Sal Gabrini: Just The Way You Are (19 page)

“Her
profession isn’t news,” Reno said, “but her john is.”

Now they all
were curious.
 
“Who’s her john?” Sal
asked.

“You aren’t
going to believe this,” Reno said.
 
“It’s
Rudy Balotti, Sal.”

“Rudy?”
Tommy asked, stunned.

“Your son?”
Gemma asked, stunned too.

Mick stared
at Sal, stunned too.

But Sal
didn’t have time to be stunned.
 
He was
angry.
 
“Motherfucker,” he said, and
hurried out of the room.

Mick, Tommy,
and Reno followed him.

It didn’t
take long for Rudy to break.
 
Already
knowing what Sal was capable of, and already knowing how Sal never played, he caved
almost right away.
 
But only he caved
about the wrong thing.

“Mark came
to me for help,” he said.

“Mark
Price?” Sal asked.

“Your wife’s
law partner, yeah.
 
He knew I helped
people out, for a fee, so he came to me.”

“What did he
want you to do?” Sal asked.

“Ruin your
marriage so he could get your woman.
 
What else?
 
But he had this
elaborate plan.
 
This crazy way of going
about it.
 
He said he had to get Gemma to
want him back, or some shit like that.
 
He even wanted me to kill some innocent girl to make it all work.
 
That’s how sadistic his ass was.
 
And I did.
 
At least, I got Pamela to do it.
 
For a fee, of course.”

“What does
any of this have to do with the baby snatch?” Mick asked.
 
“Where’s Sal’s baby?”

Rudy looked
at Mick.
 
“What baby?” he asked.

“My baby,”
Sal said.
 
“We already know you’re
involved.
 
Why do you think all of us are
here?”
 
They didn’t know any such thing,
but Rudy wasn’t aware of that.

And it
worked.
 
He looked around.
 
Mick the Tick?
 
Reno?
 
Tommy?
 
He knew his goose was
cooked.
 
All he had going for him was the
fact that he was Sal’s son.
 
That, he
knew, would save him.

So he
stopped bullshitting.
 
He admitted that
he paid a lady to take the kid, somebody named Nalla Moss, but he denied
knowing anything more.
 
He was not the
mastermind, he insisted.

“Then who
is?” Sal asked his son.

There was a
wall of testosterone in front of Rudy: Sal, Reno, Tommy, and Mick.
 
Rudy was seated in a chair unbound.
 
The men who picked him up and drove him to
the safe house, respected him as Sal’s son.
 
But only to a point.
 
He had a few
scrapes and bruises when he took that respect too far, and Sal’s men had to
regain control.

“Who’s the
mastermind?” Sal asked again.
 
“Tell me
where’s my child, Rudy, and you tell me now.”
 
Sal frowned.
 
“You think I’m
fucking with you?”

“I handed
the baby off to his men,” Rudy said.
 
“I
don’t know where they took him!”

“Give me a
name,” Sal said.

Rudy
hesitated.

“Give me a
fucking name!” Sal yelled, and then slapped his son.

“Him!” Rudy
yelled back.
 
“He’s the mastermind right
in front of you!
 
He thought I’d be too
scared of him to tell.
 
That’s how
arrogant he is!”

All of the
men were stumped.
 
“Who are you talking
about?” Reno asked, a frown on his face.
 
“You’re talking about me?”

“I’m talking
about Mick Sinatra,” Rudy said boldly.
 
“The great Mick the Tick!
 
He
knows what he did.
 
Don’t let him get
away with it, Pop.
 
He’s been stringing
you along.”

Sal frowned,
staring at Rudy.
 
“What the fuck are you
talking about?” he asked.

“He still wants
to avenge you for killing his sister,” Rudy said.
 
“That shit ain’t over. That’s Mick the
Tick.
 
He would never forgive something
like that!
 
Why do you think he forgave
you so easily?
 
He wants you dead.
 
He’s behind it all!
 
I turned that baby over to his people.
 
He knows exactly where your child is.
 
He knows!”

Sal and
Tommy looked at Mick.
 
Reno looked
too.
 
Everybody in the room looked at
Mick.
 
They were so blown away by Rudy’s
accusations that they didn’t know what to do.
 
Was it true?
 
Was it a pack of
lies?

“I’m telling
you the truth!” Rudy yelled, as if he could read their minds.
 
“How can you let him get away with this?
 
How can you?”

Rudy grabbed
the gun that was now lamely in his father’s hand, as Sal was, above everybody
in the room, most thrown by the accusations.
 
