The Tanner Series - Books 1-11: Tanner - The hit man with a heart

by Remington Kane

  “Take me home, Romeo.”

  Tanner stood, nodded, and followed her out of the warehouse. Twenty minutes later, they were parked in front of the two-story home she once lived in with her brother and father, but which now was hers alone.

  Once inside, Sophia turned and hugged Tanner.

  “I’d be dead if not for you.”

  “Can’t have that,” Tanner said, and Sophia kissed him on the lips.

  When they separated, Sophia reached up and removed the mirrored sunglasses, then gazed into his eyes.

  “I know why you wear these now. They hide the real you.”

  Tanner ran a hand through her long red hair. “Do you like what you see?” Tanner asked, and Sophia smiled and nodded.

  “I think I promised you something for killing Adamo.”

  “You did, but the bastard is still alive.”

  Sophia took his hand and led him toward the stairs, where her bedroom was.

  “We’ll just have to consider this an installment then.”

  At that moment, Adamo was meeting with Frank Richards inside a limousine traveling along the West Side Highway. Richards was not a happy man.

  “I told you not to make any moves before the meeting, and now I learn that you not only attempted to rob that strip club, but you also bungled an attempt to kill Verona’s daughter.”

  “The bitch was riling people up; she kept claiming that I had her father killed.”

  “You did.”

  Adamo shrugged. “Yeah, but she needed to shut up about it.”

  Richards let out a sigh and gazed out at the gray water of the Hudson River. When he looked back at Adamo, he had calmed down.

  “You need to hide until this meeting takes place. Afterwards, I’ll appoint you leader of your family, then later, I’ll place you in charge of all the families. However, from what I’m hearing, you have a civil war on your hands.”

  “Sophia Verona needs to die.”

  “What about your man, Santino, why not send him to kill her?”

  “That’s a good idea, but he’ll need backup. Sophia has found herself a bodyguard named Romeo, he’s also the same asshole that screwed up the robbery of the club last night.”

  “Not that I condone it, but the robbery of the club did have merit, and the fact that it went bad was unfortunate. After the money and guns were planted in his apartment, it would have been a perfect way to not only place Johnny Rossetti in legal difficulty, but it also would have turned his own people against him.”

  “It won’t matter once the meeting is over, but Romeo has to go down for interfering in my business.”

  “Romeo? That can’t be his real name, can it?”

  “I don’t know. He looks like a clown, but he’s a stone-cold killer.”

  “Why do you say he looks like a clown?”

  “He’s got tattoos up and down both arms, spiky blond hair, and wears a leather vest with these tinted, or I guess you’d call them mirrored, sunglasses.”

  “He sounds charming, but send Santino alone. If he succeeds, that’s fine, and if he fails, well then, we’ve one less person that knows our plans.”

  Adamo laughed. “Richards, you were born on the wrong side of the tracks. You look WASP, but you would have felt right at home in the Bronx, where I grew up.”

  “You’re correct; I would thrive in any environment.”

  They arrived back at the truck Adamo had taken from the warehouse during his escape. He stepped from the limo and leaned back in to speak to Richards.

  “I have a place to lie low and I’m not coming out until after the meeting.”

  “We’re very close to getting what we want, so be careful.”

  Adamo sent Richards a wink and then climbed back into the truck. On the seat beside him was a hastily packed suitcase.

  Richards’ limo headed off toward Midtown and Adamo soon followed the same path; however, he was headed for the Holland Tunnel and his safe house in New Jersey.

  Sara got down on her knees and placed flowers atop the grave of Brian Ames, as tears flowed freely from her eyes.

  “Hello, baby.”

  The words were squeezed out of her from a throat constricted by grief, but she gathered herself together, for there was more she needed to say.

  “Tanner is dead, Brian, not by my hand as I’d hoped, but the bastard was sent to hell all the same.”

  The sound of several car doors opening and closing broke her from her thoughts. When she looked up, she saw a young family headed toward a grave on the opposite hill, where they were likely paying their respects to an elder relative who had passed away.

  They were not like her, she, who visited the grave of a young man who was robbed of decades of life, and in his passing, dissolved a piece of her soul.

  After watching the family for a few moments, she spoke again.

  “My ex-partner and my sister, Jenny, they believe that I’m sick, that I’m suffering from depression over your loss and masking it with anger, with thoughts of revenge.”

  Sara made a small shrugging motion. “Maybe they’re right. I thought Tanner’s death would alleviate at least part of the suffering I feel over your loss, but no, it hasn’t changed a thing and you’re still gone.”

  More tears flowed, and she wiped them away.

  “The bastard that sent Tanner to kill you is still alive, but unlike that animal Tanner, Frank Richards has cloaked himself in respectability and lives his life in luxury. I’m not going to kill him, Brian, but I do plan to strip him of everything he holds dear… just as he did to me.”

  Sara grew quiet and became lost in thoughts of Brian, even as she ached from the fact that her memories and her time spent with him were so brief and precious.

  Laughter came from the other hillside, where the family was making their way back to their car.

