Tax Cut

by Michele Lynn Seigfried

  “How can you be the don of the Righetti family when you’re not a Righetti?”

  “Oh, look, she’s catching on,” Dingo said condescendingly. “My grandfather passed down the reins to me.”

  “So your mother was a Righetti,” I said, trying to buy myself more time to figure out a plan.

  Dingo clapped his hands together three times, saying, “Bravo. But I thought you would have figured that out when you went to see my Aunt Babs.”

  “Babs never mentioned you. She only talked about her nephew Gino.”

  “Oh yes, Gino. The golden child. The one with the good looks. Well, Gino may have been good looking, but Nonno Righetti knew I was the one with the good business sense.”

  “But the rumors had it that Rocco passed the reins to Gino after his death.”

  Dingo let out another bark of laughter. “Rocco was my right hand for many years. He got careless. People only thought he was the don.”

  “If you are the don, then why are you working as a tax collector?”

  “Chelsey, you sound like you don’t believe me. You shouldn’t question the man with the gun. His finger may slip and…pow!”

  I back peddled. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. I meant I thought you wouldn’t need a job as a tax collector for money.”

  “It was all part of my plan to keep an eye on things and to remain unsuspecting.”

  “Where is Vinny?”

  “If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.” The evil laughter continued out of Dingo’s wide-open mouth. “I’m going to kill you anyway, so I guess I can tell you that my men better have already taken care of Vinny like they should have the first go round.”

  Still trying to buy more time to get myself out of this mess, I continued the conversation. “Since I’m dead anyway, may I ask if the fire at the beach club was your handiwork?”

  “Ingenious, wasn’t it? I didn’t realize so many of my problems would be taken care of at once.”

  “And this is all so that you can create the Village Pier?”

  “Oh, the light bulbs went on, finally, huh?”

  “I happen to love the idea of the Village Pier. The hotels, casinos, shops, and housing. You stand to make a ton of money.”

  “I don’t ‘stand’ to do nuthin’. I am going to make millions and nobody is gonna get in my way.”

  “Understood. That’s why you had to take care of that couple and that man who turned up dead on the beach…what was his name? Eugene Craft.”

  “I didn’t have to take care of anyone. I have associates. I’m not a killer. I’m more of a king. I give directions. I keep my hands clean.”

  King of Insanityville. I thought. I couldn’t believe this was happening. It was beyond surreal. It was like I was in the middle of a movie or a bad dream. My fear had dissipated as I carried on the conversation with Dingo. I wasn’t sure if it was my instincts, the knowledge that I had nothing left to lose, or just acceptance of my fate. It seemed as though the Universe was gunning for me. I kept looking for a way to escape, but there didn’t seem like there was any possibly I’d make it out alive.

  “Mitchell Johnson, another person who went missing. Was that your ‘associates’ as well?” I asked.

  “You are quick.”

  “And the mortgage company? Is that yours also?”

  “So, you did discover the mortgage company.”

  “Yes, I know that the bribe money is being laundered through the mortgage company. Are you buying votes for your project?”

  “Boy, Chelsey. I had you pegged right the first time; I knew you were pretending not to know anything.”

  “The truth is, Dingo, that I had absolutely no idea you were involved until I saw you right here, right now. You amaze me. You’re brilliant.”

  “Are you being sarcastic?”

  “Absolutely not. I’m serious. I admire your ambition.” What could I lose? Maybe if I butter him up, he’ll let me live. He looked at me, confused. Dingo didn’t know much about me. I had barely spoken to him during the time I worked in Coral Beach.

  “What you had said at the staff meeting, about redevelopment, that was so that Righetti Brothers could be the developer and get the tax abatement?” I asked.

  “Yeah, and your point?”

  “That’s what I mean when I say I think you’re brilliant. No one else would have ever come up with that. It’s ingenious. Look, I know you think I somehow got in the way, but I quit the job at Coral Beach. I couldn’t stand Marc or Winifred, and I had this resident stalking me. So, I really won’t be in your way. I’m not even putting the job on my résumé. As far as I’m concerned, I never met any of you and I don’t know a darn thing.”

