by Tripp Ellis
I stammered, “Sure thing, Tony.”
“I need a favor.”
My brow crinkled. What kind of favor would a mob guy need from me? “How can I help you?”
“I’ve got a situation, and I’d rather not discuss it over the phone. Meet me at the Seven Seas bar in an hour.”
“You're not going to ask me to do anything illegal, are you?”
“Grow up,” he said, annoyed.
He didn’t really answer my question.
“Alright. I’ll see you in an hour, Meatballs,” I said, casually.
I was probably pushing my luck using that nickname.
Tony hung up.
“What was that about?” JD asked.
I shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.”
We made our way back to the marina and tied off the boat. After we connected shore power and water, we strolled into Diver Down for a quick drink before heading over to the Seven Seas.
We took a seat at the bar, and my sister, Madison, greeted us with a perky smile. It was unusual for her to be so chipper with me, and I regarded her with curiosity. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
Her face soured. “Can’t a girl be in a good mood?”
“Sure. But every time I see you without Ryan, you’re grumpy.”
“Have you ever considered the fact that I might just be grumpy with you?” She forced an exaggerated smile.
I exchanged a glance with JD and rolled my eyes.
“What are you drinking?” Madison asked.
“I’ll take a beer and a cheeseburger with sweet potato fries.”
Madison’s gaze turned to Jack. “You?”
“Shrimp tacos and a beer.”
“Coming right up,” Madison said with a smile.
Her ponytail flicked as she spun around and sent the order to the kitchen. She wore cut off jean shorts, and a bottle opener jutted out of her right back pocket. As usual, she wore a bikini top and was barefoot. Madison had an aversion to shoes. She’d been that way ever since we were kids. She wanted to feel the grass underneath her feet, she always said. Being barefoot made her feel connected to the earth. She had always been a somewhat of a free spirit.
Madison grabbed two amber bottles from the well, then snatched the bottle opener from her back pocket and twirled it like an acrobat. With two quick hisses, the beer caps clattered to the floor, and Madison slid the ice cold bottles across the bar. They were slick from the ice and condensation.
I raised my beer and clinked necks with JD. “To kicking ass and taking names.”
“Here, here.”
The bottle hit my lips, and the cold brew splashed against my tongue.
It hit the spot.
Harlan, a salty retired Marine with a crooked nose and gray hair, muttered in my ear, “She’s smiling because she’s knocked up.”
I damn near spit out my beer and choked.
4
"You're what?" I exclaimed.
Madison huffed, and a frown tugged her lips as she glared at Harlan. "Way to keep a secret!”
"What?" Harlan shrugged. "You were blabbering it to everyone earlier. How was I supposed to know you didn't want Dingleberry here to know?”
I scowled playfully at Harlan, then turned my shocked gaze to Madison. "How far along are you?"
I examined her belly, which was flat as a board.
"Maybe seven weeks? I just confirmed it today. I had been thinking I might be." She smiled and bounced up and down. "I'm so excited."
“Congrats! You’re having a married man’s baby,” I muttered dryly.
There were gasps around the bar, and everyone stared at me.
Madison’s eyes blazed with fire. "You could at least pretend to be happy for me."
"I am. This is wonderful news. I just want you to be taken care of and raise the kid in a stable environment."
"I can take care of myself, and what makes you think I won't provide a stable environment for my child?"
"I wasn't implying that you weren’t capable. But wouldn't you feel just a little bit better if your baby-daddy wasn't married to someone else?"
"He is in the process of getting a divorce. These things take time."
"Let's hope it gets wrapped up within the next nine months," I muttered.
Madison's eyes narrowed. "You should be nice to me. I serve your food."
I forced a smile. She had a point. "You're right. I'm so happy for you. You're going to make a great mom."
Madison flashed an obligatory smile.
"Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
She shook her head. "I'll find out at the first ultrasound, but I'm not sure I want to know. I kind of want it to be a surprise."
