Bloody Shadows

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  Sonny earned another headshot over excessive enjoyment of Jean’s possible punishment.

  * * *

  “Wow.” Rachel sat across from Nick sipping tea at the kitchen table. “This isn’t like Jean at all. Even I admit that. You do understand what this is though with the sharing, right?”

  “I do indeed. It means if she continues along this new path, they’ll be sending a SWAT team to collect me for an extended lifetime visit at Leavenworth.”

  “It means she really likes this boy, Sonny.”

  “Yeah… that too,” Nick admitted. “My reality thinking only goes as far as my new Leavenworth stay. Ten year old crushes lose their excitement for me in comparison.”

  “We’ll work through it. I’ll talk to her. The fact she’s forgotten about our cross country jaunt, and the need for careful consideration of every word we share means she’s got it bad. I think it’s cute.”

  “Which part, my fifty year Leavenworth stretch or the crush?”

  Rachel giggled, covering Nick’s hand with hers. “Thanks for the act of debauchery you subjected me to this morning before you went to collect my new sharing daughter. Did you call Grace and Tim?”

  “You’re welcome, but I didn’t consider it a duty. It’s more of a lifetime calling. Yes, I called Tim and Grace. They’ll be here around dinner time. They can have some pizza. I’ll run a plan by them I’ve formulated, and they’ll probably throw up the pizza. Oh… Gus and Tina will be over too, so I’ll order a few big ones with the extra side dishes. I asked John, but he has a date he’d rather see one on one for now.”

  “You’ve made the US Marshals’ visit sound ominous, but I don’t want to know why. I took a nap, so I’ll be fine for guests. I’ll entertain the kids with Tina while you conduct your meeting. Are you going to demonstrate the throwing knives for Sonny?”

  “Nope. Once he has the knife throwing conversation with his parents, I believe the crush will be over too.”

  “Boys are pushovers for stuff like guns and knives. Do the demo after they finish the homework. I’ve seen you with the damn knives. I’ve always been impressed as hell with the way you can shoot, but there’s something about the way you work the knives that almost makes it seem like a magic trick.”

  “Yeah, it’s a magic trick, made so by a thousand hours of practice,” Nick admitted. “Okay, I’ll do it, but remember I warned you. Want me to fool around a little with you under the table while the kids are distracted.”

  “No!” Rachel blushed. “Damn you. Now that’s all I can think of. Get away from me.”

  “Heh…heh…” Nick slipped in beside Rachel. She made motions of fighting him off, but her breathing told a different tale. Jean took that moment to pop her head in the doorway.

  “Hey, we’re all done with the math. Come and check it, Dad. Did Mom talk you into the knife throwing demo for Sonny?”

  “Why you little brat!”

  “So, you just rolled me by preconceived plan,” Nick observed. “This affront will not be forgotten, ladies.”

  * * *

  Nick caught the knives Jean tossed in the air to him, immediately slinging them dead center on target. He then turned his back on target, spun right and then left, using both hands to throw, striking center target in each instance. He noticed the open mouthed, stunned observer, Sonny, watching with ever widening eyes. Nick also noted Sonny was filming the demo on his iPhone. Nick collected and put away the knives in their case. Tim and Grace walked out from the house to join the backyard audience of Gus, Jean, and Sonny. Nick could tell in a glance they had been watching from inside the house with Tina and Rachel.

  “Well… that’s just disturbing,” Grace said.

  “Um… very impressive, Nick,” Tim added.

  “Sonny, this is US Marshal Tim Reihold and the frumpy one is US Marshal Grace Stanwick. I’d like you to meet Jean’s new friend Sonny Salvatore.”

  Sonny shook hands with each of them. “I’ve never met a US Marshal before. It’s nice to meet you both. Mr. McCarty says he consults with you on cases. That’s really neat.”

  “I’m not sure neat is the right word,” Grace replied.

  “Choose your next word carefully, frumpy,” Nick warned, earning stifled amusement from Gus.

  Tim grinned down at Sonny, nodding in assent. “Yes he does, Sonny. We’re here to meet with him about a case today as a matter of fact.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “I’m not sure awesome is the right word,” Grace continued poking.

