Mob Boss Eleven- The Wrong One (The Mob Boss Series Book 11)

by Mallory Monroe

Reno took both hands and rubbed his face. He needed a shave, his eyes were bloodshot, and his hair looked as if it had never seen a comb. But he actually seemed upbeat.

  “How’s Tree?” Tommy asked him.

  He nodded. “She’s going to be okay. Her parents are there with her now. I’m arranging for her to be transported here tomorrow morning.”

  They were all thrilled. “That’s great, Pop!” Jimmy said happily.

  “As early as tomorrow?” Gemma asked equally happily.

  “Yep,” Reno responded. “She’s progressing really well. Better than those doctors thought she would. I’m proud of her.”

  “I take it you’re going to hire nothing but the best doctors and nurses for her aftercare here,” Tommy said.

  “I’ve already hired them,” Reno responded. “They’re flying in as we speak. It’s amazing what those doctors will do if the price is right.”

  “And I’m sure the price was right,” Sal said.

  “Oh yeah. Bob Barker ain’t got nothing on me.”

  They laughed.

  Reno ran the back of his hand over his eyes. “So I take it,” he said, “that I’ve been the topic of this conversation today.”

  “The main topic,” Tommy said. “All of our people have been turning up zero. Trina may be making great progress, but we aren’t.”

  Reno pulled out his phone and handed it to Tommy. “What’s this?” Tommy asked.

  “The video,” Reno said.

  “Of that night?” Sal asked, shocked. “I thought the cops had that locked up?”

  “They did,” Reno said. He got up and headed for the bar.

  “So how did you get it?” Sal was floored. “None of our people could get it. I thought the cops had it hermetically sealed and shit. I thought they had it locked up in a fucking vault.”

  “I unlocked it,” Reno responded.

  “When?” Sal wanted to know. “We thought you were at the hospital still.”

  “That’s what you get for thinking,” Reno responded.

  “Ah, fuck you,” Sal said as he and Jimmy sat on either side of Tommy. Sal didn’t like Reno, but he damn sure respected him.

  “I’ll get you a drink, Ree,” Gemma said as she hurried behind the bar. “What would you like? Wine? Sherry? Gin and Tonic?”

  “A beer,” Reno said as he sat on one of the bar stools. “I feel like a cold beer and a cold shower.”

  “Beer first,” Gemma said and proceeded to pour him up a glass. “And then you can take your shower.”

  “Fucking pricks,” Sal said as they watched the video. They saw one of the men arguing with Trina. And then Trina stood up. Then the men in black pulled out weapons and all hell broke loose. They all flinched as Trina was hit repeatedly.

  Tommy looked up at Reno. “You saw this?” he asked him.

  Reno’s jaw tightened. It still took all he had to contain his fury. “I saw it.”

  “So where do we begin?” Tommy asked.

  Reno took a swig of his beer. Then he wiped his mouth. “Everywhere,” he said.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The back door of a local row house flew open and Denny Dunston, the manager at Scrolls, was on the run. Jimmy ran out behind him, and then Reno and Sal behind them, but Denny proved a fast and elusive target.

  Jimmy was fast too, and he tried with all he had to close in as they ran behind row houses, a pool hall, and through alley after alley, but Denny remained out of his grasp. Until he ran through yet another alley, and Jimmy got an assist.

  At the end of the alley, just when Denny seemed to have a second wind and was about to run out of the alley and across a busy street, a big Bentley slung in front of the exit and slammed on brakes. Jimmy saw that it was his father’s car, and that his Uncle Tommy was driving it. But when Tommy got out of the car looking more like a Ralph Lauren runway model than a gangster, with his blondish-brown hair perfectly wind-blown just like the male models in the commercials, Jimmy was certain that the fast-moving Denny Dunston was all but assured to get away.

  But his certainty was wrong. Denny slid over the trunk of the Bentley and was about to jump down and make that final run for it, but Tommy grabbed him and flung him back across the trunk with so much force that Denny lost all balance and landed right into Jimmy’s arms. Reno and Sal arrived too, both winded, but not so overcome that they couldn’t handle their business.

  Jimmy handed him over.

