Whitestone, New York
Luca Caruso entered the family living room, not quite ready to leave for his birthday bash. He glanced over at his mother, an attractive woman in her forties with short dark brown hair and a wistful smile, as she sat comfortably on the sofa reading a romance novel.
“I guess I should be heading out,” Luca said. “It’s almost seven.”
She peered up from her book. “You behave yourself tonight, young man. I know you’re eighteen, but don’t get crazy and drink yourself silly or fall in the river. Now, give me a hug and kiss.”
Ever since his father had been murdered five years before, Luca’s mother had become overprotective. And he let her voice her concern. She loved him.
Luca wasn’t worried about falling in the East River. He was concerned about surviving the night, which had nothing to do with drinking.
“Promise,” he said. He gave her a long hug, then sighed. He wanted to hold on forever, but that wasn’t possible, at least not until he settled the situation. If he settled it. The night would tell.
Luca turned and grabbed a flashlight off the end table. A bottle of Russian vodka was waiting for him on the stoop.
He turned back to her from the door. “I love you, Mom.”
She smiled tenderly. “That’s sweet. I love you too, son. Now go and have a good time, Whitestone Boy.”
Luca closed the door, picked up the vodka, which was inside a paper bag, and hustled down the block. The Whitestone Bridge stood a few blocks away, a full moon shining on the festive cable necklace bridge lights with a mirror image on the tranquil East River.
He was now less than a block from Francis Lewis Park (renamed from the Whitestone Park), where the giant boulder called Hells Bells stood like a sentry, a hundred feet in the water. On warm days, the boys would swim out to the monstrous mass and cautiously climb to the top, like their fathers before them. Rumor had it someone stood on top and yelled out Hell’s Bells. The name stuck.
Swimming out to Hells Bells wasn’t on the boys’ agenda that night, drinking and partying was. Luca, the youngest of the five Whitestone Boys, as they called themselves, had just turned eighteen.
His visions turned dark, very dark, as he heard his friends chatting amongst themselves. Luca couldn’t wait until this night was over, and he was back in his kitchen with his mother and sister, Lisa, eating and chatting away about his night with the boys. At least, he hoped his story would end on a high note.
“Hey,” he called out to his buddies, his voice off.
“Finally, the king has arrived.” Matt Larkin, Luca’s best friend, bowed to him.
“You don’t sound too enthusiastic,” slurred Jesse. The cap to his Bacardi rum bottle unscrewed. “Can’t wait forever.”
Kyle and Alex grinned and raised their drinks.
“Let’s party.” Matt led the way, past the park and onto the dirt path leading under the bridge, flashlight in hand, a bright beam piercing the way.
The bridge landing was theirs for the night. Normally, the spot was a sanctuary where fishermen turned inward and thought of life while casting for a complying fish, where lovers took chances, and where an occasional fight broke out. Not tonight. The boys were alone, as though they had reserved the area for themselves.
Luca sat on the edge of a boulder, quietly taking in the fun. His friends were getting silly and wasted, which was good, because he needed them asleep when he left. His heart sank at the thought of never seeing them again, and so he took a mental snapshot of the group. He imagined their future: married with kids. He wanted that, too, with Tara. He just needed to get past tonight.
One by one, the boys began curling up on the dirt. It was after two in the morning, and Luca had a few hours to get to his destination. He waited another half-hour, alone in his thoughts. He then stood over each one, and when he was certain they’d be out for hours, he made his move.
He jogged and reached Fort Totten Park by four a.m. The military tunnel, which had been used during the Civil War, was where he and the Whitestone Boys had spent afternoons inside hanging out, smoking cigarettes, and telling scary stories.
Luca kept vacillating about his options: fight or flight. He knew fighting would be senseless, but maybe he could talk his way out of his predicament. He’d been a good debater at Flushing High School.
God, he wished his father were still around to protect him. He’d been a minor player for the Mob and was killed in the line of screwing up. Maybe Luca should have told Bobby, his mother’s cop boyfriend, about the situation. Surely, he could do something. He turned around to the parking lot and sighed. A little too late for that.
Dad, why did they kill you?
As five a.m. arrived, so did the enemy. He watched as a car’s high beams streamed into the park. Oh, God! Luca looked back at the tunnel one more time and said a short prayer.
Either way, he’d be ready.
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Acknowledgments
This has been a trying time for everyone, writers included—no thanks to the Coronavirus. The love and support I’ve received from family and friends to keep pushing helped me enormously. I pushed through, and the result became my third Hank Reed thriller, The Edge of Murder.
Thanks to my writer group, particularly over the past six months, when our critiques were channeled and limited to email. Thanks to Sharon and George and to my editor, Lacie Redding, who guided me throughout.
Thanks go out to my advanced readers, Sonia Lichtenberg, Derek Taylor, and Peg Kelly, along with my mental health advisers, Mark Lichtenberg, as well as Marla Berger and my publisher at ePublishing Works!, Brian Paules and his staff.
My gratitude goes to my law enforcement friends Bob Marchant and Al Hallonquist, and my legal adviser, Bill Berger.
Thanks to all!
Also by Fred Lichtenberg
The Hank Reed Mystery Series
The Art of Murder
Murder on the Rocks
The Edge of Murder
Bridge to Murder
About the Author
Fred Lichtenberg is a native New Yorker who resides with his wife in Jupiter, Florida. He has one son. After spending a career as a Field Agent with the IRS, Lichtenberg changed gears from crunching numbers to creating fictitious villains and heroes. Hunter’s World (currently titled The Art of Murder), the first book in the Hank Reed Series, begins with the murder of an outside celebrity living in a small community on Long Island. Lichtenberg’s second book, Murder on the Rocks, takes Hank Reed (now a Suffolk County Detective) in search of a missing person presumably involved in a whistleblower investigation.
The Edge of Murder shifts Hank from a detective to a private investigator, where he searches for a missing woman.
Lichtenberg’s stand-alone novels include: Double Trouble; Deadly Heat at The Cottages: Sex, Murder, and Mayhem; Murder 1040: The Final Audit; and the humorous, Retired: Now What?
Lichtenberg also wrote The Second Time Around…Again, a one-act play about finding love in a nursing home, performed at the Lake Worth Playhouse.
Fred is an active member of the Mystery Writers of America and International Thriller Writers.
www.fredlichtenberg.com
The Edge of Murder (A Hank Reed Mystery, Book 3) Page 21