I really was happy for her, but I hoped that things worked out with this boyfriend of hers.
The Seven Seas was only five minutes away. By the time I finished my cheeseburger and downed my beer, it was time to get on the road. I had JD drive me to the hotel. We climbed into his red Porsche 911 convertible, and he cranked up the engine. The growl of the flat six was pure music. He dropped the car into gear and barked the tires as he spun out of the parking lot. The evening air was cool, and the wind rustled my hair as we sped down the two-lane blacktop.
“I will enter a few minutes after you, hang back in the lobby, and provide overwatch just in case anything goes down,” JD said as we pulled into the parking lot of the Seven Seas.
I chuckled. "It's a public place. I'm on good terms with Big Tony. Nothing is going to go down.”
“If you say so.”
I climbed out of the car and strolled toward the hotel. JD had gotten my paranoia spinning. For an instant, I wondered if I was walking into an ambush. I hadn’t done anything to piss off the Mafia—not as far as I knew.
Not lately.
Soft piano music wafted through the air as we walked across the lobby. An indoor waterfall trickled, and the spacious atrium was bustling with activity. Travelers checked in, and existing residents wandered into the bar and dining area. Guests mingled by the pool, drinking daiquiris and piña coladas.
Tony was waiting for us at the bar. He greeted me with a grim face and a firm handshake. "Thanks for coming."
“Tony, you know JD.”
The two shook hands.
With three fingers, Tony motioned to the bartender to refill his drink and bring me and JD the same. He knew I was a man that enjoyed a fine whiskey from my evenings at the poker games.
Within moments, the bartender filled three glasses with the amber liquid. It was top shelf stuff. He wore a white shirt, black vest, and black bowtie. He pushed the drinks across the counter.
The bar was dim with modern stylings. LED lights underneath the counter provided a blue glow, and the shelves of liquor were back-lit. Downtempo groove music filled the air at a volume that didn’t preclude conversation.
"What can I do for you?" I asked, cutting to the chase.
"It's about my daughter, Violet,” Scarpetti said in a grim tone. “She's missing. I need you to find her."
5
Scarpetti handed me a photo of his daughter. Violet was a pretty young brunette with a fresh face, brown eyes, and an adorable smile. Big Tony was a smart man. He knew handing me a photo would tug at my heartstrings. How could I say no to that?
“When was the last time you saw her?” I asked.
"I put her into rehab two weeks ago," Tony said. "She missed bed check three days ago. Nobody’s seen her since."
"Has she ever run away before?"
Tony sighed. "Yeah, all the time."
"So, maybe she'll be back in a few days?"
"This is different."
"How?"
"She always lets me know she's okay,” Tony said. “I haven't heard a peep out of her."
"I'm sure she's fine."
"I hope so. I'm worried sick about her. I've doubled up on my heartburn pills. Christ, that girl’s gonna make me old before my time."
"Daughters have a way of doing that," JD said. He was no st
ranger to teenage troubles. His daughter, Scarlett, had gotten herself into more than a few scrapes.
"What's the name of the rehab facility?" I asked.
"The one here in Coconut Key. Renew, or some shit like that. Expensive.”
"I'll stop by and talk to them tomorrow and see what I can find out."
Sweat sprouted on Big Tony’s face, and he fidgeted nervously. I’d never seen the man act like this. He was always calm, cool, and collected.
“Is there something you're not telling me?" I asked.
Tony shrugged, innocently. "I’ve told you everything I know. I’m an open book. I just want my daughter back."
"This is going to sound like a silly question, but have you made any recent enemies? Anybody who would want to harm you?"
"I've got lots of enemies. That's what I'm worried about."
"It would seem someone would have to be pretty foolish to cross a man like you,” I said.
"Stupid people do stupid things all the time."
I had to agree.
"You haven't received a demand for a ransom?”
"No, nothing."
“How old is Violet?” I asked.
“18.”
“So, she’s an adult.”
