The Body Mafia (10 page)

“I can’t thank you enough, Jimmy, really.”

“If you’re anything like your daddy, you’ll be just fine. Good luck to you, CeeCee.”

We shook hands before we left. As I drove home, my mind was in turmoil trying to sort out everything that Jimmy had told me. At home, I went outside, on my porch, and made two copies of the tape made at the restaurant. One of the copies was
placed in my gun safe, and the other I put inside my purse. The original was placed at the bottom of an opened can of coffee in my cupboard. The copies of the tape I’d found in the file were placed with the others.

Now it was time to prepare for my trip, and there was a lot to pack. Grabbing suitcases and bags out of various closets, I threw them all on my bed and divided them down the middle. Since I would be in two different climates in less than a week, I needed my summer and winter clothes.

It was getting late, so I finished packing and tried to sleep, knowing that I needed to be well rested for my day tomorrow.

“She knows, Sal.”

“What do you mean, she knows?” He anticipated the worst.

“She found some tapes Hagerman had about us, and apparently some files, too. I don’t even think the feds knew about ’em,” the man said uneasily, knowing his boss was about to explode.

Sal stood up, knocking over his chair, and walked over in front of the man, grabbing one of the lapels on his designer suit.

“I ought to fucking kill you right here. She was your responsibility, and you fucked up! You know what we have to do, don’t you? I don’t need this fucking snag right now. The Filipinos are pissed as it is that we didn’t make the order last month, and this is the last thing we need to fucking worry about!” Sal shoved the man backward, letting go of his jacket.

“Look, Sal, it may not be as bad as it seems. She just
made reservations in Florida to spend three weeks there. I think she’s still off her rocker and is going away for a while. She’s not acting like she really cares that much.”

“You think, huh? Bullshit!” He couldn’t believe this had happened. “Do the Filacis know yet?”

“I don’t think so, but it’s only a matter of time. I’m sure they’ll send their own people on her…probably Bertola.”

“We can’t count on them to take care of it, since we’re not sure they even know yet. You and Tommy personally keep her in sight every minute from here on out. When is she leaving for Florida?”

“Her reservations were made for an afternoon flight out of Cleveland the day after tomorrow. She reserved a condo in Siesta Key for three weeks, paid in full already.”

“Wait until she gets to Florida, and do her there. Throw her ass in the fucking Everglades for all I care—just get rid of her, and soon!”

“Sure, Sal. Consider it done.”

“You’re on thin ice, Frankie. This is your last chance to make it right.”

After leaving the dentist’s office the next morning, I ran around doing more errands, which included stopping my mail and newspaper for a month. If things didn’t go well, they would be stopped permanently. I had called in sick leaving a message on Naomi’s voice mail. The days after would be taken care of tomorrow. The last stop was to my bank, where I rented a safe-deposit box. The copies of everything I had, along with copies of both tapes, were placed inside. The key to the box was mailed to a close friend of mine in Atlanta. The note wrapped around the key had a date on it with a message that told her
to call the FBI and turn over the key if I didn’t call by ten p.m. on the date given. The date was exactly one month from today. Everything in the box was probably not enough to take both families down, but I would be getting more information, and it was better than nothing. At the very least, it would be leverage.

Lastly, I headed to my father’s for my visit with Isabelle and Selina. Since I was early, I took the opportunity to call Sean and say good-bye.

“When will I see you again, CeeCee?” He sounded like he was going to cry.

“Oh, honey, you’ll see me soon enough.” I prayed that was true. “Hopefully you’ll be able to come down around Christmas and open all the neat presents I bought you!” I lied.

Christmas was the last thing on my mind, since we hadn’t even gotten to Thanksgiving yet. In the bestcase scenario, I would be back in plenty of time to shop for the kids. Worst case, they would be opening the letter I wrote telling them how sorry I was, and to go on with their lives as best they could without me. Without a doubt, it was one of the hardest letters I have ever written. Saying good-bye to the girls at my father’s house would prove to be even more difficult, since it was highly possible it would be the last time I would ever see them.

Most people might consider me downright pathetic for doing what I was about to do. They would say my children were given no consideration, but how wrong they would be. Everything I was about to do was for my children. I looked at it in one way only. My life had hit rock bottom and would continue that
way if I didn’t do something about it. Yes, I could put everything behind me and move on, but now I was pretty confident the Mafia was looking for me, and I would not live in fear. I could either take them head-on or wait to die. Either way, it was about protecting my children. For me to leave and try to take down the men who killed my husband would put them out of harm’s way. There was no other choice.

