Preview of "The Desert has no King"

(a chapter will be added each month)




Chapter 1
Desert Breeze

What can I say? I’ve had a good run. I’m riding blindfolded in a classy car with a babe that I’ve been banging to kingdom come, and, that I guess I’ve been in love with since I laid eyes on her. Now we’re in the damn desert at three in the morning where lightning and thunder are having their way with each other. I can smell the rich scent of Opium perfume as Nina sits next to me. Tremors are going through her body as her blindfold soaks up a tear. I know the routine and this scene. Hey, this is Vegas!
It’s funny how keen your senses become when you can’t see a thing. I’m calm... I know the score! I hear the purring of the motor as we drive over bumps and slides of blowing sand. That damned thunder! I never could get used to it. We’re stopping. I can feel Nina’s body tighten. Front car doors open slowly as our escorts step out. A long minute goes by as I feel Nina’s warm breath face me.
“Frankie?” I lean over and whisper to her very low and softly—
“Shhhh. Don’t say anything, sweetheart.”
“Frankie, I love you.”

As I listen to her I know she wants me to say it back, and that this will probably be the last time that I have a chance to say it. I lean over and again smell her perfumed scent that reminds me of our wild, passionate moments.
“Nina, I____” The back car doors opened.
“Come on,” says a low, muffled voice as they grab us by the arms and pull us out.
“What do you want?!!!” Nina cries. Her shouts are ignored as the howling wind blows sharply through the cactus needles.
Our escorts walk us a few yards from the car. The thunder blasts continue, and all I notice now is an aroma from smoke that swirls in the air. Its scent is just like Benediction in church. Our blindfolds are still on, and the smell is so familiar. God, where are we?
With my eyes shut tightly, I have a flash of receiving my first Holy Communion. I am seven years old. Then another flash of myself at age 11, the first day of serving mass as an altar boy. My Father, Mother and Aunt Mary are watching proudly as they receive Holy Communion from the priest. I hold the round gold paten under their chins that keeps particles of the host from falling onto the floor as the school choir sings. Another flash and I am in seventh grade being confirmed by the Bishop as my uncle Amos stands beside me as my sponsor.

I can hear our abductors walking just a few feet away. With another flash of lightning and thunder, the sounds of guns start bursting with pops that echo across the mid-morning range. We can hear the revolution of bullets coming towards us as if they are in maximum slow motion. Nina is hit several times. She’s thrust to the ground by the powerful blow of bullets. Oh yes, my body is also being penetrated with flying lead, as my mind continues to skyrocket into my past.
Finally, I hit the dirt. My face slams against the half buried jagged stones as the sand continues to blow onto our bodies. All has stopped... is that it? It’s pretty quiet… and I don’t feel a thing as my body temperature begins to drop. Is this what is meant by the sound of silence? My eyes are still shut tight. I feel tired, drowsy, and thirsty. I think I’ll just lay here for a moment. I’m… falling asleep. Wow— the thunder has calmed down a little. I can barely hear the roar of the winds...

 

Chapter 2
Where’s the action?

God I remember the first day I set foot into this town.  I didn’t come from very far; just a small beach town outside Los Angeles, California. Twenty eight years old and running from the mob… and escaping to what? I guess I was always looking for some kind of adventurous action. It just happens that my uncles sent me to Las Vegas, Nevada, to lay low, and out of sight for awhile. Well, here I am dying from living in the fast lane again.

Even at St. John’s Catholic school in Norwalk, where I grew up as a child, I was in the sixth grade when I brought my first deck of cards to school. I got a poker game started on the lunch grounds with kids that still were playing hopscotch, four square, and jump rope. Not only were they my cards, but I was the official gaming teacher. I was busted by one of the nuns’ fresh in from Ireland, whom I figured didn’t realize what kind of a card game we were playing.

“Frankie Santos! What kind of games are you playing?” A familiar inquisitive voice from an authority figure blurts out. At first I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Well, Sister Mary Xavier, uh… This card is the Queen, which means that it’s good if you get four of these because they represent our ‘Holy Blessed Mother’. And the King represents God, and if you get four of these, you can win the game and a Rosary!”

Wow, I think I got out of this one, especially with that innocent smile of mine. All of a sudden I felt this big yank on my ear, and I was being dragged up the courtyard to Sister Superior’s office. I wonder if they’re still using those damn wooden yardsticks on school kids.

I remember going to the race track while I was still in high school. I was actually making a run for a couple of my teachers who loved betting the horses. I found out their bad habit and they found out mine. We ran into each other at the same track. Hush was the word. Anyway, I got some bums to make the bets for me since I wasn’t of legal age.  I couldn’t even get inside because I wasn’t old enough. At the time in California race tracks, you had to be 21 years of age. I got to know this guy name Patch. They called him that because he always wore a patch on his left eye. I would’ve called him dead eye, but I guess that would’ve been inappropriate. We became friends because he would make bets for people outside the wire fence who only had a couple of bucks, and didn’t want to pay admission. Patch would make bets for them, bring them back their ticket, and if they won, they would give him a tip. He wouldn’t run off with their money, because too many people knew him and he had been a race track bum for a lot of years. He really was a nice guy.

One day I hit the daily double for $985 bucks, which was a ton of money for a high school kid in those days. I ran down to the far end of the track and jumped over the fence. Security guards didn’t see me. I went looking for Patch. I found him pretty well sauced from too much wine. I wanted to cash the winning ticket and I knew the cashier would question my age. I hoped that Patch might be sober enough to cash it for me.

