Big Daddy Sinatra: Charles In Charge (Big Daddy Sinatra Series Book 6)

by Mallory Monroe

  “Get down!” Brent yelled to everybody, and everybody tried to get down.

  But Charles yelled, “God, no!” and tried to get to his wife as the bullets sailed through. He crawled to Jenay as fast as he could, even as she had heeded Brent’s warning and got down, too. But that wasn’t good enough for Charles. He lunged on top of her, covering her entire body, as the glass from the broken window the bullets were coming in from shattered and scattered all over the room and could have caused as much damage to them as the bullets could.

  Brent wasn’t satisfied with ducking down either. He was the police chief of Jericho and he’d be damned if somebody was going to try to assassinate a room filled with people under his watch, and get away with it.

  Certain that his father would take care of his stepmother, he ducked too. But he ducked his way out of the parlor. And then he ran across the foyer, pulling his gun from out of the small of his back.

  The old butler came running out of the kitchen. “What’s happening, Chief?” he nervously asked Brent.

  “Stay down!” Brent ordered, and ran across the foyer and out of the front door.

  Just as he ran out, he could hear the gunshots suddenly stop, and a truck at the bottom of the property pull in a rifle and then began to speed away.

  He cut across the grass, firing at the truck as he ran; attempting with all he had to at least take out a tire to slow the truck down. He fired and he fired and he ran with all of his considerable athletic speed.

  But he was too late. And the truck was too fast. Whomever the perp or perps were, they had gotten away.

  Brent stood there momentarily, attempting to regulate his breathing, but he knew he had to make sure his parents were okay.

  He ran back toward the house, even as he pulled out his cellphone and called in the attack. He gave the dispatcher a description of the truck: an old Chevy pickup. Faded white. With a rifle rack in the back. About a hundred similar trucks were owned in Jericho alone.

  But when he got back inside the house, and back into the parlor, he was met with a different description. The room had been shot up to such a degree that the entire big, floor-to-ceiling picture window that was once the focal point of the room, had been shattered and laid in ruins all across the room. And although his father and stepmother were just getting up and brushing themselves off, Lou had not fared so well. She was still down, and her butler was holding her body.

  Brent hurried over to his folks. “You two okay?” he asked them.

  “We’re okay,” Jenay said, although her entire focus was on Lou.

  “Did you see anything?” Charles asked his son.

  “An old truck sped away. I might have peppered the back cab with bullets, but I couldn’t get the tires. I couldn’t get a license plate either.”

  “Maybe she has cameras.”

  “This antiquated place?” Brent asked. “I doubt it.” But he was staring at Lou too. “Is she dead?” he asked his father.

  Charles nodded. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “They made sure of that.”

  “Just when she was about to tell us the real deal,” Brent said.

  And then Charles placed his arm around Jenay’s waist, and Jenay, still a little shook up, fell into his arms.

  Brent rubbed her back, too, as he looked at the downed matriarch.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Arnie Palmer wasn’t his real name, but he acquired the name because he loved golf so much. Arnie Palmer, they’d say. Like the golfer. But other than the similar name, and the similar interest in a certain sport, there was no comparison between the two.

  He was in Boston. At a bar. And the door to the office above that bar suddenly opened, and one of his men peeped in. “Naughty here to see you, Boss,” he said.

  Arnie continued feeding his face. Ravioli this time. “Send him in,” he said.

  A few seconds later, and the enforcer, Wilk McNaughtry, called Naughty by most, walked in, with the guard closing the door behind him.

  “What are you doing here?” Arnie asked. “Why aren’t you in Jericho?”

  “We’ve got problems, Boss,” Naughty said.

  “What kind of problems?” He continued to eat.

  “The cops arrested Ben and Smitty.”

  “And?”

  “And they apparently told Sinatra about Lou Fontaine.”

  “And?”

  Naughty was surprised that Arnie wasn’t more surprised. “And we had to take her out before she told too much, although we aren’t even sure if she told too much already. We got problems.”

  Arnie continued to eat, waiting to hear more. When more didn’t come, he looked at Naughty. “That’s it?” he asked.