“Yeah, so? I know what you’re getting at. She can make her own decisions. I can’t keep her in rehab if she doesn’t want to be there. If she wants to run off for a week, a month, a year, she can do so. But, I’m telling you, something’s wrong.”
“I believe you,” I said, trying to calm the man.
He was visibly upset, and his skin misted with sweat. It looked like he was two beats away from a heart attack. I took a sip of my whiskey, and the smooth amber liquid warmed my throat and heated my belly. “What was her drug of choice?”
Tony’s head fell into his hands. “Heroin. I can’t believe she got involved with that stuff.”
There was a long moment of silence.
“And don’t either of you give me funny looks. I never had anything to do with that stuff, and I never will. I’m old school. My people always earned their money the old-fashioned way. We never trafficked drugs.”
I wasn’t going to judge the man for his involvement with the Mafia. Right now, he was just a man that was concerned about his family. He was adamant that his past criminal behavior was limited to things that were more acceptable in his eyes. Extortion, racketeering, loansharking. Good old-fashioned ways of making money. Without using so many words, he made it clear that those days were behind him. He was a legitimate businessman now—as legitimate as a man like Big Tony could get.
“What about her friends? Boyfriend?” I asked.
Tony groaned and rolled his eyes. “Don’t get me started on that lowlife.”
“So, you like the guy?” JD said, dryly.
“Dmitry Ivanov. Scumbag. Russian Mafia. His old man is the boss of the Mikhailov Syndicate. I don’t know what she saw in him. They broke up, thank God.”
“Do you think he could have something to do with her disappearance?“
“He was my first call,” Tony said. “Said he hadn’t seen or heard from Violet since she went into rehab.”
“Was it a bad breakup?”
“All breakups are bad, or there wouldn’t be breakups.”
Big Tony had a point.
“What kind of relationship did they have?” I asked.
“I think there were a lot of fireworks between them, good and bad. One minute she loved him, the next minute she hated him. She was either on cloud nine, or crying. You know, at that age, everything is the end of the world.”
JD gave a nod of agreement.
“Did he ever get physical with her?” I asked.
“Not that I know of. He’d be a dead man if he laid a hand on her.” Tony paused. “Between you, me, and the wall… right now our organizations have a peace treaty. I don’t think Dmitry would risk screwing that up. There would be hell to pay.” Tony sighed. “I guess it’s possible Violet could have gone back to him.”
“We’ll check him out,” I said. “What about friends?”
“Talk to Autumn Brivio. Those two are as thick as thieves. If Violet got into trouble, Autumn was always with her. She’s a bad influence. Half the shit my kid is into is because of her. Those two have been raising hell since kindergarten. Of course, when I talked to her, she didn’t know anything either.”
“I’ll see what we can pry out of her,” I said.
Tony gave me contact information for both Dmitry and Autumn.
"Keep this between us," Tony said. "I don't want any cops involved."
JD and I exchanged a look.
"We are, sort of, cops," JD said.
Big Tony rolled his eyes. "You two aren't cops. You're tourists with badges."
JD and I feigned offense.
"Then why reach out to us?" I asked.
Big Tony leaned in, and his brooding eyes stared into me. "Because I know what you're capable of. I want you to find my daughter. And if somebody took her, I want you to make them pay."
“What makes you think she was taken?” I asked.
“Gut instinct. And my gut is never wrong.”
"I'll do what I can within the confines of the law," I said.
Tony scoffed. "When has the law ever stopped you? You've earned quite the reputation as a man who gets things done."
I couldn't argue.
I gulped the rest of my whiskey down and thanked Tony for the drink. "Keep in touch with me. Let me know if you hear anything from Violet."
"Don't worry," JD added. "We got this."
"And I mean it. No cops. No feds. I don't trust those slimy cocksuckers.”
6
"I suppose taking on a Mafia kidnapping is your idea of administrative leave?" JD asked.
I shrugged. "Side project."
We strolled through the parking lot of the Seven Seas and climbed into JD's Porsche.