As I gave him the ticket, a security guard came up to me and asked for my I.D. I showed him my driver’s license which read that I was only 16.  As I was being dragged off the premises, I was yelling back at Patch to meet me outside the gate. He yelled back, “Just wait for me and ____” Well after and hour, I knew I got the screws, and the race events were over. I went home as a little depression set in. The next day I went back to racetrack, and again a few more times during the week, and never saw Patch again. I read in the sports page a couple of days later that they found a body in the racetrack parking lot in the middle of the night. But there was no description of the person.

*I’m still laying here with that damn sand blowing all over my body. I can hear that thunder again. I wonder how Nina is... She’s pretty quiet.  I hope she’s alive. I can still smell that aroma in the air. It has a scent of smoke mixed with incense.  I don’t hear the car motor anymore... just the howling of the desert wind.  So why am I here?

I lived a life of risk. I always had a bet on what seemed to be a sure thing. When I did hit, I increased the risk. “Let it ride, Baby!!!” The adrenalin and the rush made life exciting. Then I get kicked in the nuts with a big loss, and I’m back to square one. I need to get a fast buck so I can make a fast buck!  I had a lot of jobs, and got fired a lot because I didn’t like being told what to do. I was surviving for the action anyway. At the age of 22, my wife couldn’t handle it anymore, so she bailed out on me along with my only son. Seems she liked to take a bigger risk in life than I did— she married me...Ha!  No, it’s not very funny. We brought a child into the world and now he’s out of my life.  Hell, we we’re both only kids ourselves when she got pregnant. Seventeen is a crazy and wild age. Although I wasn’t stupid, I did a lot of stupid things.

I had an uncle who was a horse racing bookie most of his life. He always said, ‘No man should take the same drugs he deals out’! Racehorse gambling was a drug. He was a race horse player from the old days and learned the hard way. He’d make a big score at the track on hitting the daily double, the exacta, or the trifecta, and walked around like a King for life. In the next couple of days, it would all be gone. That’s enough to make anyone suicidal.

One day he decided to become the bank. Uncle Sonny wasn’t interested in making a killing and living in luxury. He was out to make a few bucks and live in comfort. He also hated working for anyone. Under the sign of our birthday, that’s the way we Scorpios are. He saw that I had become a racehorse bum and losing my ass a lot. We all have the same symptoms. The big one is… borrowing money from any acquaintances, best friends, or hitting on relatives. That’s a mortal sin in itself.

Uncle Sonny took me aside one day and said, “Enough! You’re in debt and you owe too many people money. Now you’re hitting on your grandmother for money!” I looked at him like I was innocent. But he wasn’t buying it. He stared at me for a moment... “It’s in your family blood. You’re high-spirited and you want to live in the fast lane. I’m going to teach you to stop being a degenerate with the horses. You’re going to be the bank, and you must promise me that you will never take your own poison,” he says as he looked me firm in the eyes.

Of course I said, “Okay—”

He took me in as a junior partner and I paid close attention to everything he taught me. As he made his small profits, he was wise enough to invest in real estate.  I on the other hand, had bigger dreams.  I wanted the fast cars, the jewelry, and the stud duds! I was making money on the side without my uncle knowing because I knew he would be pissed.

We didn’t see eye to eye on this business. I loved my uncle, but the money came so easy from the sucker horse players. I took in bigger bets than my Uncle Sonny did, and of course made bigger profits.  I could lose a grand one day, and make it back with a little more profit the next. I also increased my clientele that had the big bucks. I really didn’t need my uncle anymore as a partner.  We we’re in two different worlds.  He was a great guy, but at the age of pushing 60, he was settling for less than what I wanted. He got most of his clientele from local neighborhood bars in East L.A.  I picked up my customers from word of mouth anywhere from downtown Los Angeles to the beaches of Malibu. The degenerates of Beverly Hills, including the little bastards from high school that were selling dope and acting like big shots in front of the chicks by playing the ponies. The best part of the deal was that I was getting my share of playing around with those little rich honeys. Hey, I checked their I.D’s. Gee, a fake I.D. around Beverly Hills? Yeah...Right! The one vice I ain’t getting into though is dope. No coke!! No Snow!! No Ice!! Whatever you want to call it—One day, I decided to talk to my Uncle Sonny and break the news that I needed to split up with him.  I couldn’t tell him about the profits I was making behind his back because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.  I walked into his favorite bar, the ‘Mambo Club’, where everybody knew his name. As I was approaching him, he seemed to be having a good time as he was pounding down his beer, telling jokes, and laughing with his buddies.

“Sonny,” I called out to him across the bar.
“Hey, it’s my favorite nephew, Frankie. Look everybody, it’s Frankie!” The crowd is friendly and in good spirits as they greet me. I’m sure most of them are on a buzz.
“Hey uncle, can I talk to you?”
“Sure Frankie, is everything okay?”
“Yeah— sure. Uh, can we talk over there?” I took him over to the corner and told him that I needed to move on. He looked at me for a long minute. I wasn’t sure what he was going to say. “I’m sorry Uncle Sonny, but I need more.” He continued his long stare at me. Finally—
“I know!” he says in a low tone. “This is your nature son. I’ve watched you grow up, and you always wanted the fast pace and the action. You are a lot like your dad, may his soul rest in peace. You like sexy ladies, fast cars, and plenty of cash has to go with that territory. You love the risk. I’ve always told you ‘the greater the risk, the greater the return’. But Frankie, I gotta tell you, sometimes there’s a great price to pay if you get careless.” I just look at him and said… “I know Sonny... I know.” My uncle just gave that gentle smile and yelled over to the bartender.

