Manhattan Hit Man (A Tanner Novel Book 18)

by Remington Kane

  “Toss them on the floor by the shotgun.”

  Although a few of the men hesitated, the last wallet hit the floor as the sound of a siren wailed in the distance.

  Pullo pointed toward the wall the car had backed through.

  “Get the fuck out of here.”

  The men looked at their wallets lying beside the shotgun with the expended shell, then, over at their dead companion, who’d been killed by the weapon. They would have a hard time explaining away their involvement in the man’s death.

  “Go! Get the hell out of here before I change my mind and kill all of you,” Pullo said.

  The men ran toward the gap in the wall. When the last one was out of sight, Tanner, Joe, and the others headed for the back door.

  They had left Red with the limo, parked around the corner at a hydrant. The limo was there, along with another car. It was the car driven by Gina Rossetti. The limo showed signs of damage to its rear, but the car had fared worse and its airbags had deployed.

  They piled into the limo where Gina sat in the back with Red, who was holding a gun on her. The gun was kept in a hidden compartment for emergencies.

  Gina had decided to bluff her way out of things. She smiled, as if confused.

  “Joe, what’s going on?”

  Pullo ignored her and talked to Red as he took the gun from the boy’s hand. The safety was still on.

  “Drive us back to the club, Red.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Don’t trust him, Uncle Joe. Did you see what he did to my car?”

  Joe backhanded Gina across the face with enough force to knock her off the seat. It was the “Uncle” part of her sentence that infuriated him. He had treated the girl like a favored niece and she had done nothing but betray him.

  After that, Gina stayed quiet, while giving venomous stares from where she’d landed, on the floor of the limo. Tanner noticed that she never shed a tear or asked about the fate of her lover, Liam. Gina Rossetti was one cold bitch.

  “I’m going to Boston to kill Moss Murphy,” Tanner told Joe. “Do you have any objections?”

  “No, but he’s a boss. I can’t order the hit, not without an approval from the commission in Chicago.”

  “Murphy doesn’t seem to have a problem sending his son after you, commission or no commission.”

  “That’s on him, not me. When this is over, I’ll make the commission see that we weren’t the ones who broke the peace.”

  “This won’t be a hit, then. It will just be me getting payback for the attack of the other night.”

  “The kid will warn his father, Tanner. He’ll have enough men at that compound of his to hold off an army.”

  “I know, and I’ve planned for that.”

  “How?”

  “A bit of razzle dazzle,”

  They arrived back at the club to find several men there who all looked relieved to see Joe exit the limo in one piece.

  After placing Gina up in his office with Bosco to watch over her, Joe joined Tanner down by the bar. Ivanov walked over and spoke to Pullo.

  “Joe, I passed the word among the girls and the staff that they had the night off.”

  “Thanks Fed, and thanks for your help. I didn’t expect that.”

  Ivanov smiled wryly.

  “We both know I can no longer claim to have clean hands, I might as well dirty them a little more for a good cause.”

  Joe looked over at Red.

  “Are you gonna keep your mouth shut from now on when you talk to women?”

  “Yes sir, and I’m sorry.”

  Joe shook his head in disgust.

  “I can’t really blame you, Andre. You thought she was solid… and so did I.”

  More men poured into the club, as the word went out that a war was starting. Rico greeted them and gave out instructions.

  “It looks like you’re going to have your own army here to protect you,” Tanner said.

  “I’ll be fine. Moss Murphy doesn’t know anyone like you.”

  “No, but be careful anyway. He does have Finn Kelly.”

  “I’ll handle Kelly, but my guess is that he’ll be guarding Murphy.”

  Tanner looked at his watch.

  “I’ll make it back by morning. Hold down the fort.”

  Joe offered his hand.

  “Make sure you come back, we’ve still got some catching up to do.”

  Tanner gripped Joe’s hand.

  “And new hell to raise.”

  20

  I Own You!