Sal reacted when he felt his gun leave his hand.
 
But he reacted too late.
 
Rudy aimed at Mick and pulled the trigger.
 
But Mick was a faster draw.
 
He fired first even with Rudy’s head
start.
 
Rudy was firing as he fell back in
his chair, but he misfired, and he and the chair both were knocked
backwards.
 
When the dust cleared, Mick
was still standing.
 
But Rudy, Sal’s son,
was dead.

Sal stood
there, staring at his downed son, but he knew he brought it on himself.
 
He played both sides the entire time he knew
him.
 
He played both sides one time too
many.
 
And with the wrong man this time.

Tommy went
and stood beside his brother.
 
Both men
were stunned.

But their
men weren’t.
 
They immediately aimed
their weapons at Mick.
 
Had he just
killed the witness to his crime?
 
Or was
he just defending himself?
 
They didn’t
know.
 
And when they didn’t know, they
were taught by Reno, Tommy, and Sal, to act as if they did.

But Mick
wasn’t having it.
 
He looked at his
relatives so intensely that they felt his rage.
 
“Tell your men to turn those guns away from me,” he ordered, “or I will
kill every motherfucking one of them.”

Sal stared
at his Uncle Mick.
 
Then motioned for the
men to stand down.

But Sal was
still torn.
 
He didn’t want to believe
it.
 
He would never believe it
ordinarily.
 
But his child was
missing.
 
His newborn baby.
 
“Do you know what happened to my child?” he
asked.

Mick looked
Sal dead in the eye.
 
“No,” he said.

“Why did
Rudy claim you did?”

“To save his
own ass.
 
How should I know?”

“He just
want his son back, Uncle Mick,” Tommy said.
 
“Nothing personal.”

Mick
couldn’t believe it. “Nothing personal?
 
I’ve just been accused of kidnapping my nephew’s son.
 
It’s personal to me.”

“His son is
missing, Mick,” Reno said.
 
“You’ve got
to understand how he feels.”

“I
understand.
 
That’s the only reason he’s
not dead right now.”

It was a
powerful assertion.
 
One the Gabrinis
didn’t take too kindly.
 
Tommy remained
beside Sal, and Reno went and stood by him too.
 
Tommy and Reno had Sal sandwiched between them.

“All he
wants is his son back,” Reno said.
 
“He
doesn’t want a war with you.”

“But if it
comes to that,” Sal said.
 
“So be it.”

Mick
continued to stare at Sal with a look that appeared to contain equal doses of
love and hate.
 
“So be it,” he said, and
then he left the safe house.

Sal stumbled
back slightly.
 
Tommy and Reno helped him
to a chair.
 
They let Mick leave.
 
What were they supposed to do?
 
Detain Mick Sinatra?
 
Risk their own deaths?
 
Who would look for Sal, Junior then?
 
Who would be alive to even tell the story?

But Reno
knew they had to do something.
 
He didn’t
want war with Mick.
 
He seriously doubted
if they would win.
 
But they had to do
something.
 
“Put a detail on him,” he
ordered one of his security men in the room.
 
“Keep your distance, he can be ruthless.
 
But follow his ass.”

Reno’s man
nodded, and headed out.

Tommy looked
at his brother.
 
His child was still
missing.
 
His other child was dead.
 
And he probably felt as if he knew nothing
more than he knew when the ordeal first began.
 
The idea that Mick was involved was a nonstarter for them.
 
Mick wouldn’t do something like that.
 
But it was a hellava thing for Rudy to claim.

Reno was
looking at Sal too.
 
But Sal was staring
at his downed son.

Gemma was
out on the terrace off from the master bedroom, reclining on their extra wide
chaise, by the time the men made it home.
 
She had a plate of food, cooked by Trina, on her lap.
 
Reno and Tommy remained downstairs with
Trina, while Sal made his way upstairs.
 
When he arrived on the terrace, he sat on the chaise beside Gemma.
 
And hugged her.
 
She already knew he didn’t find their
child.
 
His anguished face told her that.

Instead of
making him relive right away what was obviously a disappointing outing, she put
some food on a fork and put it to Sal’s mouth.
 
“Eat this,” she said.

Sal looked
at the food and felt nauseated.
 
“Our
child is out there somewhere, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”
 
He shook his head.
 
“I can’t eat.”

“Neither can
I,” Gemma said.
 
“But you’re the one out
there searching for our child.
 
You need
your strength, Sal.
 
Eat.”

Sal didn’t
want to.
 
He didn’t think he could even
stomach it.
 
