Endings & Beginnings: Book Three of The New Mafia Trilogy

by E. J. Fechenda

  After the run I stopped at Starbucks to grab a coffee and muffin. One thing I needed to do was grocery shop and then I had to see if my waitressing job at Dirty was available. If not, finding a new job was a priority.

  It was late afternoon when I pulled into the parking lot at Dirty and I recognized Callie’s car. She was the owner and had taken over management of the bar after her husband was killed during a robbery. She had hired me on the spot and I’d spent Christmas Eve at her house, so I hoped getting my job back would be easy.

  The door squeaked when I opened it and Collin glanced up from behind the bar. I smiled and waved, but he didn’t acknowledge me, just turned away to finish setting up for the night. I wasn’t surprised about the cold reception. Collin was one of Jason’s best friends and when I broke up with Jason, he quit bartending at Dirty therefore coming between their great bromance. Undeterred, I continued past the bar and down a dimly lit hallway to Callie’s office.

  “Come in,” she called after I knocked, her voice muffled through the door. I stepped inside, leaving the smell of bar behind and entered a homey office. A linen and lavender candle on her desk filled the small room with its fragrance. “Nat, welcome back!” Callie smiled and stood up to walk around her desk, meeting me halfway to give me a hug. “How’s your brother?”

  “Grant’s doing great – better than expected.” Nothing had changed at Dirty since I had left but while it felt like I had been gone for a year it only had been for a little over a month. Callie tucked a stray curl behind her ear and sat back down behind her desk. I took one of the two seats in front. Her laptop was on and from the angle, saw a spreadsheet on the screen. A ledger and various invoices were spread out on the light wood surface of her desk.

  “I can’t believe you guys were there during that shooting,” she shuddered and her eyes darted to the picture of her husband that she kept on her desk. “Random acts of violence seem to be increasing. I hate it.” Her husband, Frank, was a victim to such a crime when he was shot and killed during a robbery.

  “It was scary and surreal. I’m just glad Grant is going to be okay. Is this a good time?”

  “Yeah, I can always use a break from paying bills,” she said with a laugh, rocking back in her chair and sticking her feet up on the corner. Callie slipped her sandals off and I caught a flash of red polish on her toenails. On the wall behind her I saw the collection of her oldest daughter’s drawings had grown. Ally had improved over the school year. “What’s up?”

  “I didn’t know if my job is still available? I understand if it isn’t, but…”

  I could see the answer on her face before she voiced it. “I’m sorry, Nat. I needed to hire someone.”

  “It’s okay; I figured you couldn’t hold it.” I swallowed down the panic as my checking account balance was getting dangerously low and didn’t really provide much of a cushion for a long job hunt. “Do you know of anyone hiring that you could refer me to?” I asked, meeting her kind brown eyes. Callie dropped her feet down and leaned toward her computer. She pulled a pencil out of her hair undoing a haphazard bun that sent curls spilling around her shoulders. Tapping the eraser against her bottom lip, Callie typed in something.

  “Tell you what; I can use an additional experienced server for Saturday nights as they’ve been off the rails lately. You’re welcome to that and I’ll put my feelers out to see if we can’t find you something else. Cool?” she looked up at me.

  It wasn’t much, but it would give me some cash plus time to get my resume together. “That’s great, Callie, thank you! When do you want me to start?”

  “This weekend; if you can?”

  “Yeah, sure. Report at 4:00?”

  “You got it!” She stood and came around the desk to give me another hug. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  We said goodbye and I left her office. Collin was still getting his bar ready and he silently watched me walk past. Things might be awkward for the first couple of shifts, but it was only one night a week and I could deal with the cold shoulder, although I’d miss his playful flirtatious banter. Collin was forever hitting on me just to fuck with Jason and it was always fun to play along. He and Jason were best friends and I knew Collin wasn’t serious. He’d never do anything to hurt the bromance.