  Fenner held a Smith & Wesson model 41 pistol an inch away from the right temple of Ricky Valente and pulled the trigger.

  The dozing Ricky left the land of the living, but looked little changed from his animate self. The .22 slug that entered his brain lacked the kinetic energy to exit it. Other than a streak of blood down the right side of his face, Ricky looked as if he were sleeping.

  Blood dripped onto the carpet and the tops of the white sneakers. Fenner made a point of stepping in it, then he tracked bloody prints across the carpet.

  Fenner left the trailer, but only after peeking out to see that no one was around. The nearest trailer other than Julie Ryan’s was over a hundred feet away. The sound of the target pistol might have been overheard, but Fenner doubted the muted sound would be recognized for what it was.

  He left the door to Ricky’s trailer open as he headed over to pick the lock on Julie’s. Fenner never noticed the strand of hair that fell when he opened the door.

  Julie’s dog was standing just inside the trailer and growling up at him. Fenner reared back a foot and connected with a kick that sent the dog flying to the other side of the room. Missy landed upside down against a wall, then bolted away, to squeeze beneath the sofa.

  Once inside Julie’s trailer, Fenner eased his feet out of the sneakers. After looking around, he tucked the incriminating footwear away under the bed. With the gun, he was more creative and took the time to pry off a piece of faux wood paneling, which he slipped the gun behind.

  As he walked back out of the trailer, the metal steps felt rough and gritty beneath his stocking feet. Fenner sat on one of those steps and used his hands to brush off the bottom of his socks, so he could put on the shoes dangling around his neck.

  After looking about to make certain that no one had come near to investigate the sound of the shot, Fenner headed back to his car. Had anyone gotten nosy, Julie would have been framed for another murder. He still carried a knife and would have used it with skill and experience.

  There was a narrow trail through the sparse trees that led to a gap in the bushes. Fenner walked along it and was back on the highway. Less than a hundred yards away was the parking lot of a strip mall. Fenner had parked there instead of the nearer supermarket lot, because the strip mall had a damaged camera at the rear where he could come and go from his vehicle without being captured on video.

  Fenner was smiling as he merged back onto the highway. Julie Ryan would have no choice but to do as he wished from this point forward. Soon, the police would be looking for her as a suspect in a murder investigation.

  Julie would have a decision to make. Face further disgrace and incarceration, or acquiesce to Fenner’s demands and become a slave to him.

  Slavery was the better choice by far, Fenner thought. Julie would have to service him sexually, yes, but she would also be placed in a comfortable home and have her needs seen to as well.

  She would never have to cook or clean, as Fenner had servants for that. And while he would demand sex, it would be at infrequent intervals and require nothing perverted.

  Fenner made a small laughing sound in his throat as he recalled his past slaves. It always seemed to be more onerous for them to submit to his demand to be called Master, than it was for them to drop to their knees and please him. And yet, call him Master they did, right up until the day he grew tired of them.

  He wondered how long Julie Ryan would last before he killed her. He hoped it would be quite some time, and oh,
how he couldn’t wait to hear her utter the words, “Yes, Master.”

  Fenner motored along, happy in his insanity.

  In New York City, Sara watched as Kevin Kincaid drove his car into the student parking garage. Minutes later, Kevin exited the garage on foot and headed off to class inside a nearby building.

  Once again, Sara considered confronting Kevin, but then decided to follow him around for at least two more days. As she watched the young man, she remembered the boy Kevin. He had been a cheerful kid before he and Alicia had suffered the loss of their parents. After that, Kevin’s nature grew serious and he tended to be withdrawn.

  Sara looked at the clock on her car’s dashboard and saw that she had several hours to fill before Kevin would be done with classes for the day. She decided to use the time to visit the lake property and stock the trailer with food for their next visit.

  What Sara didn’t know was that Kevin planned to slip off campus by foot and meet up with the other members of his support group.

