Stories by Kiera Dellacroix

by Dellacroix, Kiera

  "Could you turn that down, please?" I had to yell to make sure he heard me.

  He gave me a blank look and rolled his window back up. A second later, the music stopped and I gave a nod of thanks. My eyes dropped to my open pants and I sighed as I buttoned them back up. The thrill was gone.

  Suddenly, every window in the car started shaking violently from a fresh barrage of ghetto fabulous jams and I jumped a little in my seat, barely suppressing a startled yelp. In the distance, I could see traffic beginning to move, and I turned an irate look on my wannabe gangsta neighbor. Impulsively, I put the shitcar in reverse and backed up a few inches to get the correct angle. When I was in position, I slid across the dilapidated bench of my front seat and opened the passenger door a crack. Busta Rhymes was into his music and making a production of not looking in my direction, so I turned sideways and leveled a powerful kick into my open door. I was rewarded with the satisfying sound of crumpling metal and I reached out to pull my door closed, smiling at the enormous dent I had created in the superfly cherry red Monte Carlo.

  He gaped at me in disbelief and I slid back over to sit behind the wheel, lighting a smoke and shooting him a smile. I watched with supreme amusement as he pounded on the window in a useless attempt to open his creased door. I couldn't hear what he was saying and didn't know how to read lips, but it wasn't hard to spot multiple variations of the word 'fuck'.

  Am I a bigot? Hell no! Am I guilty of occasionally preying on cultural differences? I can't deny it, but then again, who isn't? If the situation had been reversed and I had pulled up next to Snoop Dogg blaring Frank Sinatra loud enough to be heard in the next county, do you think he would've had politically correct things to say about me? Grow up. It's sad fact of life but unfortunately, everyone is equally worthless. Including me.

  The car ahead of me began to move, and I shot the Fresh Prince a happy wave as I pulled away. A few minutes later, the shitbox was up to speed and I took the next exit. Coming to the decision to give Stephanie a reprieve and visit the next person on my list, the only one I didn't consider a suspect and someone I was actually looking forward to seeing.

  Joseph Vendito was a Sirico family capo and Gus's best friend, despite the obvious clashing of career choices. It was kinda funny when you thought about it, but Gus had lived in the same neighborhood pretty much his whole life. A middle class neighborhood that both the police force and the mob recruited heavily from. A little section of America that had grown up attending the same schools and churches, reaching adulthood yet remaining friends that opposed each other in the eyes of the law. Growing up with Gus, I had attended more than one wedding or event that had been populated with both cops and robbers. In fact, I called Joseph Vendito, Uncle Joey.

  Joey owned a malt shop and, as a kid, I spent many an afternoon a fixture in his establishment. Frequently waiting there after school for Gus to come and pick me up, playing cards or dominoes with the goodfellas until he showed. I smiled fondly and goosed the accelerator a little, Joey had always been good for a sundae and I hoped he still was.

  ----------

  The little malt shop was your typical family storefront business, and I had to put change into a meter to park on the street. I really needed to get a new car, my hands were so cold I had trouble separating the required coins, and afterward, I hurried down the sidewalk to get inside.

  The door opened with an old fashioned chime and the interior was warmly inviting. Joey wasn't in view and the only people inside were two goons that I didn't recognize playing checkers near the back, and a guy about my age behind the counter who spoke to me.

  "Can I help you?"

  "Is Joey here?"

  One of the goons stood up. "Who's asking?"

  I turned to face him. "Maddie Ledoux."

  "Is he expecting you?"

  "No, but I'm sure he'll see me."

  "Why is that?"

  I pointed to a section of wall behind him. "That's me in those pictures."

  The goon turned to look and then gave me a quick once over. "Wait here."

  I nodded and walked over to look at the photos when he ambled through a door in the back. Pictures lined every available inch of wall space in the little shop, snapshots of the places and people that had touched Joey's life over the years. My eyes grew a little moist at the photographs of Gus, and I smiled at one Joey had taken himself of both of us together at my college graduation. There was one of me standing in a flight suit in front of my helicopter and another in police uniform when I graduated from the academy. Joey even had one of the rare photos taken of me in a dress when I was Maid of Honor at his daughter's wedding. I risked a quick glance around and swiftly wiped at my eyes when I was sure nobody was looking.

