by Kelly Wood
Franky spent the day in the library scanning old newspaper articles for any mention of Costa and his family. There weren’t any. Of course, Costa had only risen to top dog in the last year. There hadn’t been time for him to accumulate a history of police surveillance or become the person-of-interest in any crimes. Franky watched him now, smoothly drinking his whiskey. His legs crossed, the creases in his pants and shirt perfectly pressed. Even if Costa had been in power for long, Franky didn’t think there would be shadows cast on him. He just didn’t look the part. There were dozens of articles on his and his wife’s giving and charitable work. But never a photograph. Even the mentions of their lavish wedding didn’t contain a single photo. Costa’s wife, Mary Francis, came from an affluent family. Lots of old money, the papers had called it. Old money meant snooty. At thirty, Costa was exactly where he wanted to be, Franky thought. Clear of suspicion. Clear of shadows. He was projecting nothing more than being an upstanding member of society.
Antonio, on the other hand, fit the mold of an old mobster to a T. His black suit and narrow tie complemented his dark, Italian looks. His squat and muscular frame gave the impression of a street fighter. Getting Antonio to blend in would take a lot of work. At the library, the aide had helped him find fashion magazines to ponder over. Franky decided he needed a cleaner look along with Antonio. Something polished, but not stand-out trendy.
Franky stood up straight when Antonio excused himself to the john. Franky outwardly flinched at the boss’s language. That would be another thing he and Antonio would need to improve on. Their language. Costa rarely, if ever, used foul language.
Costa rose with Antonio, but on Antonio’s exit, he didn’t sit back down. Instead, he came and stood in front of Franky. Franky pulled his shoulders back, trying to stand straight, but yet seem relaxed.
“I wanted to thank you for your actions last week.” Franky tried not to let the pleasure of the compliment override his determination to remember Costa’s deadliness, but it was difficult. Antonio was the only one who had ever given Franky acknowledgment.
“I’d like a private word with you.” Costa didn’t wait for Franky to answer. He walked over to his desk, assuming Franky would follow. He did. Costa sat and indicated for Franky to take a seat across from him. Once they were both settled, he began, “I think you have potential.”
A blush threatened to embarrass Franky. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Costa picked up a file from his desk, opening the manila folder.
“Tough life you’ve led. The police are regulars in your home.” Costa shuffled papers, looking for his notes. “Antonio pays for your private schooling?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why?”
Franky debated, worrying his lip with his teeth, but figured the truth couldn’t hurt. “Guy was getting bullied. Never could throw a decent punch. Antonio sent me to watch over him.”
Costa’s calculating eyes watched Franky, evaluating him. “Antonio pay for your grades, too?”
“No. That’s all me. I figured I’d better not blow it since I got the chance.”
“Didn’t want to end up like your old man? Fixing diesel engines?” Franky didn’t acknowledge the question. It wasn’t Costa’s business why he chose to make the opportunity work for him. He had plans. Plans that didn’t include working for someone else.
“Admirable. In school, you’ve kept your nose clean. Never been arrested. Worked for Antonio since you were fifteen, really ten if you count the bodyguard work for his kid. That shows loyalty. You can handle yourself on the street while keeping enough wits about you to not get caught. Be honest with me, Frank. If you had the money, had the chance, would you go to college and leave this life behind?”
Franky tensed at the question. He’d never allowed himself to ponder college. He’d wanted it. He’d dreamed about it. He’d walked the college campus and pretended he was a student, but he never allowed himself to dream of it becoming a reality. He didn’t intend to work for someone else, but within his limitations. He intended to study everything he could get his hands on at the library. He intended to keep working for Antonio, to outshine the sons. Blood only got you so far. Brains, guts, wits, and determination could get you the rest of the way. With a college degree, Franky wouldn’t be locked into this life. He’d be able to go anywhere, do anything. Not look over his shoulder and take bullets. Not plunge a knife into an old man’s chest. He’d be free.
“The thought has crossed my mind, but I never could scrape together enough for the tuition.”