  Today was to be the day they would rob their last bank and give Ian Seagate a small measure of revenge. However, there was a new player in their game. His name was Luis Zade. Zade had his own ideas about revenge.

  Sara drove toward Connecticut. Half an hour later, Kevin Kincaid left campus to go rob a bank.

  Julie was approaching her car after leaving the homeless shelter where she volunteered. She was in high spirits. One of the children, an adventurous boy, had fallen off the two-story roof and broken his leg. Julie, a former ER nurse, had cared for him and soothed him until the ambulance arrived.

  It was the most nursing she had done in a long time and it made her realize how much she missed being a nurse.

  She was thinking about that when the man who had ruined her career fell in step beside her.

  “I own you, Julie Ryan.”

  Julie startled at Fenner’s appearance and backed away from the madman.

  “Get away from me you freak or I’ll start screaming.”

  “Your trailer-trash boyfriend is dead. I killed him and framed you for his murder.”

  Julie gawked at Fenner.

  “What?”

  “The man who lives in the trailer next to yours. The one you’ve been having sex with. I’ve just come from shooting him. The police will think you’ve done it. I’ve made sure of that.”

  Julie’s hands flew to her mouth, as she tried to comprehend the enormity of what Fenner was saying. But it couldn’t be true. Shane dead? And herself, framed once again, but for murder?

  “No. You’re lying. You sick son of a bitch, you’re lying!”

  Fenner smiled as if he had just heard the wittiest joke.

  “Go see for yourself. Go on, and once you do, know this—I’m your only way out. Give yourself to me, Julie. I’ll keep you safe from the law. Deny me, and you’ll never know peace or safety.”

  “A lie. What you said about Shane is a lie,” Julie said, but the words lacked any semblance of conviction. While sobbing, she unlocked her car and climbed inside.

  When she looked back at Fenner, he was waving at her. She lowered the window and screamed at him.

  “Who are you? Who the hell are you?”

  Fenner’s happy smile returned.

  “Why Julie, I’m your master. Don’t you see that by now?”

  Julie wiped her tears away and started the car. She was headed to the trailer park, and every piece of her dreaded what she would find.

  21

  Do Me A Favor And Shoot Me

  As Tanner drove toward Boston he was reminded how negligent he had been in one area of his training.

  Being a Tanner required continual striving, constant improvement, and the expanse of knowledge. He was skilled in many martial arts, could converse in over a dozen languages, picked most locks with ease, and was even a competent sailor. Where he had been lax was in acquiring the skills of a pilot.

  The four hour driving time between Boston and New York City highlighted how limited his mobility was. He could drive just about anything, but could fly nothing more than a paper airplane. He would need to correct that weakness.

  Duke had provided the flatbed truck he was driving, along with the forged Motor Vehicle and D.O.T. documents. He never thought the man had a sense of humor, but the logos Duke put on the truck doors had changed Tanner’s opinion on that subject.

  AAA Exterminators – No Job Is Too Big – Phone 555-482-6637

  The 555 area-code held no meaning, but the phone number, 482-6637 spelled out I Tanner.

  Why an exterminator would need to own a flatbed truck was a mystery to Tanner, but he doubted anyone would give the bland vehicle a second look.

  Tanner checked his watch and saw that he should have plenty of time to prepare for his attack on Moss Murphy’s estate. Although, outlandish and theatrical, Tanner didn’t doubt that his UFO ruse would work.

  He knew human nature, and understood the innate curiosity that all possessed. The thugs guarding Murphy would drop their guard as they stared in wonder at the prop crated atop the truck, and like moths drawn to a flame, they would burn.

  Julie parked her car, left it running, and rushed up the stairs leading to Ricky Valente’s trailer.

  She stopped in the doorway when she saw the bloody sneaker prints on the carpet, then sighed with relief as her eyes fell on Ricky.

  Asleep, Julie thought, Shane is only sleeping.

