Back In Town (A Small Town Series Book 2)

by Marc A. DiGiacomo

  “I don’t know. Who is this? Is this…? Dr. Scavone, Dr. Frank Scavone,” I say, almost one hundred percent certain.

  “Yes it is; and to whom am I speaking?” I want to just hang up, but I feel there is more to this phone call than a simple medical update.

  “This is Detective Matthew Longo, Doctor. I didn’t know Zia Maria was your patient.” I know I have stumbled onto something here worth following up.

  “Oh yes, Detective. No, she is not my patient, but she is my dear friend for many years now,” says the good doctor.

  I’m starting to feel a direct connection to Donny Mello. It’s almost like Dr. Scavone is my new worst enemy. And, truth be told, he is. This cocksucker is working for the Mello family. He is keeping tabs on Zia Maria and is passing the information right back to Donny. My anger is boiling over. My face is red like a beet and my pulse quickens. If I had stayed another minute with Father Murphy, I would have never picked up this phone call. I am destined to see Donny again. I’m starting to feel like this isn’t over. Dr. Scavone is a piece of shit. Thinking back to the Cipriano murder, Dr. Scavone was in charge of the forensic evidence examinations. Not that there was any evidence left behind. But if there was, this scumbag would have withheld it, especially if it belonged to Donny.

  “Well, Doctor, there is no one here but me. Would you like to leave a message? Or how about I give you a message?” There is silence on the other end of line, except for an occasional breath. “Tell Paolo Fretti to go fuck himself!”

  I slam the phone down as hard as I can, shattering the plastic handset. Does Dr. Scavone know Donny’s alias? Fuck it!

  My anger turns to sorrow as I witness Zia Maria’s heart stop, right in front of my eyes. The computer beeps loudly and I hear nurses calling out the code. I kiss Zia Maria’s right hand and make my exit. The hallway is chaotic as nurses and doctors storm the room, desperately trying to save Maria. But she is gone and in a better place. I’m sad for her, but my anger for her nephew is rising by the millisecond. Is Donny going to come to this funeral? If I know my friend at all, he will be there, holding a rose in honor of the woman who raised him.

  Chapter Sixteen: Closing In

  Upon leaving the hospital, I call my brother to meet up as soon as possible.

  “Hey, prick, what are you doing?”

  “Prick, prick, hey what’s up?” Franny says, sounding like he’s coming down with a cold.

  “Franny, are you sick again?”

  “Nah, just a little head cold. Did you hear about Zia Maria?”

  “Yes, she just passed away. I’m at the hospital. We need to talk. I’ll meet you at O’Neil’s in ten minutes.”

  “Matt, I’m still in bed. Can we make it in an hour?” Franny whispers and I immediately catch on to his late morning activity.

  “Are you banging another broad? We have to work today,” I say, knowing my brother better than anyone.

  “Matt, I’ll meet you there in an hour!”

  “How do you fuck these women in the basement of our parents’ house? Don’t you have any decency? Mom needs to come down to do the laundry. She’s going to hear you.” I’m becoming annoyed at my brother’s indiscretion.

  I hang up the phone, not wanting to hear anything more from Franny. This kid brother of mine is always having sex. He is turning twenty-six and should be out on his own, but he doesn’t want to leave my parents’ basement. He has it too good. My mother still makes his bed every morning. Franny always was a momma’s boy as far back as I can remember.

  The drive over to O’Neil’s is relaxing. The autumn air in New York is amazing. The leaves are just starting to turn orange, red and purple. The cool crisp air feels great. I seem to lose myself more often these days while driving my beloved Jeep. I take the long way to places, especially when the weather is beautiful. But when the snow comes the real fun begins.

  There are no cars parked in front of O’Neil’s Tavern. It’s just about noon and I’m hungry. I take a seat at my usual table. An unfamiliar waitress comes over to take my order.

  “Hi, I’m waiting for one more. I’ll have a root beer.” I glance at the front door just in time to catch my kid brother walking in. I give him the bird. I can tell Franny is annoyed.

  “So what the hell is going on? I was going to take the day off,” says Franny. I think he is expecting me to drop another bomb on him. What I have discovered is hard to contain.