  Sal threw Denny against the brick wall of the alley and held his arm at his throat as Reno walked up to their target. Tommy pulled a thick, steel pipe out of the trunk of the car and, as smoothly as Tommy knew how to do, slid his lean body over the trunk of the car too, and entered the alley. He ordered Jimmy to stand guard, although Jimmy thought the car hid enough of the alley to provide the perfect shield for their activities. But he never argued with his Uncle Tommy. Of all the Gabrini men, Tommy was the least bombastic and furious, but he was also the one Jimmy least enjoyed butting heads with. Tommy had that way about him that made Jimmy feel as if he wouldn’t get him on the spot, but later, while he was sleeping, he’d get him then. Reno and Sal were always out front dishing their dirt. Tommy would let his dirt fester until, when he decided to strike, he was dishing mud.

  So Jimmy stood at the mouth of the alley and watched his father and his uncles do their thing. And they were a sight to see: three businessmen in business suits who looked as if they would be better suited at an Opera than some alley that smelled like piss. And as he stood there watching, he realized how much he loved and admired those three men. They weren’t evil men. They weren’t men who picked fights with weaker people just because they could. But they never backed down. Not ever. They didn’t care who, what, when or where. Especially his father, who never played when it came to somebody harming his family, as he got all up in Denny’s grill.

  “I want you to take this opportunity to clear yourself,” Reno said to the nervous and winded young man.

  “Clear myself for what?” Denny responded. “I didn’t do anything!”

  “Wrong answer,” Reno said. “But I’m going to give you another chance.”

  “But I didn’t do anything!”

  “Cut the bullshit, Denny D! What do you think we’re fucking idiots here? You think we decided to track your ass down because we didn’t have anything else to do?”

  “But I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “That’s why you ran, right?” Sal asked him as he tightened his grip around Denny’s neck. Denny gritted his yellow teeth in pain and tried to remove Sal’s arm. But even Jimmy knew the guy was wasting his time. Uncle Sal had biceps of steel. That arm was unmovable. “Is that what you expect us to believe?” Sal added, tightening his grip even more. “You think we actually believe that you ran as soon as you saw our fucking faces just for the hell of it?”

  But Denny was still in denial. “I ran because I knew y’all were mad about what happened at the club. But we had nothing to do with that. I had nothing to do with that!”

  “We saw the list,” Tommy said.

  Denny looked at Tommy. Compared to the other two, Tommy looked like he could be the voice of reason for Denny. But he still played dumb. “What list?” he asked.

  “The VIP list,” Tommy said. “You must have a reservation to sit in the VIP section at Scrolls.”

  “So what?”

  “So what, dickhead,” Reno responded, “everybody’s accounted for. Every person who sat VIP that night was on that list. Everybody except the two men who tried to ice my wife.”

  “You’re the only one who records the VIP reservations,” Tommy reminded Denny. “You’re the only one who handles that at Scrolls. We checked. We’re very thorough. So tell us why it is that you recorded every table in the VIP section the way you always do every night, except that night. And your error only accrued to the one table in particular. The assassin’s table. Why is that, Mr. Dunston?”

  “I didn’t,” Denny started. “I couldn’t. . .”

>   “You didn’t, you couldn’t what?” Reno asked.

  “He told me not to.”

  Now they were getting somewhere, Reno thought. “Who told you not to?”

  “This guy. He came to the club earlier that day and asked me if any Gabrini had a reservation there.”

  Tommy frowned. “Any Gabrini?”

  “Any Gabrini,” Denny responded. Tommy and Reno looked at each other. “When I told him to get lost, he told me he’d throw me a thousand dollars to check. I checked. Then he told me he wanted to reserve the table closest to them. When I told him all of the tables close to them were already booked, he said he’d pay me a thousand more to change the reservation of the party with the table nearest to the Gabrini table.”

  “And he told you not to put a name on the reservation?” Tommy asked.

  “No. He didn’t give me a name. So I left it blank.”

  “And he paid you on the spot?” Tommy asked.

  “One thousand, yes. But I had to go and collect the other thousand only after the Gabrinis showed up and sat at that table. Then I went and got paid.”