  With some temporary income on the horizon, I stepped out of Dirty into the hot late afternoon sun with less of a weight on my shoulders, but the burden wasn’t completely lifted. Money was going to be tight for a bit. Fortunately I grew up poor and knew how to be conservative. I’d been spoiled being Dominic’s girlfriend and Grant liked to spoil me too. The BMW he gave me as a college graduation present and that I was currently driving out of the parking lot was one example, but I also remembered living on rice, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and store brand mac and cheese. I’d make do. I had to.

  Chapter 33

  DOMINIC

  We gathered at “The Speak” where a revenge seeking Joey D. paced the room like an angry bull circling an arena. I even called my brother and Dante’s brother in for the meeting and of course Miranda’s brother, Paulie, arrived with them. They were cousins, but just as close as brothers. Johnny had mad tech skills and could hack into the police department’s server for information about “The Giant’s” death. Not only was this helpful in determining whether the cops we had on payroll were telling the truth, but if the Feds stonewalled our resources, we had an alternative.

  Johnny explained he was able to use a series of IP addresses that bounced all over the world so if a breach were ever detected, it would be extremely difficult to trace the hacker’s actual location. I don’t know where or how he learned all of this shit. It clearly wasn’t in high school or passed down from his dad because Uncle Al still had a hard time making a call using his flip phone.

  The Giant’s presence was noticeably absent. Not just physical since his sheer size filled any room, but he rarely missed a meeting. I didn’t like losing one of my own. None of us did. Whoever killed Anthony had messed with my family.

  My dad was the last to arrive and I gestured to Sam, the doorman, to lock the door. Ordinarily when we gathered in the lounge area, what used to be a living room when The Speak was a residence, we drank and were in better moods. This time none of us wanted to cloud our minds or numb our feelings. Clear heads were needed to figure out who was responsible so we could enact swift retribution for our fallen brother.

  We relocated to the kitchen and sat around a large table that was used for intense, high stakes poker games. Sam stayed by the front door as a lookout for anyone suspicious. We had been careful checking for tails on our way over here.

  “Okay, so what do we know?” I asked Grant. He had been the one in charge of contacting our friends on the force.

  “Not much. According to Detective Kaminski, the Feds showed up and shut everyone out. Special Agent Phillips seized all of the evidence. The H and money were left at the scene so it wasn’t a robbery.”

  “A definite hit, then,” Dante said.

  “Or a message,” I added, “but for me or Demetrius?”

  “He was having problems with the 40th Street Gang, but they’re not the type to leave cash and product behind.”

  “All the other exchanges went off fine?” Miranda asked.

  “Yeah. We were all at Demetrius’ waiting for our people to check in.”

  “It’s not a robbery and someone had to know that Anthony and Demetrius’ man were meeting. This reeks of a hit,” Grant said.

  “If that’s the case, we have a small list of people who knew about the meet times and locations. Either one of them set it up or ran their mouth to the wrong person.” I looked around the table as my implication sunk in. “We need to figure out who it was and fast.”

  We spent the next two hours reviewing the short list of suspects. Trust was already a frayed thread holding business deals between criminals together. I had my organization to run and so did everyone else. Each of us wanted a bigger piece of the pie and I wasn’t ignor
ant to think these leaders weren’t capable of trying to seize control. The fact that the drugs and money were left behind made me think whoever planned this wasn’t interested in a quick take. They wanted law enforcement poking around and I already had heat from the Feds. If they didn’t already know, it wouldn’t take long for them to figure out who The Giants’ associates were and I knew Special Agent Phillips was going to be up my ass even more. Fucking great.

  At the end of the meeting, Demetrius’ gang’s rivals were still at the top of the list of suspects followed by Egan. Out of the others, he was the one chafing for a bigger cut and didn’t like that I was heading up the heroin shipments. Next would be Ji because he was young and wanted to make a name for himself, but then again, the same could be said for me.

  Since Egan and I didn’t get along, Dante agreed to ask around and do some digging. I decided to have Grant and Miranda vet out Ji while Joey D. and I were going to talk to Marcus, the leader of the 40th Street Gang. All of this needed to be done below the Fed’s radar.

  The meeting ended and as I was getting ready to leave, my dad approached.