“Hey Henry..! Two more beers and a couple of shots of Cuervo Gold for my nephew Frankie and me. He’s going on a long journey. He’s going on a very long journey.”

We had our shots of Tequila, and I gave my uncle a hug and told him I’d see him at the next family outing. I left the bar and stood outside next to my Mustang. I stared at it for a moment and decided I needed something a little flashier. I headed straight to the car dealership. I know I would get a good deal on the ’65 model. I was in and out in a flash. When I see something I like, I’m get’n it!!! I felt like a million bucks with my new Porsche.  It was only five years old, but it had class. It’s my silver streak. I feel like a soaring eagle ready to conquer the world.

 

Chapter 3
Let the party begin you bastards

The next day I called up all my clients and notified them that my betting limits are up. I figured I’d get more action than the other local bookies. I was right. However my limits were still considered small to
some, but I had to be careful not to go over my head. My action picked up and I was getting real busy, especially around the beach areas in Orange County. I always loved the beaches. What a great atmosphere. I had a lot of business in the L.A. area, but I found new life and great action along the coast. The problem was I had to do a lot of driving around when I collected from the losers. Driving from one end of the city to the other was just too much.

I hired a couple of guys I’ve known for years as kids. We were like family back then. They had their lifestyle, and I had mine. They did their time in juvenile hall and a short time in the county jail for gang member activity. Leo Vidaurri and Mondo Mazon were out of work and hung around the Mambo Club, where my uncle did his business. I gave them a couple of “C” notes a week... in layman’s terms, that’s $200 bucks a week, and they could still collect their unemployment, or
welfare checks. All I wanted to do was collect the cash from my looser clients, and if they couldn’t pay, to make sure they did. They didn’t look like intimidating guys, but they were street fighters and former
gang members as teenagers. They got a second chance in life by getting away from bad company. It was tough for them to get decent jobs because of their police records. So you do what you can to
survive.

I was still considered small potatoes to many associates that knew me.But it was a growing business and I couldn’t keep working out of my apartment or car. I went to a nearby beach town a few miles from where I grew up to have lunch d a cold beer. As I sat by the pier and stared out at the ocean, it felt so good with the sun beating down on me… and breathing the fresh salt air. I was thinking how great it would be to set up a small business here. A restaurant, bar, coffee house— just a good business and front for my enterprise. I walked along the sidewalks of Seal Beach and found a vacant store
for lease. I called the phone number on the sign. I met with the landlord to check the inside layout. I believe I’ve found my little sports bar and grill. I signed a lease, and I was in business. The
‘Seaside Sports Bar & Grill’ of Seal Beach was going to have a grand opening. I furnished this place with lots of sports memorabilia, and enough TV’s for everyone to watch their favorite sport.
It was spring and a perfect time for both businesses. I had race horse player’s action throughout Huntington Beach, Newport Beach, and Laguna Beach going south down to San Clemente. There’s a nearby race track called Los Alamitos where there was year round horse racing. From thoroughbreds, quarter horses to harness racing, this was a daily event, and the gamblers couldn’t always get there on time to bet their ‘hot tip of the day’. I covered Santa Anita and Hollywood Park race tracks as well. A few times I would take action on races in Northern California at Bay Meadows race track. I’m their convenience, and always available. I’ve been pretty lucky. I haven’t been tapped by the cops. I’ve managed to stay ahead of the game.

I had to get a manager for my bar and grill. You always get a beautiful chick to work the sports bar. It’s a guy thing. They’ll come automatically to eat and drink all day, and yell at their favorite team
while eyeballing the honey that runs the bar. The best part about Michele being my manager is that she is ‘Hot Looking’, and a smart business person. She’s around in her mid 20’s and seems to run a tight
ship with a warm friendly personality. The customers like her, and
that’s what it takes for the business to succeed. Yeah, I was attracted to her, but I had to keep that to myself and not screw up the business. I noticed there was always some older looking rich dude visiting her. Maybe it wasn’t any of my business. He always drove very expensive cars. He’s probably a gangster. I have a weakness with women, especially with dolls like her. I always seem to be testing the waters with these babes.

It was the start of summer and almost a year has gone by. The beach weather was perfect. My sports bar was doing great, and my horse biz was even better. I was netting about two grand a week taking in bets. For a one man operation at my age, it was a great living. Leo and Mondo were still on my payroll, so to speak, and they have been loyal and great collectors. Leo likes to pack a pistol for protection. It’s not my style and I try not to deal with clients of that nature. I just hope that they don’t get busted by the cops.

Michele noticed the way I was living in style, and she couldn’t believe it was all the income from the sports bar. “So Frankie...” Michele gives me that curious suspicious look.
“Yeah, hot stuff,” I said with a flirt. A small term of endearment I
threw at her.
“I take off for a couple of days, and now I see a new Porsche in
your parking spot.”
“Well, I had that last one for a couple of years and it was used. So I
thought it was time to step up.” Michele looked at me like I was either
out of my mind or I had hidden treasures. “You wanna sit in it and feel
the moment?”

She developed a big smile that seemed to say ‘I’m all yours big guy.’ Or was that just my imagination? We stepped outside and I opened the car door for her on the driver’s side. As she slipped onto
my sheepskin covered seat ass first, she gave me that smile again. As she turned facing the steering wheel, her skirt scooted halfway up her tanned thighs. What could be more radiant or exciting than to see this voluptuous dream girl getting into my ‘Babe Mobile’?

