Boss (Chianti Kisses #2) (13 page)

If we’re down here more than another ten minutes or so, I won’t hesitate to phone the gatehouse to get a status update. Until then, I’ll sit here in the corner and stare at the clock.

No words are exchanged as we all alternate between avoiding each other’s gazes to sharing sympathetic glances. Six minutes left and then I can make my call.

Minute after minute passes slower than the last. When it’s finally time, I take the phone deeper into chamber for whatever shred of privacy I find. I enter the digits carefully, my shaking finger struggling to regain enough composure to press the raised buttons. Theresa sees what I’m doing and leaves her mom’s side to join my phone call.

It rings twice.

“Security,” the monotone security guard announces. I know their phone system is advanced enough for him to have notice of which phone is calling.

“This is Mrs. D. The-the younger Mrs. D. Um, we’re just wondering if it’s safe to leave the safe room yet?” I can’t quite place the voice of the guard that answered.

“I haven’t been given word, yet ma’am. I’ll connect you to Jim’s mobile phone. He may have more current information on the security breach. Hold the line please.” He politely instructs.

I can hear the crackling as the phone line switches over. “Mrs. D., this is Jimmy. We’ve got everything under control, but we need you to stay put for the time being. Everythi-Dom!!!”

The loud gunshot echoes through the receiver causing me to drop the phone handle. My hands fly to cover my mouth as I scream. I’m instantly surrounded by curious family. I can’t speak. I can’t breathe. I’ll choke on my own words if I try.

Theresa bends to retrieve the cordless phone, speaking aloud to it, but it’s no use. The call is dead. No one else is on the other line.

“V, what was it? What did they say?” John takes control of the situation.

My voice quivers, shakes. “Gun… Dom-”

I feel dizziness swirl around as tears and gasping ripple through the small crowd. Nonna has wedged her way to the front just as my words are spoken. We lock eyes. It’s like looking in a mirror, watching my own heart break. A see a light flash across those same eyes as her chin drops and her tiny little-boned hand clutches her chest and she falls to the floor.

A surge of strength flows through my veins. I rip the phone from Theresa’s grip, redialing the guardhouse.

“This is Mrs. D again. I need an ambulance immediately.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DOM

The flashing lights are blinding through the dark night as the ambulance approaches. The man is lying dead at my feet, his last breath having left his body. The bullet has left a blood soaked puddle growing around his limp body, dripping through the wooden floorboards of the front porch.

I had stolen the gun from him, our contest of a struggle pushing back and forth as we each tried to overpower the other. Ultimately I won the prize… my life.

The slamming of the car doors as the ambulance pulls to a complete stop snaps my attention to the EMT’s rushing forward with canvas bags of equipment. “Is this him? The heart attack victim?” they ask.

My security team has descended on the scene, having secured the rest of the property. We all look at each other in confusion.

“What?” I ask the first responder. “This is an intruder that tried to kill me. It’s a gunshot wound, not a heart attack. He’s dead, though.”

The man with sewn patches on his uniform nods, “OK. My partner will stay with him and check for vitals. I need one of you to call that in to 911. Bring me to the cardiac patient.”

There must have been some confusion with the dispatch. Jake, one of the rookies down at the guardhouse runs up the hill towards us, waving his arms frantically. “The safe room! She’s in the safe room!”

What? I grab the EMT’s arm and pull him along as I guide us, running to the basement and the reinforced bunker. What the hell is going on?

I turn the main lights on, no longer cautious from the hit man. The property is secure. I can move faster down the stairs now that I can see my footing. The ambulance driver is right behind. I enter the eight digit passcode into the keypad outside the hidden room and place my thumb on the scanner. The locking mechanism unlatches and clicks the door free just as I push it open.

The room is in chaos. I see everyone huddled back toward the kitchen area. Their backs are turned towards me. I rush in. Tony sees me, blood covering most of my clothes.

“Dom! What happened? You were shot?” he inspects me as I move past. I shake off his questions, not wanting to waste time explaining.

“Dom! You’re alive!” V jumps to her feet and throws herself in my arms. Thank god! She’s OK, she’s not hurt. It’s not her that needed the ambulance. I hold her tight and count my blessings. I came close to being taken from her tonight, and for a moment, I feared that she had been taken from me.

“Nonna! Nonna, the doctor is here now. You’ll be fine now.” I hear Theresa sobbing from down below.

I relax my hold on my wife to set my eyes down where my sister is crying. The medic drops down with his heavy bag of equipment and begins to work frantically on my grandmother. My fragile, delicate little grandmother lying on the floor.

~*~

The detective scribbles a few more notes into his black leather covered flip pad. “I think that about covers it all. It should be a straight forward case of self-defense. Your security detail has done a pretty thorough job on the grounds, but we’ll need to close off the area while we conduct our investigation. Do you have some place to go tonight, Mr. DiBenedetto?”

I hear his words. “Yes, um. We-we have a vacation house out on the North Fork. We can go there while we make the arrangements.”

The detective nods and closes his pen, recapping it before hiding it back in his jacket pocket.  “We’ll need you all to stop by the precinct and make formal written statements regarding the intruder. And once again, Mr. DiBenedetto, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

The tired looking, grey-suited man politely excuses himself and exits the room through the swarms of crime scene experts and forensic workers. The coroner’s office has already left with the two ambulances, one for each of the bodies. The first one carrying the dead hit-man from the front porch, and the second… the second one carrying Nonna.

~*~

“Cars are ready, Dom.” Mike carefully enters my office and whispers.