  Moments later, crash! For the second time in a month, a body came crashing through the ceiling, barely missing me. Nero lay on the floor, motionless. Dingo barely reacted. He looked down at Nero, then up at the ceiling. I, on the other hand, flipped out a little. I guess I momentarily forgot that I wasn’t in my own office with Nero stalking me again.

  “What the eff, Nero?” I yelled.

  Nero rolled on his side and placed his hand on his spine. “Oh, my back,” he groaned.

  “Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time you fell through a ceiling?”

  Nero groaned a little more.

  “Who is this moron?” Dingo asked.

  “He’s my stalker,” I said to Dingo. I looked back at Nero. “How did you know where I was?”

  “My back,” Nero whined.

  “You little rat,” I said to Nero. I felt like kicking him, but I controlled the urge. It occurred to me that he must have found a way to put a video camera in my house, like he did with Winifred and Marc. I was angry and happy at the same time. Angry that Nero was stalking me in my own home and happy that I suddenly wasn’t in this alone.

  “Enough!” Dingo yelled angrily. I jumped. I guessed I was never very good at talking my way out of a hairy situation. The fear slowly crept back into me as I realized I was doomed.

  “Eenie, meanie, miney, moe,” Dingo said, pointing his gun back and forth, Nero then me, Nero then me.

  “Say ‘goodnight,’ Chelsey Alton.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. My heart rate increased until I could hear my heart pounding against the walls of my chest. I squeezed the arms of the chair so tightly, my fingers hurt.

  The sound of the door being forced open and the footsteps of a dozen men rushing past me were music to my ears. Shouting came next. “FBI. Freeze! Dingo Malvagio, you’re under arrest!”

  I sat quietly in a daze. It took me a moment to realize what was happening. I couldn’t believe I was saved. The handcuffs went on Dingo and he was carried out of the door. EMS ran to Nero’s side. Through the fogginess in my brain, I heard my name being called frantically, “Chelsey? Chelsey?” I looked around the crowd of men and saw someone rush through the door. It was Bryce. He was dressed head to toe in black, with the letters POLICE prominently in white on his back. He was wearing a bulletproof vest and a belt filled with typical police gear—handcuffs and guns. I was still sitting in the chair. I hadn’t been able to make myself move. At the moment, I wasn’t truly able to comprehend what was happening. My brain was mush from the stress of the situation. He ran toward me, wrapped his arms around my waist, lifted me out of the chair, and hugged me. I collapsed in his arms, fully spent, and cried like a baby. With my arms around his neck, he reached down, picked me up, and carried me out to an ambulance.

  Before he left me with the paramedics, he gently took my face into his hands, looked into my eyes, and said, “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Chelsey.” He leaned in and softly kissed my lips, then continued on with what I assumed was police business.

  * * *

  The following week was a blur to me. I discovered that Nero had indeed been watching me on video, but I wasn’t angry about it any longer. He drove over to my place when he saw Vinny carrying me in passed out. He arrived as the goons were breaking in. He notified the police when he sa
w I was kidnapped, and followed their cars. He called Animal Control while he was tailing the cars, and he got them to make arrangements for Snickers to get emergency veterinary care. For those reasons alone, I would always be indebted to him. Nero was also able to provide video to the police of what happened at my house, making for undisputable evidence for kidnapping charges.

  I learned that week that Vinny was safe and sound. It turned out that the FBI knew immediately when Vinny went AWOL from the witness protection program and they were tracking his moves, which enabled them to rescue him before he was harmed. With Vinny being alive, and being a star witness for some of the illegal activities of the Righetti’s, I was off the hook for having to testify, for now anyway. There was enough evidence to lock them all up for a very long time, so I didn’t have to live in fear of Dingo and his clan trying to silence me.

  It was also revealed to me that the police would have saved me sooner, but Dingo’s personal mob office, which was where I was taken to, was bugged and valuable evidence was being gathered through the conversation I had with Dingo. Charges for murder, attempted murder, bribery, money laundering, arson, and racketeering, in addition to kidnapping, would likely be easier to prove the way Dingo incriminated himself unknowingly.

