Here and Gone Page 6

  Franky walked around the car, intending to pull it into a parking spot, but a limo blocked his way. He leaned against the passenger door to wait. He wasn’t in a hurry anyway. He had a solid hour before Antonio would want to sneak out of the show. Antonio never stayed anywhere for the length of time he promised. He called it an insurance policy. If everyone knew where and when he would be, his permanent residence would be six feet under.

  The driver of the limo walked around and opened the back door. Garrett Costa stepped out. He straightened his tux and then reached his hand back to help his wife out of the limo. Franky shivered at the sight of Costa. He found Mr. Costa to be one of the scariest men he had ever met. Even scarier than Antonio. Not that he’d ever say that to Antonio. Or near Antonio. Antonio was like a bulldog, even more than his short, squat, muscled stature showed. You knew Antonio could do damage and inflict fear and pain. Antonio’s power was raw. Mr. Costa was the complete opposite of Antonio, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. People saw Costa and let their guard down. He was poised and polished, so those around him took for granted what was underneath. One day others would see what Franky could now.

  Costa’s wife stepped out of the limo. She was a princess if Franky had ever seen one. Beautiful and spiteful. He had heard stories about her tantrums. She got what she wanted, when she wanted it, and no one was stopping her. Franky found her annoying. He wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Breaking things to get Daddy’s attention seemed pointless. If you wanted something, go out and get it, don’t cry and stomp your foot. But, it seemed to work for Mrs. Costa. From the rumors, she always got what she wanted.

  Franky dropped his cigarette, but before he could look down to stomp it out with the toe of his boot, the woman exiting the limo behind Mrs. Costa caught his attention. She was beautiful. More than beautiful. A goddess. The most enchanting woman Franky’d ever seen. Well, girl, he thought. She looked a year or two younger than his nineteen years. Franky wanted her. He stood statue still, watching her pause to talk to the Costas. She must have felt his stare because she looked his way. Their eyes locked. Franky stopped breathing when she sent a tentative smile his way. Heat flushed Franky’s face, causing him to blush like a school girl. He wanted to look away but couldn’t. His gaze locked on hers. Color rose in her cheeks as she looked away and headed for the theater. She never looked back again.

  Franky changed his mind about moving the car and stayed where he was, hoping to see the beauty again. Thoughts of her flooded his mind as he waited for Antonio. He paced the length of the car, deep in thought. How could he meet her? He needed to see her again. Oh, what was the point? What would she think of a lowly driver? She exited a limo while he was the guy always holding the door. And, he always would be if he didn’t step up and show Antonio he was worth keeping around. She was the beauty to his beast. Their worlds would only ever collide when she needed a lift somewhere. What was he thinking? He wasn’t good enough for her.

  She was the kind of girl that you changed for. One you changed who you were to be with forever. The kind that made you dream of a house with kids and a dog. The kind of girl that made you want to come home at night. Franky’s mother used to be that kind of girl before his father broke her spirit. Now, even Franky didn’t want to come home at night. Seeing his mother cower in the corner was heartbreaking.

  “Let’s go.”

  Franky snapped his head up at the sound of Antonio’s voice. He usually had to wait longer until Antonio was ready to sneak out. Franky wondered if something had spooked him.

  “Excuse me? Antonio?” Garrett Costa came up behind Antonio. Frank had his hand on the pistol tucked into the back of his pants but paused before pulling it out. He took a step forward, placing his body between Antonio and Costa. Garrett Costa may not seem threatening now, in his expensive tuxedo, but the wolf in sheep’s clothing image fluttered through his head. Franky kept his hand on the gun, just in case.

  “Do you mind if I have a moment of your time?” Costa asked Antonio, his voice smooth.

  “Ya, ya, of course. You find the show as boring as me?” Antonio asked. Antonio’s voice sounded like he chewed on gravel compared to Costa’s.

  Costa covered a grimace of dislike with a smooth smile while motioning Antonio to the side, away from Franky. Franky stepped back and leaned against the car casually but kept his eyes locked on the men and his hand on the butt of his gun. His muscles were tensed to spring into action, if needed. The families had been known to turn on one another in the past. The power shifts used to happen frequently, but since Antonio and Costa had taken over, the power had seemed more secure. Franky had heard enough about the past and had read enough in the newspapers to stay alert.

  Costa looked completely at ease while Antonio had his guard up. The bulldog analogy still applied. Antonio’s hackles were raised, but Franky could see them slowly going down. As the conversation went on, Antonio’s body language slowly shifted. He took a step closer to Costa, squaring his shoulders to him instead of being turned away, preparing to bolt. Costa’s body never changed or shifted. He could have been discussing the weather, the show they had just left, or planning a massacre. The man always looked at ease and in control. It must be why he was able to gain control of the family at such a young age, barely pushing thirty years. He was definitely someone to pay attention to.