“Frankie, you know class.” She comments with a mellow tone. My mind is starting to get creative like I’m on an Island with this chick.
“I’ll take you for a spin later. Uh, how do you like the sheepskins?”
“They feel so good on my legs,” she says in a confident seductive voice. I couldn’t help but stare at those golden limbs. “Frankie!” she says in the same tone. I shook myself out of a trance.
“Oh yeah, I thought I saw a little dirt spot on them— I mean the sheepskins!” Again with that look that she gave me. God, don’t let me weaken.

We walked back into the sports bar. I glanced out the window and saw a shinny black and gold Lexus car pull in front. I recognized the man in the passenger side. He was a regular client of mine; a man who loves and has a max addiction for playing the ponies. What the hell is he doing here?! I don’t like my clients coming to my place of business. I looked over to Michele, and she was entertaining the customers. I got a little concerned. Danny McCracken was a big over weight guy about 40 years old. Besides loving the ponies, he likes to play with the ladies of the evening and throw drug parties at his beach house where they all blew snow. He made a little fortune building houses along the Orange County Coast. He was a heavy bettor compared to my usual clients. I didn’t mind losing a couple of grand to him in a week because I would eventually get it back in a short time. He just can’t stop betting the nags. “Hey Mac, welcome to my humble sports bar and grill.”

“Looks like a nice set up you got here Frankie,” he says with an Irish accent. He’s always got to have a hard grip when he shakes your hand. It’s tough to put a hard grip on his somewhat callus fat hand.
“So Mac, what brings you out this way? How about a beer for you and uhhh… Brutus?” Just what I need visiting me, is another burly looking uneducated, unshaven and bored with the living, chump of a
guy.
“The name is Bruno— and don’t mine if I have a cold one. They on
Ice?”
“The coldest Bruno— and sorry, I’m out of beer nuts!” Maybe I got a little sarcastic.
“Damn! Tanks anyway.” Bruno kept casing out the place. I gave him a stare with a small grin and moved on...
“Let’s go over here in my little corner, Mac. What can I do for you?” I gave Michele a wave for three schooners of beer.
“Well Frankie, I came to pick up the money from the exacta I hit at the track today.”
“Mac, I just got the results about an hour ago. I was going to come by your office tomorrow.”
“I was in the neighborhood and I thought I’d save you the trouble of delivering it.” Mac was not the most impressionable guy in the world. He always wore sagging pants and shirt with different shades of paint drippings on them.

“Mac, I don’t have that kind of money here, and you know that I don’t have pony players hanging around to pay or collect from here.” I wondered if I said that too strong. And of course fucking Bruno was on cue with a snort. “Where’s the brew?”

I saw Michele looking... and giving me the ‘I’ll be right over signal’.
“It’s coming Bruno.” He must think he’s at home with his old lady.
“Frankie, I had a good hit on the exacta and I really need the money
right away. $5,800 is a lot of money and I really need it now.”
“Mac, I just don’t carry that kind of money here. How about I bring
it by tomorrow?”

As Mac casually looks around the bar uneasy, I see he has something on his mind.
“Looks like business is great, Frankie.”
“It’s okay Mac, but I can’t get you the money until tomorrow.
You’re not worried about it, are you?” He gave me one of those long thinking looks.

“Here are your beers Frankie.” Michele seemed to time that right.
“Thanks Michele. Michele, this is Mac and Bruno. This is my
manager, Michele.”
“Nice to meet you gentlemen. If you need anything else, just wave.” Both guys smiled and I could see what they were thinking.
“Thanks Michele.” Mac says as he sips his beer and creates a foamy mustache on his upper lip.
“I’ll be in the office in a few minutes,” I said to Michele. As she walked away, I can see Mac and Bruno give her an eye shot as though they’ve been away in the state penitentiary for awhile.
“Who the fuck is that?!—and what times the ‘Wet T-shirt’ contest?”
“Down Bruno. He didn’t mean anything by that, Frankie.” Mac seemed to have little more manners than his stooge. I got us back on track on why Mac was here.
“Yeah, well, I’ll bring the money in the morning. Okay?”
Mac thought for a split second... “Please Frankie, first thing in the a.m.”
“Sure thing Mac. Is there a problem?” He seemed edgy again.
“Nah..! Beer taste good,” he says as a little more foam dribbles down his chin.

Something was wrong. Well, I’m not going to worry the fuck about it. Everybody’s got their problems. I gotta pay the bastard the $5,800 tomorrow. God, I hate parting with those bucks. They finally got the
hell out of my bar. The one thing I haven’t told them is that I was getting hit hard by some heavy bettors. Yeah, I like living like a big shot. I lost about $30,000 the last couple of weeks, and this week,
about half of that, but I know I’ll get it back. So Mac is hitting me up at a bad time. But I’m still able to pay him off.

“You’re buddies eyes like to undress the women in this place.”
“So you noticed, huh Michele?”
“Who are those guys, Frankie?”
“Just a couple of bozos I’ve known for a while.” It seems that girls have a natural habit to be nosey about a guy and their acquaintances. Usually it means they’re interested in you and your personal life. As she swayed away, I caught myself falling into little trance.

*I’m still laying here in the sand and that sound of howling wind
seems to be fading away. My mouth is so dry. “Nina... Nina.” I could
barely hear my whisper as well as my thoughts. That damn thunder
and lightning acting up again. Fucking sand is getting in my mouth
and nose. Please god, why am I__? Wait— I hear some kind of music
and voices? Yes. But I can’t get my eyes open… and damn, I’m thirsty.
I can still smell the aroma of smoke and incense. I bet I’m in fucking
hell and my body is burning! That’s it!
“Stop that fucking thunder!!!!!” My throat is sore and I can’t even
hear myself anymore. Nina...Talk to me baby.