“What if you could have both?” Franky forgot to be afraid and leery of Costa in that moment. Both? The family and an education? He never thought of the two together. It was always one or the other. His voice was nothing more than a whisper.
“How?”
“It’s on us, kid.” Antonio spoke from the doorway. Franky hadn’t heard him return. This time the blush bloomed being caught talking to Costa.
“There’ll be strings, of course,” Costa said. Franky turned back to him. Antonio moved into the room and took the seat next to Franky.
Strings? Franky could deal with strings. Strings could be broken. Later. After an education. “Okay.”
“You’d have to keep your grades up. You’ll be working for Antonio and me. We’re looking to the future, and you are it. Along with us,” Costa said.
“What about your boys?” Franky addressed the question to Antonio.
“They don’t have what it takes. To be in charge, you have to use your brains. Sal’s got bloodlust. Crap, the kid even scares me the way he can wield a knife. Lil’ Tony doesn’t have a brain cell in his head, let alone two. And Guy is smart but soft. I may be their father, but I can see their flaws just as clearly as the rest of you.” Antonio never hesitated in his assessment of his sons. He was accurate on all accounts.
“And what about your sons?” Frank asked Costa.
Costa laughed before answering. “One’s two, and the other is brand-new. They have some time yet before making their mark. I plan on being at the helm for a while yet, anyway.”
“How will this work?” Frank asked.
“You’ll take your classes, study hard. You’ll spend any free time with both Antonio and me, learning the businesses, the ins and outs. You have a good grasp of the lower rungs, but you still have a lot to learn,” Costa said. Frank believed that.
“I only foresee one problem.” Costa and Antonio looked at him and waited. “My old man.”
“Why do you think he would be a problem?” Costa asked.
Franky hesitated. “He’s tried to ruin any shot I’ve had to better myself. He’s shown up at school drunk and started fights with teachers. He’s tried to mess with my crews on the streets. He’s jealous and drunk and dangerous. He would sniff out any work I was doing for you and try to dip his hand into the till, too. He’s a danger.”
Costa met Antonio’s eyes, passing a silent message. Antonio gave a small nod.
“He, unfortunately, is proving a problem for all of us. It is a fair and accurate assessment of him.” Costa leaned back in his chair, looking Franky in the eyes before speaking. “I suspect at the rate he is going, an accident is going to come his way.”
Franky absorbed the information. This was his moment, his chance, a test to his loyalty. He could put a stop to the accident. He could protect his father in a way that his father never protected him. Or, he could take this chance, show Costa and Antonio he had what it took. That he had the guts to make the tough calls. Even when they were personal.
“That’s too bad for dear old Dad. My mother will be heartbroken. Initially.” Franky made his choice. He wouldn’t lose any sleep over his decision.
“Your mother has life insurance on him. It will be a blessing. After some time, of course,” Costa said.
“You up for the challenge, kid?” Antonio asked.
Frank thought it over. The plus side was easy. College education, learning a business from the top dogs. Having plenty of one-on-o
ne time to ask questions and understand it from all angles. It was a huge opportunity. One he didn’t want to pass up.
The downside was a bit trickier. It would also mean a lifetime of working with Costa. A lifetime of being one step ahead of him. Always having to be smarter. Am I up for it? Franky wondered.
Franky was smart enough to see the writing on the wall. Costa eventually wanted Antonio out. And for Costa, what could be better than training his replacement personally? Franky looked at Antonio’s smiling face and made a decision.
He stood up and reached his hand out for Costa’s, sealing the deal. Costa’s smile told Franky he’d made the right decision. Franky realized if he’d turned him down, there might be two accidents in the family. Antonio slapped him on the back in congratulations.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I wrapped my arms tighter around Gray’s neck as he carried me down the hallway. Frank gifted us with a suite of our own for our honeymoon escape. People shouted out congratulations as Gray swept by with me in his arms. I sent out little finger waves to those close to us.
