I recognize Fabrizio Demarco. The other guy I do not know, but Agent Shyler identifies him as Agustino DiFero. The note says these two guys were Don Carlo’s top level captains. According to information obtained through INTERPOL, it was Don Carlo’s desire to have Donny take over. This is serious business to these Sicilians who want to respect their boss’s last wishes.
My headache has returned full force. I never had migraines before and attribute it to the end result of being shot. Knowing your partner and friend is trying to kill you doesn’t help cure them very easily either.
I find myself falling asleep in my recliner watching SportsCenter ranting about the Yankees’ pitching staff. I fall asleep almost instantly with my Glock right next to me, awaiting the arrival of the Grim Reaper. Hopefully, I will make it till eight o’clock and can bring Franny up to speed on this dilemma of mine.
I awaken to a knock on the door at eight o’clock sharp. I can hear Franny making funny noises through the door and confirm it is him by peering through the peephole. I am not taking any chances.
I open the door and am happy to see my little brother didn’t come empty-handed. A six-pack of Corona and some cold antipasto are a welcome treat. Franny grabs a can opener and pops open two beers. To my surprise, he has a lime hidden in his front pocket. Franny laughs when I ask him to wash the little green fruit.
“So, what is so important you can’t talk about it at headquarters?” Franny starts off with a bang.
I haven’t thought of a particular way to tell him, so I just blurt it out. “I know who shot me. Brace yourself, this will sting a little.”
Franny sits on a chair in my kitchen and swallows half his Corona. His face shows true concern, unlike anything I have seen in a while.
“Donny is the shooter. And he came back from Italy to finish the job.”
Franny throws back his head and starts to laugh uncontrollably. So, I lay the pictures out on the coffee table for him. He stops laughing, leans forward, and thumps a knuckle on the third picture. “The white Reeboks. That mother fucker. The first few nights when you were in the hospital I stayed in case someone tried to take you out. Over and over again you talked about these white sneakers. Honestly, I thought you were hallucinating. To see this scum wearing those sneakers at the airport is a death sentence.”
Franny is becoming more enraged by the second. I have never understood it but even when he was a kid, Franny wanted to protect his older brother, although in most cases it was always me looking out for him.
“Franny, there is more. The FBI was here this morning with evidence. First is an audio tape of Donny talking about killing me.” I wait for the information to sink in.
Franny is struggling to make sense of all this. It is painful for me to place this burden on my baby brother, but he needs to be brought into this for any chance of me surviving. Franny is up and pacing around my apartment. This information is a lot to take in all at once.
“Matt, please tell me why Donny wants you dead?”
I can’t lie to Franny any longer, and I am violating everything I believe in by telling him the answer to this question. “Franny, do you remember the pedophile, Frank Cipriano?”
“Of course I do. He got what he deserved.”
I swallow loudly to clear my throat. “I was there when Cipriano was killed.” I let a couple of beats pass, and then add, “Donny was the killer.”
In all Franny’s twenty-five years, I have never said anything that made him speechless. I just had. His face turns, and he is now showing me a look of dissatisfaction. It hurts to be on the other side of the ball, especially when it’s your family.
The room is eerily full of silence. Franny finishes his first beer and is shoving a piece of lime into his second. The two of us sit in this web of quiet for what seems like an eternity. I have no idea what Franny is thinking. As a police officer he has an obligation to notify his department of any crimes taking place. He could place me in handcuffs if he wanted to really be legitimate. Franny looks at me after downing half of his second beer in one gulp. I was always impressed with how fast he could pound a brew. The look on his face is impossible to read. Then he takes a breath and surprises the daylights out of me.
“Matt, there is only one way out and that’s to kill Donny. If the feds round him up and he rolls on you, you’re fucked. I will do whatever you want me to do as long as we do this right. No witnesses and no evidence.”
Franny is all I have, and I need him now more than ever. I can’t argue with him because he is right. I never thought the two of us would ever be planning a murder. As disturbing as that is, it is a necessary conclusion.
Franny reaches behind him and draws a small pistol out of his lower back. He holds it close to me, so I can see it lacks serial numbers anywhere. I look at Franny, confused about why he would have a throw away piece. He laughs at me. “What? Do you think Donny is the only one with connections?”
I am shocked but not surprised. As a boy, he always was up to something.
After much discussion, we agree that if the opportunity arises, we will take Donny out. There will be no hesitation. Whatever it takes to kill Donny is our priority. Any means to get the job done will be entertained. Whether it is poison or an axe, the tool doesn’t matter. Franny says he will shadow my every move at work because we are both under the belief Donny will not try anything unless he has me alone. This will complicate the situation for Donny and his cronies.
Franny leaves at around midnight. Before his departure, I show him the pictures of Fabrizio and Agustino again. We aren’t taking any chances since these guys know where I live and who I hang out with socially. It is Franny and me. We are in this together. I couldn’t have been more relieved to have him on my side.