 

Chapter 4
Knowing me and knowing you

It was close to 11 p.m. and in this small town of Seal Beach, except for a couple of bars that have been in business for a few decades, it closes down pretty early during the week days. I saw Michele saying good night to one of our favorite customers and friends. She has a way with older men and making them feel good.
“Michele, it’s almost last call and I gotta finish some paper work in the office.”
“There’s a few people left Frankie and I’ll let you know when I’m ready to lock the door.” Michele was a good manager and knew how to end the day with people who still wanted to stay and keep drinking. Finally the last two customers were on their way out.
    “Good night guys.” They had big smiles as Michele walked them to the door.
    “Hey Michele, when we gonna run off to Rosarito Beach and get a real Mexican dinner and have a honeymoon?”
“Sorry Tuna melt. You’ve been working on that fishing boat too long. If I have a honeymoon with you, then we gotta get married… and our children will have to live on fish because I’ll be pregnant all the time and can’t work. I’m Catholic you know.”
    “Ah, I’m 55, and can’t have children” slurs the old fisherman as he’s held by his pal.
    “Oh bummer... Make sure he gets home okay Ozzie, and I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
    “Okay sweetheart. Come on Tuna melt. You gotta get up at 3 a.m. and get that fishing boat of yours out on time to catch the big one.”
    “I gotta big one for you to catch right now Ozzie— ha!” Tuna melt was feeling no pain for the night.
    “Good night boys.” Michele closed and secured the door. She turned towards the bar room and let out a big sigh.
    “Oh Frankie... The doors are locked, and I’m ready for a drink.”
    “I’m ready for one myself.” It was the end of a good day for the sports bar and here we are winding down.
    “How about a shot of tequila and a beer?” Michele pulls out the gold and I gave her one of those surprised looks. 
    “You do tequila shooters?” 
    “What do you think I am, a wussy girl?”  Michele poured the shooters and a couple of schooners. “Alright, bottoms up Santos.”
     We clicked our shooters and downed it. She gave me the impression this was a regular routine for her. We chased it with our beers. It reminded me of a chug-a-lug contest.
    “Ready for one more?” she says. She really didn’t give me time to answer as she started to pour another round. I thought ‘what the hell, why not?’
    “Okay, one more shooter, but that’s it. You and I have to drive home.”  We clicked our shooters again, and down the hatch it went. We chased it with another beer. I started getting a pretty good buzz. Twenty minutes went by and I thought, ‘Should I bring up the older guy she’s been seeing and find out the stats on him, or leave it alone’?
    “So tell me Michele, what’s the stats on this old man that comes to visit you?”
    “What do you mean, ‘what’s the stats’ on this old man?!”
    “Hey, I’m just concerned about you and I was wondering...uh, what your relationship with him is.” She stared at me for a moment... a very long moment.
    “Are you prying into my personal life?” she says with wide eyes.
    “No. I just wanted to know who he was.”
    “You are prying!” she raises her voice with a touch of anger.
    “Okay— Sorry. I think it’s the tequila talking.” I thought I’d better cool it. She pauses for a moment and then takes another sip of beer.
    “His name is Randall.” She says it like it’s a big deal.
    “Randall! Ha!” I said like a little kid.
    “Ha! What’s so funny?”
    “He doesn’t look like any Randall to me.”
    “What does a Randall look like?” she asks with her eyes looking straight into mine.
    “You know, he looks like uhhh... you know... uhhh...” I got speechless and pounded down another shot of Gold.
“I think you’re jealous!” she says like a snob. Why is it the babes always say it in a cocky way?
“I ain’t got no reason to be jealous over an old... old... man.”
    “Are you crazy? He ain’t old, and he’s handsome... and he’s____” Michele’s at a loss for words.
    “He’s taking you for a ride, and I bet he’s married.” I said as I cut into her reasoning.
    “What makes you say that?” she says as she becomes a little defensive.
    “I noticed the wedding band on his finger when he’s been here.” She gave me a sharp look.
    “I guess you have a habit of looking at guys fingers for a wedding band all the time?”
    “No! Hey, I’m sorry. I’ve known you for about a year and I was just curious.”
   

