you have something I want.”

  “And what do you have of mine?”

  “Your family.”

  Lucky’s jaw tightened, not liking the plural implication. “Who do you have?”

  “You’ll find out when we meet. Agreed?”

  “Sì. Where?”

  “There. At Dante Armanno. I want you to open the gate and let me in. I want you to send the guards away, all of them. And pen the dogs. And I want you and your brother out front to meet me. Unarmed.”

  “How do I know you have my family? Joey is standing next to me.”

  “So you want proof? A hand or a foot sent to you in a brown paper bag? It could be arranged.”

  Lucky’s gut knotted. “That won’t be necessary. When should we expect you?”

  “Within the hour. Send the guards away, Lucky. My men are watching the house. Capiche?”

  When the phone went dead, Lucky slammed it back in the cradle.

  “What is it, Lucky?” Joey was no longer in his chair. Dressed in jeans and a red sweater, he stared at his brother, waiting to hear the news.

  “He wants to meet with us here.”

  “Here?”

  “He wants us out front in an hour. Unarmed, Joey. He wants all the guards off the grounds and the dogs penned.”

  “He’s coming into the lion’s den?” Palone said. “He must feel pretty damn confident.”

  “Which means he believes he’s got us by the balls,” Joey offered. “That tells me he’s got Jacky.”

  “It appears that way,” Lucky agreed. “But he used the word family. Why wouldn’t he have used the word friend?”

  Joey frowned. “I don’t like that.”

  Feeling suddenly sick, Lucky reached for the phone and punched in Frank’s private line. The phone rang eight times before he disconnected.

  “Who did you try to call?” Joey asked.

  “Frank. He’s not picking up.”

  “You think maybe Vinnie found out about Santa Palazzo?” He swore. “Hell, call the house. Call Elena.”

  Lucky dialed back, this time punching in the house number for Santa Palazzo.

  “Palazzo residence.”

  “I would like to speak to Elena, please.”

  “I’m sorry, she’s not here.”

  “Where is she? This is Lucky Masado.”

  “I believe she’s out somewhere with Mr. Palazzo. Can I take a message? They’ve been gone awhile.”

  “No, no message.” Lucky hung up. “She’s with Frank somewhere.”

  “Well, at least we know they’re together and still in Key West.” Joey sighed, rubbed his jaw. “We need to get Rhea and Niccolo and Sunni out of here. I thought this was the safest place for them, but now they’re sitting smack in the middle of this mess, and I can’t live with that.”

  “It’s too late to move them,” Lucky argued. “Vinnie’s got men watching the house, checking to make sure the guards leave. If we send Rhea and Sunni out, they’ll be sitting ducks. No, we don’t move anyone out, Joey. That would be a serious mistake.” He walked to the bookcase and pressed a button hidden behind a row of books, and the bookcase parted to reveal a dark passageway. Both Palone and Joey stared in surprise.

  “Vito was a shrewd bastard,” Lucky admitted. “He let me believe there was only one tunnel under the house. Obviously by the look on your face, Palone, you believed there was only one, too. This is how Elena left the house the other night to pay Vinnie a surprise visit without anyone knowing about it. It’ll be a good place for Sunni, Rhea and Niccolo to hide while Vinnie’s here. If things go to hell, they have a way out alive.”

  Joey’s visible concern for his family lifted, and he nodded his approval. “I agree the tunnel is the safest place for them.”

  Lucky checked his watch. “We’ve got an hour. Let’s get moving. I want to give Vinnie the welcome he deserves. Palone, round up the men and move them out, then lock up the dogs.”

  “Sunni?” Lucky had gone looking for Jacky’s fiancée and found her standing and staring out the window in the breakfast room. Mac, Jackson’s German shepherd, sat beside her.

  Wearing jeans and a red silk blouse, a glass of orange juice in her hand, Sunni was a diabetic who needed to maintain a strict diet and eating schedule. She was a beautiful woman with shiny black hair and soft gray eyes. “Have you heard something?” she asked in a strong husky voice that belied her petite size.

  “D’Lano called. He’s coming here. I believe he has Jacky with him, but I won’t know that for certain until they get here.”

  “I’m afraid, Lucky.”

  She moved to him, and he comforted her by wrapping his arms around her. Mac growled. Lucky ignored him and said, “I can’t predict what’s going to happen, Sunni. But know that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to return Jacky to you safely. Trust me on that.”

