by Annie Jocoby
My mind started to turn when she gave me such a weird and evasive answer. “Why not?”
“He doesn’t need to, that’s all.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I need to talk to him.”
“You don’t.”
When she said this, I just decided not to push it. I would meet with Gianni Garancino the first thing the next morning, though. I had a feeling that I finally found her weakness, perhaps her fatal weakness. “Okay. Well, what is it that I need to do right now?”
“Just come out on the terrace and have a meal with me. And hold my hand. That’s all.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess that’s not such a bad thing. That’s kind of crazy, though. I can’t believe how much manipulation goes into the tabloid stories, although I really shouldn’t be.” I smiled, thinking that I effortlessly got into the tabloids myself this past year or so. Charlotte had to work for something that just came to me naturally. That’s the thing about being wealthy and accused of murder - the tabloid attention just comes with the territory.
We went onto the terrace, and ate dinner. Charlotte looked around, and then put her hands out. I put my hand on hers and turned my face away. I didn’t necessarily think that the picture that was going to be in whatever tabloid was hired to do this nonsense should feature me with a face that showed exactly what I was thinking about this stupid woman.
“So,” she said, leaning down. As always, she was wearing a blouse that showed every bit of her assets. Her fingers lightly grazed mine as she stared at me lustfully. I had to suppress the snarl that was threatening to curl my lips. “What is going on with your current criminal case?”
“Jackson is working with the prosecutors. It looks like I’m going to have to be on probation for a few years.” I had to admit that this was an excellent result, but I knew that Jackson would work miracles for me. I was facing a felony charge, but Jackson had told me that I was going to be pleading to a misdemeanor of mishandling a corpse, and would never see the inside of a jail cell. I would have to pay a fine, of course, but that wasn’t a big deal at all. Whatever the fine was, I was going to gladly pay it. I never wanted to think about that case again. After all, this was the case that put this whole sorry scenario into motion. If mom didn’t kill that guy, or if Charlotte wasn’t present when Hugh’s dead body was on the floor, then none of the sorry mess that happened to me would have happened.
Then again, maybe I wouldn’t have met Serena if the circumstances were different. That made all of what I went through worth it to me. 100%.
Charlotte nodded. “That’s a wonderful thing. It really wouldn’t do for you to be behind bars, you know.”
“I know.” I cleared my throat and tried to tackle my food again. I took a deep breath and just stared at Charlotte. There was nothing to say. I had nothing in common with her, and just being in her presence revolted me. I just wanted to get out of there as quickly as I could, but I knew that I couldn’t just yet. After all, there was the matter of the two of us sleeping in the same bed that night.
I could only hope that, if Charlotte and I ended up in the same bed that night, it would the last time that would happen. I was going to get out of this situation as quickly as I could.
And I was starting to find out just how that was going to happen.
That night, as I lay in bed with Charlotte, I finally got the answer that I was maybe looking for. It was a text from Serena. I didn’t want communication with her, not until I knew everything was safe, so I hated that she texted me. Yet, at the same time, I loved it. I craved having communication with her, any kind of communication.
“Slade,” the text began, “I didn’t want to bother you, but Santino Bianchi stopped by my office today. I’ve been thinking about it more and more, and he says that he has information that might help you. Something about a turf war between the Garancinos and the Vichellis. Word is the Vichellis are the more powerful family of the two. Maybe this will help.”
My heart quickened. This immediately started the wheels turning in my head. Charlotte was snoring beside me, and I crept silently out of bed. I went into the adjoining room, which was furnished as an office for Charlotte, and booted up the computer. I pulled up some articles about the Vichellis and the Garancinos, and it was clear to me, after reading the news articles, that Serena was right. If you read between the lines, it was clear that the Vichellis were getting the better of the Garancinos. The Vichellis appeared to control more real estate and more “legitimate” businesses. They also seemed to have a bigger stake in the Vegas casinos. They had more ways to launder their money, and it seemed that they had many more assets than the Garancinos.