  “Dom, you got a minute?”

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  He sat down next to me at the table with his work roughened hands stretched out before him. “I know you didn’t want to hear it, but I think you need to reconsider having one of the soldiers with you as additional protection whenever you go somewhere.”

  “Dad,” I started to object, but he cut me off.

  “Hear me out. There are too many unknowns with Anthony’s death and any one of us could be targets – you especially.”

  It was one thing to have someone following me when I was with Natalie, just as an extra layer of protection for her. I was getting ready to tell him no again, but by the way he sat with his shoulders hunched and he ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair, I could tell he was genuinely worried.

  “Okay, okay. It’ll be a pain in the ass, but if it gives you peace of mind I’ll do it.”

  “Good. Leo is waiting outside and ready to escort you wherever you need to go.”

  My dad left and I was getting ready to stand up when Grant sat down in the recently vacated seat. Miranda flanked me on the other side.

  “Alright, what’s going on?” I asked.

  “What happened between you and my sister the other night?” Grant asked and his glare told me he was asking as a brother and not as my capo.

  “Why, what did she say?”

  “It’s her whole flying back to California this morning that told me something happened.”

  “What?” I launched out of my seat and started pacing. Just like my dad did moments before, I ran a hand through my hair. “She’s gone?”

  “She couldn’t leave fast enough and didn’t let me drive her to the airport. So, what the fuck happened between you two – I thought you were making some progress?”

  With a sigh, I sat back down and leaned back in the chair to tell Grant and Miranda why I cut Natalie loose.

  “Great and when she got home we told her Grant was healthy enough that she didn’t need to stick around anymore. She probably felt rejected,” Miranda said. We both looked at her. “Yeah, that’s how girls think.”

  Rubbing my hands over my face, I groaned. “I can’t think about this right now. Honestly, with the shit going on it’s good Natalie’s far away, which is precisely why I put an end to anything between us, as much as it sucks.”

  “Damn, that means you’re going be one irritable bastard until you get some pussy,” Dante, who was coming into the conversation late, joked and I punched him. He stepped away laughing.

  Sam unlocked the front door and everyone filed out, walking to their respective vehicles. I spotted Leo across the street. He was sitting on the stoop of a row home that was for sale smoking a cigarette and had the classic summer uniform for South Philly on; a red Phillies tee shirt and gold chain with tan cargo shorts and white sneakers. He flicked his butt onto the sidewalk and made his way across the street.

  “What’s up, Dom?” he asked, nodding his head at everyone leaving.

  “Come on, you’re riding with me. Joey, figure out where Marcus is hanging and we’ll go pay a visit.”

  “On it,” Joey said before firing up his Harley. The pipes growled low and then he romped on the throttle, taking off down the narrow one way street, setting off car alarms in his wake.

  Leo and I were on the way to my condo when my cell phone rang. “This is Dom.”

  “Mr. Grabano, this is Rebecca at the front desk. Did you place a service call for the cable company?”

  I sat up straighter in my seat and my eyes narrowed. “No. Why?”

  “They’re here claiming you called, but I know you normally have us make those arrangements for you.”

  “Thank you for calling, Rebecca. My cable is just fine. Please don’t let them into my condo.”

  “I won’t and you’re welcome, sir.”

  I dropped my phone in the cup holder and shook my head. “They’re getting fucking desperate.”

  “Who is?” Leo asked. He lit up a smoke and cracked the window.

  “The Feds. They just tried to gain access to my place. Be on the lookout,” I warned him as I turned onto Columbus Boulevard and approached my building. Late afternoon sun glinted off of the river and cast the bridge in a dusty gold glow. Sure enough, a generic white pick-up truck with magnetic signs for the cable company on its doors was parked in the street out front. As soon as I pulled up to valet, the truck peeled out and took off down the street. After handing the keys off, I gave the valet driver a $100 tip and asked him to sweep it for anything unusual. “Yes, sir!” he said with a grin.

  Next, I stopped at the front desk to thank Rebecca in person. She looked Leo up and down and thrust her chest out when we approached. “Mr. Grabano, that was quick,” she commented.