  “Say, would you kids like to see me throw a knife into an apple perched on Marshal Stanwick’s head?”

  “Sure,” Jean said, giggling at the death stare she received from Grace.

  “Uh… I don’t think I’d like that, Mr. McCarty,” Sonny answered seriously.

  “Dad was joking, Sonny,” Jean told him. “Let’s get some veggies and dip before the pizza comes. She guided her guest inside.

  “Would you two like to eat with us, and then talk?”

  “I’d like to hear what you have to say before eating,” Grace replied.

  “Let’s go up on the deck then.”

  When Nick offered refreshments, only Gus accepted a beer. “I’ve delved into our loose end problem. It’s partially repaired, but we have two still in need of attention. One, I won’t bother you with except as a card to play for the second loose end’s repair. Here’s what I have in mind which will require a little pain for a gain from you two.”

  Nick explained in detail how the soon unfortunate demise of Uthman Sadun’s lawyer, Brook Wargul, could be used as a ploy by the Marshals to relocate Sadun because of projected danger to his life within the Atwater Federal Prison. He and Gus retained grim featured countenances during his explanation of what was needed to repair the damage done, caused by the Pence Didricson situation not being shared with Nick.

  “I…I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Grace stated. “You want us to be shot while transporting Sadun, so you can take him somewhere to be tortured and killed, but only after you put a bullet in his lawyer’s head? Are you out of your damn psychopathic mind?”

  “It’s doable,” Tim admitted. “How would you handle the shooting? I’m not at all enthused about taking a .50 caliber bullet anywhere on my body as a wounding ploy.”

  Nick chuckled. “I would wound your passenger side tire, giving you a reason why the car went off the road. We’d pull in behind you with a tow truck, as if I’m making a service call. I’ll put a round right between Grace’s eyes, and nick your shoulder. Then-”

  “Very funny,” Grace broke in, punching her amused partner in the shoulder.

  “After I nick one of you, enabling an explanation of my having gotten the drop on you both, I’d inject something to incapacitate the valiant US Marshals while I take Sadun. An hour later, I’ll call in an anonymous concerned citizen accident report from a payphone so the brave Marshals can be found unconscious. The authorities will believe his cohorts took him in a daring daytime snatch. Their search will prove to be fruitless, and hopefully I will be able to end this unfortunate blight on our relationship.”

  “I’ll do it,” Tim said. “Grace won’t need to come along. I’ve escorted felons we had deals with from a facility where the other inmates were threatening their lives. It’s a good plan.”

  “That’s the spirit, Timmy,” Nick said, as Tim took another shoulder shot from his partner. “That’s so sweet. Tim’s taking a round for you, Grace. What a guy.”

  “I’m going along with stupid, just to make sure you don’t drill him between the horns. I think we’ll skip the pizza feast after your hair raising solution to our error in judgement. Call us when you cement the threat into place.” Grace stood and left the room.

  Tim gave Nick and Gus a small hand wave. “I’ll get her to remember we put ourselves in this situation. After what that double crossing jerk Sadun managed to do right under our noses, I won’t lose any sleep over his exit from the planet.”

  “I
wouldn’t worry about it too much, Tim. It will be over before you know it. I won’t mind having a chat with Uthman. I have a few questions for him.”

  “I’ll bet.” Tim left to follow Grace.

  * * *

  Nick arrived at the Salvatore home at 7:30 pm. Jean and Sonny were discussing the day’s happenings with an easy tone of friendship. He and Jean accompanied Sonny to the door, where a woman in jeans, sandals, and red blouse answered the door before they reached the porch. Her dark hair tied back tightly at the neck, hung past her shoulders. Nick figured her to be middle thirties, about five and a half feet tall, and athletic. Nick held out his hand.

  “Clarice?”

  “That’s me.” Clarice shook his hand with a firm grip. “Come in for a moment, Nick. Did Sonny give you a bad time?”

  “Nope. He was a perfect guest except when he and Jean talked me into a knife throwing exhibition. I was surprised you gave him permission.”

  “My husband and I know a bit about you, because of recent, shall I say notoriety surrounding some past instances this school year.”