  A voice boomed from behind me. "Maddie, get your ass over here and give me a squeeze."

  I turned around and smiled widely. The dark featured Joey resembled Gus in a lot of ways, as both were huge, brawny men that were quick to laugh and cut up but fierce and dangerous if riled. Physically, I always felt like a dwarf around them, and mentally the pair of them had the ability to make me feel like little kid. I practically skipped across the room to enter his embrace.

  "Hi, Joey," I mumbled into his chest.

  He let me go and ruffled my hair affectionately. "I'm damn glad to see you. You've been keeping to yourself lately, been about six months if I remember right."

  "Yeah, it has," I said apologetically.

  "Well, let's get you fixed up so we can go in the back and shoot the shit," he said with a knowing smile and turned to the guy behind the counter. "Fix me up a double vanilla sundae."

  "With two cherries," I added childishly, barely stifling the impulse to tug on his sleeve excitedly.

  He chuckled. "You heard her. Two cherries."

  The guy turned to prepare my ice cream and Joey leveled a look at the goon who had summoned him. "Jimmy, you best remember Maddie here. You give her any static the next time she comes in, and I'll let her crack your head for you."

  Jimmy grinned brightly. "Oh, I'll remember her, Joey."

  That got a rumbling laugh. "Ignore him, Maddie. He's new and doesn't know any better."

  I smiled, feeling somewhat ridiculous at how easily I reverted into a little girl in the presence of certain people.

  "Have you talked to Sophie lately?" Joey asked.

  I shuffled my feet guiltily. "Not for a long time."

  He gave me a disappointed look. "She'll be coming to town the day after tomorrow. You two should get together."

  I nodded politely, it dawning on me that she was coming for Gus's funeral and I suddenly felt like an ass. Sophie was Joey's daughter and for a long time, the best friend I had in the world. That is until I developed a not so secret crush on her that, for reasons unknown, Gus and Joey found highly amusing. To my utter teenage humiliation, they used to go out of their way to tease me about it. As if growing up gay with a French name in a predominately Irish and Italian neighborhood wasn't tough enough, I had to endure anguish on the home front as well. It seemed that everyone but Sophie knew that I was sweet on her, and I carried on bravely, always hoping she would eventually fall under my spell. Alas, pray as I might, Sophie stayed straight, and when she got married I went into a spiteful, jealous, and completely irrational depression. After the wedding, I stubbornly let the distance and the years grow between us. I was a jerk.

  "How long is she staying?"

  "A couple of weeks, should I tell her to call you?" he asked with a hopeful lilt. "She misses you."

  "I miss her too," I whispered and it was true. "Yeah, have her give me a ring."

  "Great," he said, obviously pleased.

  The soda jerk placed my sundae on the bar and I wasted no time, ignoring Joey's amused grin as I helped myself to several napkins. He turned to stride toward the door in back and I followed him.

  "No interruptions, Jimmy," he said and waited for a nod before he closed the door behind us.

  He led me to a withered card table and I sa
t down as he helped himself to a cup of coffee. He spent a few moments rummaging through a filing cabinet and finally took a seat across from me, placing a little metal box on the table in front of him.

  He cleared his throat. "Billy called and filled me in."

  "I figured he would."

  "Then you should know that if you need anything, anything. All you have to do is ask. You have a lot of friends."

  I nodded. I knew what he meant. "What's the story on Sabrina DiCarlo, Joey? I'm guessing Gus had a line on her."

  He leaned back in his chair. "If he did he was playing it close to the vest. Old man Sirico would love to get his hands on her."

  "I got a version of why from the Binkowski's. What's the real story?"

  "What did those idiots tell you?"

  "That the DiCarlos were wiped out in vendetta. Supposedly, because Salvotore promoted his daughter to head of the family."

  He grunted. "That's nonsense and if Sirico had a daughter half as smart as Sabrina, she'd already be in charge."

