Bloody Shadows

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “I can’t stand the sight of that bitch, but I know she would never do something like this,” Rachel said. “I feel bad for Sonny though. What the heck would this Cameron guy want? Those two high society parasites are hocked up to their eyeballs. Your Dad still pays for their country club membership.”

  “You do?” Jean looked at Nick as if he had a third eye. “What the hell’s wrong with you Nicky pooh? Those tarantulas have always treated you and Mom like shit.”

  “Because Dad’s not like them, and he likes Sonny,” Quinn said. “Besides, Dad, Uncle Gus, and Uncle John have enough money to buy a small country, and yet they live like paupers, so he might as well do good deeds.”

  “That’s enough bad mouthin’ the Unholy Trio, kid,” Gus replied. “We’ve went all over the world and this country, into one adventure or another, always with first class accommodations. Isn’t that right, Brother Kabong?”

  “Yes, Brother Payaso,” John agreed. “This disrespect of our conservative ways is most unappreciated.”

  “Sonny made peace with his folks a long time ago. He can deal with anything we do to help them out,” Nick said. “Although we live conservatively as John states, we’ve done plenty, and raised you two ingrates pretty well. Your Mom’s right. Although I’m paying their way in a couple of things, I don’t like Phil and Clarice, but it made things easier on Sonny, and I’m not the only one who likes him. We all do. As you pointed out, Jean, the kid practically lived here. The Unholy Trio coached everyone’s sports choices growing up too, including some like lacrosse none of us knew anything about. Let’s keep focused on bringing life here in our home base back to normal. You’re on again, Jean. What is it Cameron wants from Clarice?”

  “That’s the tricky part, Dad. He wants their enemies list database.”

  Nick poured another drink and sipped it. “Damn. That answers a lot of questions I’ve had over the years. I guess what goes around actually does come around. They’ve been blackmailing people with secret files Phil accumulated from what source?”

  “Clarice admitted they’ve bugged many parties in DC, and they’re really good at it. Other sources include Phil’s having access to all travel plans through his work in the passport bureau for all those years before he was elected to Congress. He paid to have any suspected trips made by potential congressional leaders monitored. She says they have a larger database than Hillary Clinton’s nine hundred FBI files.”

  “We need to all be in agreement on this. I want the database, and I want those two knowing I’ll have the ‘Sword of Damocles’ hanging over their heads if I even suspect they’re using a copy on someone.”

  “That’s the only way I told Clarice I would even take this to you,” Jean said. “She hated that, because it would mean letting Phil know what happened. Plus, of course, she probably saw a few of their plans go out the window. I see it in your eyes, Mom. You want to know if she played the outrage card, right?”

  “Yep. I know that bitch. Tell Momma what she said.”

  Jean cleared her throat comically, and launched into her incredibly good Clarice imitation she had perfected over the years with the slight Boston high class drawl. Coupled with her perfect mimic of Clarice’s facial tics, it was an entertaining delivery. “Really, Jean? You’re speaking of blackmailing me to obtain your help, dear? I…I’m the victim here. Can we not work together to fix this despicable crime against me without a hidden agenda on your part? You’ve been like a daughter to Phil and I.”

  Momma went off again while the others were enjoying Jean’s show. Back went the hair, buttons undone, and shirttail out once again. “Oh…oh no she didn’t! She did not play the ‘like a daughter’ card! Momma gonna’ fry her grits for that one. Momma gonna’ bitch slap her so hard, it’ll kill Snow White and all seven of her dwarfs. War has been declared!”

  Nick fronted Rachel with calming motions as the outburst amused everyone else. “Easy Momma. Jean hasn’t told us what she said in answer to Clarice. We need the rest of the story. We’ll get to the retribution part after we solve this dilemma.”

  Rachel took a deep breath and pointed at Nick. “Listen to me closely, Nicky Pooh. If you ever pay another country club fee for those two dead beat hustlers, you’d best learn to sleep with one eye open cause Momma gonna’ tuck you in without some of your parts.”

  Nick hugged her to him. “Done deal. That damn ‘like a daughter’ shot killed the country club golden goose. Now sit down with me, and let’s hear the rest of the story.”