I am cleaning up the kitchen when my cell phone rings a little after midnight. I am surprised to see Cynthia’s number. I pull off a casual “Hello” trying not to sound excited in the least. I might have to thank Donny one day for bringing the two of us together, and I instantly feel guilty for mentioning Cynthia’s name to Donny earlier at the rape scene. I may have put this beautiful girl in trouble.
“Matt, it’s Cynthia. How are you doing tonight?”
“Good,” I answer, surprised she refers to herself only as Cynthia and not Special Agent Shyler.
“Matt, I was wondering if it’s not too late for me to stop by.”
It isn’t easy, but I hold in my eagerness. “Sure, that sounds good, my brother just left.”
“I know. I am parked up the street.”
Chapter Nineteen: Force of Nature
August 29, 2007
I hear the slightest knock on my solid metal door and I know it is her. My body tenses as I turn the knob. Does she have more information on Donny? Cynthia is barely recognizable with her full, blonde hair resting at her shoulders, instead of pulled back in her usual ponytail. She is absolutely stunning, and I can’t move my eyes away from her. Her appearance, along with the few beers in my system, instantly puts me at ease. Even in this state, I can sense that this visit is less about business and more about pleasure.
“What a surprise,” I say, trying to act cool, but know it sounds lame the moment it leaves my lips.
“Hi, Matt, can I come in?”
I move quickly out of her path to let her walk inside the apartment. I can’t help but notice her very short red skirt.
“You’re a lot cuter than your brother, has anyone ever told you that?” she says as she sits down directly in the middle of my brown leather couch, crossing her long, perfectly toned legs over one another.
I immediately realize that she must have been watching, waiting for Franny to leave before asking to see me. I wonder if he saw her. No way. If Franny saw Cynthia, I would hear him howling a mile away.
“To be honest, I have never heard that before and Franny would be crushed for life,” I say, trying to play along with this flirtatious conversation. I sit down next to Cynthia on the couch making sure I am not too close.
I awake the next morning wrapped in a blanket on my couch. It takes a few seconds to remember that Cynthia spent the night in my bedroom. After talking for hours, we decided it was too late for her to drive home to Manhattan.
I get up and walk towards the bathroom. As I begin my morning routine, I am careful to make sure I don’t make too much noise and wake her. I brush my teeth next, followed by a face wash and hair check. I feel confident as I exit the bathroom. I peek into my bedroom and immediately hear the soothing sound of her soft breathing. I stand there for a moment, admiring the view and mentally high-fiving myself at the same time. It is not often that a woman sleeps over at my place. I am proud of myself for being a perfect gentleman and happy nothing serious happened between us. I can tell Cynthia is a lady who respects taking things slow. Our conversation last night touched on everything, from family to work. It’s funny; the only thing we didn’t discuss was my current predicament. How on earth is this incredible woman the least bit interested in messed up me?
She begins to stir and it snaps me back. I can’t help but notice how beautiful and peaceful her sleep is. The complete opposite of mine; I pray I didn’t scream last night.
I turn to look at the clock on my nightstand. It’s 7 a.m. and I have work today. I head into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. As the machine heats up, I start thinking about the day ahead. According to my recollection, I have at least three mobsters planning to kill me, a lunatic rapist lurking around town, and a hot piece of ass waking up in my bedroom. I don’t know which situation scares me more.
Cynthia is up in the other room. She walks out of my bedroom wearing my clothes. They are nothing sexy, just a pair of sweats and a black T-shirt. From what I have seen thus far, Cynthia looks incredible in anything. Even wearing these loose garments draws my attention. She’s pulled her dirty blonde hair back into a tight ponytail.
“How did you sleep?” I ask, as I place her coffee down in front of her, black, just the way she likes it.
“Thanks. I can’t remember the last time I had a slumber party,” Cynthia says, with a small smile forming in the creases on both sides of her mouth.
“Not a problem, it’s been a long time for me too,” I manage to get out, all along thinking about seeing her again.
“I had a fun time last night, Matt. I am hoping we can chat again sometime.”
“Well, dinner would be nice. I think we should eat something before we have a sleepover again.” We both laugh, which helps to take away some of the awkwardness.
Cynthia stands up in front of me, and I greet her with a smile and hug. She squeezes me back just as tight. I am impressed by her strength.
“I have to get ready for work. You have my number, Matt. You better use it.” Cynthia gathers her stuff and heads for the door. I walk behind her, purposely not getting too close.
“I will. Besides, you are wearing my favorite sweatpants. I want them back.” Cynthia smiles and raises her hand to wave as she walks out of my apartment. I close the door behind her. I have a good feeling about this, and I hope I am right.
My mind wanders as I look out my front window and watch the vehicles pass by. I pay close attention to all the parked cars on both sides of the street, looking for occupied vehicles. I watch Cynthia get into her Charger and drive away. I make sure no cars are tailing her before heading to my bathroom. “Time for work, Matt.” I slap myself knowing the day of torture that awaits me.