But he did as Gemma ordered
and allowed her to feed him.

She was able
to feed him four more times that way, but when she came again with another
forkful, he turned his mouth away.
 
She
was at least satisfied he had had that much.

Then she
knew she had to get the details.
 
“How
did it go?” she asked him.

“Bad,” Sal
said.
 
“I don’t know where to begin.”

“Just tell
me what happened.”

“Rudy
claimed Mick snatched our son.”

Gemma looked
at Sal.
 
She was shocked.
 
“Mick Sinatra?
 
Are you serious?
 
Mick wouldn’t do anything like that!”

“He made
that perfectly clear.
 
And I know he wouldn’t,
Gem, but I can’t dismiss anything.
 
If
somebody had told me Tommy had took our child, I’ll be looking at Tommy
funny.
 
I hate that I feel this way, but
that’s how I feel.
 
This is our child
we’re talking about.”

“I know,”
Gemma said, nodding her head in agreement.
 
“I feel the same way.”
 
Then she
frowned.
 
“But why would Rudy try to put
the blame on Mick?”

“It was
convenient?
 
I don’t know.
 
He knew how angry Mick was when he found out
I was the one who took out my mother.
 
Which meant I killed his sister.
 
And maybe Rudy was playing on that knowledge, I don’t know.
 
But that’s not the worst of it.”

Gemma braced
herself.
 
“What’s the worst?”

Sal hated
telling Gemma all of this.
 
But she was
his adviser.
 
She was the one he needed
to bounce this stuff off of.
 
“Then Rudy
tries to take Mick out,” he said.

Gemma’s
heart dropped.
 
“Rudy tried to kill
Mick?
 
That fool!
 
Even you wouldn’t try a thing like that and
you have an entire syndicate behind you.
 
Please don’t tell me Mick killed that boy.”

Sal hesitated,
thinking about what could have been, and then he nodded.
 
“He killed him.”

Gemma closed
her eyes and leaned her head back.
 
She
had hoped that one day Rudy and Sal would bond.
 
But they never got together that way.
 
She looked at Sal.
 
“How did you
feel when you saw it?”

“Mick had no
choice, so I didn’t blame him.
 
He had to
do it.
 
Rudy drew on him.
 
What else was he supposed to do?”
 
Then Sal exhaled.
 
“I felt regret,” he said.
 
“That’s what I felt.”

“Mick denied
having anything to do with the kidnapping though, right?”

Sal
nodded.
 
“He was offended we would even
think it.”

“I can
imagine.
 
Especially with Rudy trying to
claim it was all about revenge for what happened to Mick’s sister.
 
To your mother.”

“That’s what
he claimed.
 
But I don’t buy that.”

“I don’t
either,” Gemma said.
 
“Mick forgave
you.
 
I remember when he forgave
you.
 
He knew you did what you had to do
that day too.”
 
Then Gemma exhaled.
 
“So where’s Mick now?”

“He left
after the accusation,” Sal said.
 
“You
could see how hurt he was.
 
And I guess I
was wrong to ask him the question, but this is our child we’re talking
about.
 
I had to ask.”

Gemma
nodded.
 
“You had to,” she agreed.

That was
what Sal loved about Gemma.
 
She was
always in his corner.
 
If he blew it,
she’d let him know and would show her disapproval, but she would still stay by
his side.
 
But even still, that was only
one of the hundreds of reasons why he loved her so much.

“We’re back
at square one,” he said.
 
“We still have
no idea what happened to our child.
 
We’ve got thousands of people working to find Junior.
 
We’ve turned this city upside down
ourselves.
 
Chicago too.
 
But we’re still back at square one.”

That sinking
feeling returned, and Gemma leaned closer to Sal.
 
“Sometimes I feel as if I’m going to die if I
don’t hear his cry.
 
Then sometimes I
think I hear him crying, and I can’t reach him.
 
It’s awful, Sal.”

Sal held her
tighter, and kissed her forehead.
 
Silence ensued.
 
Then he
exhaled.
 
He had to get it off his chest.
 
He had to!
 
“One time,” he said, “when I was a cop in Seattle, or more like a
crooked cop, I ordered my men to burn down this house.
 
Some thugs had stolen our stash, and I wanted
revenge.
 
So I had their house burned
down.”

He paused as
if he couldn’t continue.
 
Gemma looked at
him.

“When they
set the place on fire,” he continued, “we all began to run.
 
But one of my men looked back, and then I
looked back.
 
I saw this kid, a little
boy, standing in the upstairs window crying for help.”

Gemma’s
heart dropped.
 