Something told me that this just might be the key to solving my living hell.
Chapter 5
Serena
I had to admit that, after I really had a chance to think about Santino’s visit, I started to think about things. Maybe he did have something to tell me. Perhaps his information was going to be relevant. I shouldn’t have dismissed it, and, if I were in a better frame of mind, I probably wouldn’t have. So, I decided to go ahead and call him.
“Miss Serena,” he said as he picked up the phone. “To what do I owe this honor?”
“Santino, I need to talk to you. Can you meet me out somewhere?”
“Come to my restaurant after-hours. I’ll cook you an amazing Italian meal and we can share some wine and some laughs. Break bread together.”
“Okay.” I hesitated, remembering that Santino had hit on me the last time we were alone together. “But Santino…”
“Don’t worry, Miss Serena. I’m a married man now. Well, not married, but I kind of have an old lady now. Maybe she’ll be Mrs. Bianchi one day. So, I only want to meet with you as a plutonic thing.”
I smiled, thinking that he invented a new word – plutonic. Santino tended to get his words mixed up anyhow, as when he used to call the prosecutor a “persecutor.” Then again, maybe that was intentional. Sometimes a prosecutor seems like a persecutor. Probably seemed that way to Santino quite a bit.
“Okay,” I said, “it’ll be platonic. What time can we meet?”
“Seven tonight will be good. I’ll reserve a booth where we can have some privacy.”
“See you then.”
As I got off the phone I wondered if there was any way that Santino might actually give me the opening that I needed to get Slade out of his arrangement with Charlotte. Could it really be as easy as meeting with this mobster? Might he be the missing piece of the puzzle?
I texted Slade, knowing that I was putting myself in danger for doing that. But I had to let him know that there was a trail now that we could follow. This trail might lead us to where we need to go. It might be premature, but if I could put the bug in his ear about Santino’s tip, and I could work independent with Santino on this end, maybe, just maybe, the two ends could meet and we could have a plan worked out. All without explicitly collaborating, because that would just mean that Slade and I would be in danger. Charlotte must never get wind of any of this, of course.
That evening, I met Santino in his restaurant. As usual, it was bustling. He had a piano player that night, and I heard standard after standard while the people in the restaurant cheered. I smiled, because I loved the standards. There was something about forties love songs that were so heartfelt and gorgeous. They made me imagine old movies, where the men wore hats and the leggy women always wore dresses and perpetually had a pout. They were dames, really, in every sense of the word. Dames in that they were classic, and dames because that’s what the wise-guys called them. There were times that I wished that I could have lived in that era, and there was a part of me that felt like maybe I did. Indeed, I had dreams about living in that era, which made me think that there was a part of my soul that had lived back then, and I was reincarnated into the person that I was right now. And I would reincarnated again once I shuffled off this mortal coil.
The piano player started playing Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, and I swayed
deftly to the music. Santino, for his part, was bustling around, giving me signals that he would be with me as soon as he could make some time. I wasn’t necessarily in a hurry, though. I mean, I was, because I was so anxious to hear what Santino had to say. At the same time, however, I was enjoying myself. I was enjoying listening to the music and I was enjoying watching the crowd. My stomach was rumbling, though, and I knew that I was soon going to have to eat.
Santino finally broke away. “Sorry Miss Serena,” he said, “things just got really busy and I had to pitch in with the wait staff.” He shook his head. “Somebody called in sick, so I fear that this little dinner is going to have to be a short one. But follow me over to that booth.” He pointed at a booth at the far end of the restaurant. It was in a station that was closed off to the public, so I knew that we wouldn’t be interrupted.
“Thanks,” I said, following him over.
We sat down and Santino snapped his fingers. A waitress came over, and we ordered. I just got spaghetti with marinara sauce, as that was really the only thing that I could eat on the menu, and Santino ordered lasagna. “And garlic bread made with olive oil,” he said, winking at me. “Right Serena? You can’t have butter.” He nodded, as if he was proud to have remembered that I didn’t consume animal products.