  She was in denial. Despite her medical training, her experience, and the evidence gathered by her senses, Julie did not want to believe that she was being framed again, and for such a terrible act as the taking of an innocent life.

  Shane had been her friend. He had nothing to do with the maniac hounding her. If he were dead, his death would be on her conscience, even though she had done nothing personally to cause his demise.

  So, she told herself that the malodorous odor throughout the trailer wasn’t caused by the vacated bowels of a fresh corpse. And the darkening red marks on the carpet? Well, they were just part of a sick joke.

  “Shane, Shane wake up! That man I was telling you about is here.”

  Julie had been walking toward the body as she spoke. When she was less than a yard away she could no longer deny the awful truth. The man she knew as Shane was dead, as dead as anyone will ever be, and the bloodstains marring the carpet were real.

  Julie tripped and came close to falling as she spun to head back out the door. She was crying again, her mind roiled in turmoil. She jumped back in her car, wanting to get away, to run, to hide once more.

  “Missy?”

  She had to get her dog.

  Julie had placed a hair between the door and the jamb every time she left to go out. The hair was no longer there, but Julie didn’t even notice, because when she placed her key in the lock she realized it wasn’t needed.

  There was a red spot right inside the door that stained the cheap beige carpet. It was blood.

  “Missy? Baby, where are you?”

  A small brown head poked out from under the sofa. Julie walked over and scooped the dog up in her arms, as she checked the hound for injuries. Missy appeared to be fine, and yet, she had never hidden under the sofa before.

  Julie damned Fenner’s soul without even knowing his name. Poor Missy had been abused as a puppy. It was beyond cruel for her to suffer again.

  At least the dog was alive, which was more than Shane could claim. Julie wiped at tears again. She didn’t stop to pack anything, she only wanted to get away.

  When she stepped outside, Fenner was there, pointing up at the sky.

  “Hear that, Julie? Those are sirens. I called the police. You see, there really is no choice. Submit to me, serve me, and you’ll be spared being locked up again.”

  Julie stood there dumbly, as the sound of the sirens grew closer.

  Fenner held up a key ring.

  “You might have noticed that your car has stopped running. That’s because I have your keys.”

  He made a casual gesture and se
nt the keys off into the brush, then grinned.

  “I own you, Julie Ryan. Come with me and stay out of prison.”

  Fenner smiled. He couldn’t help it. This is where he always got them. They all told themselves that they would just humor him long enough to get away, to have time to think, maybe even take control of the situation and force Victor Fenner to admit his guilt to the authorities.

  But what they were doing was stepping upon the slipperiest of slopes.

  When it was safe again, they all left him, but not before he made certain they could contact him. Later, as the police grew closer, or they were refused assistance by family and friends, then, they would seek him out.

  Who wouldn’t refuse them aid or shelter, when all they offered as assurance of their innocence was a tale of an unnamed Bogeyman. At this stage, the making of a slave was fraught with difficulties.

  Over the years, several of the women had been apprehended before he could save them. Once, he’d even lost one to suicide. That one still bruised him, she had been an especially beautiful redhead, and would have been an enjoyable slave.

  Of the ones that had been arrested, all of them were serving time, and there was a special case of a failed slave being committed to a mental institution.

  Fenner was confident that Julie would step upon that slippery slope and begin the final process, but to his surprise, she bolted toward the highway with the dog in her arms.

  He sighed.

  For as much trouble as she was, she had better be worth it, or her stint as a slave would be brief. Fenner followed Julie’s path as he headed to his car, knowing he could find her again as she scurried along the highway.

  Sammy wondered what was going on, as two police cars turned into the entrance of the trailer park he’d been headed to. Were the cops there because of some reason that concerned Ricky Valente, or on another matter?

  Sammy drove by the entrance and parked on the side of the road. He had been there for only seconds when a blonde emerged from the bushes. She was beautiful, full of curves, and crying her eyes out. In her arms was a little brown dog.