  Nick refreshed their drinks. Although he enjoyed the hell out of the interaction between Rachel and Jean, he would not touch the case without Jean’s assurance they would be relieving the Salvatores of their enemies database. “Go on, Jean.”

  Jean patted her Mom’s shoulder. “I told Clarice if Sonny wasn’t her son, I would break every bone in her face for saying that. Then I told her we would have the database and all copies or she could kiss my ass. Then I walked out, telling her to call me if she decides to abide by my terms in writing, including a confession to creating the enemies database in the first place as my insurance.”

  Jean grinned as Rachel pumped her fist. “That’s not all. She has to read the statement and sign it while on a digital recording. I thought Clarice was going to have a stroke. She was still gasping for air when I left. Phil called me today. He told me they agree to the terms, but he was disappointed in me. I told Phil he could shove his disappointment up his ass, and one more phrase like that and I’d help Cameron bury him.”

  Jean was soaking up the laughs she garnered from her audience until she saw her Dad’s eyes. The killing beast she knew to be lurking only slightly below the surface still warred for control of her affable Father. She knew in an instant what solution crossed his mind about ending an enemies database and the people who created it. The solution would have nothing to do with extricating Phil and Clarice from anything other than life. “Don’t think about it, Dad! I’m serious. This is just business. You know how Phil is.”

  “Yeah… I know how Phil is.” The silence after the statement ended the light hearted moment.

  “They’re Sonny’s Dad and Mom, Muerto,” Gus said quietly.

  “He’s a great kid,” John added.

  Nick breathed in deeply as Rachel gripped his hand with a smile. “I know. If we’re doing this we have to have Sonny on board even if it’s for no other reason than to keep me from slitting his parents’ throats. We need him on the inside of the Salvatore home. Otherwise those flakes will find some way to screw us. If that’s a problem Jean, then we need to bail on this now.”

  “Okay, Dad. I’ll call him tomorrow. Do you have some thoughts on how we proceed?”

  “Yep. We find the boy in the movie first. Once we have the kid safely in our custody, we go after the film crew. We’re going to make it so Douglas Cameron couldn’t run for dog catcher even with the enemies database. We’ll start fresh in the morning after we talk to Sonny. Then we find that boy.”

  “I’ll go over the film tonight,” Quinn said. “I may be able to get a line on the crew that did the filming by comparing their work on a broad scale spectrum.

  Just then, a little white ball of fur with a huge head peeked into the room with a curious bark. Nick patted his leg. “C’mon, Sam, you can come in now.”

  The puppy ran full speed and leaped into Nick’s lap, standing on his hind legs with forepaws on the table, looking around at the others as if he were calling a meeting into session.

  “It’s time for the chairman of the board to walk down to the beach. Want to accompany us, Momma?”

  Rachel patted the dog’s head. “Sure. You know if Sam’s body ever grows into proportion to his head, he’s going to be about twice Deke’s size.”

  “Yep, I know. I couldn’t leave the bugger wandering around on the street though.”

  “Well let’s get walkin’. Momma gonna need her sex slave tonight.”

  “Eeeeeeuuuuuhhhhh…” Jean was up dancing around making gagging noise
s while the others laughed. “I swear, Mom. Damn it! You say stuff like that just to see if you can make my head explode.”

  “Yeah… so what’s your point?”

  * * *

  Sonny Salvatore stared out the window on the McCarty deck. He spent many times visiting on the deck doing homework with Jean while her Dad wrote on his laptop, and her Mom played with Quinn. He knew Nick was a killer on a level unmeasurable by normal or combat standards. Early on, Sonny recognized this was no normal household with parents, kids, and dog. He visited the McCartys every chance he got. Sonny knew parents weren’t perfect. His folks were the poster people for that phrase, but on top of the lies Sonny knew down deep he was simply a prop for whatever new scheme his parents cooked up. When he was with Jean and her family, they treated him like one of the family. He wasn’t the only one either. Many people without blood connection were members of the McCarty family. Over the years, Sonny became Quinn’s older brother, but never a brother to Jean. He loved Jean with an intensity that still made him ache. They fought, broke up, and made up so many times he had lost track. They were like oil and water. That she thought he would care about her facial scars still pissed him off. He glanced back at her as she sat next to Nick and Quinn, noticing for the first time the other members of their motley crew were watching him with smiling faces.

