MOB BOSS 2 (15 page)

“Same old Reno. Impatient.”

“Yeah, I’m impatient. Especialy when I’m dealing with a dead fucker.”

“Yeah, that was ingenious, wasn’t it? Frank used to sit back and laugh at you and your old man and Vito Giancarlo and al of you stupid assholes who actualy thought he was stupid. But who’s

laughing now?”

“Frank ain’t,” Reno said. “But what you want? Where’s the kid?”

“Why are you caling him that, Dominic? He’s your kid, your son. Don’t you forget that.”

“Where is he?”

“We’l be in touch. We just needed to make sure you were fuly onboard here.”

“On board for what?”

“Patience, Dominic. You always lacked patience. We’l be in touch. And please don’t be so foolish as to try and trace our cals. You aren’t dealing with amateurs. Besides, we’re too smart

for your dumbass, Reno.” Then he laughed, and kiled the cal.

Reno stared at the cel phone, saw that it was an unknown name, unknown number. He handed it to Carmine.

“What did he say?” Marcy asked.

“He’l be in touch,” Reno said.

“Where’s Nicky? Did he say if Nicky was al right?”

“He said they’l be in touch, that’s al he said. We’l just have to sit tight and wait.”

Then he went over to Trina, grabbed her by the hands. He expected more griling from her, more wariness. But, to his shock, she was more concerned about the fact that the boy had been

Then he went over to Trina, grabbed her by the hands. He expected more griling from her, more wariness. But, to his shock, she was more concerned about the fact that the boy had been

kidnapped than by the fact that the boy was his. “When did they take him?” she asked Marcy.

“Yesterday,” she said. “They said I was to hook up with Reno, that they won’t tel me anything until I hook up with Reno. Then they’l be in touch.”

“They know it’s his son?”

She nodded. “They know.”

Trina looked at Reno. “That’s why you went to Jersey? To get with her?”

“To, no, Tree, I didn’t know either. I had no idea I had a son. She just laid this on me.”

Trina found his need to say that odd. “I already worked that much out, Reno,” she said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Come on, Reno. If you knew you had a child in this world he would be right here under lock and key at the PaLargio, just like I am. I’m your responsibility, as you’re always reminding me,

and he would be too. That’s just you, Reno.” She frowned. “Of course you didn’t know.”

Reno smiled, proud of her. He should never underestimate this woman. Never. He put an arm around her.

“Is this the first time they’ve been in touch?” Trina asked, looking from Reno to Marcy.

“Yes,” Marcy said. “The first time.”

Trina nodded. What a beautiful woman, she thought, the kind of trophy girlfriend any man would want by his side even if he couldn’t stand her. But he’d love to show her off. This woman and

Reno matched, Trina also saw. She could see how they once hooked up. She was even wiling to bet that people often looked at them and declared them the perfect couple. She also knew that those

same people would look at her with Reno and declare them the odd couple.

Then she inwardly smiled, thinking how Reno would respond to such people. “I got your odd couple right over here,” he’d say angrily. “Right between the bals.”

And just thinking about that, about the man himself, and how he always found ways to make her laugh, to make her feel like the most important woman in the world to him, made it clear to her

how leaving Reno and this maddening world of his would never be as simple as walking away.

TWELVE

After Carmine went to pour drinks, and Reno went downstairs to talk with Dirty about the hit at the Spring Valey compound and to eyebal his mother and sisters, Trina and Marcy sat on the sofa

and talked. Reno knew it was risky, leaving the two of them together, but he figured Marcy would be too worried about her son to lie on him, or pretend they were stil an item, anything like that.

He was wrong.

“So you married the great Reno Gabrini,” Marcy said to Trina, her legs crossed, her big blue eyes almost devoid of emotion.

“Reno doesn’t seem to think they’l harm your son,” Trina said instead, not about to let this woman get al up in her marriage to Reno.

“You mean
our
son, don’t you?” Marcy corrected her. When Trina didn’t respond, wasn’t playing her game, she kept trying. “I don’t know what they’l do,” she said. “These gangsters can be

very unpredictable. But I have total faith in Reno. He knows what he’s doing. He’s considered a very good catch, you know,” Marcy continued, surprising Trina with her unwilingness to discuss the

weightier matters. It could be a defense mechanism. Trina could only imagine how a mother would feel knowing that her child had been kidnapped; knowing that her baby was in harm’s way. But

Marcy’s almost lackadaisical reaction stil disarmed her.