The police are still weaving in and out of rooms, carefully piecing together their investigation. It’s just after dawn, and each one of us is our own mixture of sadness, anger, and exhaustion. Momma and Aunt Marie left for the vacation house about an hour ago. I sent a detail of two men along for protection.

V’s upstairs packing a few bags to take with us while consoling Theresa. So far, I’ve been able to hold myself together. Nonna was just as close to me as she was to my sister, but I can’t give into mourning her right now. I have to handle the things I know others won’t be able to.

I’ve made arrangements with the funeral home, and called Ellen, my secretary, asking her to set up the florist and to make the phone calls to friends and family with the service times. The church was called and Father Mahoney is setting up the funeral mass for Monday morning, two days from now.

I’ve emailed the obituary to the newspaper and contacted the lawyers. Everything that I can think of was done for Nonna’s arrangements.

“Mike, I’ll be out in just a few minutes.” I let my brother-in-law know that I’m not quite ready. He closes the door softly behind himself.

There’s nothing more I can do for Nonna, so now I need to work on the other pressing matter that’s in need of my attention.

The hit man.

With Nick, my tech guy on the west coast, I know it’s even earlier for him, but it doesn’t stop me in the slightest from dialing the digits to wake his butt up.

“Boss?” His words are groggy, tired, his voice scratchy.

I can relate. “Did I wake you, kid?”

“Nah. I’m just plugging away at something. A couple of dead ends so far. I can’t get anything beyond a pizza shop in Staten Island.” he sounds disappointed in himself.

I home in on the handful of words that just rocked my world. “Did you say pizza shop? In State Island?”

He sounds confused. “Yeah. The money wired into EJ’s account, the money that was used to anonymously pay the photographer. It came from a pizza place in Staten Island. But… here’s where it gets weird. I can’t find an owner listed. I can’t figure out who was behind the money transfer.”

I slump back into my chair. If there’s one thing the mob is pretty damn good at, it’s hiding the true ownership in businesses. “Nick… this pizza place. It wouldn’t by any chance be Nunzio’s pizza on Martin Street would it?”

There’s a pause. “Yeah. He-hey… how’d you know that?”

I rub my temple harshly with my forefinger. “Because I know the owner. You can stop trying to find it on paper, because you won’t find anything other than another dead end bogus name.”

“OK, boss. So… is this a good thing? I mean if you know him then we can get this figured out, right?”

I laugh from stressed exasperation. “Pretty sure he put a hit out on me, so I wouldn’t exactly say it’s a
good
thing.”

I end the call, and close my eyes while I fit the pieces together. There are some rough edges but it all falls into place. EJ and Moretti are in this together. Moretti supplied the cash to EJ to hire people to follow V, putting me on the offensive. Then, Moretti steps in as mediator to squash the whole situation as if he’s doing me a favor. All I have to do is sign over part of my company to him. The share I’ve managed to wrangle back from EJ and out of the hands of organized crime.

I’d finally done what John and I had been trying in earnest to do for years. I’d separated the company from all ties to the criminal underworld. Here they are twisting my arm to give it right back to them.

The only loose end is… where does Carmine fit into all this? Was he sent here as a mole, keeping tabs on how close I was getting to them? He’s conveniently missing just when I would need protection the most.

This night could have turned out differently. My grandmother didn’t have to die. If it turns out that Carmine is playing a part in this, is partially responsible for her death. Lord help him, because as soon as I’m done with Rizzo and Moretti, I’m coming for him.

~*~

“There’s no way Carmine had anything to do with this, Dom.” Theresa is adamant from the back seat.

I hold tight to the wheel as we drive into the early morning sun. “Since when are you his personal cheerleader, sis? It wasn’t even two days ago that you were swearing at him, wishing him a painful death? Well it looks like you’re gonna get your wish.”

“Oh? Is that what you do know, Dom? Are you a hardcore monster just like Carmine? Like Daddy?” she spits back.

“Enough!” V shouts out at the both of us. The interior of the car isn’t big by any means, and her yelling is almost painful to the ear drum. “Theresa, back off. This isn’t the time for you two to do this. Nonna wouldn’t want you two to fight. Dom is not going to do
anything
to Carmine without a damn good reason.” She stares me down from the passenger seat. “Isn’t that right, Dom?”

She’s taken this so much better than I ever thought she would. Theresa did too, up until the possible Carmine connection.

I don’t give my wife enough credit. I’ve been hiding these things from her, for what I thought was her own good. She has her own hang-ups with our family’s background with the mafia. None of this was supposed to have a place in our life together. I was afraid she would hold me responsible, would blame me for inviting it in.

On the contrary, she’s been more supportive than I could ever have imagined. I don’t know if it’s the shock of having a cold killer hired to come into our home for me, or her in mourning for Nonna, but she’s supporting me in every way she can.

“I will do everything necessary to protect you and to protect our family from any real threat, V. I give you my word. And I promise not to do anything that doesn’t absolutely
need
to be done.” Every word is sincere.

Theresa proceeds to give me the silent treatment from the back, while my wife carefully takes my hand in hers, holding tightly. She doesn’t look at me. Instead, she stares out the window as the tiny business pass by. I know we’ll have to revisit this, to talk this out fully as husband and wife, but for now she has the basics. She knows what’s happened to lead us to the point we’re at now.

The road ahead of me is sparse as we head out to the country. I steal my eyes from the road to watch her, I can see her profile, her soft skin, her tired eyes. And the lone teardrop falling down her left cheek that she tries to hide.

She’s cried more this morning than I’ve ever seen from her. Nonna was as close to a real grandmother to V as possible. They’ve always been close, they’ve always had a special bond. I convince myself that teardrop was for Nonna. I have a sneaking suspicion that it may have also have been for me.