  She looked up at hi
m, her black hair framing her face. “I do trust you. And Joey. And I trust that whatever happens is supposed to happen. I’m still afraid, but…”

  “There’s an escape tunnel in the house. I want you and Rhea to take Niccolo and go there. The tunnel empties out just south of River Road. A gray Lexus will be parked a quarter mile away.” Lucky handed Sunni the keys to the car. “If you have to get out of the house, take the car and go.”

  “How will we know if we should leave?”

  “If things go to hell, you’ll know it. Hear it,” Lucky amended. “There’s an alarm system in the house and I’ve reset the timer. If it goes off, then you’ll know you need to leave. But don’t leave before six o’clock. It’ll be dark then and safer. The tunnel isn’t heated, and you’ll need to dress warmly. And, Sunni, if you have to leave, no one stays behind. Capiche?”

  “Yes.”

  “Rhea will argue with you on that, so be ready for it. I’m sending Summ with you, too.” Lucky took her hands, squeezed gently. “Jacky’s a lucky guy. After the wedding, I get a dance.”

  His comment tugged a smile from her, which was what Lucky was after. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. Again Mac growled, and again he was ignored.

  Lucky’s next objective was to find Summ and convince her to go with the women. He found her talking to Palone at the top of the stairs. “I want you to go with the other women, Summ,” he said as he climbed the steps. “I’m sending them to wait in the second tunnel until this is all over.” When she started to object, as he knew she would, he said, “Rhea’s pregnant. She’ll need you to help her with Niccolo. Put together some food and blankets. Palone, help Summ get the supplies into the tunnel. Whatever they’ll need, see to it. Are the guards gone?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And the dogs?”

  “I saw to them personally.”

  “Good. Get the women settled, then take your position, Palone.”

  Vinnie D’Lano’s Black Lincoln Town Car drove through the open gates of Dante Armanno at four o’clock. It was followed by a black van and two black Mercedes.

  Lucky and Joey stood beneath the archway as the wind whistled around them.

  Joey tugged up his leather collar against the bitter cold as the convoy pulled up. “You suppose that second car is the Colombians, Lucky?”

  “It looks like it.”

  “Then you were right. He’s decided to get involved in some serious drug running. I wonder if he knows that these boys play for keeps.”

  “The Colombians aren’t the only ones who play for keeps, fratello.” Lucky rolled his neck, ignored the snow that was collecting in his hair and on his shoulders.

  Vinnie D’Lano climbed out of the Lincoln and waited while his driver draped his coat over his shoulders. Adjusting his fedora, he walked toward Lucky and Joey with five bodyguards, each carrying AR-70s. Next came two serious-faced Colombians dressed in a similar fashion, minus the hat. Tony Roelo walked a dozen steps behind him with Moody Trafano balancing on crutches.

  “Where’s my family?” Lucky asked when D’Lano stopped two feet from him.

  “They will be brought in shortly. First I want my men to search you and your brother for weapons. Then the house for any surprises you might be planning.”

  “Don’t you trust me, Vinnie?” Lucky’s grin was as cold as the windchill factor.

  The older man grinned back just as coldly. “Sure I trust you, Lucky.” He looked at Joey. “It’s him I don’t trust. Sophia sends her love, Joey. Her love and her contempt.”

  Lucky and Joey were patted down by two of Vinnie’s men, and when they were satisfied they carried no weapons, they entered the house. Twenty minutes later the guards ushered three maids and Finch out of the house.

  “Four, sir. That’s all we found.”

  Vincent scowled at Lucky. “Where’s Joey’s bitch and the brat? And that funny-talking housekeeper Vito owned? And the giant called Palone?”

  Lucky said, “I sent them into town with the guards.”

  Vincent worried his mustache, studied Lucky as if trying to decide if he was telling the truth. But Lucky knew that if Vinnie had been watching the house, he couldn’t argue with the fact that a convoy of cars had left the front gate about thirty minutes ago and ended up at Masado Towers.

  “Did you check everywhere?” Vincent turned back to his guards. “Did you also check the tunnel?”

  “No, boss. We couldn’t find the entrance.”

  “It’s in the master bedroom,” Vincent said.

  “Yes, boss, but we still couldn’t find it.”

  “No tunnel, no deal,” one of the Colombians said.

  “The tunnel’s there,” Vincent promised.

  Lucky had been right. The Colombians’ alliance with Vinnie hinged on Dante Armanno’s tunnel. Its size was perfect, and the mouth of the tunnel was only a few hundred yards from the river. It was a natural freeway to Lake Michigan.

  The good news was that Vito had mentioned only one tunnel. Certain he knew nothing about the one accessed from the study, Lucky felt confident the women were safe. He said, “Let’s go inside and get these negotiations underway, Vinnie.”

