One Last Kill

by Spenser Warren

  This is my empire, Caruso. If you want a piece, you’re gonna have to wait in line.

  6

  After a light lunch with Fonzie, Cal went back to his apartment, thinking about the events of the last several hours. He was glad to get the MacErlean business over with and was ready to start tailing Mayor Caruso. Though surveillance wasn’t his favorite job, he enjoyed the feeling of being on the hunt and ensuring the mafia’s enemies were dealt with properly. Cal couldn’t think of a more exciting profession for his skill set, even after Fonzie’s philosophical question following their meeting with Alfredo.

  Later that afternoon, Cal received a call from his girlfriend, Maria, inviting him over for dinner. Maria was a PhD student at the University of Chicago, studying psychology. Even though she was often busy with a rigorous study and research schedule, she knew how to let loose and enjoy life, which was Cal’s favorite part about her. She reminded him that life could be more than tailing enemies and killing them.

  As they reached the end of their conversation, Maria told Cal that she loved him. Cal hung up before Maria could ask him why he failed to add “I love” to Cal’s utterance of “you too.” The word “love” had such a strong meaning, and it was something Cal didn’t want to throw around lightly. Other than the love he felt for his mother growing up, Cal wasn’t sure if he’d truly loved anyone. He could say he liked the Petrocellis and appreciated what they’d done for him by taking him in, but he never felt like he loved them.

  He really liked Maria, maybe he even loved her, but acknowledging that love and putting his heart on the line was something he couldn’t bring himself to do. As a hit man, he wondered if he even had a heart.

  Around four o’clock, Cal walked to the store for a bottle of Maria’s favorite chardonnay and took an Uber to her apartment.

  Once he reached Maria’s building, Cal pushed the buzzer for Maria Espinoza and heard a click, signaling he could come up. Sometimes, Maria got so excited for Cal’s visits that she ran down the stairs from her third-floor apartment just to hug him a few seconds earlier. It felt nice to have that effect on someone.

  The gentle patter of Maria’s footsteps was inaudible this time, so he assumed she was busy putting the finishing touches on her tamales. He was curious how she managed to cook and assemble them in her small studio.

  “Mr. Wino is here,” Cal said after opening the apartment door. Maria’s back was to him while she placed some bagged tamales in the freezer. She turned around to smile at him; he couldn’t help but smile back. There was something different about her that made life seem worth living.

  Maybe the missing “I love you” hadn’t pissed her off after all?

  Maria walked toward Cal and melted into his arms. He held her tightly and reveled in her scent as their lips met. She smelled like a mixture of vanilla and seasoned beef from the cooking. They kissed once more before Cal broke away to soak up her beauty.

  Maria’s tan skin shone brightly, even under her white T-shirt and Daisy Duke–style jean shorts. Her black hair was as thick as a horse’s mane and hung down past her waist, hugging her hips in the way Cal’s hands would if they were on a nightclub dance floor. She sometimes threatened to cut it and donate the severed locks to charity, but she hadn’t as of yet.

  Even though he couldn’t bring himself to say the L-word after a year of semiserious dating, Cal wouldn’t change a thing about her. From the curves of her body in all the right places, to her ambition in completing her PhD program, to her smarts, to her cooking, and even her occasional fiery argumentative style, Cal couldn’t imagine his life without her.

  “Dinner’s ready. I hope you’re hungry.”

  Cal coughed, clearing his throat. “Ahem, I think you’ve failed to notice my great taste in wine with this wonderful chardonnay selection.”

  Maria eyed the wine, then darted her eyes toward Cal’s. “Wow, I’m impressed. You know that’s my favorite, right?”

  “That’s why I bought it.”

  Cal tilted the bottle toward her, the label facing up as the bottle rested on his palm. “Unoaked, just how you like it.”

  Maria gave Cal a peck on the lips and touched the side of his face with her fingertips. The touch was light, but it caused Cal to flinch. Though a childhood scar had faded, its memory was fresh in his mind.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Let’s eat, shall we?”