  “Franny, I was with Zia Maria as she passed. Her heart stopped right in front of me. But I spoke with somebody on the phone who called to check in, obviously on behalf of someone else.” I had his attention now.

  “Was it Donny, or Paolo, or whatever he goes by now.” Franny is getting hot.

  “It was Dr. Scavone. That son of a bitch is working for Donny. He fudged the reports to make sure that Donny’s faked death went super smoothly.” Franny’s expression changes from agitation to complete craziness. My brother is still looking for some payback for my shooting. He just needs a target, and I may have found the perfect one. I’m not letting him do anything alone, especially if it involves this corrupt doctor of death.

  “What do you want to do?” Franny is jumping at the bit for some action.

  “Well, first I want him to admit he’s connected to Donny, by any means necessary. He must have received a nice suitcase of cash to leave his job so quickly. I heard he just bought a place down in Naples, Florida. But we need to nail his ass right here in Hutchville.”

  My thoughts are racing in circles. We need to come up with a plan of attack. The doctor lives in town. Luckily, he is unmarried and has no children. He lives alone, which makes our plan of attack simpler. Fewer witnesses.

  “Plus, if we do this thing right, it will send a clear message to Donny.” Franny is almost whispering now. If we are planning to hurt the doctor, we don’t want anyone to overhear us. My cell phone vibrates wildly on my left side. I recognize headquarters’ number.

  “Hello.”

  “Detective, where are you?” I can tell this is a serious call and not a jaywalking complaint.

  “What’s wrong, kid?”

  “Captain Grassio had a heart attack. He’s over at White Plains Hospital in the emergency room. His wife Jen called looking for you.”

  “Call you back,” I said, motioning to Franny.

  “The boss had a heart attack. We gotta go.” I leap out of my seat, throwing a twenty dollar bill on the table. I call headquarters back and arrange for the sector car to pick us up. I’m ecstatic that Chris Finley is working.

  Out in the distance somewhere we can hear a police siren wailing and beeping. Within thirty seconds our ride has arrived, stinking of burning brakes. Franny jumps in the back and I get in the passenger seat.

  “Thanks, Chris. Now head to the hospital like your life depended on it.” I know damn well Chris is the right man for this transport.

  “Matt, all we know is he collapsed at his house. Scotty was there within a few minutes which is probably why he’s still alive.” Chris is talking fast, darting in and out of traffic. His nerves get the better of him as I smell a gassy odor.

  It only took six minutes to get to the hospital. Franny and I thank Chris, who is wanted back in town for the rest of his tour. The emergency room is packed with people. Chief Ramsey is there sitting on a couch, rocking back and forth. I go right to him.

  “Chief, any word?” I’m starting to tear up.

  “Matt, they took him in to surgery. That’s all we know. Go say hello to Jen. She really needs a hug.” The chief is visibly upset. He loves Captain Grassio like a son.

  “Hi, Jen, how are you holding up? If you need anything, Franny and I are here for you and your family.” I speak softly, the tears dripping from my eyes. The captain is my friend before anything else. He’s the reason I was promoted to detective.

  “Thanks, Matt. What do I tell the kids?” Jen dabs the water drops from her pretty blue eyes.

  “You tell them their dad is going to be fine. I don’t know a t
ougher guy than your husband.” I give Jen a hug.

  It’s so weird. My second stint in the hospital today. Captain Grassio is in great shape and is an avid long distance runner. I would see him jogging everywhere, no matter what the weather was like. Nothing stopped him. But a heart attack could, I guess. The minutes turn quickly into hours, and eventually a doctor emerges, looking for Jen. Everyone stands, eyes wide, waiting for him to speak.

  “He’s stable, Mrs. Grassio. He’s up in the ICU. Would you like to follow me to his room?” As Jen walks off with the doctor everyone in the waiting room quietly exchanges hugs and heads for the doors. The last thing the boss needs is twenty people storming his room. But Franny and I hang around. We don’t have a ride. I’m relieved for the moment that the captain is going to be okay. I head towards the water fountain, but a big rat catches my eye.

  “Hey, Franny, look who it is.” Now I know damn well our ride is here.

  “Jackpot!” Franny is just as excited as me.