  Franky studied Costa, taking in his body language and facial expressions. Franky felt that he could learn a lot from the man, even from a distance. Franky recognized the looks he got from strangers passing him on the street. Franky exuded danger. His face always reflected that of a boxer going in for the knockout punch. Fearless. Determined. Scary. He had used it to his advantage in the past, but now realized the benefits of blending in more. He didn’t plan on being just the muscle for Antonio. He wanted a piece of the pie, and he was smart enough to know that he needed to grow into what the boss was looking for in a partner.

  Antonio and Costa shook hands and headed in opposite directions. Franky had the door open and waited for Antonio to enter the back seat, but instead, Antonio moved to sit in the front seat with Franky. Franky shook his head slightly and shut the door.

  In the front seat, Antonio was quiet and pensive. Franky left him to his thoughts while he concentrated on how to find out who the woman was with Costa. Maybe Antonio had some business that would bring Franky in her path again. One could only hope.

  Franky drove through the bright streets. Everything about Vegas was over the top. The lights, the gambling, the drinking, and, especially, the shows. Franky enjoyed the indulgences while still feeling disgusted with them. Growing up with nothing—well, less than nothing really—made a man want to hold onto whatever he earned. Franky had a growing nest egg already while the tourists who came here only wanted the excess. Too many people to count had lost their life’s earnings at the tables. Franky wouldn’t be one of them.

  “Franky, tell me, what do ya think of Garrett Costa?” Antonio’s question pulled Franky from his thoughts, but the distraction was welcome. Franky was hoping for an opening to ask about the woman with Costa and Antonio had given it to him.

  “He’s smart.”

  “But, is he trustworthy?”

  “What are you getting at, Mr. Bianchi?” Franky tried to feel out what Bianchi was looking for instead of answering and putting his foot in his mouth.

  “If it came down between Milano and Costa, who would you put your money on?”

  Franky thought for a moment before answering. Picking the wrong pony could lead to a very short life with these men. Costa’s age went for and against him. In one regard, it brought forward thinking. Being able to look at how the world was changing and adapt to it. It prevented him from being stuck with ‘because that’s the way it is.’ Franky hated that saying. He wanted answers and reasoning for not changing and adapting. On the negative side, Costa hadn’t quite yet garnered the respect that old man Milano had. Milano headed up the third family that ruled Las Vegas and had thirty years on Co
sta on how to manage the family. Costa’s power was clear, but did he really have the long-term holding potential that Milano did?

  Micky Milano had controlled the Milano family since before Franky was born. He ruled with an iron fist. Shooting first and asking questions later. He had taken control after the Kefauver Hearings of the 1950s. A Tennessee senator named Estes Kefauver had gone on an organized crime hunt across America. The Las Vegas trials had only lasted a day, but they opened the doorway for any families in need of restructuring. Micky Milano had risen to the top of his family after only a few years and had stayed there. His most trusted allies tended to “retire” after only a few years. This paved the way for a new set. Milano kept his cards close to his chest. It always surprised Franky that Milano had a never-ending line of men wanting to work close to him. To Franky, it was a dead-end job. Literally and figuratively.

  “I’d put my money on Costa,” Franky said after much thought. He rubbed his jaw with his right hand. The left hand still on the steering wheel, keeping the car straight and on track. They were about a mile from the hotel and Franky’s time was running short on how to broach the subject of his dream girl. She was quickly coming to be his top priority.

  “Explain yourself.”

  “Milano is tough, but he rules with fear. He’s had control for as long as I can remember and then some. The constant change-over and killing sprees get old. His crews are primed for the taking. They will want a safer choice. Well, as safe as you can get in this line of work. Costa has the brains to manipulate that weakness. He’ll get Milano’s guys wanting to switch teams without them even knowing it. And they’ll be fool enough to go, thinking it’s a safer bet.”

  “You don’t think it would be?”

  “Hell no. Costa could never really trust them so he’ll keep them low man as a precaution. Any one of them that makes a move to climb the ladder will never stay up long. Costa may look smooth, but he’s deadly and smart.” Franky chanced a glance at Bianchi. “What’s he planning, Boss?”

  “Nuttin’, nuttin’. I was just playing around with some stuff.” Antonio turned his head to look out the passenger window, pretending to be interested in sights he’d seen a million times.

  “Boss, you mind if I ask you something?” Franky tried for a casual tone.

  “Sure, kid.”

  “Who was the broad with Costa and his wife? I’ve never seen her around before.” Antonio turned back to Franky, a knowing look in his eyes.

  “The wife’s cousin, I guess. Her folks were just killed over in Ohio. Car accident, or so they say. Name’s Gracie.”

  Franky stopped at a red light. They were only a block from the hotel, almost home. Frank decided to try his luck with asking about the girl some more, but as he turned to Antonio, another car pulled alongside them. The glint of a gun’s barrel poking through the open window.

  Chapter Eight

  “Tell me about your Uncle Bob. I hear he’s your guy?” I emphasized each word.

  Gray glanced at me before turning his eyes back to the road. We were headed back to the Magari. Dinner had wrapped up rather uneventfully. Dessert had been served with coffee and a side of tension. Michael seemed to like the idea of having me as a daughter-in-law while Mary Francis was definitely set against it. Dead set against it. I felt comfortable in my analysis since she used those exact words.

