Like I give a shit what you think, pal, I think, feeling a little cockier now that I realize that Papa and Max are safe.
“The situation you find yourself in this evening isn’t as simple as you probably believe it to be, Mr. Valenti.”
What situation? I force myself to settle back in Mama’s chair and cross an ankle over my knee in an effort to match this asshole’s nonchalant manner.
He appears mildly amused by my play. “Aren’t you curious to know how your predicament isn’t quite what you think?”
“I can do without the cat-and-mouse bullshit. I figure you’ll eventually get to the point.”
“Ah, a man who likes to cut to the chase,” he retorts in a mocking tone. His voice hardens as he continues, “There are two interests to be served where you are concerned, Mr. Valenti.”
I silently wait for him to continue.
“The first is the obvious concern that someone is anxious to see your father draw his final breath as soon as possible.”
There’s a news flash, I think, but dare not say.
“The business with your father from the old country isn’t our chief concern, though.”
He looks as if he expects a response. I stay silent.
“It may surprise you to learn that we have a keen interest in the lawsuit that Windy City Sky Tours has filed against your client,” he continues. “We’re also monitoring the claim Senator Milton has filed against our friends at Windy City and AAA Avgas.”
What the hell?
“You see, Mr. Valenti, we and our friends have a mutual interest in seeing that R & B Ramp Services is found to be at fault in that unfortunate incident over Lake Michigan. If not fully at fault, then at least primarily so.”
I drop my foot to the floor and lean forward with my elbows braced on my knees to lock eyes with the intruder. His connection to AAA Avgas cements my earlier suspicion that this guy is Mafia. By all accounts, AAA Avgas is a wholly owned holding of the Luciano criminal empire. “You, whoever you are, are colluding with Windy City against my client?”
“Now, now, Mr. Valenti. Let’s be civilized about this, shall we?”
The Luciano family civilized? Right. I wave an open hand between him and me. “You find this civilized? Me and you having a nice chat in my home, which you’ve just broken into?”
His eyes flash. “You really don’t want to antagonize me, Mr. Valenti.”
Fuck that. “You’re here on behalf of the Luciano family, aren’t you? What the hell’s your name, anyway?”
The eyes flash again, this time dangerously. He ignores my question about the Luciano family. His voice takes on a harsh edge when he replies, “You can call me Joe.”
Right. “Joe,” I parrot with dripping sarcasm.
He uncrosses his strapping legs and adopts my aggressive pose so that our noses are two feet apart. I stare into his dead eyes and battle the instinct to back off… and the sudden urge to wet my pants.
“Your clients were offered an opportunity to work with Windy City on this, weren’t they?” he asks.
I don’t reply.
“So they’ve made their choice. Or perhaps you made it for them, and this is where you now find yourselves. Perhaps that should serve as a lesson to you, Mr. Valenti. Never mind little old me,” he says as he settles back into his seat. “Worry about those Windy City motherfuckers. Man, in some respects we’re choirboys in comparison. At least we have some scruples and a sense of honor in our own way—even if people like you fail to appreciate it.”
I can’t even begin to formulate a response, at least not one that won’t antagonize this prick.
“Where is your father?” he asks sharply.
“I already told you what I know.”
“If you’ll excuse the harshness of the term, Mr. Valenti, I believe you’ve just told me to go fuck myself.”
Like I’m going to confirm that. Good guess, though.
He drops all pretense of civility. “That isn’t a wise decision. Why not make it easy on yourself and just tell me where Francesco is?” When I don’t reply, he continues, “We’ll find him if we want to, Mr. Valenti. You know that. I’m here tonight to ascertain how cooperative a man you can be.”
Bullshit.
“I must say that I’m disappointed with you so far,” Joe continues. “You don’t wish to disappoint people like me, Mr. Valenti. It’s not healthy.”
The menace that has lurked just below the courteous veneer of the last few minutes is now in the open. What the hell do I do now? There’s no telling what this guy might pull next. If I were to venture a guess, I suspect it will be painful. I meet his dead gaze. Well, fuck him. They don’t have a clue where Papa is and have no idea how to go about tracking him down. If they did, “Joe” wouldn’t be here. I stare him down for a long, intensely unnerving moment before forcing a conversational tone into my voice. “Well, Joe, you obviously don’t know my father.”
A sinister smile spreads over his face. “You probably don’t want me to, Mr. Valenti.”
He’s got that right.
“Papa has always gone his own way,” I say. “The guy who raped his sister found that out the hard way, didn’t he?”
Joe frowns. “We do not approve of what was done to your aunt.”
The bastard’s sanctimonious bullshit rubs me the wrong way. I mean, these people are killers, drug peddlers, pimps, and worse. Stashing Brittany at Pat’s has never seemed more prudent. There’s more to fear in this world than the wrath of my ex-wife.
“How touching, coming from a choirboy like you,” I retort.
Joe purses his lips and gives his head a slow shake while he digests my insult. His cold eyes bore into mine. “Have it your way, Mr. Valenti. I’m afraid you’ll have to live with the responsibility for what happens next.”
Chapter Seventeen
My drinking companion the next evening is a decided improvement on Joe. For starters, I know and like Billy Likens. He