My heart sped up as we neared our room. Virginal flutters caused my stomach to stir. This night wouldn’t be a first for us, but it almost felt like it. Waiting for the party to dissipate, Gray and I snuck little glances and quick kisses, the anticipation of what lay ahead building. We finally kicked everyone out and practically ran to the elevator.
“You could put me down,” I suggested, but was secretly pleased when he denied me.
“We haven’t crossed the threshold, yet.”
“How gallant.”
“Fancy word, Mrs. Thomas.” The name left a sour taste in my mouth, like I’d been sucking on a lemon.
“That sounds so old. Mrs.” I shuddered in Gray’s arms.
Gray laughed. “Get used to it. It’s stuck to you like glue now.”
I leaned down and unlocked the door. I swung it open wide so Gray could sweep into the room with me in his arms. I watched the door slowly close behind him. I anticipated the moment of privacy, holding my breath for the night to come. The door eased home, softly clicking as it closed completely. I looked into Gray’s eyes, ready for the next move. His arms released their hold on me and I slid down his body to stand in front of him. Gray leaned down, our lips barely touching. My heart beat against my chest. I wanted this moment to last forever and speed up at the same time. I snaked my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. We had all night, no need to take our time.
The fire alarm went off.
A string of curse words flew from my mouth before I sent up a little apology. Gray grabbed my hand, pulling me through the doorway and toward the stairwell at the end of the hallway.
“Do we really need to leave?” Gray looked over his shoulder at me, bewilderment marring his face. “I’m just suggesting maybe it’s a false alarm and we are running for no reason.”
Gray pushed open the stairwell door, pulling me down the first flight. I pulled against Gray’s hand to stop moving down the stairs. I bent over to remove my heels. I’d rather expose myself to germs than run down twenty-some flights in high-heeled shoes.
“Regan, so far this week the pool has exploded, your hair was burned off, and someone jumped – or was thrown – off a balcony in this hotel. Do you really want to take the chance that the alarm is false?”
“Good point.” I held my shoes in my left hand and Gray’s hand in my right. As we descended each flight, the stairwell grew more crowded. People pushed and clawed to reach the bottom floors. I lost my grip on the shoes but didn’t stop to try and pick them up. The crowd would trample me like a herd of enraged rhinos.
Gray kept an iron lock on my hand, keeping me next to him. His presence was the only thing keeping the anxiety at bay. The warm bodies pressing into me and the cries of fear were causing my heart to race and my breath to come in gasps. My palms were slick with sweat. I searched wildly for an escape. I needed air. Fresh air. The pressing bodies felt claustrophobic. I gasped again but there wasn’t enough oxygen in the tiny space.
We rounded the next landing and prepared to push our way down the next flight of stairs. I scanned the crowd below us hoping to see it thinning. The door to the floor was open, admitting even more people and smoke. Screams grew louder as the crowd realized the fire was real.
A man held the door open, his face covered with a towel to block smoke inhalation. He barked words of encouragement as he used his free hand to usher people into the stairwell. The flood of extra bodies paused our descent to the next floor until the last person was through the door and into the stairwell. We slowly started down again, trying to stay calm.
Gray and I neared the door, but instead of joining the crowd on the stairs, the man with the towel stepped back into the hallway. The door started to close, narrowing the gap. Time slowed as our eyes locked through the window. I knew him. I just couldn’t remember the context. The memory tugged on my brain. I searched his features for a clue. His scalp showed where his stubble was growing. His eyes were clear and sharp. His brows dark and strong. Above them a puckered scar ran across his upper forehead to his right temple. The scar was completely healed and looked years old but clearly hadn’t been stitched up well. I touched the scar under my chin. It was twenty years old and barely noticeable. My parents had insisted on a plastic surgeon sewing it up after I lost a fight with the monkey bars. They were concerned about a large scar since the cut was on my face.