When Eric arrived with the girls, I had to fight back tears just looking at them. They were happy to see me, and I was bombarded with squeezes and giggles. Eric wasn’t aware of my upcoming travel plans, so I motioned for him to step outside with me. He was visibly not thrilled.

“Three weeks!”

“Things just aren’t getting better, and I decided to take your advice. You were right. I need to get my head together for the girls’ sake, and the only way I think I can do that is to be by myself for a while, with no distractions, including work.” I avoided eye contact with him.

“Don’t you think that’s more of running away? I mean, if you stayed here, at home, facing your surroundings every day, I think that would be better medicine.” He paused and kicked a small stone around with his foot. “Not to mention, I think I might’ve jumped the gun a little as far as the girls are concerned. You can see them again, alone.”

I dreaded what was to come next. “Eric, please don’t ask me any questions when I tell you this, okay? But if…if something were to happen to me, there’s a large envelope in my kitchen desk drawer with your name on it. Inside is a letter to the girls, and a list of other arrangements I’ve made.”

He was stunned. “You’re not going to Florida, are you?” He grabbed my arm, hard. “You better tell me exactly what you’re up to, CeeCee!”

I jerked it away. “Of course I’m going to Florida! Ever since Michael died, I realized how we can all drop dead at any minute! It scares me, Eric! I just want to be prepared is all. Nothing is going to happen, I know that…I think. How do I know my plane’s not going to crash or something?”

“Your plane is not going to crash.” He grabbed my chin to face him. “Look at me directly and tell me you are not lying. You are the mother of my children, and I still love you, so if you’re in some kind of trouble I want to know about it.”

I almost told him. Eric would be a great asset to take along with me to confront the Mafia. He was a SWAT team member and one of the best police officers I knew. Regardless, my daughters couldn’t lose both of their parents at once.

“I’m not lying, I promise, Eric.” I tried my best to smile. “C’mon, let’s go inside so I can tell the girls.”

He didn’t believe me, not that I expected him to. We’d been married for over ten years, and he knew me as well as anyone. The girls took my trip fairly well, except for Selina trying to talk me into taking them with me.

“Why can’t we go, Mom? You’re gonna be all alone on Thanksgiving!”

“I have to, honey. You’ll be with Daddy and Jordan, so your Thanksgiving will be great, and I need to be alone right now—understand? When I get back we’re going to make it a fresh start.” I pulled her close. “How about during your spring break, me, you, and Isabelle head down to Clearwater Beach for
a week or two? Maybe we could even take Sean—does that sound okay?”

They both squealed in excitement while my heart skipped. I could only pray I would be around in the springtime. Eric left while we enjoyed the last few hours of the evening together. Dropping them off later, I couldn’t hold back my tears at the thought that this might be the last time I ever saw them.

“Why are you crying, Mommy?” Isabelle looked alarmed.

“I’m just going to miss my baby girls. You guys listen to Daddy and I’ll try and call you both every night, okay?” I wiped my cheeks.

They both hugged me tight before going inside. I noticed Eric was at the window, watching. There were a lot of things I would’ve liked to say to him, too, a lot of things I’d never said when our marriage ended. Even though I still cared for him deeply, I felt it was best to let it lie.

Back at home, the rest of the night was spent loading up my car and walking around my house. Michael was everywhere, it seemed—the kitchen, the family room, our bedroom, and his office. Each place held its own memory of him, and as I shut the light off in each of the rooms, I stood for a few moments, remembering.

My last project was typing up the important letter I had put off writing all day. As I sealed it in an envelope and wrote the name on the front, I felt the warm tears run down my cheeks. None of this seemed fair. Wallowing in my self-pity, I pondered the shitty hand of cards life had dealt me, how it all changed in a matter of minutes.

Lying in bed, doing my best to get some sleep, I almost had second thoughts, until searching for other options proved fruitless. After several hours of tossing and turning, I finally drifted off, only to be awakened less than two hours later by the telephone.

“Hello?”

Silence again. Repeating “hello” two more times, I knew I wouldn’t get an answer. My anger was reduced to sobs. I was exhausted.

“Who is this?” I cried. “Please! Leave me alone!”

I slammed the phone down, fell onto my pillow, and cried myself back to sleep.

“The hit has been put out on her, sir,” Alan Keane said into the phone from his hotel room.

“From both?”

“Just the Iacconas for now. I’m sure once the Filacis get wind of it, they’ll follow suit.”

“Did we get this on one of our wires? Is it enough to drag them in now?” There was eagerness in his voice.

“No, sir. It came from one of our snitches, but I’m fairly sure it’s solid.” Alan sighed into the phone. “Her plane leaves tomorrow night. She’s flying into Sarasota, but has arrangements made south of there, in Siesta Key. What do you want me to do?”