Michele has been a great manager for my sports bar this past year and I always tried to keep my personal feelings to myself. Randall was an older guy, well, when I say older; he was probably in his mid 40’s, but older than me and her. He would occasionally come into the bar and seem to have a personal interest in her. I never asked her about him. Sometimes I would see her leave with him on her lunch breaks, and sometimes he would pick her up after work. I can tell he had a lot of money because he would drive a Ferrari or a Pantera sports car. I’ve wanted so bad to ask her about him. Hey, maybe he could be a potential client for betting the ponies. Michele was softening up and seemed like she really wanted to tell me something.
    “Here Michele... Have another shot.” I thought I’d better pour a fast one.
    “Are you trying to get me drunk, Santos? She was getting that mild high look.
    “So, what does he do?” I continued to needle her.
“Who..?”
“Randall. And what’s Randall’s last name?” Now I’m getting cocky.
    “Okay. Since we’re talking, his name is ‘Randall De LaParra,’ and he’s into ‘Mortgage Banking’ sales.”
    “What’s he selling in mortgage banking?” I was feeling like a private detective.
    “He sells money. He makes loans to corporations and on commercial properties.”
    “So he’s a loan shark!” I gave her another needle.
    “Oh stop! He runs a big business on making legitimate loans to big corporations. And he’s going to train me to be a Loan Officer.”
    “Okay Michele. Is his wife a loan officer?” I hope I wasn’t pushing it. I think it bothers her a little. Guess I’m still testing the waters. She was in a deep thought for a moment.   
    “I don’t know Frankie. Why are we talking about this anyway?” I think the topic or subject was about to change. “You know Frankie Santos. You’re always playing a mystery man.”
    “What are you referring to?” I asked. Is she starting to pry into my life now?
    “Well, the past few weeks, you always come and go and you never talk about the things you do.”
Is she trying to find out about me because she’s interested or is she just being herself and nosey?
    “You know, you’re getting a little too nosey Ms. St. James.”
    “All I’m saying is a lot of times you aren’t here and you have these weird guys come here asking for you and they all look like there coming here to get something instead of a beer and a burger.” Now I really started getting pissed off.
    “What weird guys?”
    “Well, take your friends Crackers and Pluto. They look like a couple of loan sharks out of the Bronx in New York.”
    “First of all, that’s McCracken and Bruno and it’s none of your fucking business!!!” All of a sudden she got that fire in the eyes look.
    “Don’t you talk to me that way Santos?!! You got these assholes coming into our business and___” I can’t believe what I heard. I stopped her right there.
    “What’s this ‘Our Business’!? This ain’t our business!” I can see that this whole thing is getting out of control.  Michele took a deep breath.
    “What I meant is that I do manage this place and I try to treat it like as if it were my place! And you can kiss my ass if you don’t like the way I run it! As the matter of fact, I’m getting the fuck out of here!!! Where’s my jacket!” She runs into the office and grabs her purse and jacket as I run after her.
    “You know what else Santos? I quit! You don’t need me. You need a dumb bitch you can push around!”
    “Why don’t you shut the fuck up and settle down!” Now, I’m doing the yelling.
Michele reared back and let me have one across my cheek. I wasn’t the type of guy who would hit a girl, but don’t challenge my temper. I picked her up and threw her on the leather chair. She popped back up like a raised hair cat and took another swing at me. This time I grab her arm and we started wrestling. I stopped her from slapping me but I couldn’t stop her from tearing at my new silk shirt. So I gave her a shot and ripped her sleeve from her blouse and she just starred at me for a moment and I froze. We were both huffing and puffing and I, as any guy would do in this situation, grabbed her and gave her the most wild passionate, wet and steamy tongue lashing kiss of her life. I let go and we looked into each others eyes. I smiled and went back to lay another big one on her and she reared back and whacked me across the chops.  My face was not only sore, but bright red from her hand print, and the embarrassment.
    “Now what the fuck are you doing?!” she yells as she’s still somewhat winded.
    “Forget it! I got caught up in the moment and was pretending you were someone else!” I have my pride.
    “No you weren’t. You want me! Admit it! You want me and you want me now!”
    “What kind of perfume are you wearing?” I yelled. Oh crap... Where did that question come from?
    “Opium! You want some?!” she says like a sarcastic bitch.
    “Fuck off! I don’t need or want you.” Now I’m playing hard to get.
    “So what your saying is, if I said ‘O.K. let’s do it now and right here!’ You wouldn’t do me!”
    “That’s right! I get enough beautiful chicks anytime I want!” I said—again with pride.
    “So you’re saying I’m beautiful?” Her tone drops a notch.
I took a long look at her face and then she saw my eyes wander towards her breast and then to her bronzed thighs. She put her hand under my chin and raised me towards her and whispered.
    “Don’t ever take me for granted, abuse or belittle me.” I looked into her eyes and whispered back.

   “Okay.” Then she pulled me onto here body and gave me a passionate kiss and baby, let the trumpets sound. Like any other office affair, I threw everything off my desk and we began to… ‘Squeeze Oranges’. First I kissed her lips hard and she responded passionately. Then I went to the small tattoo on the back of her silk creamy texture shoulder, and softly licked and rubbed my lips around it. The beads of sweat started running down the sides of her cheeks. She started to get up as though she wanted to stop the whole thing. I looked at her deep into her eyes and threw her back onto my desk. I raised her mini skirt to her waist and yanked off her fuscia silky G-string. She just stared at me as I raised and planted her feet onto the desk. Oh God— as I kissed and caressed her ankles and slowly went to her knees, I realized that my heart was rapidly beating. The sweat dripped from my lips onto her thighs. I knew that my life was about to change. I was falling in love with this girl. I continued to gently kiss her inner thighs and entered, if I may, ‘The Garden of God’s Paradise’.

 

.

Chapter 5
What now my love?

What do we say to each other now? I think we’re both in a little shock as well as totally exhausted. We somehow ended up on the large velvet couch and just laid there next to each other for a few minutes just staring at the ceiling and our clothes practically ripped off.
“What now?” she says as her eyes are half mast.
“What do you mean what now?” I thought for a long two seconds. “It was pretty good, Babe.” Her eyes popped open. “Pretty good..?! What was this, another contest for you?!” She seemed like she was ready for another yelling match.
“What’s bugging your ass now?!” I did my best to refrain from yelling. The girl is driving me crazy.
“Are you going to start talking rough and nasty to me now, Santos?”
“Why are you acting like we did something wrong?” I asked in a state of confusion.
“I’m not acting like something’s wrong. You’re just acting like... ‘Now that you Got me’, you have another victory under your belt!”
“Don’t start talking smack. Besides, what about your married old man..?”
“That’s it! He’s not an old man and it’s none of your business who I fuck!” Now the situation is getting out of control again. I came right back...
“Oh yeah..? Who else are you fucking? She raised her hand and started to take a swing at me. Crap, here we go again.
“Damn you!” She says as more tears come down her cheeks. Michele tries another slap to my face. I grabbed her into a bear hug.
“I said stop it! Don’t cry... I’m sorry... I’m sorry.” I held her arms against her body so I wouldn’t be in the line of fire. “I love you! I love you!” I said as she calmed down. She froze for a minute and settled down. It was quite for a long few seconds.
“I love you too and I don’t know what to do.” She lays her head on my chest.
I didn’t realize the affair that she was having with her married friend was having such an effect on her. Randall De LaParra gave me the impression that he could buy anything and anyone. The fact is... I really don’t know the man. I believe Michele really doesn’t know the man either.
“Michele, I’m going to be in late tomorrow because I have some business to take care of. But I want to talk to you sometime tomorrow afternoon.”
“About what?” she asked in a calmer attitude.
“Just things... I fell into something here and I want to tell you things I think you should know.” “You’re not going to tell me that you work for the CIA? I saw that movie.” I looked at her with a smile and we stared at one another for another moment. I think we are more comfortable with each other. I decided to tell her about my bookie business.