“Very good,” I said to Santino. “You have a good memory.”
“Of course I do. I mean, I might be a goombah, but I try to always remember certain things about the ladies.” He lowered his voice. “That’s what gets them more than anything, you know. To know stuff about them. Act concerned. At least, that’s how my momma always taught me.”
I had to laugh a little bit at that one. I wondered what Santino’s momma looked like. I had the stereotypical Italian woman in my head, although I had no idea if it was accurate or not. I imagined her to be busty and big, with black hair with grey stripes throughout. Heavy eyebrows and a large nose. I pictured her standing over a pot of spaghetti, literally stirring the pot. I wondered how on the money I was.
Santino seemed to read my mind, which amused me, because usually I was the one reading minds. “Here’s my momma,” he said, bringing out his wallet.
I was impressed, for his momma looked nothing like I would have pictured her. She was a petite woman, maybe 100 lbs, with fair skin and green eyes. Her hair was black, although there wasn’t a grey stripe through it. She didn’t look very old, and I wondered if this was an old picture.
“She’s pretty,” I said, looking at her. “When was this picture taken?”
“Just two years ago.” He looked proud. “My momma tries to keep in shape. It’s hard for her, though, because she does love her pasta.”
“Is she from the old country?”
“She is. So is my pops. And Joey.” He smiled. “But I’m sure that you didn’t meet me here to hear all about my family tree. You want to know what I know about the Garancinos.”
“I do.” I leaned forward, and the waitress came around and brought our bread. Santino looked at me and pointed.
“You want some wine?”
I shook my head. I felt like this was almost a business dinner, so I didn’t necessarily know if drinking wine was such a good idea. “I’m driving.”
“I’ll call you a limo to take you home.”
“No, really, that’s okay.” I cleared my throat. “I’d just like a water.”
Santino shook his head. “Okay. Well, I’ll be drinking wine. I hope that you don’t mind that.”
“Of course not.”
He ordered a glass of Chianti, and some more water for me. “Okay, then, Miss Serena, let’s get down to business here. Like I said in your office, I know about what’s going on with Carlotta and Slade. And, Miss Serena, I really think that you deserve to be happy a little. So I’d like to help.”
I leaned forward again and played with a napkin. “Santino, I really appreciate you meeting me here. I know that you’re sticking your neck out to come and talk to me like this, so I wanted you to know that it’s not going unnoticed.”
“Of course Miss Serena.” It was his turn to lean down. “Okay, well, here’s what’s going on. There’s a deal going down involving some white powder coming up from Mexico. Maybe the people in Mexico want to sell the stuff to the Garancinos in exchange for some high-powered arms. The Garancinos are armed to the teeth, let me tell you what. But maybe Vincent Vichelli wants to try to stop that deal from going through.” Santino looked around the restaurant. “Maybe this deal is such a high-level deal that it’s going to change the nature of the game, if you know what I mean. The Garancinos need to control a few more assets around this town and around Vegas in order for them to get the jump on Vincent and his team.”
I nodded my head. I wondered where this was going, and if I could use it to get Slade out of this whole mess. “Go on.”
“Maybe that little number Carlotta is trying to screw with this whole thing.” His voice got low. “She hates her father. Bet you didn’t know that. Her father got Michael Garancino killed. You know, Carlotta’s uncle. Word is she’s trying to change that Mexican dealer’s mind. Name’s Miguel Sanchez. She’s using her assets to double-cross her own dad so that Miguel puts the deal through with the Vichellis, not with the Garancinos.”
My heart quickened. “Her…”
“Her own father will have her killed if he knew what was going on there. There’s your ace in the hole.”
I pondered Santino’s words. Her own father would have her killed if he knew what was going on there. “How does Gianni Garancino not know all this?”