  “So you left the club and went and met the guy?” Tommy asked.

  “Yeah. I wasn’t even there when that shit went down. I didn’t know they were planning anything like that.”

  “Bullshit!” Reno blared. “What the fuck do you think they were planning? He told you to put his people next to the Gabrini people and he’d give you two grand. What do you think they wanted? A fucking autograph?”

  “No, but, I didn’t think they’d try to kill anybody!”

  “What’s the guy’s name?”

  “What?” Denny asked.

  “Give us the name of the guy and give it to us right now.”

  “But I don’t know his name!”

  “More bullshit!” Reno said, and Sal tightened his grip.

  Denny struggled to breathe. “Joe,” he finally said between breaths. “Joe Nathan.”

  “And where can we find Mr. Nathan?” Tommy asked.

  Sal automatically tightened his grip again, and Denny gave up. “On Bledsoe. A green four-unit complex. His apartment is on the top floor. The one on the right.”

  Sal finally removed his arm. Denny bent over hyperventilating.

  “If you’re lying,” Sal said to him, “we will hunt you down and you will die.”

  Denny nodded. “I understand,” he said, and began to hurry away.

  But Reno grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. He frowned. “Where the fuck you think you’re going?” he asked him.

  Denny looked at Sal and then at Tommy. Then he looked at Reno. “I understand I’m not to tell.”

  “You facilitated those fuckers who tried to kill my wife. And you think I’m going to stand here and just let you leave?” Reno took the steel pipe from Tommy’s hand.

  “But I told you I didn’t know they were going to do anything like that!” Denny cried. “I didn’t know it was going to be your wife!”

  “But it was my wife!” Reno blared. “Who the fuck cares what you knew? You facilitated it. You participated in it. You allowed those killers to get next to my wife so they could take her out. You knew something was going down. You knew it! And you think I’m going to let you get away with that?”

  “Please, Mr. Gabrini!”

  “Don’t please me! I can’t let you get away with that. You will not be getting out of here alive.”

  Denny fell to his knees. “Oh, please,” he begged. “Please let me live, Mr. Gabrini. Please let me live!”

  Reno took the pipe and rammed it against Denny’s face, taking him completely down and a chunk of the side of his face with him. The blood gushed out like rain. Then Reno got busy. He took that pipe and beat on Denny Dunston until he broke his arm. Then he broke his other arm. The more he thought about what happened to his wife while this asshole was collecting his cut, he got angrier. And he broke Denny’s leg. Then he broke his other leg. Then he broke both kneecaps.

  Denny was screaming in so much pain that Jimmy had to jump into the Bentley and turn on the car stereo to drown out the screams. When he turned it on, Neil Diamond was singing Sweet Caroline. Jimmy shook his head at his father’s taste in music. But it was a loud, ballsy song and perfect as a cover for Denny’s screams.

  But Denny kept on screaming in unspeakable pain. Reno bent down to the now immobile man, and looked him dead in the eye. And that same man who had begged for life, was now begging for death.

  “You made a costly miscalculation,” Reno said. “You thought you were going to leave that club, take that blood money, and wash your hands of what happened next. And I was going to pat you on your hand and appreciate those clean hands of yours.” Then Reno shook his head. “Nobody’s that clean. Not when it comes to harming my family. Especially not a fucker like you.” Reno stood up. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the pipe clean of blood and fingerprints. “But hey,” he said. “Who knew? I could be generous too. And I feel generous today. I’ll grant you your request. I’ll let you live.”

  “No!” the man screamed. “Kill me! Kill me now! I don’t want to be some fucking invalid! I can’t live with this kind of pain! Kill me now!”

  But Reno, Sal, and Tommy all walked away. Denny’s screams were still muffled by the sound of Neil Diamond’s melodic voice:

  Sweet Caroline

  Good times never seemed so good

  I’ve been inclined

  To believe they never would!

  Until they piled into the Bentley, and Jimmy drove them away from the scene of the incident, taking the song with them.

  Then all that was left was the screams.

  But then the Bentley backed-back up, and Reno stepped out. He walked up to the still screaming Denny Dunston, and knelt down.

  “You’re too loud,” he said to Denny.