  “That’s it? You’re asking me if that’s it? Ain’t that a fucking ‘nough?”

  Arnie smiled. “That’s nothing! What the fuck I care about some old lady kicking the can and two thugs in jail? Kill’em all, far as I give a shit. They’re just a means to an end. Same as everybody else in that rathole town.”

  But Naughty, Arnie’s second-in-command, was upset. “Mind telling me what the end is, Boss? Because I don’t get it. Mind telling me what the fuck we’re trying to do here?”

  “We ain’t trying to do shit. But what we will do is bring a Sinatra down. That’s what we’re going to do. And when it happens, it’s going to be spectacular. All this bullshit you’re telling me about is just prep work. The prelude to the kiss. All we’re doing now is what we need to do to smoke him out.”

  But Naughty was still confused. “Smoke who out?” he asked. “Big Daddy Sinatra?”

  Arnie smiled again. “Mick Sinatra,” he said. “The king cobra. But the only way to get him out of his hole these days, is to put his beloved big brother in one. And then we’ll have a battle on our hands. But not on his turf. I’m man enough to admit we can’t fight Mick Sinatra on Mick Sinatra’s turf. But here in Maine? In that backward-ass Jericho? We can not only fight him, but we can defeat him.”

  “By killing his brother?” Naughty asked. “Is that how we achieve our goal? By killing Big Daddy Sinatra?”

  “By creating a climate,” Arnie said, “where Big Daddy Sinatra will have no choice but to call in backup. I’m talking gangster backup. I’m talking Mick the Tick backup. But we’ve already got the landscape boobytrapped. We’re already suited up and ready to go, when he hasn’t even made it to the locker room.”

  But Naughty was shaking his head. “But I still don’t get it! I say we just take Big Daddy out. That’ll smoke Mick the Tick out. He’ll come then.”

  Arnie couldn’t believe it. “We kill Mick’s brother, you idiot, and it’ll be total war. What are you nuts? You can’t just walk up and kill Mick the Tick’s brother and expect no Armageddon-style retribution! We have to keep our shit subtle. We have to waterboard his ass. And then, when Micky comes, he’ll think he’s stepping into his brother’s downfall, when he’s really stepping into his own. That’s the beauty of what I’m doing. That’s the beauty of my beautiful mind.”

  But then Arnie’s look became harder. “You just keep doing what I tell you to do, and stop worrying about the blowback. The blowback is essential to the war to come. And after the war, when this is all said and done, I’m not only going to have Mick the Tick’s scalp as my trophy, but I’m going to own Jericho and everything Big Daddy owns as my sweet little side reward too. That’s how win-win this shit is for us. We can’t lose. I’m telling you, Naughty. We can’t lose!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “Tony’s here!”

  Bonita Sinatra hurried to the front door. Her brother Donnie was in the living room laying on the sofa playing a video game on his phone, and her adopted sister Ashley was sitting in a chair texting a friend. It was family dinner night. Bonita opened the front door just as Anthony Sinatra was about to turn the knob.

  “Hey, Tony!” she said happily and reached up to him.

  “There’s the star,” Tony said with a smile on his handsome face and lifted his kid sister up into his arms. “H
ow are you, kid?”

  “I made all A’s,” Bonita said.

  “You got your report card today?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s great Neet,” he said as he closed the front door.

  “Well not all A’s, but all A’s in the classes that count. I got a C in Gym.”

  Tony laughed. “Yup, that’s a Sinatra for you. The hard stuff easy. The easy stuff, like life, hard as hell.”

  “Where’s Miss Sharon?” Bonita asked him.

  “This is a family dinner, remember,” he said. “Not a friends and family dinner. Miss Sharon and I stick to the rules. Where’s Mom and Dad?”

  “Upstairs,” Bonita replied. “It always takes them forever to get ready for anything. Especially Dad. He’s the real diva in this household.”

  Tony laughed, and headed toward the sofa with his sister. When he saw Donnie and Ashley, he shook his head. “The two stooges,” he said. “I should have known.”

  He sat Bonita back on her feet and sat down on what remained of the sofa. He looked at his two younger siblings. “Is this all you’ve got to do?”