“Everybody assumed we were going to get married,” Marcy went on as Carmine, who was ordered to keep Trina and Marcy in his sight, handed them their drinks. “Didn’t they, Carmine?”

Marcy assumed he would be in her corner. She never took Carmine as the kind of Italian that was particularly partial to blacks.

But Carmine looked at her with a frown on his face. What she didn’t know was that he knew the whole story, from her sleeping with Paulo Gabrini’s enemies for a fee, to her sleeping with Paulo

himself, and, ultimately, sleeping with Reno. It was sordid and it was despicable to him. “Didn’t they what?” he asked her.

She hesitated, seeing that look of disgust on Carmine’s face. “Didn’t everybody think Reno and I would be married?”

“How should I know what everybody thought? Al I know is that Reno found him a good, honest, trustworthy woman and he loves her and married her. That’s al I know. Besides, who the

fuck cares? Your child is missing, at least that’s what you’re claiming. How can you sit up here talking about some love affair you may or may not have had with Reno at a time like this?”

Trina almost smiled. And Marcy caught herself. She had messed up again. “You talk like you don’t believe me,” she said, deciding to jump defensive. “You talk like I’d use my own son to

what, Carmine? Tel me what are you insinuating I’d use my own son for? This my boy we’re talking about! They took him and I have the scars to prove it. Ask Reno. He saw the scars.”

“He saw’em?” Carmine asked with disbelief in his voice. “Where they at? I don’t see no scars.”

“I would have to be naked to show them to you,” she said with relish. “And that ain’t happening in your lifetime.”

Carmine glanced at Trina. Trina looked into her gin and bitters and began to slosh around the angostura. This woman was trying to make her jealous at a time like this, she thought. What kind

of mother was she? Or was Carmine right after al and she was using her own son? But why? Why would she do it? To get back with Reno? Did she want Reno back? Trina couldn’t imagine any of

his girlfriends not wanting him back. Especialy the way he handled his business in bed.

Or was she working with Partanna’s people?

She didn’t know, but what she did know was that she didn’t trust this woman. Didn’t trust a word that was coming out of her mouth.

Marcy was surprised by Trina’s calm. Here was a woman sobbing on Reno’s shoulder like some lost kid before she realized they had company, and now she was Miss Cool. It unnerved

Marcy, if truth be told. Not only was she great looking and curvaceous, but she had brains too, something sorely lacking in most of the women she’d heard Reno hooked up with after her. She had to

keep her eyes on this one, she thought. This one might just have Reno’s back.

To Trina’s relief, Reno didn’t stay away long. But when he returned, he returned with two other men. The cousins, she suspected. One was tal, slender, and elegant, a man who was actualy

better looking than Reno, something she had thought wasn’t possible. But he was just that gorgeous. He, in fact, was a man with such a suave appearance that Trina found herself a little taken aback by his beauty too. The other guy, the younger one, had that bul dog, low, compact, scruffy look. If the elegant one looked like a modern day Cary Grant, the shorter one looked more like James Cagney.

“Tree, I want you to meet my cousins, Tommy and Sal Luca,” Reno said as he hurried toward the bar. “Tommy and Sal, that’s my wife.”

“How you doing?” Sal asked, keeping his distance. The idea that Reno would marry some black chick with al of these Italian girls around this town just didn’t sit right with him. What she’s got

that an Italian girl didn’t have, he wanted to know. Nothing, from the looks of her, he thought.

His big brother Tommy, however, held a different view. As soon as he walked up to Trina to shake her extended hand he got it, he understood without reservation what Reno was so excited

about. Reno had talked to him about this woman as if she was the cure for cancer; as if she was the answer to any man’s dreams. She wasn’t, of course, just looking at her. Tommy could point out

women just as beautiful any day of the week. Even Marcy there.