  Denny continued to scream in agony and pain.

  “I cannot allow you to disturb this city like this.”

  More screams. Louder screams.

  “Okay,” Reno said, standing to this feet. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at Denny.

  Denny immediately stopped screaming. “What are you doing?”

  “You told me to kill you.”

  “No! I was just fucking with you. Let me live. Please let me live. I’ll be an invalid anyway. But let me live!”

  “A bad man, in my view,” Reno said, “is a man who doesn’t keep his word. You told me to kill you.”

  “But you said you was going to let me live! You aren’t keeping your word either!”

  “That’s why I’m a bad man,” Reno said, and shot Denny between the eyes. But he kept shooting. He thought about how those thugs shot Trina and how this asshole profited from her pain, and he kept shooting. He shot Denny and shot Denny until there was no more screams, no more movement, no more life.

  And then he left for good.

  Across town, on Bledsoe Road, Reno and Tommy walked up the riggety stairs that led to the upstairs apartment. Reno knocked and looked around, and then at Tommy. Tommy opened his suit coat and placed his hands on his hips. Reno smiled.

  “What?” Tommy asked him. “What’s so funny?”

  “You in that alley with your Christian Louboutin shoes. You at this pissy-ass apartment in your Versace. You look fucking out of place, that’s all.”

  “Fuck you,” Tommy said. But he couldn’t help but smile too.

  The door was opened by a tall white man who appeared surprised to see who it was he so casually had opened his door to. He immediately tried to slam it back shut, but Reno put his shoe in the way. “That’s not nice,” he said, and then pushed the door so forcefully that it knocked the tall man back onto his ass.

  Reno and Tommy entered, and closed the door. Tommy pulled out his gun and immediately began looking around the apartment.

  “Nice to meet you too,” Reno said to the resident. “You may now stand up.”

  Joe Nathan wiped the small trickle of blood from his nose and slowly stood up.
“What do you want?” he asked him.

  “Why did you try to keep us out?” Reno asked him. He sat on the arm of the smelly sofa.

  “Keep who out?” Joe asked. “Who are you?”

  Tommy returned to the living area. Reno looked at him. He nodded his head to let him know the coast was clear.

  “Who are you people?” Joe asked again.

  “Oh, I think you know us. Or at least know of us. Now cut the crap, Joe Nathan. That is your name, right?”

  “Joe who?” Joe asked.

  Reno rolled his eyes. “So you wanna fuck with us too?”

  “I don’t know any Joe Nathan! I rent this apartment just like everybody else in this complex!”

  Tommy reached into Joe’s back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Reno could see the fight drain out of Joe when he did.

  Tommy looked at the ID, and then tossed the wallet aside.

  “What’s his name, Mr. Gabrini?” Reno asked.

  “Joe Nathan, Mr. Gabrini,” Tommy responded.

  Reno shook his head. “Not smart to fuck with a Gabrini,” he said to Joe.

  “Okay,” Joe said. “Alright! I’m Joe Nathan. But you have to believe me. I didn’t realize,” he started to say, and just as they were fully interested in what he had to say, he took an empty liquor bottle off of the coffee table and threw it at Tommy. Then he took off for the backroom.

  Tommy ducked, and fired his weapon, just missing Joe Nathan, and by the time he and Reno could recover, Joe had already ran into the back bedroom and slammed and locked the door. Reno pulled his weapon too, and along with Tommy, hurried for the bedroom.

  When they heard the gunfire, Sal and Jimmy, who were guarding the apartment’s backdoor in case Joe tried to make a run for it, kicked in the backdoor down just as Reno and Tommy were kicking in the bedroom door. Sal pulled his gun and entered the apartment, ordering Jimmy to remain on guard. Jimmy pulled his gun and did as he was ordered.

  But as Sal entered the apartment through the kitchen area, and as Reno and Tommy entered the bedroom, Joe Nathan was nowhere to be seen. Until they saw that a side window was open. Tommy ran to the window and saw Joe Nathan, who had apparently jumped from the window, landing and then rolling onto the grass downstairs. But when he rolled onto his back, he had a gun and was shooting up at them. He retreated against the house and out of target range.