  Neither responded. Neither looked away from their phones.

  “Donnie? Ashley?”

  “What?” Donnie asked. He refused to divert his eyes from his game.

  “Don’t you have better things to do than play some stupid game?”

  “No,” Donnie responded.

  Then Tony looked at his sister. “Don’t you have better things to do than to bury your head in that phone?”

  Ashley looked at him. “Like what is your problem, Tony? Don’t you have better things to do than to disturb your fellow man?”

  Donnie laughed. “Tell him, Ash,” he said.

  But Tony wasn’t even smiling anymore. He was staring at his sister. “Neet, why don’t you go in the game room and set up the chess board. I’ll play you one before dinner.”

  Bonita lit up with excitement. “Really, Tony?” She hugged him. “That’s why you’re my most favorite brother in the world!” And she ran to the game room.

  But Tony was still staring at Ashley, who continued to read her texts. “Don’t you have better things to do than to let Jesse Colbert beat on you?” he asked her.

  Donnie stopped playing his game, and looked at Ashley, too. It had been a question on his mind as well, but didn’t know how to broach it.

  But Ashley wasn’t interested in giving details. She ran her hand through her hair, reminding her brothers of just how beautiful she was. “Who in the world told you something like that?”

  “Come on, Ash,” Tony said. “This is Jericho, remember? Jericho, Maine? You can’t keep so much as a fart secret around here.”

  Donnie laughed. “I know that’s right,” he said. Even Ashley grinned.

  “But tell us the story, Ash,” Donnie said. “I heard Dad had to kick his ass. And I heard Jess got arrested to boot!”

  “Only for a couple hours,” Ashley said. “They let him out on bail. And he didn’t beat me up, so whoever told y’all that lie didn’t know what they were talking about. I wasn’t going to stand for some man just wailing on me. Please.”

  “Then what did he do?” Tony asked. “Dad doesn’t make it a habit of going around beating up people for no reason.”

  “He slapped me,” Ashley admitted, “and Dad saw him.”

  Donnie couldn’t believe it. “You mean to tell me that fool slapped you in front of Dad?”

  “As Daddy was leaving,” Ashley said, “but yeah. And fool is right. You know he had the nerve to call me and ask me to bail him out?”

  Donnie laughed. “What? What did you tell him?”

  “I told him to take a fucking hike, what do you think?”

  “What did he say?” Donnie asked.

  “He told me he’ll remember that. Like that’s supposed to scare me. I told him to please remember it, and hung up the gotdamn phone.”

  “Doesn’t sound like love to me,” Donnie said.

  “Love?” Ashley said. “Who said anything about love? I’m Tina Turner. What’s love got to do with it?”

  “Everything, my dear,” Tony said with a smile. “EVERYTHING.”

  But then Jenay came down the stairs, looking gorgeous in a pair of black slacks and a chiffon blouse, Tony thought, and everything about their conversation changed. They’d heard about what happened at the Big House, but they also knew their father had already told them that they both were okay, and that he didn’t want them peppering Jenay with questions about it. But they knew Tony and now Robert, since being elevated to mayor, would bring it up at dinner. They would get their answers then.

  “Hey, Jenay-Nay,” Tony said with a smile. “Don’t you look scrumptious.”

  “Lusting after our stepmother, are we?” Donnie asked with a grin.

  “When did you get here?” Jenay asked Tony.

  “Like a few minutes ago,” Tony said. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Still upstairs.” Jenay hit Donnie’s leg. “Boy, if you don’t get your feet off my couch!”

  Donnie quickly sat up and removed his feet from off of the sofa. “I was just taking a break.”

  “That’s all you do at work,” Jenay said as she headed for the kitchen. “You should be tired of breaks at home too.”

  They all laughed.

  “Very funny, Ma,” Donnie responded. “Very funny.”

  “I’ll check on dinner,” Jenay said as she walked. “Tone, you want anything to drink?”

  “No, I’m good. Thanks.” Then he began heading toward the game room. “I promised Nita a quick chess game before dinner.”