  Cal’s stomach rumbled as he followed her.

  “What did you make for sides?”

  Maria gestured toward the kitchenette where the tamales were sitting in a baking pan on the stove, still warm from the steamer. A large pot of yellow Mexican rice sat on one burner and a saucepan filled with refried beans on another. On the tiny bit of counter space Maria had placed a bowl of guacamole salad.

  “This looks great. How did you find the time to make all of this?”

  “It took a lot of bribes. My friends from my program heard I make mean tamales, so they were over here bright and early to help out before we hit the books for the afternoon. Those bags in the freezer are their reward.”

  Cal wrapped his arms around her and snuggled against her from behind, placing kisses against her neck.

  “What do you say I savor something else before we devour these tamales?”

  She winked at him over her shoulder and stuck out her tongue. “Let’s eat, mister. I know you’ve got your mind elsewhere.”

  Maria grabbed a plate from the cupboard and fixed a plate for Cal. She put two large tamales covered in a mole sauce and Chihuahua cheese on the plate, along with a helping of the rice, beans, and salad. Cal grabbed his plate while Maria prepared one for herself.

  “My mind is completely on these tamales. I’ve been dying for you to make these for months, and you do it on a whim for your school friends.”

  Maria joined a smiling Cal at the small table next to the entrance. Cal was tempted to dig in before she sat down—the tamales looked that appetizing—but he patiently waited while she set her plate down and brought over two wineglasses.

  “Allow me,” Cal offered as he took the bottle from her, uncorked it, and poured the chardonnay into their glasses. They raised their glasses and toasted each other, smiling at the clinking noise. After taking a sip of the wine, Cal tore into the tamales, loving the sweet and salty tastes on his tongue.

  “This is absolutely delicious. How did you learn to make these?”

  “It’s an old family secret. My father learned how to make them from his mom in Mexico. We prepare the mole sauce the day of too. Most restaurants don’t know how to make them right.”

  Cal savored another bite of the tamales and agreed that Maria’s rendition was the best he’d ever eaten. He needed to sample the rice, beans, and salad before he completely wolfed down the tamales.

  “How do you like the rest of it?”

  Cal could only nod, as his mouth was too full to respond. He took a drink of the wine before telling her how delicious it was. The rest of their meal carried on in relative silence as they enjoyed the taste of the dishes. Eventually they’d cleaned their plates, and Cal helped himself to a few more tamales while Maria poured more wine. Her gaze on Cal was cooler than it had been at any other point that evening.

  “So earlier today when we talked—”

  “I know what this is about,” Cal interrupted. He felt a flash of anger fill his insides. Hot waves of venom blew upward from his stomach, tickled his ribs, and made their way into his heart, where he felt the fury roar further into his esophagus.

  Maria looked taken aback and placed her hand atop her breast. “What do you think this is about?”

  The venom in Cal’s body leapt up his throat and exited in his words. “The end of the phone call. You’re insecure because I didn’t say that magic word.”

  Maria’s eyes bugged out at him. “Me? Insecure? We’ve been dating for over a year, and you can’t say one simple word? Just one.”

  “Technically, it was two. I forgot the ‘I.’”

  “Oh, fine. Y
ou forgot the ‘I.’ I’m glad you could say one of the words. Now, where’s the other one?”

  Cal took another bite of the tamales. If he was going to get lectured, he wanted to enjoy some of the food on his plate. Maria glared in response.

  “You have some nerve eating while we’re trying to have a serious conversation.”

  Cal slammed his fork down on his plate in another outburst. He remembered his father doing the same thing when his mother told him not to go to Indiana to gamble away money they didn’t have. Cal hated that. Why was he doing the same thing now?

  “You’re wrong. We’re not having a serious conversation here. You’re lecturing me. You know how much that pisses me off, Maria.”