As Gray and I made the turn, the man and I kept our eyes locked on one another. With only an inch left to see through, commotion behind him had me looking over his shoulder. Sal and Tony ran toward the man. The guy looked over his shoulder and then back to me quickly. He pushed the door closed completely, cutting me off from seeing any more. As the door clicked shut, my memory snapped into place. I’d watched the same man swim across the pool and blow up the glass wall. I tugged on Gray’s arm to let me go, but he held on tighter. I tried to yell above the din of the crowd and get his attention. My message was lost in the noise. As a last resort, I tried pointing and sign language, but gave up when I remembered I didn’t know sign language. We made the final turn and spilled through the open doorway into the side lot, butting up against the sixth-hole fairway. Gray and I distanced ourselves from the crowd, leaving them in the parking lot as we made our way to the golf course. The grass felt cool and inviting under my feet. I stumbled away and sat down as soon as I lumbered past the crowd. I wrapped my arms around my legs and wiggled my toes into the grass. The feeling helped center me. Being barefoot on grass had always helped to clear my mind.
Gray stood next to me scanning the crowd and the hotel. Smoke billowed out of openings but flames couldn’t be seen anywhere. I concentrated on my breathing and slowing my heart down before it raced right out of me. Sirens grew louder as emergency vehicles neared the scene.
“Do you see anything?” I asked. Gray ignored the question. He raised his hand to his lips and gave an ear-piercing whistle before raising his hand above his head and waving. Before I could ask who he was signaling, Passion’s squeal of excitement burst through the crowd. She jogged over to us with Frank on her heels. Passion tackled me to the ground.
“Thank God, Regan. We need you, please!”
I drenched my voice in sarcasm and mocking, “Oh, Regan, are you okay? I was sooo worried about you. I’m so glad to see you.”
“Oh, Regan, stop.” Passion moved to sit next to me and pulled me into a seated position as well. “This is serious. We need your help.”
“I can’t help you, Passion! Don’t you get that? I’m a writer, not a detective.” I threw my arms up in exasperation and laid back down on the grass. The grass tickled the back of neck, a new feeling for the exposed skin.
“Gray, talk some sense into her,” Passion said.
“She’s right. She’s not a detective. What do you expect her to do? Passion, don’t you get the danger that’s involved?” Passion stood up and stalked over to Gray. She rose up onto her tippy-toes and tried to
go nose-to-nose with him. He still towered over her.
I thought about seeing Sal and Tony in the smoke-filled hallway. I looked around the crowd outside of the hotel but didn’t see them anywhere. Gray was right. This was more dangerous than any of us realized if the Bianchi sons were behind the vandalism. I opened my mouth to speak but clamped it shut, not wanting to say anything until I could talk to Gray alone.
“Either you get her to help us or I will tell her your little secret.”
“Passion...” Frank’s voice pleaded.
“Tell me what?” I asked. I stood up and put my hand on Passion’s shoulder, pulling her away from Gray. I looked between them. Gray’s face turned to stone while Passion’s was full of guilt.
“Tell. Me,” I said.
“You don’t know who he is and what he comes from.”
I laughed. I laughed hard. I crossed my arm over my stomach, bent at the waist and laughed until my sides hurt.
“We shouldn’t discuss this now,” Frank said after I calmed down.
“No, Frank.” I raised my arm to stop him from coming closer before turning my fury on Passion. “I know exactly who he is, what he is and what his family is. Got it? I also know who he is.” I pointed to Frank. “What I don’t know is how my sister could think I’d marry someone I didn’t know, or how my sister could keep a secret from me about the man I was to marry. Be more than a pretty face, Passion.”
I turned and headed to the parking garage. I didn’t have a car to go to, but it was away from them. Gray stepped in beside me and placed his hand on the small of my back.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“How dare you, Regan. Get back here.” Passion stomped over and halted me. I turned on her.
“How dare I? You’ve done nothing but lie to me since I got here.” I started ticking off examples using my fingers for emphasis. “The suite upstairs? Nice digs for a dancer. Your relationship with Frank? Why our family is really here? Why I’m the one writing the story on the hotel?”