  "So what's the scoop?"

  "It was an old feud. Back in the sixties, Sirico and DiCarlo were good friends until they both courted the same girl. She married DiCarlo and the old man never got over it. Relations between the two families were strained but it didn't fall apart until Sirico's oldest son, Danny, fell into lust with Sabrina."

  My eyebrows climbed. "Really?"

  "Yeah, that was the catalyst."

  "How so?"

  "Danny was the kind who thought the world existed because he let it and couldn't believe that the girl didn't want him.

  "I can buy into that."

  "Tensions escalated due in large part to the fact that DiCarlo landed a series of big money deals that some speculate Sabrina had a hand in. It bugged the shit out of the old man, but the fire didn't blossom until Sal whacked Danny."

  This was news and my eyes widened in surprise. "Salvotore killed Sirico's son?"

  "Yep."

  "Why?"

  "Because Danny was an arrogant prick with a mean temper. When he couldn't win Sabrina over with his charm he decided to take her by force."

  My temper started to rise. "He raped her?"

  Joey shook his head. "No, but not many doubt that he would have if Salvotore hadn't shown up. You see, Sabrina lived on the estate and Danny broke into her room. The word is he had beat her up pretty bad by the time her father walked in on it. He emptied a gun into that kid, and Sirico got his son's balls in a paper bag the next day. The rest of the body was never found."

  "Jesus, he had to know that would start a war."

  "Sabrina was his only child. I would've done the same thing if I'd been in his shoes."

  "Did you take part in the vendetta?"

  "No, most of the capos abstained and the old man brought soldiers in from out of town. It caused a rift, but the majority of us sympathized with DiCarlo and refused to rally around the banner."

  "What happened to Sal's wife?"

  "Cancer got her a few years earlier."

  "So he takes it in the neck and his daughter disappears into thin air?"

  Joey chuckled. "That's what everybody has been led to believe."

  I leaned forward in curiosity. "There's more to it?"

  "The DiCarlo family holdings were vast, and many of them are still in operation today."

  I blinked. "Huh? Who runs the business?"

  "That's the kicker. No one knows," he said with a shrug. "Some think Sabrina does."

  "I don't get it."

  "DiCarlo was a tough old cob with a loyal family. After Danny took the dirt nap his operation disappeared almost overnight. The captains and soldiers melted into the woodwork. The only casualty of the Sirico vendetta was Sal himself. There were no spoils to gloat over."

  "So the family and all the personnel and holdings just vanished?"

  "Yep. Sirico has been battling a ghost family for the last six years. In fact, the old man has been losing ground, and every effort he's made to uncover his competition has turned out to be a waste of time. On occasion he's nabbed a bagman, but they can't reveal anything because they don't know anything. Each and every one of them were hired blind for a single job and never used again."

  "How did Salvotore die?"

  "He waited at home until they came for him and shot himself before he could be taken."

  "Hmmm. So you think Sabrina is out there running an invisible syndicate?"

  "That's what I think, yes. Sal wasn't a fool and neither was his daughter. He knew a vendetta was coming and he sacrificed himself to avoid it."

  "Did you ever meet her?"

  "Sabrina?"

  "Yeah."

  "Once, when she was a little girl."

  "Are there any pictures of her?"

  "Sirico has several of her as a child, and those are the only ones anybody has been able to find. The family photos disappeared with her and there are no yearbook photos or the like, she didn't even have a drivers license."

  "Impressive. So what was Gus's angle?"

  "I really don't know, Maddie," he said. "Like I said, he was playing it close to the vest."

  "I've already talked to the Binkowskis and Sarah Caruso. Anything I should be aware of regarding the ones I haven't seen yet?"

  "Nothing you probably don't already know."

  I dug through my jacket to produce the list. "Billy gave me the story on the Frank Brothers but I don't have any info on Anabel Hamilton."

  He smiled deviously. "I don't know anything about her."

  I eyed him carefully. It was the same look he always got when he had one over on me. "Why do I suddenly smell a rat?"