  Maria shook her head and frowned at her empty plate. Cal was surprised by how calm she seemed. Maria loved to argue until she was talking a hundred miles an hour and mixing in as many swear words as a soldier in combat. She tilted her glass of wine toward her mouth, took a long swig, and then set the glass down, her arm stiff with tension.

  “I know how you feel about me, Callahan. Why is it so hard for you to reveal anything about yourself? You still haven’t told me what you really do for a living. I’ve been to your apartment a hundred times. You can’t afford to live there as a bouncer.”

  Cal had underestimated her. It wouldn’t be dishonest to tell her that he loved her, because he thought he did. Many years of killing made him forget what love might feel like, even if it was right in front of him.

  They stared at each other in silence. Many times when they got mad at each other, the yelling and screaming would only last for a few minutes. Then they would proceed to rip each other’s clothes off and make passionate love. Cal didn’t see her giving in this time. He wasn’t giving in either.

  “I’ve told you before, I’m not just a bouncer. People pay me good money to protect their interests and solve their problems. Powerful people.”

  “Are we really going to go on with this schtick?”

  “What schtick?”

  “Where you just ‘protect people.’ Let me ask you this, Callahan. Do you do any work for your father? I know all about Alfredo Petrocelli. He’s nothing but a goombah. A MacDaddy mobster.”

  Cal couldn’t help but let out a laugh. What the hell is a “MacDaddy”?

  “Alfredo isn’t my father. My father was murdered when I was twelve years old. My mother died in a car accident two months later. You don’t need to remind me.”

  Maria pushed her hands away from the table and held them up in mock surrender. “Oh, I’m sorry. Except that I’m not sorry because I know how much you hated your father, and I really don’t know how you could’ve loved your mother because you certainly don’t love me.”

  Maria finished her wine and picked up her plate. She threw the plate in the sink where it clanged against other dishes. Cal was surprised it didn’t break. He’d never seen her this violent before.

  “That’s not true.”

  Now he was on the defensive. It would go a long way for him to apologize and admit he had a tough time being vulnerable about his feelings. But Cal didn’t do therapy, and he wasn’t about to be treated like one of her research subjects. He’d really hoped to enjoy a nice evening of dinner and sex with Maria, but instead he held an inflated sense of pride leading to this fight.

  “Really? Maybe you should think about that next time I see you. If I want to see you. I can’t believe I whipped up my papa’s tamales for you. You should go.”

  Cal saw little point in arguing. He knew where this was headed. Like all of his old relationships, this was going straight down the drain.

  7

  Cal exited the Dunkin’ Donuts on a warm and rainy Monday morning. It was time to begin his surveillance work to determine if Mayor Caruso really was going to cause trouble for the Petrocellis.

  As if the early-morning surveillance mission wasn’t enough to ensure Cal wouldn’t get a full night’s sleep, he had spent the night tossing and turning with Maria’s words pounding in his brain, making him feel lower than at any other point in his life. Stealing the lives of others paled in comparison to the misery he felt at how he’d treated Maria after all the effort she’d put in to prepare a fancy dinner for him. Yelling at her like his father had screamed at his mother, and how Alfredo barked at anyone around him, caused Cal to rethink his priorities.

  Since he hadn’t slept well, Cal got an early start to the morning and thought about how he might make it up to Maria. He remembered an afternoon they’d spent together earlier that summer, before Cal had to worry about tailing MacErlean and could relax a bit. They started their day together at Navy Pier, riding the Ferris wheel, checking out the small stores, and eating pizza before they walked to Michigan Avenue so Maria could check out the shops.

  They’d walked past Saks Fifth Avenue, and Maria had let go of Cal’s hand and looked at the window with excitement. A beautiful cream-colored ruffle dress was displayed on one of the mannequins in the storefront window. Cal saw Maria’s eyes glow with wonder. He knew right then that she wanted it. While Maria ended up buying a different dress at a different store that day, Cal wondered if he should’ve taken her back to Saks and purchased the dress for her.