I felt I could trust her and we have been friends for a while. She has been good for the sports bar and business has been good. I went to get us a glass of wine. I started to tell her about my business with the horses and booking bets. I told her how I started and where I’m heading. She seemed to be focused on what I was telling her, and yet I wasn’t sure she comprehended on what I was saying. We talked all night into sunrise. Finally I finished and she was still around. She didn’t get upset and actually seemed intrigue and a little excited about what I was doing. We ended the conversation and it was going to take time to digest. We both decided that we were too tired to think straight and went home.

Chapter 6
A whole new businessman

I was so tired, that when I got back to my apartment, I crashed on the sofa and slept through the day. When I woke up, I realized that I over slept, and didn’t open up the sports bar. I called the bar, and Robin, the assistant manager and bartender, answered the phone. She said that Michele came in and opened up, then left and went back home.
“Yeah Frankie, Michele said that she would be back around four o’clock. She’ll work late today.” “Oh thanks Robin. You have everything under control?”
“Of course… By the way, you had a few strange phone calls this morning and the dude sounded kind of irate. Then he came into the bar looking for you, and I told him I wasn’t sure when you would be in.”
“Did he leave a name?” I had a hunch I knew who it was.
“Yeah, but I’m not sure of it. It sounded like crackers.”
“Was it a big guy with some paint on his pants?”
“That’s him all right. He had a bug up his ass about getting a hold of you. I told him you would be in later today.”
“Okay… Thanks Robin, and I probably won’t be in ‘til late evening.”
I hung up the phone and wondered why McCracken was anxious to come in and see me. Sure I was late to take him the money early in the morning. There’s something going on. I tried to call his office and all I got was his answering machine.
“Hey Mac, sorry I’m late and I’ll bring the cash around 5 o’clock. Talk to you later.” I kept the message short. I was still tired from an unusually great night and I decided to give Michele a call. “Hello... Hello.” Michele sounded still asleep. “Hey Michele, this is Frankie. Are you still sleeping?”
“Yeeesss... I’m going into the bar in a while,” she says with a yawn.
“Okay, I’ll see you tonight. I have to go see McCracken.”
And I’m with you.”
Wow… She said the right thing and that made me feel great. We hung up and I had to get my day started. I called Leo and Mondo to make the rounds and pick up the cash that my regular pony players lost. They would also pay off the small time winners. I took care of anything over $500 bucks.

I ran over to the Centennial Casino poker club near Montebello to withdraw some cash. I keep a bank role there because no one has a record of it like the IRS. It’s called the ‘Players Bank’. It’s a convenient way for the gamblers in the casino to have quick access to their money 24 hours. It’s a smart business courtesy of the house. Occasionally, I would get involved in a poker game whether it is ‘Low Ball’ or ‘Stud’. Low Ball is the most popular now. I always had dreams of getting into the championship poker tournament at Binion’s Horseshoe Casino in Las Vegas. But I ran into too many cheats and card sharks in legal poker houses. I played from central California to the southern tip. I found out there were too many partners everywhere I went.

Since I was ten years old, I watched my dad and uncles play poker at just about every family event. They played an honest game with each other. As the years rolled on, I studied and learned all the wild games of poker. I played it throughout my Navy hitch during the Vietnam War. I made a killing with the chumps. I always sent a few bucks home to my wife and baby. When I got out of the service, I continued to play in small underground backroom bars where poker was popular. Then I decided to take on the big boys at the poker houses from Gardena, to Fresno in central California. Oh I won some nice games in the smaller limits. But I learned the hard way in the big games and got whacked financially. This didn’t exactly help the marriage situation, especially with a child. I even found out from a poker friend that some of the boys like to carry a Saturday night special. I wasn’t into carrying a gun, but if I had, I believe I would be in prison for plugging a few poker cheats.
Yeah, I saw a few winners leave the table with a lot of chips. Some knew when to quit. Unfortunately some were followed out to the parking lot and mugged. Everyone will hear about it because of the news on television or someone at your poker table knew the victim. I decided I didn’t need the aggravation. That’s when I decided to join my uncle on booking bets on the ponies. The one thing I learned is that poker was a way of life. But the card player will say it’s ‘Just Recreation’. And that’s what the concept of legalized poker houses is; a ‘Game of Recreation.’ The house pretty much doesn’t care if you win or lose. They make their money on the rent of the poker table. Depending on the limit of your game, the house will charge you in most cases, by the half hour. And, when some houses have between 30 to 100 tables or more, and an average of eight players are at the tables for 24 hours, that’s a lot of money for the recreation center of poker.
I had to pull out about two grand from the player’s bank because I am starting to hurt financially now, and thank god I had more in my little vault at home. I had to get over to McCracken’s office and give him his money. I met up with Leo and Mondo to make sure they didn’t have any problems collecting from losers. They collected another $1,700 net.
I needed to pick up the rest of the cash at my place. I brought the boys with me since I was carrying a lot of money. We got to my place and I told Leo and Mondo to wait outside. Sometimes you feel you’re being followed, whether you are or not, and how everybody looks suspicious in this situation.