  He made a show of sniffing the air in front of him and chuckled. "I don't smell anything."

  I scowled, having played this game many times in the past. I knew from experience that needling him for answers would only end up amusing him and frustrating me. Instead, I employed a tactic that had a fifty-fifty chance. "Please, Joey," I said demurely while beaming my best smile.

  He rolled his eyes. "That stopped working years ago, Maddie."

  "Fine," I said irritably and he laughed.

  I pointed to the box he had set on the table. "What's that?"

  His chuckles tapered off and he assumed a grave expression. "I've known you a long time, kiddo," he said slowly, pushing the box in my direction. "You have a temper problem and tend to act before you think things through. I also know that your name is at the top of a lot of shit lists. Use your head and don't sign your name to anything."

  I let him finish and reached out to open the lid. His message landed on understanding ears. I pulled the holstered gun from the box and inspected it. A stainless steel Kimber Ultra Carry in my caliber. A miniature companion to the gun I was already packing.

  A set of keys hit the table in front of me. "And lose that hunk of shit you drive around in, too many people know it's yours. There's a loaner parked out back. Leave me the keys and I'll have yours towed away," he paused and thumped the table with the palm of his hand. "Take off those damn sunglasses and listen to me now, Maddie."

  I did as I was told.

  "The people watching you are gonna be waiting for a corpse to turn up. It's okay for them to know who did it; you just can't let them prove it. Get my meaning?"

  "Yes."

  "If you end up in the pokey, that damn Gus will talk God into letting him return just long enough for him to kick my ass." He looked away suddenly and when his eyes found mine again, they were shining. "Damn," he said quietly, bringing a hand up to wipe away the moisture. "I'm gonna miss that gruff old bastard."

  I tried really hard but the tears started anyway. I couldn't stop it and both hands came up to cover my face. I heard the scrape of a chair as Joey rose to his feet and soon a comforting hand landed on my shoulder as he seated himself next to me.

  "Ya know, I remember a little tomboy sitting in my shop with bloody knees and a broken arm, trying so hard not to cry she got pissed off at herself," he said with a chuckle. "
Everybody cries, Maddie. I even caught Gus at it a couple of times."

  I came out of hiding and rubbed at my eyes. "Really?"

  "You bet. Augustus had a big heart, although like you, he kept it under wraps."

  "I never saw Gus cry."

  "Well honey, you weren't around when he lost his wife. The man was a zombie for a long time after that. It wasn't until you came along that I stopped worrying about him. You gave him a reason to carry on, Maddie."

  "I did?"

  "Yes, you did. Gus wasn't the expressive sort but you gotta know you meant the world to him. That man cried a river when you went off to fly in the war. He must've aged twenty years in the time you were gone. He rarely slept and when awake he was glued to the television or radio, praying to Christ he would never hear your name."

  The tears started again and I choked. "I never knew that."

  "When he talked about you one could almost see a ray of sunshine coming from his ass," he said softly. "You were born his brother's daughter but you were his little girl and he was very, very proud of you."

  All of my control fled and I flung myself into Joey's arms. The heartsick tears that I had hoped to keep private falling unhindered. He didn't rush me and waited patiently for me to subside.

  "Maddie, you don't have to follow through with this," he whispered. "All you have to do is point a finger and the wise guys will take out the trash. Gus was one of their own, so the PD will sweep it all under the rug."

  I buried my face in his shoulder and considered his words, unexpectedly doubting my own ability to kill someone in cold blood. Would I be breaking the promise I made to myself if I played the jury and turned the execution over to others? There was no doubt that the men Joey would send were capable of a cruelty I knew I didn't possess. I decided to let the issue ride and cross that bridge when the time came.

  "I'll get back to you on that, okay?"

  "Alright."

  I gave him a squeeze and lifted my lips to his cheek before extracting myself from his lap with a sigh. "Thanks, Joey."

  "Anytime, kiddo," he said with a little smile as I stuffed the gun in my jacket pocket, picked up the keys to my new wheels, and left him the keys to my shitcar. "When Sophie calls, I don't wanna be getting a bad report on you, ya hear?"