Chapter Twenty: State of Love and Trust
August 29, 2007
The sun is blazing as I arrive at headquarters. Captain Grassio’s car is in the parking lot. It’s not surprising that he’s here before 9 a.m. since the Kepler evidence that we sent to the lab should be ready this morning. We are all on pins and needles awaiting the word to arrest this scumbag.
My feelings for Donny and his evil intentions linger on the surface of my brain. I know what he is trying to accomplish, and I am coming to grips with what needs to be done. Donny needs to be terminated. I don’t know how or when, but I will protect myself, Franny, and now Cynthia at any cost.
I am already sitting at my desk when Franny arrives, dressed in his street clothes consisting of blue jeans and the newest Ed Hardy tee. His wide smile leads me to believe he has some news. The little prick has something on his mind, but he isn’t talking. I am curious to see how he acts towards Donny when he arrives.
The clock passes nine and quickly makes its way to nine-thirty, with no sign of Donny. Franny and I head for the Captain’s office and find him pacing the room, anxiously awaiting a call from the lab.
“Morning, Cap. How did you sleep last night?”
“I am exhausted; the lab is working twenty-four-seven on this analysis. I am hoping to have the results within the hour.”
“What should we focus on today with regards to Kepler?”
“Well, you and Franny can hang out for most of the morning. The search warrant is almost complete. The district attorney’s office has a new firecracker they are going to assign to us for this case.”
“Sounds good,” I say as Franny and I stand up.
“Matt, one more thing. Donny banged in sick today. He called me last night, but I was too tired to pick up. His voicemail sounded odd to say the least. I think he was out partying but whatever. I don’t know what’s going on with him. Let me know if you hear from him today. That is all.”
“Okay, Cap, we will.”
There is nothing like having a day to relax, even though you’re being hunted like a wild animal. Franny and I drive over to the beach in Rye. Oakland Beach is packed on this ninety-degree morning. Franny and I joke that no one works anymore, especially during the summer. As we walk the boardwalk, which wraps around the beach, our conversation turns to childhood memories. Some of our best ones are of the many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches we ate here. Another treat was digging for the clams. We would walk along the beach with a pail and shovel waiting for the clams to shoot salt water out of the sand. My father used to call them pisser clams because they squirted water out of an ugly black thing. It resembled a penis, and my Dad would steam these clams on the barbecue grill. He used to chase my mother around the backyard after ripping off the black “penis” looking part. She was so grossed out. A few times he would eat it after dipping it in butter. This made all of our stomachs turn. My Dad was a crazy dude when he was younger. These days he is so mellow. Franny and I wonder if we played a part in his personality change or if it was just his age.
We are so used to wearing jeans in this weather that it doesn’t even bother us. Although, a bathing suit at this exact moment would be perfect.
“So, how do you think they will come for you?” Franny wastes no time for bullshit. You have to love him for being so focused.
“I think they will do it at my apartment, a set-up for me when I come home from work. Maybe Donny will try and draw me out with some bullshit emergency while his goons are waiting for me on the outside.”
“You know, Matt, I have a couple of friends that may be of use to us in this situation.”
“The more people involved the more witnesses for me and you.”
“I know these guys—this is something that would take some pressure off us. They are unknowns to Donny and you. I could have them around your apartment on surveillance with no one knowing they were in the area.”
“Who the fuck do you know that I don’t?” I ask, both concerned and intrigued at the same time.
“Let�
��s just say I met them at Westchester Community College and they are of a variety known to us from our heritage.”
“Are you fucking with me, Franny? I don’t even know what you are talking about, but I trust you. I don’t want to know anything about it. Just get it done.”
I sense Franny has something else on his mind. He is giving me that same stupid smile he had on his face when he walked into headquarters this morning. “What else do you want to ask me, little brother?”
“Did you have a good time last night?”
“You little prick! You sat outside my apartment?”
“I was worried about you. It is not every day that a guy finds out the Mob is after his big brother. Imagine my surprise when I see a hot piece of ass make her way into your apartment when I was expecting a couple of Italian goons. That red skirt, Holy Shit! I got a stiffy. You didn’t squirt in your pants, did yah? How much did you pay her?”
“Are you insane? Pay who, for what? Her name is Cynthia,” I say, becoming a little agitated.
“Cynthia? Wait. Come on, as in Special Agent Cynthia Shyler? Wow, Bro, she’s smoking hot. I have to say, I am impressed.”
“Thanks, I guess. Nothing happened, Franny,” I manage to say. I am not known for my pick-up skills and finding a girl like Cynthia is definitely not the norm for me. But then again, life has not been normal for a while now.
“Not the greatest time to bring a girl into your life, but at least she’s packing heat and knows what she is getting into. I’m sure you like her a lot but just be careful. She is a fed first and your friend second. If they put the screws to her and threaten to send her to Alaska, I am sure that she will drop your ass.”
In A Small Town (A Small Town Series Book 1) Page 14