“You up for raising a little hell?” JD asked.
“Haven’t we raised enough for one day?”
“One drink,” JD said. “There’s a cute new bartender at Tide Pool.”
I relented with a sigh. “One drink.”
We cruised to Oyster Avenue with the top down, looking to see what kind of trouble we could get into.
"Are you sure you want to take this case on?" JD persisted.
"Why not? Tony’s just a guy with a problem, and we solve problems."
"Yeah, but what happens if we don't solve his problem? A guy like that is dangerous when he is angry."
"Tony's a big teddy bear. Relax," I said, trying to convince myself. "Violet probably ran away with a girlfriend and they’re off on a bender. We’ll find her and bring her back. And, maybe, Big Tony can get her cleaned up."
JD scoffed. He knew all too well how difficult that was. "Good luck with that."
The strip was packed. A sea of revelers flowed up and down the sidewalks, hopping from bar to bar. The glow from neon lights painted the streets. A kaleidoscope of music from various bands spilled from bars and clubs, echoing down the avenue. It was early, but Oyster Avenue was in full swing.
Tide Pool was a trendy bar that played chill beats and had an indoor pool and several jacuzzis. It smelled like chlorine, beer, and whiskey. The place was bathed in blue light, and caustics from the water danced on the walls. Girls in skimpy bikinis sauntered about. People sipped on drinks in the pool. There were tanning booths in the back if you wanted to bombard your skin with UV light.
I'm not afraid of much, but the water in the jacuzzis scared me. There wasn't enough chlorine in the world to kill some of the things that floated in that water.
There was a main bar, a swim-up bar in the indoor pool, and a smaller outdoor pool with a bar that serviced the swimmers on one side, and walk-ups on the other. Tiki torches flickered around the back patio. JD and I were certainly overdressed for the occasion. We strolled through the establishment, taking in the sights. Skimpy, wet bikinis barely contained pert assets. Pretty peopl
e frolicked about, and the occasional bikini top somehow went missing.
JD had a sly grin on his face as we strolled to the back bar. He wasn't lying. The bartender was cute. She had curly blonde hair, a bright smile that belonged in a toothpaste commercial, and sparkling blue eyes. She wore a royal blue bikini that left little to the imagination.
"Hey, JD!” she said, as we took a seat at the bar.
"Harper, I’d like you to meet my friend, Tyson."
Her smile got even brighter. "Nice to meet you."
"You as well. What can I get for you boys?"
“Whiskey. Rocks,” JD said.
Harper’s gorgeous eyes flicked to mine.
"Same."
"Coming right up."
She grabbed a bottle from the well, twirled it in her palm, and filled two glasses. Tide Pool was the kind of place that used top shelf liquor in their well, which was reflected in their pricing. Harper slid the drinks across the bar. "Do you want to start a tab?"
JD nodded.
We clinked glasses with a toast and sipped our whiskey and took in the scenery. I could see why JD had been spending a lot of time here.
"How's Scarlett?" I asked.
"Well, she's not in jail. So, that's a plus."
Scarlett was on probation for drug possession. Two years, deferred adjudication. If she kept her nose clean, no pun intended, the whole thing would be wiped from her record. But asking Scarlett to stay out of trouble for two years was like asking water not to be wet.
The girl was gorgeous, smart, funny, and had a lot of potential. I just hoped she could pull it together before it was too late.
One drink turned into a few. We sat at the bar and shot the shit for a few hours, feasting our eyes on the visual delights. JD left Harper an enormous tip when he settled the bill. It was no wonder she had greeted him with such a smile.
"Thank you, honey," she said, flirting just enough so that JD would think he had a chance.
Who knows? Maybe he did?
We stopped at the Driftwood diner on the way home for a late night meal. I was surprised they let us in after our last visit. A vague glimmer of recognition flashed in the hostess’s eyes, but I don't think she could quite place us. She grabbed a few menus and led us to a booth in the back. We slid onto the leather benches and perused the menus.