  Vincent’s grin spread, and Lucky suspected the man was already counting the money he was going to make off the Colombians. The older man said, “After you, Lucky. Take me to the room with that big fireplace in it. It’s damn cold out here.”

  They entered the house, Lucky leading the way down the main hallway past the stairway and the floor clock that stood outside the living-room entrance. Like so many of the other rooms in the house, the living room had shiny hardwood floors, plush oriental rugs and a chandelier that was as grand and memorable as the bed in the master bedroom.

  Normally sun shone through the long narrow windows, but today the sky was angry and the only warmth came from the stone fireplace along the east wall.

  Lucky heard Joey grunt in pain, and he spun around to see one of Vinnie’s guards drive the butt of his gun into his brother’s ribs for a second time. Joey dropped to his knees, struggling to breathe. Before Lucky could counterattack, the guard raised his gun and aimed it at Lucky’s head.

  Lucky held up his hands, deciding that timing was everything. This certainly wasn’t how he’d pictured the scenario playing out—him getting shot between the eyes two minutes into the game. He looked past the guard, gave Joey a look that indicated his thoughts, then relaxed his stance.

  Because he knew D’Lano so well, knew his greed outweighed his honor, Lucky said, “I’m prepared to work this out, Vinnie. But if you hurt my family, you will never get Dante Armanno, and I know that’s what you want. You need to decide here and now if revenge on me and my brother is worth more than a profitable future with—” his gaze found the Colombians “—your new friends.”

  “It is a weighty decision, Lucky,” Vincent admitted.

  Vinnie handed Tony Roelo his hat, but kept his coat. “Tony, go get his family. Then we will start…negotiating. I’m anxious to get moved into my new home.”

  After Tony left, Vincent crossed to stand in front of the fire and pulled off his black leather gloves.

  “You’re dead, Masado. Dead!” Suddenly Moody Trafano pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against and hobbled toward Lucky on his crutches. Six feet away, he stopped and pulled a gun from his coat pocket and aimed it at Lucky’s knee. “I’m going to take you down a limb at a time, you son of a bitch. And once you’re dead, I’m going to marry Elena Tandi. And after I get bored with her, I’m going to put her on the catwalk at the Shedd and sell her to whoever I want, whenever I want. How does that make you feel, Lucky?”

  It made him feel as though he should have aimed a little higher that night a week ago, Lucky thought. He should have killed the bastard, instead of just blowing his knee to hell.

  Before Moody got a chance to pull back the hammer on his .38, Vincent said, “Put that away before you shoot one of us by mistake!”

  Moody spun around and glared at his fathe
r. “I have a right to kill him. I’ll never walk without limping.”

  Vincent’s lip curled, and he quickly strode across the room. Facing his son, he snarled, “Dante Armanno first, fool. Now go sit down and shut up.”

  “You said I was going to be the one to own Dante Armanno. You said I got—”

  Vincent backhanded Moody. “Shut up and go sit down!”

  The force knocked Moody off balance and he landed on his backside, the gun discharging and striking Lucky in the upper arm, ripping its way through his leather jacket and adding another hole.

  The force sent him to his knees, the pain stealing his breath. He struggled back to his feet, gripping his arm to stem the blood flow. “Vito’s will is complicated, Vinnie. Kill me and you’ll never get your hands on Dante Armanno.”

  There was a scuffle in the hallway. Then Tony Roelo shoved Jackson Ward ahead of him into the room. Behind them walked a frightened Lavina Ward, followed by Henry Kendler. Jackson’s face was a mass of bruises, and he had a bump on his forehead the size of a golf ball. Lavina and Kendler looked unharmed.

  Still, the sight of his friend wearing his own handcuffs and Lavina worrying her lip put Lucky’s mood in a very dark place.

  Suddenly Tony hit Jackson in the back of the head and he crumbled to the floor. Lavina cried out and rushed to her son. As she cradled his head in her lap, her gaze locked first on Joey who was on the floor a few feet away, then Lucky.

  When her gaze shifted to his bloody arm, then back to his face, he could see that her fear had doubled. He shook his head slowly, winked to reassure her that all was not lost, then he glanced at Henry Kendler who stood stiff as starch, his briefcase tightly gripped in both hands.

  The fact that the lawyer had made the trip with Jacky and Lavina wasn’t a good sign. Obviously Vincent was determined to have Dante Armanno signed over to him tonight.

  Lucky couldn’t let that happen. If he did, he was a dead man. More importantly, so was his family.