  Arrests were made—the mobsters, the politicians, the planning board members. Bail was denied for a few of the bigger criminals. The others were bonded out, and awaiting the day they’d get to “tell it to the judge,” so to speak.

  Lastly, I realized that Bryce wasn’t who he said he was. Bryce was an undercover officer, not a tax assessor, although he had the training as an assessor in preparation for his assignment. He had been working to get enough proof about the bribery and money laundering scandal. He already knew some of what I knew. I wasn’t sure what was going on before I started working for Coral Beach that caused the police to put an undercover officer in that position, but perhaps they were onto Dingo and were waiting for a way to prove he was involved in the corruption somehow.

  Chapter 21

  The goldfinches sang beautifully outside my window. It was April and spring was here. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel stressed about what had happened to me. Instead, I felt strong. I had survived. I had my life, my daughter, my family, and my dog. I was determined not to let anything get in my way of living life to its fullest, beginning with being home to watch my daughter grow up. I still had enough savings to make do for a few years until she started school.

  Kris had been calling me daily for the past week. I loved hearing his voice on the phone every day. It was what I had wanted for months. He called early on this particular morning.

  “Hey!” he said.

  “Hey, yourself!”

  “What are you up to tonight?”

  “Oh, I have a hot date with my DVR.”

  “Well, how would you like to have your date at my place? I’m sure I can find something interesting for you to watch on TV.”

  “Well, if you insist…”

  “Kris, Jr. is going to his grandparents’ house for the evening. Come over at seven. Come hungry.”

  “Well, alrighty, then!”

  We hung up the phone. I had all day to spend with my beautiful Mandy. I realized it was opening day at the amusement park in Coral Beach. Left unscathed by the fire, I decided to take Mandy. Lines this time of year were minimal. The forecast was in the seventies and sunny. It was the perfect day for an outdoor adventure.

  I fed Mandy breakfast, then got her dressed. I threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and grabbed our jackets. I buckled Mandy into her car seat and took off for the park. After arriving, we paid for admission and headed inside the gates. Mandy’s eyes were wide with excitement. Mandy hadn’t yet been able to ride on any kiddie rides. She had grown tall enough over the winter to meet the thirty-six-inch height requirement, so she could ride to her little heart’s content…or until she wore me out, whichever came first.

  The airplane ride was her first. She giggled and shrieked, “Wheee!” the whole ride. The teacups, the kiddie cars, the elephant ride, the dragon, and the choo choo train followed. We ate chicken nuggets and French fries for lunch. Mandy pulled my arm over to the arcade, where we played skeeball and won a stuffed giraffe from a claw machine. I promised her a vanilla ice cream cone, but the soft-serve machine at the park was broken. Mandy looked up at me with her big eyes and said, “Eyes cream, pees!” How could I resist that sweet little face?

  “C’mon, Mandy, let’s drive over to the ice cream place near Grandmom’s and Grandpop’s house,” I said. I walked Mandy in her stroller, back to the car, then loaded her in. As I drove through Coral Beach on my way into Sunshine, I purposely avoided the fire-ravaged area. It was too depressing and I had worked hard over the past week to forget everything that had happened. Driving past that area would have evoked more pain than I wanted to deal with.

  I pulled up into a parking space along the curb, almost directly in front of the ice cream shop. I pulled Mandy out of her car seat, and held her hand as we walked together through the front door. Mandy ordered a vanilla cone with sprinkles and I ordered a small frozen yogurt in a cup. I grabbed a handful of extra napkins and we sat on a bench outside to enjoy our treats. Mandy looked up at me again.

  “Yum,” she said.

  “Yum,” I said.

  “I wuv you, Mommy,” Mandy said.

  My heart melted. “I love you too, Mandy.” I grabbed a napkin and wiped away the vanilla drips down her chin. I was startled by a voice.

  “Hi.”

  I turned around and saw a familiar face. “Hi, Bryce. How are you?”

