I toss on a pair of sweats and a clean T-shirt. I grab an ice pack from the freezer and apply it to my face while taking another shot.
It’s time I call the director of the FBI. I always went through Salinger, but now, I don’t know who to contact. I don’t even know if my name is good anymore. The damage that man might have done could be endless.
I’m about to hit the Call button on my cell when there’s a knock at the door. I’m not expecting anyone, so it’s surprising.
When I look through the peephole, I see Enzo on the other side.
I open the door without hesitation.
“You look better,” he says with a sideways smile. “Like shit but better.”
“Thanks. Have you seen Amelia? The doctor said she was going to be okay. I need to see her.”
“I’m not so sure about that. There’s been a development.”
I can’t see his eyes through his sunglasses, so I have to assume this isn’t good news. “What kind of development?”
“Mr. Evangelista would like a word with you.”
Fuck me. “Now?”
Enzo seems annoyed. “Unless you have a party to be at, yes. Now. Let’s go.”
I toss on shoes and grab my wallet. On my way out, I wonder if I should have brought my gun.
If I had known Enzo was bringing me to Villa Russo, I would have worn something other than gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt.
“You’re kidding me, right?” I ask as we walk up the paved drive.
I’ve never been through the front entrance of this place. It’s a thousand times different than the service entrance.
Enzo holds his arm out, so I go through the front door first. “You have a private meeting in the President’s Room.”
I stop in my tracks and look down at Enzo. Only members are allowed in the President’s Room. I’ve never been allowed in there as an employee.
“You’re serious?” I ask him, but he just puts an arm around my shoulders.
“Yes. Now, turn around. I have to frisk you.”
I do as he said and let him feel me up as he checks for guns, knives, or any concealed weapons I might have on my person.
When he’s done, he holds his arms up. “I don’t mean no disrespect. You know how it is.”
“Yeah, I do,” I utter as we walk through the foyer and into the President’s Room.
Frank Evangelista, the head of the family and boss to the crime family, is sitting at a table by himself. He’s wearing a dark gray suit with gold dice cuff links peeking out the shirtsleeves. His hair is combed back, making him look the opposite of a man who’s been in hiding for a week.
I walk inside, and the door behind me is closed. Enzo has disappeared, leaving only Frank and myself.
“Have a seat,” Frank says, not rising from the table.
I notice he has his back to the wall. It’s the wise-guy way of self-preservation. You always want eyes on anyone coming through the door.
I sit on the opposite side of the square table. There are no glasses or silverware. Just a white linen tablecloth and his hand resting on top, wearing a thick gold and diamond ring on his pointer that’s probably worth more than my car.
“I’m sure you’re surprised to see I’m back. After the shooting, Raphael and I made the long and harrowing decision to relocate to different areas in New Jersey to move the danger away from our families. As you know, that plan didn’t pan out very well,” he speaks calmly with his eyes trained on me. “That was quite the show you put on today.”
I know better than to interrupt a man like Frank Evangelista, so I let him speak. He runs his tongue over his upper gums, making his mouth purse.
“After Enzo picked you and Amelia up, we cleared out our men, and the police were brought in. They arrived to find Carlo Lugazzi and the upper New York cartel tied up in a sweet little bow. They were arrested on the spot. There was enough guns and drugs in that place to arm a small nation.”
I rub the back of my neck in disbelief. “You called the police?”
He twists his mouth. “Let’s just say, you’re not the only one with connections.”
The mob and the police feeding into each other is worse than I thought. Salinger must have just been the tipping point.
Frank laughs. “I can only imagine what those townie police thought when they walked in there.” His eyes bug out, and his hands are up in the air. “Jackpot!”
My knee shakes as I try to decode what he knows about me. More importantly, what he’s going to try to do to me.
“What about Salinger?”
“The Fed?” He makes a long face. “If it were up to me, we would have done away with him, but we have other things we’d like to do with him first.”
“Like what?”
He leans forward and sets his elbows on the table, his palms touching like a tent. “That depends on you.”
I sit back and widen my legs, not liking where this is going, but knowing I need to listen. “How so?”
Frank purses his lips and taps his fingertips against one another. “You’ve got balls, kid. First, you come into my club and pose as a friend, only to get dirt on our family. I should have you dragged out of here and sink your body into the Lower New York Bay!” he yells, seething out the words. “I trusted you. Brought you into my business and gave you responsibility. My guys out there have waited years for that kind of privilege, and what do you do? You cocksucking prick of a cop, you come in here and try to put me in prison.”
His face is red as he points at my face with every curse. His sneer shows pure disgust, and for the first time since I walked in here, I’m