  Dr. Frank Scavone is hurrying towards the parking garage elevators. He’s moving with pep in his step, like he wants out of here. Franny and I take the stairs to the lower level. We have a fifty percent chance of being on the right floor. Tonight is our night for some entertainment. The kind that would make most people cringe.

  Dr. Scavone heads towards his car. The parking garage is quiet and I make certain to elude the surveillance system. Luckily, I have a dark jacket with a hood that makes my face almost impossible to recognize. Franny pulls his baseball cap low to his eyes. Dr. Scavone beeps his car alarm. The green Mercedes-Benz convertible flashes its headlights. I make the first move by throwing the doctor to the ground. I open up the driver door, move the driver seat up, and toss the doctor into the backseat. Franny is already waiting in the cozy back seat for the package. I take the wheel and turn on the ignition, quickly scanning the lot for witnesses. I back out of the parking space and head for the exit. Fortunately, we don’t have to pay for parking because the gate is open. Franny has the doctor position his head down in his lap. I’m sure he figures he was just carjacked, but he would never expect this ride to end up at his home.

  “What’s this about? You’re hurting my neck.” The doctor tries to move but Franny applies more pressure.

  “Shut the fuck up, you rat bastit,” Franny fires back.

  Stoneleigh Avenue is a tree-lined street of beautiful homes in Hutchville. The affluent area represents the quintessential American family neighborhood. This part of Hutchville is known for expansive homes with large front porches and white picket fences, perfectly positioned next to each other. Dr. Scavone’s house is the nicest on the street. I pull into number 351 Stoneleigh Avenue and park in the driveway. There are no lights on inside the home. I feel surprisingly calm, the opposite of my normal self. I never worry about Franny. He’s the best wing man, even if we are about to commit the unthinkable.

  In total darkness, we enter through the rear of the home. I’m surprised Frank isn’t asking why we are at his residence. Franny handcuffs Scavone to a wooden chair in a small dining room with the worst pink wall paper I have ever seen. It is so “country”; but the doctor’s taste is obviously modern, judging by the style of furniture in the room. I slowly raise the dimmer on the hideous dining room chandelier.

  “Hey, Frank, I won’t even call you a doctor, you piece of shit.” I make eye contact with this prick.

  “Detectives, what is this about? What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dr. Scavone screams, becoming more agitated when he recognizes Hutchville’s finest standing before him. Franny slaps him square in the face. The backhand bursts open his lip.

  “Hey, Frank, I am not going to bullshit you, so I hope you don’t lie to us. If you’re honest we’ll leave and let you go. You can go cry and call the police, but no one will believe you, because we are the police.” I speak softly, not wanting to make the situation worse. I don’t need Franny flipping out before I get the answers I need.

  “Now, Frank, why did you call for Donny’s aunt today? Remember, be truthful.”

  “I heard she had a stroke so I called to check on her. I saw her at the funeral and she looked weak, that’s all.”

  Frank Scavone is clearly lying. His eyes are all over the place, and he never makes eye contact with me. The sweat on his brow is another sign of his deception. Franny is definitely the hot head between us, but even Franny’s eyes bulge when I draw my Glock and place the barrel in the mouth of this pig doctor.

  “Now, Frank, I’m going to take my gun out of your mouth, but if you bullshit me again, I’m going to kill you. Please, I really don’t want to shoot you. I already know the answer to the question, so I’m begging, no, pleading for you to tell me a name.”

  For a second it looks like Frank may go down. His eyes roll around in their sockets. They shift back to meet mine. He seems quick to grasp the situation.

  “Donny,” Frank said, “Donny Mello.”

  Franny smiles at me, takes a thirty-eight caliber revolver from his ankle and puts it to Frank’s head. Frank has shit himself. The smell is unmistakable. My anger is unrelenting. I’m almost beyond reason. But I’m hoping to hold out for more information before I kill this frigging guy.

  “Frank, you made Donny a ghost. You made him even more dangerous. Is the money worth it? How long have you been working for him?” I can see that Frank has had enough.