  Sara turned her head and watched them with envy, for although they had suffered loss, they still had each other to love and to laugh with, and once sorrow for their loss was expressed, they went back to the business of living.

  Yes, she envied them, because she saw no life outside of one where she sought vengeance and doubted that she would ever find peace, even after its attainment.

  125

  Too Legit To Quit

  Saul Adamo’s man, Santino, put away his phone after speaking with his boss and receiving new orders.

  He was to find Sophia Verona and her bodyguard and kill them, and he was to do this by himself, because to bring in anyone else might result in more trouble.

  Bullshit! Santino thought.

  He was being sent off alone to kill two armed and dangerous people, because regardless of the outcome, Saul Adamo would win.

  Saul Adamo, who was hiding like a child in the one place he thought no one could find him.

  Santino knew his days were numbered when Adamo first told him what the meeting was all about, but he hadn’t believed that Adamo or Richards would try to kill him until after that day had passed.

  Well, it looked like he was wrong, just as Adamo was wrong in thinking that no one knew where he was.

  Santino was parked at the St. George Ferry Terminal on Staten Island, and was seated atop the hood of his car, a black Mustang, while watching the lights come on in the towers of New York City, as darkness approached.

  And as he sat there in the dawn of a new night, he came up with a plan of his own.

  Merle and Earl couldn’t remember when they had laughed so much, as Matthew Burns regaled them with his endless stories and encyclopedic knowledge of college football.

  They had eaten charcoal-grilled burgers out on Burns’ patio, drank more whiskey, and then moved back inside the house to watch sports.

  “Boys, I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed myself so much,” Burns said.

  “Us too, but if Earl and I drank like this every day, we’d regret it,” Merle said.

  “I do have a talent for it, don’t I?” Burns said, then he drained another glass of whiskey.

&n
bsp; He refilled his glass, but when he went to do the same with Merle’s, he was waved off.

  “No more, thanks, we gotta drive back to the city.”

  “Screw that, Merle. You boys can camp out here on the sofa and the recliner. Hell, I’ve passed out in that chair more nights than I care to admit, but it’s comfortable as hell.”

  The brothers exchanged glances and shrugged.

  “I guess we’re stayin,’” Earl said, and Burns poured more whiskey.

  Although they had showered together before making love, Tanner and Sophia showered again separately before leaving her house to find Adamo.

  Tanner had been concerned that the fake tattoos would run beneath the spray of water, but they were of top quality and had held up.

  He really hadn’t expected to be playing Romeo for as long as he had, but events had carried him along and he had let them.

  After leaving Sophia’s, they went to Adamo’s apartment, where Tanner was impressed with how quickly Sophia disabled the alarm.

  “If it’s electronic, I’m its master. You should see me when I’m hacking on the computer.”

  “You remind me of a guy that I know.”

  Sophia looked at him askance. “I remind you of a guy?”

  “In skill set only,” Tanner said.

  The apartment was a bust as they assumed it would be, but there were signs that Adamo had packed in haste before leaving.

  “What if he’s flown off somewhere?” Sophia said.

  “He could have, but I doubt it, not with Richards backing his play. It’s more likely that he’ll send someone to kill us and then emerge from his hiding place.”

  “If anyone is hunting us, it’s Santino, the bearded man who was at the restaurant this morning.”

  “I remember him, and the restaurant is the next place we look.”

  “Adamo wouldn’t hide there, it’s even more obvious than here,” Sophia said.

  “It’s obvious, but we have to check.”

  They arrived at the restaurant and found the lights ablaze, while the window that had shattered earlier had been replaced with plywood.

  They entered through the back, while being wary of an ambush. However, when they made their way through the kitchen and into the restaurant, the only thing they found waiting for them was a note, which had been placed atop a stool on a clipboard.

  In block letters written with a marker, it gave the address in New Jersey where Adamo could be found.

  Sophia appeared puzzled. “Are they trying to lead us into a trap?”

  “It could be a trap, or maybe Santino has become sick of his boss and figures he’ll use us to retire him,” Tanner said.

  “I guess we visit New Jersey.”

  “Yeah, and if this is legit, Adamo is about to become a permanent resident there.”

  126

  One Man’s Loss

  “There’s a guy out here to see you, Johnny, says his name is Vance.”

  Johnny Rossetti looked up from the pile of food and beverage invoices on his desk and spoke to the man with the scar standing in the doorway, as loud music rushed in from the club.

  “Send him in, Bull, but frisk him first.”

  “You got it.”

  The door closed, and the pounding beat went to a fraction of what it had been. Seconds later, the door opened again, and Robert Vance stepped in wearing a smile, as he tossed a thumb back toward the club.

  “I may have been premature in saying I’ve outgrown strip clubs, there’s a brunette on stage right now that I could watch dance all day.”

  “Her name is Skye and she’ll dance for you in private if you’ve got three bills to spare.”

  “Three hundred dollars for a lap dance?”

  “She’s the best and gets more requests than anyone. If I had to guess, I’d say she’s got a little money put away, but you didn’t come back here so soon to talk about my dancers. What’s up?”