  The minute he made the decision to get out of bed, Cal flipped open his laptop. He went on the Saks website and immediately purchased the dress for her. The immense price of the dress didn’t concern him. For good measure, he found a matching pair of heels and threw them into his online shopping cart. Maria was worth every penny.

  This is what it meant to love someone, he thought. Feeling good about giving them a present they deeply desired and not expecting anything in return. It caused a warmth in his heart that he’d never felt before.

  Cal arrived at Tony’s car, complete with new license plates after the MacErlean grab, with two large coffees. As exhausted as he was from the lack of sleep, he felt he could drink both of them himself.

  He was reluctant to use Tony for this particular task—he’d much rather have Fonzie along with him—but Fonzie was occupied keeping watch on some of the lower-level drug dealers in the South Shore neighborhood. Frankie Ramone had passed along Alfredo’s orders not to target new customers in case any narcs were around cracking down on business. Cal knew how the reduction in profits hurt Alfredo, but that was nothing compared to the sense of helplessness he must have felt at having to operate his business in reaction mode. The Caruso situation was stomping on the throat of not only the mafia’s business but Alfredo’s freedom. The sooner Cal figured out what was going on, the easier his boss’s nights would become.

  Cal handed Tony the iced coffee, and the boy gulped down the liquid. Cal wasn’t sure how he wasn’t getting a brain freeze. He took a sip of his own straight black bitter liquid, reveling in the burning sensation running down his throat.

  “I’m glad we picked up coffee on the way. Otherwise, I’d never be able to wake up,” Tony said.

  “As Ben Franklin said, ‘Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.’”

  Tony glanced at Cal with a perplexed look on his face. He shrugged, then smiled with a slight hesitation before pulling away from the curb. They decided to head to City Hall and park as far away as possible while maintaining a view of the front of the building to see if they could spot the mayor outside. Cal wanted to see if he could determine which entrance the mayor took into the building and if he had any security with him. If he ever had to have a physical confrontation with the mayor, he wanted to know what he was up against.

  “I think you’re pretty wise,” Tony said. “Fonzie totally messed up with MacErlean, but I know you wouldn’t have. You would’ve knocked that guy out, and no one would’ve seen a thing.”

  When Cal didn’t respond, Tony began talking again. When he got to talking, he didn’t stop. Cal focused on the task at hand while pretending to listen.

  “How long are we going to be out here? What happens if someone suspicious goes in? Are we going inside?”
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  “Hold it, Tony. One question at a time. This is only day one of surveillance. We have to establish Caruso’s pattern before we do anything. It would be foolish to do otherwise.”

  “You’re right. I see why the boss wants you on this one. I knew you were wise.”

  Cal glared at the boy. He was starting to get on his nerves.

  “Look, don’t patronize me, kid. This life may seem glamorous from the outside, but it isn’t.”

  Tony kept driving. They would be in position in about five minutes, right when traffic started getting thick. “Are you alright? You look kind of out of it.”

  Cal’s mind was reeling after his argument with Maria the previous night. He’d texted her to apologize, to let her know that there was something special arriving for her soon, but she hadn’t answered. His worry must have been showing.

  “Isn’t this how I normally look? Like I’ve always got my game face on?”

  Tony chuckled and took another sip of his coffee. “Yeah, you usually look like a tough bastard. I wouldn’t want to mess with you. I’ve been meaning to ask you something, though. What’s that stuff in the back?”

  Tony pointed to a briefcase Cal had placed in the back seat containing various surveillance equipment: small microphones, transmitters, earpieces, cameras. Cal rarely used the stuff but had it around in case he needed it. When he told Tony, he gasped, as if he were in James Bond’s presence.

  “I thought you said we weren’t doing any of that kind of stuff?”

  “We’re not. But if the need arises, we’ll be glad we have it. A good Boy Scout is always prepared.”

  They arrived at LaSalle Street, and Tony did a U-turn to park on the opposite side, facing the main entrance of City Hall. It was a little before seven, and Cal wasn’t sure when the mayor would get there. It was a good thing the 7-Eleven was nearby in case they needed more coffee.