“Send Mark Sanders and Gary Nicholas down there immediately and watch her at all times. Salvatore will probably have his people do it while she’s in Florida, so they can’t take their eyes off her for a minute!”

“Yes, sir. I’ll have them on a plane first thing in the morning.”

“Alan, do your best to make sure he doesn’t know about this. I’m afraid this might be the one to do it…if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, sir.”

Alan hung up the phone, his chest heavy. The problem his boss didn’t know was that it was too late. He already knew.

I slept less than three hours and was up before sunrise. A full day lay ahead of me before my scheduled flight. After quickly taking a shower and getting dressed, I grabbed the rest of my things before lingering in the doorway between the garage and the kitchen. Feeling the familiar surge of emotions, I forced myself to ignore them before shutting the door for good.

Once I arrived at Richland Metro, I thought it best to park in front. The main entrance was an easy way to get to the sheriff’s office, and I didn’t want to take the chance of running into Naomi or Coop. They had called several times in the last couple of days—at home and on my cell—and had been ignored every time.

When I saw the sheriff’s car parked in front, a silent thank-you came through my head. No one ever knew when and if the sheriff would be there. He usually had a full schedule of meetings daily. After parking in the spot next to his, I ran inside and skipped steps going up to his office. His secretary told me to go on in. He was seated behind his desk, listening to voice mail.

“CeeCee!” He shut his phone off and stood up. “Where have you been? Naomi has been in and out of here worried about you.”

“I know, Sheriff, I’m sorry. Look, I don’t have much time. I wanted to give you this personally.” I took the
envelope out of my purse and handed it to him. My hand was shaking.

He took the envelope. “What is it?”

“It’s my resignation, sir, effective immediately.”

He looked at me as if he was in a state of shock, turning the envelope back and forth to make sure he was really holding it. After a few moments, he thrust the envelope back at me.

“Take this. I will not accept it.”

I had expected this, but there was no other way. Sheriff Stephens looked crushed and very worried. He would do everything in his power to talk me out of it, but there was no going back now. Ignoring the envelope, I took my badge and duty weapon out of my purse, set the badge on his desk, and unloaded my gun before setting it and the magazine down as well.

“I’m sorry, Sheriff, but it’s done. I have to go.”

“CeeCee, wait a minute! Look, per your union contract, I can grant you up to a year of unpaid leave of absence. I know you’ve been having a rough time, but don’t quit! I’ll give you all the time you need!” he pleaded.

I shook my head. “You don’t understand. I have to do this. I cleaned out my office several days ago. Justin Brown and Coop can handle the homeless murders, and the rest of my cases can be assigned to
the other detectives. It will all work out. Please understand.”

“I’m not worried about the fucking cases right now!” he barked, and then lowered his voice before walking around his desk and facing me. “CeeCee, you’re the best detective I’ve got. I’ve known you since you were a little girl, and I know this is all you’ve ever wanted to do. Please tell me what to do. What can I do to help you and change your mind?”

“Nothing,” I whispered, my eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“Does your dad know?” he said, just as quietly.

Shaking my head again and closing my eyes, I answered, “You’re the first. Please don’t make this harder than it is. I wish I could explain it better, but please, trust me.”

He let out a long sigh. “All right, but I’m not filling your spot for a year. The union can file every grievance from here to China, but they can kiss my ass, you hear me? If you change your mind, it’ll be here waiting for you.”

I nodded, letting my tears fall before I hugged him and said good-bye. He surprised me with what he said as I walked out the door.

“CeeCee, what ever you’ve gotten yourself into, please…be careful.” He looked somber.

I didn’t respond but merely did my best to smile as I walked out of the Richland Metropolitan Police Department, no longer a civil servant, but a civilian. And that was exactly how I wanted it.

My flight wasn’t scheduled to leave for four more hours, which would give me just enough time to get to Cleveland and check into my motel room. All I
really needed to do was pay the clerk for the two weeks I planned to stay, and put my things inside with the do not disturb sign on the door. If all went well, I would be back in three to four days.

The clerk didn’t pay much attention to me—not that I expected him to. Not many people would give a second look to a dark-haired beauty-supply saleswoman checking in under the name Michelle Faulkner. As he handed me the room key, his eyes were still focused on the television that sat on the desk, blaring a twenty-four-hour news channel. It couldn’t have been more perfect.

It took less than five minutes to grab my suitcases out of my trunk and throw them in the room. Then I drove to the airport. After acquiring the plane ticket reserved in my own name, I was finally sitting on the plane, slowly sipping a vodka and orange juice as the plane roared through the sky. My previous fear of flying had significantly been squelched. Dying in a plane crash was the least of my worries right now, and I felt that if it was meant to be, then it was meant to be. Three hours and fifty-five minutes later, my plane landed in Sarasota, Florida.