But they wouldn’t have her style. They wouldn’t have her grace. They wouldn’t know how to smile that bright white smile that not only seduced men with her mouth but caused her hazel eyes to

sing with sensuality. And it wasn’t forced either. He knew forced when he saw it. But she was just being herself, and it was that self of hers that was the draw. Her nice figure, Tommy also noticed as he glanced down, didn’t hurt either.

“Nice to meet you,” he said as he took her hand and kissed it. “Reno has understated your beauty,” he added.

Trina smiled. “Oh, you’re smooth,” she said, eliciting a grin from Tommy. “You could give Reno a run for his money.”

“Don’t get fresh with my cousin,” Reno yeled jokingly from behind the bar. “He’l break your heart in the end.”

“Him? A heart breaker? I don’t believe it. Not this gorgeous hunk of human being!”

“I know that’s right!” Marcy said, laughing and giving Trina a high-five. Reno and Tommy exchanged glances. And as Marcy continued laughing and teling Trina about men and what made a

good looking one, Tommy made his way over to his cousin.

“You buying it?” he asked Reno in a voice low enough for only Reno to hear.

“Her kidnapping story?” Reno asked. “Hel nal. Marcy is a lot of things, but she wouldn’t be high-fiving and joking around if her kid was somewhere in danger. That ain’t Marcy.”

Tommy looked at her. “My people are teling me that she was a button for Partanna after your old man kicked her to the curb, that she was one of his best black widows. I’m wondering if

that’s why she’s here, to try and get you in her web and take you out.”

“I know. I’m wondering the same thing. That’s why I took her in that back room before we left Jersey.”

Tommy looked at Reno. “I thought you took her back there to fuck her.”

Tommy looked at Reno. “I thought you took her back there to fuck her.”

“Yeah, that’s what she was thinking too. And I let her think it too. I laid her out on that bad and scanned every inch of her, had my fingers up her ass and her pussy, to make sure she wasn’t

packing a damn thing. She’s not packing a damn thing. So I’m safe for now. Besides, they wouldn’t make it as easy as that or they would have put her in the shadows.” Then Reno frowned “But it is

worrisome,” he admitted.

“It’s nothing like Partanna’s style,” Tommy said. “I have a couple of guys working for me who used to be FBI. They say this is so unlike Frank Partanna. Al of these hits off target. Your wife,

your mother and sisters. It’s not like him. Partanna always went for the target, with colateral damage secondary. This new boss in Partanna’s organization goes for the colateral damage instead. It’s crazy.”

“That’s apparently the point. But I don’t know, Tommy. I feel as if we’re playing checkers and they’re playing chess, that they’re so far ahead of us that it ain’t even funny. And I don’t know

what to believe at this point. But until I get it confirmed that that kid is safe, we have to see this through.”

“You certain it’s your kid?”

“Mine or my old man’s, which, given that my old man is dead and gone, amounts to the same thing. So yeah,” Reno said with more than a little uneasiness, “I believe the kid is mine.”

Tommy exhaled. “What do you want me to do?”

Reno looked at his cousin. “We may have to bring him in.”

“Here to Vegas?”

“Yeah.”

“That could be very risky, Reno.”

“You’re doubting it now? You’re doubting that this Paul Brown character could be the mastermind?”

“No,” Tommy assured him. “I believe it even more based on the way he’s handling his revenge targets. But he’s a cop, at least that’s his cover, a regular patrol officer for the Newark, New

Jersey police department for crying out loud. That’s damned ingenious, Reno. This guy knows what he’s doing.”

“That’s why it must be orchestrated to the last detail,” Reno pointed out. “No short cuts. No overlooking anything. He’s working as a straight-laced patrol officer, but I’l bet the PaLargio that

he has a security detail watching his every move to rival the President of the United States security detail. That’s why you can’t cut any corners. That’s why you have to make certain your pocket-

padders in the police department are completely on our side.”

“They are. Don’t worry, they are.” Then Tommy stared at Reno. “
If
we’re forced to take that riskiest of risky moves and bring him in.”

Reno closed his tired eyes, knowing how many things could go wrong if he made the cal to bring in Paul Brown. Then he opened them again. “Right,” he said, hoisting down a Black and Tan.

After more smal talk with Tommy, Reno eventualy threw back another stiff one and then dismissed the room. Marcy was to stay with Tommy and Sal Luca in one of the hotel’s suites,