  Vance smiled. “I’ll get to that, but I believe you said something about coffee the last time we spoke.”

  Johnny chuckled. There was a table in the left-hand corner, with a small refrigerator parked between its legs, while atop it sat a coffeemaker. Johnny went to it and poured coffee into a black ceramic mug. After returning to the desk, he reached into the top drawer, took out an envelope and sat it in front of Vance, but only after placing the coffee cup on top.

  “There’s creamer in the mini fridge, but there’s sugar in that envelope.”

  Vance moved the cup aside, and after looking into the envelope, he stuck it in the side pocket of his jeans.

  “Very sweet, and money well spent, because I’m here to tell you that Richards is setting you up for something.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “It’s a feeling I get every time I hear him dog you to someone. He was on the phone earlier, making calls, and he mentioned you in every conversation. I heard him say, ‘Johnny Rossetti can’t be trusted,’ or ‘Johnny Rossetti is furious over his demotion and I’m afraid he’ll do something to get back at us.’ Words like that, as if he were priming everyone to expect the worst from you.”

  Johnny rubbed his chin as he thought things over. “I’ll keep both eyes open. The next time Richards wants me to go left, I’ll head right.”

  Vance rose from his seat. “It’s getting late, and I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Do that, but watch your back, like you said earlier, Richards cares only for himself.”

  “Until next time,” Vance said, and then he left.

  Johnny picked up his phone and dialed Bull. “The guy that’s leaving the office, have one of your boys follow him.”

  “You got it,” Bull said.

  “One more thing, didn’t I see one of our cops in the club tonight?”

  “Yeah, Detective O’Leary, do you want to see him?”

  “Yes, send him back here.”

  O’Leary arrived about a minute later. He was a middle-aged man with reddish-blond hair and gray eyes. He had been on the take since he was a rookie.

  “What’s up?”

  The coffee cup that Vance had touched was wrapped in a plastic bag. Johnny passed it across the desk to O’Leary.

  “There are two sets of prints on there, mine and someone else’s. I want to know who that someone else really is.”

  “I assume it’s a rush job?”

  “You assume correctly.”

  “You’ll have it tomorrow morning.”

  “Thanks, Sean.”

  O’Leary left, and Johnny leaned back in his seat. Maybe Vance was what he seemed and maybe not, time would tell.

  Jake Garner placed an eye to his peephole and was surprised by what he saw.

  He opened the door to his apartment and smiled. “Sara, this is a nice surprise.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Of course,” Garner said. He was wearing a blue silk robe with black boxer shorts on beneath, as he had been getting ready to go to bed. As Sara passed him, he caught the scent of liquor.

  After closing the door, he turned to ask her if she’d been driving, and she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.

  “Take me to bed, Jake. I’m tired of being lonely and I just want to forget for a while, for just a while.”

  Garner gently disengaged from Sara, but he held her by the arms as he studied her eyes.

  “I think you’re drunk.”

  “Maybe a little, but I’m not so drunk that I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  She dropped her purse, stood on her toes and kissed him again, as one hand pressed against his chest and the other slipped beneath the robe.

  Garner kissed her back as he felt her hand slide beneath the elastic of his boxers. Despite releasing a moan of pleasure, he pushed her away once more.

  “No. As much as I want to, no. You don’t need me to be a lover. Right now, you need me to be a friend.”

  Sara blinked her eyes rapidly and steadied herself. “You don’t want me?”

  “Not
in my bed, not the way you are now. I’d just be using you.”

  “You don’t want me? You, a man who fucks any woman with a pulse?”

  Garner moved closer and caressed her cheek. “You’re not just any woman to me.”

  Sara looked at him with horror, as an idea struck her. “You don’t want to be with me because you think I’m damaged goods, that’s it, isn’t it?”

  “No! Yes, you have problems, you have issues, God knows, but I’ve never thought of you as damaged, and I’ve begun to hope that someday we could be more than friends.”

  “Liar!”

  Sara headed for the door. The swiftness of her movement made her stumble, but she regained her balance, scooped up her purse, and opened the door.

  “Sara, stay and we’ll talk.”

  “Go to hell, Jake.”

  She slammed the door behind her and rushed toward the elevator, which opened as soon as she hit the call button.

  Garner nearly made it inside the elevator, but the doors closed before he could reach her, and Sara shouted to him just as the car began to move downward. “Leave me alone!”

  She reached the lobby, looked up through tears, and saw that the other elevator was moving downward as well.

  She was climbing into a taxi when she saw Garner looking at her through his apartment building’s front doors; he was barefoot, with the robe hanging open and a look of concern on his handsome face.

  After getting into the taxi, she told the cabbie to, “Just drive,” and took a sip from the flask she carried in her purse.

  “Miss, I’ll still need an address.”

  Sara gave it some thought and smiled. “Take me to the Cabaret Strip Club.”

  If Garner didn’t want her, she knew a man who did.

  127

  Would Smell As Sweet

  Mario woke from a bad dream only to find that waking life mirrored it.