“She’s here, Sal.”

“Good. Now watch her for a couple of days before you do anything. Make sure the Filacis or the feds aren’t watching her as well, and for Christ’s sake, don’t let them see you if they are!”

“We won’t. We know what we’re doing.”

“Have you figured out what you’re gonna do with her yet?”

“I have a contact here. They’re building a new high-rise hotel in Fort Myers, and he said they’re pouring the
cement in three days. I figure we’ll do it the night before and have her in there before the morning.”

“Can this contact be trusted?”

“Sure, especially after I paid him ten g’s for the info.”

“I want to be informed the minute the cement is poured, and I don’t care if you have to tear her room to pieces, I want those tapes found and buried with her, you got it?”

“I got it.”

Sal slammed the receiver of the pay phone down before telling his driver to pull away. For what ever reason, he was nervous. They’d done several hits like this before, and it had never been a problem. Nonetheless, on this one, he had a bad feeling…

It took longer than expected to get my rental car. They’d screwed up my reservation and didn’t have a car ready, so while they scrambled to find a replacement, I called the girls to tell them I had arrived safely. When I eventually made the thirty-minute drive out to Siesta Key, it was late. Normally, I would’ve been somewhat miffed to be driving a late-nineties model rusted-out car around the upscale island, but since nothing was normal anymore, I couldn’t have cared less. By the time I pulled into my parking space at my rented condominium, exhaustion overcame me.

Since the condo was located in the heart of Siesta Village, on Ocean Boulevard, I would’ve loved to take a quick stroll along the beach, but my fatigue wouldn’t allow it. The village streets were always adorned with art vendors and flower vendors, and generally had a festive atmosphere. Tossing my bags on the floor of the bedroom, I dove onto the bed fully clothed and slept for twelve hours.

When I woke up and looked at the clock, I silently
chastised myself for sleeping so late, since there was so much to do. My first stop was the grocery store. Technically, I was staying in Siesta Key for three weeks. It would be obvious that I wouldn’t eat out the entire time, so I had to have enough food there to prove it.

After the shopping was taken care of, I unpacked all of my suitcases and put everything in drawers and my toiletries in the bathroom. Some of the clothes I balled up and threw in a pile on the bathroom floor, while others were put in a laundry hamper. The condo needed to appear lived-in. In the kitchen I made several frozen dinners, only to dump them in the garbage disposal and throw their boxes in the trash.

When making the reservations, I had requested the condo be a second-story beachfront with a balcony facing the beach. I took two large beach towels and hung them over the balcony, where they began to flap in the wind. It was a beautiful day, and because I was feeling caught up with everything, I threw my bathing suit on and headed to the beach for a couple of hours.

Later that evening, I was walking to my favorite oyster bar in the middle of the village for dinner when I noticed the men. Had they not made such a purposeful move not to be noticed, I would never have given them a second look. They were too sloppy looking to be feds. Even undercover, federal agents still have a clean-cut appearance. No, these were Mafia, no doubt about it.

I was passing an outdoor bar and grill when my attention was drawn to a man who was seated at the bar, drinking a beer. The only reason I noticed him
was that he was wearing an Ohio State Buckeyes hat. Whenever I’m out of state and see someone wearing Ohio garb, I automatically notice it for no reason in particular.

The problem happened when he noticed me, out of thirty people walking down the street, and made eye contact. Even then, I may not have been alarmed, but when he quickly looked away and made eye contact with another man across the street perusing the art vendors, my heart rate skyrocketed.

The man looking at the art was wearing a white-collared shirt, khaki shorts, and boat shoes in an attempt to fit in with the locals. An intimidating looking man, he was scummy as well. He locked in on my stare, and we both looked away at the same time. Praying they didn’t think I had just discovered them, I stopped at a flower vendor with a large smile on my face and bought several peach roses before strolling down to the oyster bar.

It was difficult to eat, and I had to fake my way through an otherwise-enjoyable dinner on the patio, trying to conceal my fear and trembling. At one point, I dropped my fork on the floor and was able to take a quick glance down the street as I picked it up. There was no sign of the two men anywhere. The only positive side to the incident was that I now knew what they looked like and could keep my eye out for them. The negative was that they might have decided to bump up their scheduled time to take me out.