  “That girl and chess,” Jenay said as she shook her head. “She watched this movie called the Queen of Katwe and now fancies herself a grand master someday. Is she that good?”

  “No,” Tony said bluntly. “But it never hurts to dream.”

  Jenay smiled, and went on into the kitchen.

  Several minutes later, Brent and Makayla arrived, along with Junior. Brent went with Junior to the game room, to say hey to his kid sister, while Makayla spoke with Ashley and Donald.

  By the time Brent made it back into the main room, Jenay was entering too. “You two upstairs,” she said. “Dad wants to see you both.”

  Brent and Makayla glanced at each other. They really would rather keep their private life private. But they knew Charles was not the man to stand up. If he wanted them upstairs, they both knew they had to get upstairs. They began heading in that direction.

  Jenay began looking around. “Where’s Junior?” she asked Donnie and Ashley, whose eyes were back focused on their phones.

  “In the game room,” Ashley said. “Brent didn’t give us a chance to see him either.”

  “Is there trouble in paradise, Ma?” Donnie asked, although he didn’t break away from his video game.

  “Is that your business, Donald?” Jenay asked as she began heading for the game room.

  “Everybody has an opinion when it comes to my business,” Ashley said. “What makes Brent and Makayla’s business off limits? Oh, I forgot,” Ashley added, as Jenay, refusing to entertain her nonsense, continued walking, “Brent is Dad’s golden child.”

  “No, Carly is Dad’s golden child,” Donnie corrected her. “Brent is his silver child.”

  And he and Ashley laughed.

  Upstairs, Charles had on his boxers and was just putting on his t-shirt when Brent and Makayla entered his bedroom.

  “Wanted to see us, Dad?” Makayla asked as they entered.

  “Yes,” he said. “Have a seat.”

  Although Makayla walked over and sat on a bed filled with the various clothing items Charles and Jenay had earlier discarded, Brent leaned against the dresser and folded his arms and crossed his ankles. Charles could tell he didn’t want to discuss it, but that was too bad.

  “Where are we in the negotiations?” he asked them as he began putting on his dress shirt.

  Makayla smiled. “I didn’t know there were any,” she said.

/>   “Every compromise is a negotiation,” Charles said. “I’m talking about compromising.” Then he looked from one to the other, surprised. “Have you guys even discussed it?” he asked them.

  Makayla glanced over at Brent. Then she looked at her father-in-law. “No, sir,” she said. “He won’t.”

  Charles frowned. “What do you mean he won’t?” he asked.

  “He won’t discuss it. I told him I’ve agreed to work for Johnson Dash and I’m leaving next week. I told him we’ve got to make some decisions. But he won’t go there.”

  Charles looked at Brent. “This has to be dealt with, Brenton,” he said. “You can’t sweep this under a rug. You have a son who need both of his parents.”

  “I know I have a son, Dad,” Brent said. “And I know he needs his stepmother too. That’s why this is crazy. Why does she have to go all the way to California to begin with?”

  “I’m not going to California,” Makayla said.

  Brent and Charles both looked at her.

  “I told you if you wanted me to stay closer to home, I could. But you didn’t want to hear that either. But after that scene at the house, I called Johnson Dash, and he agreed that I could work out of his Boston office. Which is just a couple hours away. It won’t be easy, but I’ll be willing to commute, Brent.”

  Charles was proud of Makayla. She took that bull by the horns and came up with the solution he already thought was probably going to be their best compromise. But he also knew his son. And when he looked at Brent, he could still see that deep-seated hurt in his eyes. And instead of dealing with it, he did what Brent does: he left the room.

  Now it was Makayla’s time to be offended. “You see what I have to deal with, Dad? He won’t even communicate with me! Why won’t he even talk about it?”

  “Because he feels it’s an affront to him that you would even consider leaving Jericho,” Charles explained to her. “Brent is a different kind of dude, Makayla. He believes you have a plan, you stick to the plan, and life is good. I told him people change their minds. I told him you can’t expect your wife to remain static and content in the same spot. But Brent thought this talk of you wanting more and this need to be in the spotlight was over when you guys agreed to work it out. He doesn’t understand why it should be an issue again.”