  “We can’t pick our parents, Sonny,” Gus said.

  “I was raised by wolves,” Sonny declared, drawing laughter from everyone at his line from a McCarty favorite movie: the old Val Kilmer movie titled ‘Spartan’.

  “Did you think of anything useful?” Jean dug right in.

  “I did. These political action committees have video companies they rely on all the time. My folks have one they trust as does every politician. When they need an event filmed for their own propaganda, they must trust the company not to leak embarrassing footage, stills, or scenes that put them in a bad light with the public. If their video people can be bought, they’re screwed. If Cameron is behind this, the film crew he uses is the only one he would ever trust with something containing a young kid. Cameron would never figure my Mom would call you bunch of pirates. Big error. My Mom would call the Devil himself if she had his number.”

  “She did, and she does,” John joked.

  “Ha… ha… thanks, Kabong.” Nick smiled at the humorous appreciation John’s remark garnered. It wasn’t the first time he’d been called the Devil. “Good input, Sonny. We’ll go at it your way because I’m having no luck with recognition software, or even overseas databases, for getting a line on the boy. I’m hoping he’s still alive.”

  “One problem is these people make their money keeping secrets. They won’t give up Cameron or help in any way,” Sonny added.

  “Sure they will,” Nick replied.

  * * *

  Sonny and Jean walked Sam down to the beach together. “I’m glad you called me.”

  “Dad made me. He wouldn’t agree to help without what you could find out when you visit your folks. I know you don’t live with them, but you can visit and feel them out so we don’t get blindsided. You’ve been able to tell when they’re lyin’ since we were kids.”

  Sonny kept silent, and Jean knew she’d hurt him. He was nearly as tall as Quinn’s six foot, four inch height, but leaner. When his jaw tightened, she could see it even with only moonlight. She changed Sam’s leash over to her other hand, and grasped Sonny’s.

  “Sorry, Tyson. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I wanted to call you.”

  Sonny nodded. “We’re always like that now, poking each other the wrong way every time we speak.”

  Jean stopped. She grabbed his jacket front, looking up into his face. “Maybe we shouldn’t speak then.”

  The next few moments were a torrid reuniting of a man and woman who ached to be with each other, but let conflicting personalities blind them. Sam let out a squeak bark to let them know he was there. Jean broke away with a gasp.

  “Damn… I’ve missed you. My Mom called me a scarred up little turd, and I should be thankful you give me a second look. She’s right in a way. I screwed up, and went against my Dad’s orders. I paid the price and got cut. Since then I’ve been a bitch just like Mom said.”

  Sonny hugged her tightly. “I love you more than anything in the world you scarred up little turd.”

  It took Sam wrapping the two in his leash and growling to break up the two humans a second time. They resumed the walk.

  “I know I shouldn’t ask, but what did your Dad mean when he said ‘Sure they will’?”

  Jean giggled, clutching Sonny’s arm, and leaning into him. “It means when he researches the film company you suggested he find tied to Cameron, he’ll find the most likely tool, and question him or her. They’ll tell him where he can find the boy.”

  “I’m beginning to see a cold dark picture forming of that explanation.”

  Jean shrugged. “We’re Marines, and we’re both killers. Compared to Dad though, we’re what they call Snow Whites. Don’t worry about that part. The Unholy Trio doesn’t have any Snow Whites amongst them. Tyson… where are you staying tonight?”

  “At my apartment… with you I pray to God.”

  “I believe I can answer that prayer for him.”

  * * *

  The two men walked out of their studio, arguing about the lateness of the hour, their project timetable, and how they could blame someone else for it. When they reached their vehicle in the underground parking garage, they continued the rant until the sliding door opened on the van next to them. Three masked figures surrounded them, one with a hideous clown mask. One with a black mask aimed a large barreled automatic at them before addressing them in a synthesized voice.