“Blind spot. He’s nave when it comes to Carlotta, you know?”
I suppressed a smile when Santino used the word “nave,” when he clearly meant “naïve.” There was a little bit of Archie Bunker in this guy sometimes. “So, how do I make him believe that she’s screwing him like this?”
Santino sat back and I closed my eyes. I had to tune into his vibrations to see if Santino was pulling a fast one on me. Not that he would have a reason to do so, but one just never knows. I couldn’t believe this information was falling into my lap, and I just didn’t trust it. But I didn’t feel any deception coming from him, so I calmly decided just to let him continue. Inside, though, my mind was turning. “What do you suggest?”
Santino shook his head. “There’s no love lost between Gianni and Carlotta. It probably wouldn’t take much for Slade to convince him that Carlotta is a rat.”
I took a deep breath, and then took a sip of my water. Inside, my stomach was rumbling and I felt like I was going to be sick. I didn’t know why I felt that way, except that this information was settling in. I should have been elated, though, not feeling nauseated.
Maybe I was feeling sick because I suddenly saw what a dangerous game was about to be opened up. Playing Slade against Charlotte, with Gianni Garancino in the middle? And getting a Mexican drug dealer involved with it all? What, Slade was just supposed to put a bug in Gianni’s ear about Charlotte double-crossing him, and all was supposed to be well? And what kind of proof was going to be needed about this whole thing? What was Charlotte giving this Miguel dude to go over to the Vichellis? There were so many unanswered questions, and I just had to wait for the answers. But I was growing impatient waiting, even though the conversation was moving along at a lightning-quick speed.
“I don’t understand,” I finally said to Santino. Although I was getting any deception vibrations from him, that didn’t mean that he didn’t mean this whole thing wasn’t bullshit. He might honestly believe it to be true. Santino wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, after all. “Why would this Miguel listen to Charlotte?”
“Sanchez has all the cards here. Word is that his drug shipment is one of the biggest ever. No shit. And he’s evenly split between who he’s going to deal with. Whoever gets it gets the whole enchilada, you know what I mean? One family after another has tried to deal with him, and he’s down to the Garancinos and the Vichellis. And he don’t know who he’ll go with. So, Carlotta is
trying some extra persuasion to get him to make the right choice. The Vichellis.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Santino, I guess I don’t understand why you’re talking to me about this. If I do something, and the drugs go to the Garancinos because of my actions, you don’t get anything out of this. Right?”
Santino, to my surprise, shrugged. “ I’d really like to get that little Carlotta bitch myself.” He raised his own eyebrows. “She killed my teacher.” Then he lowered his eyes, and, to my surprise, I saw tears. “My teacher who was also my first love.”
I put my hand on his and closed my eyes. Grief was pouring out of him and was flooding me. Santino was telling the truth about this, but still…it seemed like this was a dangerous game for him too. If Vincent Vichelli found out that Santino was meddling in this huge transaction, in an attempt to tip it to the Garancinos…I shuddered to think what might happen to him. One thing was for sure, I was going to have to tread lightly on this one. Perhaps was I was a little hasty in naming Santino in my text to Slade. Not that Slade would give up Santino in this whole mess. But he was going to have to say where he got this information for it to be credible.
So many layers to think about on this one. I honestly had no idea where to start. “I’m very sorry to hear about your teacher,” I said to him softly. “I know what it’s like to lose the person you love.”
He shook his head. “You lost Slade I guess, but that’s not the same. You’ll get him back. I can never do the same with Rachel.”
Rachel? That wasn’t the name of the person who Charlotte was named as killing. That must have meant that she killed another teacher, a different one. I shook my head. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I kinda was. Charlotte was proving to be even more of a psycho than I already thought. “I lost Slade, but you’re right. There’s hope for us. But I did lose my mother violently.” I told Santino the story of my mother at that fateful McDonald’s, and he listened and shook his head.