  “It seems that I should be asking you that question.”

  “Hi,” Mandy said with a wave of her small hand.

  “Well, hello there. And what is your name?”

  “Mandy.”

  “Well, aren’t you a beautiful little lady. Can I taste that ice cream cone?”

  “No!” Mandy said sharply.

  “No? Should I go get my own?”

  “Go!” Mandy said, pointing to the door of the ice cream parlor.

  “Well, then, I’ll go,” he said. Bryce stepped inside and returned five minutes later with a chocolate cone and a stuffed cow.

  “This little guy needs a home. Do you think you want to take him with you?” he said to Mandy.

  “Uh huh,” Mandy said. I smiled. Bryce was charming…even with kids.

  “May I join you?” Bryce asked me.

  “Sure,” I said.

  He took a seat on the bench, next to Mandy.

  “I see your tire’s all fixed,” he said.

  “Yup. They were able to fix it without me having to buy a new one.”

  “I’m sorry I had to lie to you about who I really was.”

  “Is your name really Bryce?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “How could you keep your name if you were undercover?”

  “My last name is Kelly, not Coach.”

  “Oh,” I said.

  I’m not exactly sure why, but it seemed like you could cut through the air with a knife, the tension was so thick. I wasn’t sure if it was me. Perhaps Bryce was a reminder of what had happened to me. Or a reminder that I had worked at yet another job from hell. But at the same time, I was drawn to him. However, that complicated things for me. I was with Kris. Kris was calling me every day. Bryce hadn’t called me at all.

  “I was worried about you,” Bryce said.

  “Oh? I hadn’t noticed,” I said with a hint of sarcasm.

  “I would have gotten in touch with you. I just wasn’t sure if I should.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t sure if you were recovering from your ordeal. Or if you were mad at me for having to lie to you.”

  “I’m not mad. You were just doing your job.”

  “So how are you doing, really?”

  I pondered the question for a moment, thinking of the day I had with my daughter and the date I had scheduled for tonight and I sm
iled. “I’m actually doing great, considering...” I said.

  “C’mon, Mandy. Time to say bye-bye.” I looked at Bryce. “Sorry, we’re running late.”

  “No problem. It was great to see you.”

  “Nice to see you too,” I said as I picked up Mandy and placed her back into the car. I started the engine and drove away. I looked into the rear view mirror as I left, and I saw Bryce had watched us drive away. I sort of wanted to stop and say something more to him, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say. I felt like I was leaving something good behind.

  I brushed it off and continued to my parents’ house. They were beyond thrilled that I was out and about. I think they thought I’d curl up into a deep depression, as I had been known to do in the past. But I wasn’t going to do that ever again. I felt stronger than I ever had before in my life. I was a survivor and I was going to take every special moment that happened and savor it. I learned that life could be cut short at any given moment and I wasn’t about to waste another minute of my life taking things for granted.

  “What time is your date?” my mom asked.

  “It’s at seven.”

  “Do you want to eat dinner, then? We have plenty.”

  “No, that’s okay. I have to go home and get changed now and Kris said to come over hungry, so I’m assuming dinner is included in my date tonight.”

  I rushed home in order to get ready. I was extremely excited. The last time I saw Kris, he kissed me so passionately it made my knees go weak. The thought of his kiss and what it did to me…I almost embarrassed myself thinking about it.

  I grabbed a quick shower, then dried my hair, parting it to one side. I put on a full face of makeup, which was unusual for me. I was normally a minimalist when it came to makeup—concealer, blush, and eyeliner was my typical look. Tonight was going to be special, so I added pink lipstick, mascara, and eye shadow color to the regimen. I wiggled into a little black dress. Silver jewelry, slate-gray heels, and a matching purse completed my look.

  I gave myself a once-over in the mirror. This was what Bonnie meant when she said I should be a sex kitten. She couldn’t accuse me of being a mouse tonight—I cleaned up well. I locked up the house, got into my car, and plugged Kris’ address in to the GPS. He was a twenty-minute drive away.