  Oh boy. “This has been a very difficult year for us as far as unforeseen circumstances.”

  Sonny held his iPhone so his Mom could see the screen in landscape view. “You have to see this. Mr. McCarty is really good with the knives.”

  At first Nick saw a resigned look on Clarice’s face, then shock, concern, and finally uneasiness in one showing. Nick smiled. He figured that should take care of any further interest in the McCarty household. The video finished, and she patted Sonny on the shoulder.

  “Go show that to your Dad.”

  “C’mon, Jean. You can meet my Dad while I show him the video.”

  Jean glanced at Nick uneasily, as he sensed she was beginning to notice a bit of strangeness. He nodded at her. “Go ahead. I’ll be in to meet Mr. Salvatore in a moment.”

  “That was better than a circus act. Where did you learn to throw knives?”

  “It was something I took an interest in while I was in the service. Jean has a real passion for it, and now that it’s a widely accepted sport, I’ve been teaching her how to throw. She’s a natural.”

  “Were you really in Delta Force? My husband hates pulp fiction, but when he found out you were a bestselling New York Times author of an assassin series, he bought your first one: Diego’s Way. He hated it, but I thought it was interesting.”

  “My assassin series is definitely not for everyone, and yes, I was in Delta.”

  Clarice crossed her arms over chest, leaning back slightly, a classic body language negative. “When Sonny called me about the knife exhibition, he said you’re with the FBI, CIA, and the US Marshals. He said you had two US Marshals at your house tonight. Is all that really true?”

  “Yes. I’m a consultant with all of those entities, and even with our local police department. The two US Marshals are in charge of our Northern California area. They sometimes need an opinion on a case, as do the other agencies mentioned. I have a propensity for languages. I’ve also been all over the world when I was with Delta, and doing research for my novels. It’s not a big deal. I have an active imagination, and real life combat experience. I helped the Department of Justice with a leak problem they had, and it led to my consulting position. I became involved with the CIA during my time in Delta.”

  “Don’t you have to kill me, now that I know your secrets?”

  Nick enjoyed that adlib. “No. I consult only, so I don’t really have to sign any nondisclosure contracts or anything, except during the time I’m consulting on a particular case.”

  A man a couple inches taller than Nick stepped into the room, also wearing jeans, but with a gray t-shirt and loafers. Dark haired, dark eyes, and with an easy smile, Nick couldn’t picture him ever being anything but relaxed. They shook hands.

  “This is my husband, Phil.”

  “Glad to meet you, Phil. I’m Nick McCarty. I see you’ve met Jean.”

  “Nice meeting you too, Nick. If Sonny hadn’t shown me that knife exhibition on video, I wouldn’t have believed it. It must have taken many hours of practice to achieve that level of expertise.”

  “Finally, someone that knows it’s not a magic trick.” Nick grinned. “Yes, it took many, many hours of practice. Jean has taken an interest in the sport.”

  “So she told me. Sonny wants to try it too, but I have concerns. I’ve never pictured throwing knives as a sport. It’s deadly, and throwing them the way you do does almost seem like a magic trick.”

  “Jean and Sonny seem to hit it off well, so I’m sure they can find other interests. I’ll curtail any further demonstrations,” Nick promised. “They worked their homework in solid harmony. That’s a nice start.”

  “For now, I think it would be better for Sonny to stay away from the knife throwing. I’ll give it some consideration though. I read one of your novels.”

  “Clarice said you dislike pulp fiction, and that is what my assassin series amounts to. As I mentioned to her, it’s not for everyone.”

  “Small doubt about that,” Phil agreed. “Wouldn’t you agree though that even pulp fiction should be a bit believable?”

  Nick grinned, knowing each one of Diego’s adventures were based on his real life sanctions; that were both bloodier, and even more violent. “Oh, I don’t know. I read all Edgar Rice Burroughs’ novels like Tarzan of the Apes, and John Carter of Mars. Later, I read many of Robert E Howard’s novels and stories with Conan the Barbarian, Solomon Kane, and El Borak. They’re larger than life pulp fiction type heroes.”

  “Yes, I guess it is a matter of taste.”