  “Get in the van, or I shoot your dicks off. Want a demo?”

  The two men scrambled into the van. A driver separated from them by a black curtain drove away while they were restrained with plastic ties and duct tape over their mouths until they exited the parking garage. The van stayed in motion for fifteen minutes before slowing to a stop, and its hybrid engine shut off. The men’s duct tape gags were removed.

  “You…you’re the Unholy Trio! We…we’re just movie guys, El Muerto!”

  “I’m glad you know of us. Then you also know what we’re capable of when we don’t get what we want,” Nick said. “I know you did an extortion movie for Douglas Cameron with Clarice Salvatore drugged with a young teenage boy. I want to know where that boy is. My associate, Payaso, will then film you two weasels taking us through the whole operation from when Cameron asked for it to be done, all the way through to its blackmailing end.”

  Silence. Terrified silence, but silence.

  “Uh oh. What we have here is a failure to communicate. El Kabong, my brother, flip a coin to see which one of these gentlemen gets to have his intestines washed in bleach so his friend can be motivated.” By the time Nick got his scalpel out, and John flipped the coin, the two men were screaming to talk.

  “Silence! Usually I go ahead with the demo once I get stone-walled. I’ll give you two one more chance. Payaso will film you two. Leave nothing out. If you make us happy I will take you both back to the parking garage. If my brother, El Kabong, doesn’t receive confirmation of the boy’s whereabouts, the coin flip will be for real and unstoppable. I have minions ready to do my bidding. We know the boy is being held locally in DC if he is still alive. I hope for your sakes he is alive.”

  “He is, Muerto! He is!”

  “Good. Begin. As I stated, leave out nothing.”

  * * *

  Two huge black masked figures, and a smaller slender one entered the DC crack-house with silent care. They looked around the inside pit of hell, filled with the lost, the desperate, and the damned. The two guards who had been sleeping on chairs at the entrance woke and reached for their weapons. In seconds, they were thrown to the floor, gagged and restrained by the two larger figures. Jean kept watch with weapon at the ready.

  “What now, Viper?”

>   “Dad would close his eyes, pretend he was the old ‘Mentalist’, and lead us straight to the kid. This place is activating my barf reflex. When I get queasy, I get violent. I say turn on all the lights, and start beating our way to the kid and shoot anything with a weapon. That would get me yelled at when we got back. Watch our six, Cracker, while Kong and I question one of the guards.”

  “How did I get a tag like Cracker exactly,” Sonny asked while guarding their front.

  “You were born into it. Kong here got his name from a childhood memory of my Mom’s making. Now shut up and watch our six or I’ll change your tag to Snow White.”

  Quinn chuckled, gripped one of the guards, and lifted him to a chair as if he were a bag of potato chips. Jean did knife tricks in front of the man’s eyes while Quinn removed the duct tape over his mouth. He then held up his phone with a still of the boy in front of the guard. Jean jabbed the point of her blade a quarter inch deep in the man’s neck.

  “Where’s the boy in the picture?” Jean removed the tip from his neck.

  “Second…second door on the right… upstairs.”

  Quinn covered his mouth again.

  “Stay here, Kong while Cracker and I check on the boy.”

  “Yell if you need me.”

  “I will. You watch your back down here, kid. If something happens to you, the Momster will slice and dice me.”

  “I’ll be here when you return, Sis.”

  Sonny followed Jean’s lead. As they passed the first room on the right, a dark figure stumbled out with a garbled yell. Jean pistol whipped him to his knees and kicked him in the face. Sonny side kicked the next one at the doorway, sending him crashing all the way to the far wall. Sonny slammed the door shut, and Jean went on to the second room. She and Sonny positioned themselves on each side of the door. Jean then twisted the knob and pushed on the door. A shotgun blast tore a huge hole in the wall opposite the room. Sonny went in left and Jean right. The man with the shotgun hesitated. He was double tapped from both sides, his head a bloody mess as he dropped, shotgun clattering to the floor. A boy sat on two piled mattresses on the floor. He looked up at Jean with only mild interest.