They could have been waiting for me back in the condo for all I knew. If they were, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do. My gun was in the motel room in Cleveland. There had been no way for me to get it
through airport security and bring it here. I seriously thought about going to a pawn shop and buying what ever I could get my hands on, but there was a waiting period, and hopefully I would be out of Siesta Key by tomorrow night. If I could survive that long.

“Salvatore’s got his men down there, sir. Agent Nicholas spotted Frank Trapini watching her on the street today, and Sanders thought he saw Tommy Miglia sitting at a bar.”

“Damn…What about the Filacis?”

“No sign of them anywhere, sir. They’re all accounted for in Cleveland. No one’s missing, even Bertola. I don’t think they know about her yet.”

“Do you think she knows?”

“I don’t know. They saw her slow down and look at Trapini a little strange, but she kept walking and stopped and bought some flowers. I don’t think she picked up on it.”

“Did you find the tapes?”

“We searched Hagerman’s home office after she left, and they weren’t there. I’m assuming she has them with her.” Alan Keane hoped that wasn’t true.

“That’s bad if she does. If we know about the tapes, so do they. They’re all we got, Alan. Those tapes are gold to us right now, especially with Hagerman gone.”

“I know…I have some more bad news. Richland Metro just discovered another body today, missing both kidneys.”

“Jesus fuck!” his boss’s voice screamed through the receiver. “God damn it, Alan, how did that happen? I thought we had people watching everybody involved?”

“Yes, sir, we do, but we haven’t found the mole,” he grumbled.

“I don’t know what’s taking so long to find him, but you’d better do it soon!”

Alan Keane sighed as he hung up the phone.

Since I had understandably worked myself into a state of paranoia, I stopped at a souvenir shop on my way home. All I could find was a six-inch-long letter opener with a bright green handle that had “Siesta Key” stamped on it. It was better than nothing, and it was also sold in every souvenir shop in Siesta Key—a good thing. If I would ever have to use it, the investigators would be at a dead end as far the letter opener went.

Nervous as hell while opening the door to my condo, I braced myself for anything. The door didn’t appear to have been tampered with, and I had lodged a broom handle in the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. All was still in place. Semiconfident that no one else was inside, I searched the place anyway. My heightened awareness and instincts were telling me that I might have to move up my departure date. Instead of leaving tomorrow night, I would have to leave to night. There was no other way. Each time I thought back to my nonverbal exchange with the man on the street, I became more positive he knew I had blown their cover.

Because my original plans on how I would leave had been botched, I had to take my chances another way. I grabbed my duffel bag, which contained everything needed for my trip, quickly soaked my bathing suit in water, threw it over the shower rod in the bathroom, and turned on the television. Just before I left, my eyes drifted to the letter opener that was on the counter. I grabbed it.

Leaving my condo and walking toward my car, I noticed that one of the towels that had been hanging on my balcony had fallen down to the beach below. For what ever reason, I walked over to pick it up and throw it in my duffel bag. It was while I was bending over to grab the towel that I saw the shadow.

The hat gave him away. As my hand reached for the towel, a dark shadow appeared instantly on the sand to my right—a tall figure wearing a baseball hat. I waited just a split second longer until I knew he was directly behind me to strike. With my letter opener still in hand, I dropped the towel and stood up, quickly spinning around before driving the blade directly in the left side of the man’s neck. It was the man I had seen earlier sitting at the bar.

Evidently, he had not expected me to see him or react so quickly, but he had underestimated me. A look of shock washed across his face as his hands dropped the wire he was holding and reached up to grab the letter opener I had just put in his neck. Since I had struck him directly in his carotid artery, blood was literally spraying out of the wound all over the sand and me. The man was making loud gargling sounds as he fell to his knees, and I instinctively pushed him backward, putting both of my hands over his mouth and holding them there. Furiously looking around, I could see no one in the area or anyone else on the balconies. It was less than a minute of the man’s thrashing about, trying to pull my hands off his mouth and moaning, before he became still.

I was now in the midst of a full-blown panic and tried to get myself together as I felt the dizziness
rush in. Taking long, deep breaths, I looked around some more. Where was the other guy?

I didn’t know and didn’t wait around to find out. This was a monstrous glitch thrown into my equation, which I clearly hadn’t planned for. I stood up, ran over to my rental car, which sat less than ten feet away, and opened the trunk. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely turn the key. Almost on the verge of hysterics, I ran back over to the body and wrapped the beach towel around his head to prevent any more blood from coming out. It was everywhere. And then, with every ounce of strength I had, I dragged the body over to my car. He was so heavy, I didn’t know if I’d be able to get him up into my trunk, but adrenaline took over and I managed. I slammed the lid down and began kicking up sand to cover the bloody trail where I had dragged him, including the pool of blood that lay below my balcony.