He waved his own thoughts off as he reached for his drink. He didn’t care what it would cost. Charlie Pellecchia had to die.
Chapter 11
The first thing Charlie remembered when he woke up was what the guy who hit him with the pipe had said.
Charlie wondered if he had relived the incident in his sleep. He felt as if he had. He could see the man with the pipe. He could hear his voice.
The vague familiarity of that voice had bothered him since he was first questioned at the hospital. The man Charlie punched at the New York nightclub had been surrounded with friends. Two of them had tried to get at Charlie but were stopped by bouncers. A few dozen threats had followed. Then there was the one guy who had managed to get up close.
A young, cocky guy, he remembered.
The man with the pipe, he wondered?
“You got no idea who the fuck you just hit,” the cocky guy had said back in the nightclub.
It was a voice full of arrogance and contempt. It was the same voice he had heard two nights ago.
Charlie licked at his swollen lip. The man with the pipe was the same man from the nightclub back in New York. He had been followed out to Las Vegas.
He thought about Lisa and what had happened to her. He wondered if she told the Las Vegas police what had happened back in New York. He was about to call her when he remembered she was with her lover. He looked at the telephone. The message light was off.
“Fuck it,” Charlie said.
He wondered whether his troubles were over. If it was the mob that had followed him to Las Vegas, was the beating they gave him the night before the end of it, or would there be more?
Might they go all the way and try to kill him?
Charlie decided it was over or he would be dead already.
He checked his eyes in the mirror to see if his bruises were starting to fade. There were two dark streaks of purple under each of his eyes. He put his sunglasses back on.
In a few hours he had a date with a woman he was anxious to spend some time with. He wasn’t sure why, but Samantha Cole had intrigued him. He wasn’t sure if it was because she seemed to try to listen to him while she worked a busy bar, or if it was because he was feeling rejected and lonely and Samantha had seemed interested.
Or maybe it was something more simple, like her smile. He definitely liked her smile.
He wondered if Wet ’n’ Wild was the right place to spend some time with Samantha. His facial bruises were an ugly sight. He was also nervous about wearing a bathing suit. He was still ill at ease about the extra weight he had spotted in the mirror two days ago.
He put shorts on over the baggy bathing trunks his wife had packed for him. He picked a navy tank top to stay cool. He brought a loose-fitting shirt to cover the tank top.
The telephone rang, and Charlie sat on the bed to answer it.
“Hello?” he said. No one answered.
“Hello?” he repeated.
Whoever called wasn’t talking.
“Right,” he finally said, and hung up.
“Wear the one-piece!” Carol Curitan yelled to Samantha.
Carol was in the kitchen of Samantha’s apartment. She was aforty-five-year-old, beautiful, full-figured woman with thick blond hair and green eyes.
Samantha was checking herself out in the mirror behind her bedroom door. She turned sideways for a better view of her waist. She looked at herself up and down in the mirror.
“I feel better in this!” she yelled. She gave herself one more look in the mirror and opened the bedroom door.
Carol was in the hallway. She shook her head at Samantha when she saw her in the flower print bikini. “It’s a first date, baby,” she said.
Certain words or phrases highlighted Carol’s Alabama accent.
“All he’s seen you in so far is your work uniform,” Carol continued. “Give him a dose, darlin’. Either the white one-piece or the coral bikini.”
Samantha stopped to look at herself in the small hallway mirror near the kitchen. She liked the flower print of the bikini she was wearing. It was red and pink and aquamarine. She stood up on her toes to try to see her bottom, but the mirror was too high on the wall.
“This covers more of my rump,” she said, slapping herself on one hip. “I don’t want to show him everything day one.”
“That’s the point, baby,” Carol said. “Even I know that, and I haven’t tried to encourage anybody in fifteen years. You want them to want you.”
Samantha was nervous about how she presented herself on a first date, although she kept reminding herself that it wasn’t really a date. Charlie’s wife had just dumped him, according to him. He would only be in Las Vegas a few more days. It’s not like they would be seeing each other every Saturday night.
Which was why she wasn’t so sure Wet ’n’ Wild was the best meeting place for the lunch she had packed. She didn’t want to send the wrong signals. She didn’t want to show too much skin to a guy she might never see again.
She tugged down on her bikini bottom. “Nope,” she said. “Not this fast. This’ll have to do.”
“Well, you’re just scrumptious in that one, too, so there,” Carol said. “My lord, how I wish I had your little body to dress up for myself.”
Samantha chuckled. Carol combed her hair back to tie with a scrunchi. She had recently moved in with Samantha after fleeing from her husband across the country. They had known each other just over six months when Samantha started to regard Carol as family.
“Maybe I should take him back here and we can all go skinny-dipping,” Samantha joked in her best mock- southern accent.
Carol cocked a hip. “Darlin’, it’s been so long for me, right now I’d pay just to watch you and your date skinny- dip.”
Chapter 12
Cuccia went down to the pool to catch some sun. He was to meet later in the afternoon with the man who was supposed to kill Charlie Pellecchia. It wasn’t a conversation Cuccia was looking forward to but there was no avoiding it. Not if he wanted Pellecchia dead.
He applied suntan oil to his long, hairy legs. He scanned the pool for a blonde he had spotted through his binoculars earlier. She was a short, muscular woman with an orange one-piece thong. The skimpy bathing suit she was wearing displayed a perfect ass, Cuccia thought. She had golden-tanned skin with long, straight hair and big breasts he was sure were fake. She also wore a waterproof Rolex and earrings with emeralds as big as marbles, he remembered.
Cuccia also looked for the DEA agent as he scanned the pool area. He was sure the agent would ig a up to break his balls whenever it was most inconvenient. He was trying to stall the government’s move against his uncle.