  “Only recently. I didn’t have a choice. Donny has my mother in Italy. He told me she would be raped by a hundred men if I didn’t do this. She is ninety years old and I believed him. Wait. There’s a guy here in Hutchville. His name is Sal, Sal Bruno. He works for Donny. I had to report to him about Zia Maria. I was on my way to call him, to tell him about Maria’s passing, but you guys got to me before I could. He’s going to meet me to give me some money, a measly twenty grand.”

  “Doc, I can understand. Donny has you by the balls. I get it and I even feel for you. So this is what is going to happen now. Frank, you’re going to call this Sal guy and have him come here to drop the money off. Franny and I will hide. Don’t try anything, or we will hurt you. Make the call. We will take care of Sal.”

  “Hey, Doc, if you run I will shoot you right in your ass,” Franny says, not smiling at all. I can tell Franny wants to shoot somebody. I think the doc would have been dead by now, had he not spilled the beans on Donny. Knowing Donny like I do now, his mother is already getting gang raped; or may even be dead. You can’t make a deal with Donny; he is the ultimate back stabber. Dr. Scavone picks up his house phone and makes the call. The sweat on his forehead tells the story of a man scared out of his mind, as does his crusty underwear. I don’t know if he is more afraid of us or Sal. I have a feeling Sal will be coming over here to kill Doctor Scavone. Why part with the twenty grand when you can keep it for yourself and make up some bullshit excuse? Donny is thousands of miles away; or is he?

  “Hi, Sal. Yes it’s me. Zia Maria has passed on. Can we meet at my house? I’m not feeling so good. Okay.” Frank returns the receiver to its cradle.

  Dr. Death is right to feel a sense of dread. He seems to be preparing for the worst. But I have no intention of killing him. Not after learning the truth. He’s just another pawn in Donny’s web of deception. I’m a little shocked to still be here. What am I going to do with Sal? I can’t arrest him for anything. The look on Franny’s face says it all. My brother is going to shoot someone tonight. The twenty minutes that pass feel like three hours. The three of us sit in the living room in complete silence. I’m on the floor with my back against a leather sofa that has seen better days. Franny is working the windows like a peeping tom. I’m listening for the sound of a car door closing. My mind is clear. My eyes are closed tight. This is something I have perfected, spending hours in the woods listening for the sounds of a deer on the move.

  My ears pick up a noise from the front yard. I hear feet slapping the pavement. I open my eyes, certain Sal has arrived and is casing the house. I signal to Franny, who moves tow
ards the living room front window and drops to his knees. The room is only illuminated by one small, table side lamp. There’s no way Sal can see us on the floor unless he is twelve feet tall. The screen door creaks open slowly. There is a light knock on the back door. I hear the door knob turn and I draw my duty Glock. Franny and I both make our way behind the couch. From Franny’s vantage he has a clear eyeball on Scavone. My eyes are on the kitchen and watch a silver revolver enter the living room, followed by a left arm. The gun is aimed directly at Frank. I watch as the left arm enters the room, followed by a huge target: Sal’s head. I fire first. I don’t have time to say, “Police! Don’t move.”

  My shot goes off at the same time as the assailant’s. He fires one more time as he falls to the ground. I know my bullet burrowed into his skull. The forty caliber hollow point exploded out of the back of his head, causing instant death. I hear choking coming from the couch. I silently pray it isn’t my brother. Dr. Scavone is mortally wounded. It took a few seconds to comprehend what had just happened. I ran to my brother to make sure he wasn’t hit. Franny is upright, using the back of the sofa as cover. He isn’t much calmer than me. But, then again, Franny has never been in a shooting before now.

  I leap to my feet, grab the house phone and call 911. I’m happy to hear a familiar voice on the other end of the line. It’s comforting to hear the alarm blaring in the background as Benny dispatches the ambulance. When I tell Benny about shooting the assailant, he asks who he should call. Since Captain Grassio is in the hospital there is only one other supervisor to call, Chief Tim Ramsey. I hang up the phone, not concerned at all about killing Sal. Franny’s face tells me everything he is thinking.

  “Franny, we came for what we need. I have no intention of hurting the doctor even if he is a rat. He deserves medical care.”

  “Bro, he’s a piece of shit. Let me put him out of his misery. How are we going to explain this to the chief?”