  Thankfully, Uncle Bob had my back. He raved for the rest of the meal about what a great addition I would make to the family since Gray and I did our thing and rarely came to Vegas anyway.

  “I knew you’d like him,” Gray said.

  “I loved him. How in the world is it possible that he and your mother are related?”

  “God only knows. What do you want to know?”

  “What does he do?”

  “Nothing,” Gray said.

  “Where does he live?”

  “Nowhere.”

  “Where does he go?” I asked.

  “Everywhere.”

  “I’m going to need more words, please.” I poked Gray in the side.

  “Uncle Bob was a surprise to Grandma and Grandpa. He’s only ten years older than me. Mom was almost twenty when he was born.”

  “You said ‘Mom.’”

  “What am I supposed to call her?”

  “You usually call her ‘Mother.’”

  “That’s because that’s what she wants to be called. ‘There’s nothing wrong with being formal and polite’ is what she always says.” Gray mimicked his mother’s voice, high-pitched and elegant.

  “Okay, so your mom was twenty when Bob was born. They seem so different.”

  “They are night and day. Mom stands on formality and politeness and appearance while Bob likes to break the barriers,” Gray said.

  “But what does he do?” I asked again.

  “Nothing. He’s a jet-setting playboy. I hardly even know where he is in the world or who he is with. He hasn’t worked a day in his life. My grandparents died shortly after Bob turned eighteen, leaving him and Mom all of their money.”

  “And your trust fund?”

  “Yes. My siblings and I all have trust funds.” Gray recently came clean about his trust fund while we were in Chicago. I’d had no idea of the amount of money available to him at a moment’s notice. The revelation had shocked me. I still felt uncomfortable knowing I didn’t have to pinch my pennies any longer. I still would out of habit. Their money could just as easily be taken away. I glanced at my purse, feeling the weight of the American Express Black Card recently added to my wallet. I’d yet to use it, still making purchases on my trusty debit card with my small income from writing.

  “If Bob is a playboy, how can he be your guy?”

  “From the outside, he may look the part of the rich playboy, but he’s not. He’s got his fingers in any illegal activities wherever he is. He doesn’t necessarily take part, but he makes contact. He has to for his own safety.”

  “Why? What do you mean?”

  “He’s the brother-in-law of a major crime family. He could be kidnapped or killed as retaliation against my father.”

  I hesitated in asking but forced myself. “Like his son and daughter-in-law?”

  Gray let some time lapse before answering while I held my breath. “Yes, Regan. There could be moments where we are in danger. But, I didn’t grow up in this life without learning a few things along the way.” Gray rested his hand on my knee. For once, the touch didn’t give me comfort. My mind reeled at the possibility of living a dangerous life. Once again, I was forced to question my choices. I needed to think long and hard about entering into this marriage. Even more so than the potential risks.

  Blue-and-red flashing lights from police cars blocked the entrance to the hotel. Gray continued on the road and then pulled into the garage at the Magari.

  “I wonder what that’s about?” Gray asked.

  “Probably from the jumper earlier,” I suggested.

  “Their lights wouldn’t be on if this weren’t something new.” Gray turned off the car. “I’ll walk you up, but I’d feel better about staying here with you.”

  The thought made me jump. I needed some space to digest the information from the evening. I wouldn’t be able to think clearly with Gray’s body pressed against mine.

  “No. I mean, I love it, but it’s just...” I stopped talking. Gray took a step back and extended his arm toward the hotel entrance. I followed the path while Gray walked next me but didn’t touch me.

  “Regan, I’d feel safer being here with you.”

  “I’m just tired. What’s the big deal? I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I’ve told you the big deal.” Irritation flashed across Gray’s face.

  “So, I’m supposed to feel safe with you and your family, but not here?” I turned away from Gray and continued to follow the hallway. Like cattle being led to the slaughter, we followed the way to the casino. We had to cross through the room full of machines to reach the elevators.

  “You shouldn’t
feel safe with anyone but me. Not here in Vegas.”

  “I’ll take the warning to heart, but I’m staying here. I want to spend time with my sister. And, if it’s so dangerous, how could I leave her?” I didn’t give him time to answer before I kept talking. “Tell me more about the family things,” I said, hoping to distract him from our disagreement. I reached out with my hand and tucked it inside of his as we walked.

  “The family?”

  “You know, like what you were telling me earlier today.”

  “Oh, the family, you mean. Well, let’s see...” Gray looked around the casino.

  “How about more on the hierarchy? I find it interesting that the family is similar to a corporation.”

  “A deadly corporation,” Gray said. “Let’s see, when Frank was being trained by Antonio, he was considered an Underboss. He was Antonio’s mouthpiece.”

  “Are Sal and Tony Frank’s Underbosses?”

  “Yes and no. They are Frank’s mouthpieces, but unlike Frank, they have no real power. Frank was the second most powerful person under Antonio,” Gray said.