  “Yeah, I was just down the street when you called. Thank you again,” I pulled out my wallet and fished out three one hundred dollar bills for her.

  “Anytime,” she said with a smile.

  We crossed the lobby to the elevators. I paced in front of them while we waited. Between the Feds, Anthony’s murder and now Natalie leaving, my mind was in overdrive.

  Immediately upon entering my condo, I grabbed an RF reader from a bottom drawer in the kitchen and gestured for Leo to stay quiet as I did a sweep for listening devices and cameras. I hated being paranoid, but Johnny had convinced me to take these precautions so I invested over five grand in equipment. Nothing registered on the machine that looked like a walkie talkie so I tossed it back in the drawer. I grabbed a beer and told Leo to help himself then sat down on the leather sofa.

  “What’s the plan, Dom?”

  “Once Joey has tracked down Marcus, we’re going to pay him a visit. Find out if he’s responsible for the hit on Anthony.”

  “Think he’ll talk?” he asked.

  “Joey and I can be very convincing,” I said and cracked my knuckles.

  It didn’t take long for Joey to get a location for Marcus and soon we were all heading toward West Philly in a beat up Chevy van. Joey drove and Leo sat in the passenger seat while I sat in the back since it was windowless and not only cut down on making me an easy target, but any street cameras would capture Joey and Leo in the vehicle, not me.

  We drove past opulent fraternity and sorority houses on UPENN’s campus, but that opulence quickly faded to worn out neighborhoods where graffiti dominated alley walls and sneakers hung on electrical wires. Water gushed out from a fire hydrant as kids frolicked in the spray to cool off. A couple of older women, their white hair contrasted sharply against dark skin, sat in the shade of their porches. They watched the kids playing, but they also followed the van’s progress as we rolled past. This was the official neighborhood watch.

  After turning the corner, Joey D. pulled over and parked in a commercial loading zone out front of a row home that had a black man sitting on the bottom step. He instantly went on a
lert when we stopped. When all three of us stepped out of the van, the guy stood up and pulled his gun out from behind.

  “You lost?” he asked.

  “No, we’re here to see Marcus.”

  “You got an appointment?” He moved to block the steps and adopted the typical thug pose with his hands crossed in front of his dick, gun on full display, with his shoulder dropped in a relaxed pose and he narrowed his eyes.

  “Really, it’s going be like that? You know who I am.”

  “Yeah, I know who you are,” he said with a cocky sneer.

  In my peripheral view I saw Joey and Leo edge closer on each side of me and they both had their guns drawn. Whoever this prick was, he needed to check himself.

  “Deshawn knock it the fuck off and let them through,” a deep voice bellowed from inside the house. The guy scowled, but he did what he was told.

  Joey D. went first and Leo brought up the rear. As soon as we in the shade of the porch, my eyes adjusted and I saw Marcus holding the door open. “Come in, Dom. I know why you’re here.”

  We walked into a cloud of smoke that reeked of skunk weed and filled the entire bottom floor in a haze. A pit bull with a heavy studded collar lifted its head then lay back down. The dog was probably just as stoned as the other occupants. Five of Marcus’ men sat around the living room. A bong was on the coffee table as well as a box full of nick and dime bags. An AK-47 and a Glock were also on the table next to a bag of Cheetos.

  “You assholes, get going and make those deliveries,” Marcus said to two guys sitting on the sofa who appeared half asleep. They quickly stood up and grabbed the box. One snatched up the Glock and shoved it in the back of his baggy jeans. “Have a seat,” he gestured to the newly vacated spots.

  “Look, Dom, before you do what you came here to do, I’m not the guy. I heard what went down and already called Demetrius. It wasn’t me.”

  I didn’t say anything, just sat back to observe. Marcus was nervous, but he never broke eye contact with me, which made me think he was telling the truth. His dog shuffled over and bumped his nose against my hand so I gave him some pets. Satisfied, the brindle curled up at my feet, resting his head on the top of my black boot. Marcus’ other men were on alert and equally as nervous, but they stayed silent.