“God, no.”

“I tried to
run back, to rescue the kid.
 
Honest I
did.
 
But it was too late.
 
The whole house burned down.”
 
Sal sighed.
 
“It’s karma, Gemma.
 
I took
somebody else kid’s life that day.
 
Now
somebody’s trying to take my kid’s life.”

“It’s not
karma,” Gemma said.
 
“Don’t say that.”

“I thought
maybe that’s who’s pulling this shit now.
 
Maybe relatives of that kid.
 
Maybe they waited until I had a child, after all these years, and
decided to get their revenge.”

It was a
plausible thought.
 
But Gemma knew human
behavior.
 
She knew it was often said
that revenge was a dish best served cold, but it was usually served piping
hot.
 
Right away.
 
Because of the rage factor.
 
“Did you have your men look into it?” she
asked.

Sal
nodded.
 
“You know I did.
 
I don’t leave stones unturned.
 
I had them look into everything.
 
But there’s nothing there either.”

Gemma leaned
her head against his.
 
“We’re find him,
Sal.
 
I’ve been praying.
 
We’ll find him.”

“Rudy is
gone.
 
Now my son is missing.
 
Our precious baby.
 
It’s like I’m damaged goods, Gem.
 
It’s like all that shit I pulled in my life
is coming back to haunt me through my children.
 
I’m not worthy to have a child.”

Gemma
quickly looked at him.
 
“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true!”

“It’s not
true,” Gemma said firmly and turned to him.
 
Her face was the personification of seriousness.
 
She knew how deeply he felt.
 
“You are worthy.
 
You hear me, Salvatore Luciano?
 
You are worthy!
 
If you aren’t, with a heart like yours,
nobody is.”

Then Gemma
pulled him into her arms.
 
And he let
her.

An hour
later, after Gemma had set her plate on the floor and had gone to use the
restroom, Tommy came out onto the terrace.
 
His hands in the pockets of his tailored pants, he walked slowly toward
the chaise and then sat on its edge.
 
He
looked at his kid brother.
 
“I would ask
if you were okay, but I already know the answer.”

“I’ll never
be okay until I find my child,” Sal said.
 
“And we’ve got nothing so far.”

“Trina says
the FBI came by while we were gone.”

Sal looked
at him.
 
“Yeah?”

“They wanted
to know if Gemma saw anything.
 
But she
convinced them to keep it moving.
 
Gemma
was still coming out of the fog when they took the baby for examination.
 
She couldn’t possibly have seen
anything.
 
Then they wanted to talk to
you.”

“I bet they
did,” Sal said.
 
“They always want to
talk to me.
 
It doesn’t have shit to do
with my child being missing, but they want to talk to me.”

“Trina told
them you weren’t even there when the child was snatched, what would you
know?
 
They still insisted, until she
told them you weren’t here.
 
They finally
took their asses on.”

“Good,” Sal
said, and laid his head back.
 
But he
looked at his brother through the small opening of his eyes.
 
“What about you?” he asked.
 
“How are you doing?
 
Grace and the baby okay?”

“They’re
good.
 
I just got off of the phone with
Grace.
 
They’re under lock and key at the
estate until we find out who’s behind the snatch.”

“But what
about you?
 
That was a long flight to get
you here.
 
You okay?”

Tommy
attempted to smile, but failed.
 
“I’ll be
doing a whole lot better when I get to see my nephew.”
 
He looked at Sal.
 
“Hellava thing what happened to my other
one.”

Sal
nodded.
 
“Yeah.
 
Know what you mean.
 
But Uncle Mick did what he had to do.”

Tommy nodded
too.
 
“I know it.
 
Rudy was bad news all around.
 
But my hope was that he would change.
 
But for him to accuse Mick like that.”
 
Tommy shook his head.
 
“He had a death wish.
 
Even I know better than to come at Mick
Sinatra like that.”

“He came
here to help me find my child,” Sal said, “and I repay him by asking him if
that bullshit Rudy was spouting was true.
 
He may not forgive me this time.”

Tommy
squeezed Sal’s hand.
 
“It was a question
that had to be asked.
 
Mick knows it.”

But Sal
thought about his son again, and closed his eyes in agony.
 
“What am I going to do, Tommy?” he
asked.
 
“I need to find my son.
 
I’ve looked everywhere we could possibly
look.
 
I’ve overturned every stone.”
 
He opened his anguished eyes and looked at
his brother.
 
“What else can I do?”

“Pray,”
Tommy said firmly, “and believe.
 
God has
this all in control.”