  “Exactly,” Nick agreed. “I never hype my novels claiming they’re anything other than pulp fiction. I’m definitely not writing Shakespearean prose.”

  “I see your point. I work for the State Department, so I know it’s impossible for you to belong to all the agencies Sonny told me about. What is it you really do with law enforcement?”

  Nick shrugged. “I answered the question truthfully. You can choose to believe anything you want, Phil. Well, tomorrow’s another day starting early, so Jean and I will off to prepare for our adventures in the morning. Nice meeting all of you.”

  Phil followed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I wanted you to know I’m familiar with what can and cannot be in federal law enforcement.”

  “I’m not offended at all, Phil. As I said, you can believe anything you want. You’re mistaken in my case, but it’s not worth getting into a debate over. Goodnight.”

  “Ah… yes, goodnight.”

  Jean and Sonny exchanged waves as Nick led the way out. In the car, Jean gave Nick the silent treatment. “Okay, what did I do?”

  “You let that Phil guy call you a liar.”

  “He didn’t call me a liar. Phil cloaked it in very considerate language,” Nick replied, grinning over at Jean while he started the car. “What did you want me to do, beat him up?”

  “Yeah… but I see what you mean. You could go back over there with all your ID’s,” Jean suggested, “or have your CIA boss call him. That’ll make his mouth drop open.”

  “There’s something a bit off about Phil. When he mentioned working with the State Department, my alarm bells went off. I don’t know of any State Department jobs on the West Coast. In regard to your suggestion, I’m not doing that. I’d rather you remain friends with Sonny, and stay away from the adult business. I’ve probably already given Phil enough mystery that he’ll be poking around where he shouldn’t as it is.”

  “What happens if he does?”

  “Nothing. He’ll simply find out he can’t access my records at his level. That will be enough for him to drop any further inquiries into my business. He and Clarice seem like real nice people, and I can tell Sonny’s a good kid.”

  “Sonny’s going to join the Marines like me,” Jean said. “He liked my line about getting seasoned in the Corps.”

  “I’ll bet he did.”

  “Did you ever have a best friend w
hen you were a kid?”

  Nick hesitated. He wanted to assure Jean he had lots of friends, but he had never lied to her about anything, and he didn’t plan on starting now. “No. I was a loner. I had buddies in the service I was close to, because our lives depended on it. I never did meet anyone I cared to be around much. Let’s face it, psychos don’t make very good besties. If we need something from you, we’ll pretend to be a bestie until we get it. That’s as close as we come though.”

  “You love Mom and me.”

  “I’m older now, and getting soft in the head.”

  Jean giggled.

  Chapter Seven

  Until Guilty

  Rachel waved from the couch, where she and Tina were watching a movie. She paused the show. “How did the parental meeting go?”

  “Not so good,” Nick admitted.

  “Sonny’s Father called Dad a liar, and he’s still breathing,” Jean inserted, garnering surprised laughter.

  “Gomez,” Tina said. “Are you turning over a new leaf?”

  “Phil didn’t call me a liar in so many words. He… sort of hinted at it. As I tried to explain to the Daughter of Darkness what bothered me were some of the questions both he and Clarice asked, and the fact they moved here from Washington, D.C. He questioned the veracity of my being a consultant for the CIA, FBI, and US Marshals, claiming he worked for the State Department. I think they were going to interrogate me further, but Sonny showed them the video he took of my knife exhibition. I think it dissuaded them from pushing the envelope. I could tell Clarice was shooting over some raised eyebrows at Phil. I think it would be best if Jean and Sonny tryout their friendship without we adults becoming involved. We don’t have to be rude, but we can avoid another interrogation.”

  Rachel jabbed a finger at Nick from over the back of the couch. “I know you. Mr. Salvatore is about to become the subject of intense scrutiny.”

  “Maybe.”

  Tina sighed. “Same old Gomez, different day. Don’t make this Clarice a single Mom until you gather more evidence.”

  When no one spoke, Tina glanced at Nick’s slight smile as he watched her. All frivolity disappeared from her features instantly. “Uh… I may have had one wine too many, Nick. Sorry.”