I have a small safe hidden inside the drywall in my garage behind the washing machine and dryer. I actually got photos of ‘hot pin-up babes’ on the walls of my garage where it catches the attention of anyone who walks in. It either makes for conversation, or they go into a fantasy day dream. I pulled out the washer a little and then pulled out the camouflage piece of drywall. I started working the combination, and after a few turns, open my little bank. I usually keep between $35 to $50 thousand dollars in it. But I’ve been getting hit hard lately by the horse betters, and I don’t have much left; maybe around $18 grand. Nobody would even think I had that kind of money around with the simple looking apartment where I live. It’s a one bedroom place and I’m a couple of blocks from the beach. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s clean and quite.
I took out the amount that I needed to pay off McCracken. I put all the cash into a cheap looking brief case. It was getting late and I haven’t heard from him yet. I went into my living room to give McCracken one more call. I still got the answering machine.
“Hey McCracken, for a man that wants his money ASAP, you haven’t been in your office lately. I’m on my way over. It’s about 7 p.m. Sorry for the delay but I had to do some running around. But I got the chocolate chip cookies for you. I’m on my way.”

Mac knows about the meaning of chocolate chip. It’s a common name in Vegas that it’s primarily a $5,000 chip because of its primary color, brown. I went to get Leo and Mondo and we got into my Porsche and headed to McCracken’s office in Huntington Beach. I was sure doing a lot of running around just to please this guy. I guess it’s the best way to keep a sucker on the hook. I’ll get it back soon enough.

Chapter 7
Who’s the big boss?

We arrived about 7:43 p.m. and Mac’s office looked pretty dark on the inside. There seemed to be a small lamp on in the corner of the building.
“Leo, you and Mondo wait here. I’ll take a look inside and see if McCracken’s in there. Give me a few minutes, and then I’ll signal you that everything’s okay.”
“Sure Frankie, but you sure you don’t want one of us to come a long?”
“No… I’ll be alright.”

I walked up slowly to the construction office carrying the brief case of money I owed Mac. I’m thinking he might have left, but Mac was anxious for me to bring him the money. I knocked on the door which was partially opened. There was a big foot print in the middle of the door which looked as if it was kicked in. I walked in and the secretary’s desk lamp was still on. Not enough to brighten up the office.
“Anybody here?” I blurted out in a normal tone. I couldn’t see the main switch for the office lights. I walked deeper into another part of the office, and I thought I heard something.
“Hello… Anybody around..?” I found a light switch and slowly flipped it on. It only lit a small part of the room. All of a sudden I heard a small groan coming from the corner.
“Hello… Mac…?” I said in a raised whisper. I looked over and saw Bruno lying in the corner with blood all over his chest. He was barely alive. I rushed over to him.
“Bruno! What happened?! Where’s Mac?!” He could barely speak.
“Frankie… They were beating him. I couldn’t stop them…and they shot me.”
“Who shot you and where’s Mac?!”
“Not sure, he’s here somewhere. See if he’s dead.” Bruno was trying his best to talk.
“I’ll call 911 Bruno and I’ll look for Mac.”
“No! Frankie, you can’t call the cops. There’s a package under the floor board in back of the fax machine. Get it to his brother, Neil.” Bruno was using his every ounce of strength to talk as he coughed up more blood.
“I don’t know his brother. Let me look around for Mac!” I started searching for him. I went into all of his four office rooms, and no sign. For whatever reason, I opened the door to the bathroom and turned on the light. There he was with a thick twine wrapped around his neck and tied to his hands behind his back. His face looked like a piece of raw meat. What did I get myself into? I ran back into the other part of the office were Bruno was lying on the floor.
“Bruno, Mac is dead! What the hell is going on here?”
“Frankie, get the package under the floor board and get it to his brother. Address is in the black book on his desk. Get it.”
“What’s in the package, Bruno?”
“If his brother doesn’t deliver it to the right people, the rest of Mac’s family will be hit.” “Bruno! What the hell is this all about?”
“Go now Frankie and get the package... It’s in back of the fax machine, under the carpet,” he says with a raspy voice with weakness in his tone.

Still sitting in the car, Leo and Mondo were getting curious since they haven’t got the okay signal from Frankie. “Leo, what do you think? Should we check on Frankie?”
“Let’s wait another minute, Mondo... You pack your piece man?” Mondo started getting a little nervous. Coming from a rough neighborhood in East L.A., they can usually sense things. They pulled out their guns and checked the chamber to make sure it was fully loaded. Frankie wasn’t into guns and never carried one. He could take care of himself if it came to throwing punches. But Leo and Mondo came from more of a violent background. Although they’re not into the gang thing anymore, they’re still careful.

I went over to the fax machine on the Oakwood desk. I pulled it out, and saw there was little carpet swatches, somewhat camouflaged. I lifted it up and there was a loose piece of tile from the floor. I pulled it up…and there it was; five large plastic bags of powder, and I’m not sure of what, but I could take a guess. I took the bags out from the hole in the facade floor corner, and put them on the desk. I ran over to Bruno who is barely still alive.
“Bruno, I got the bags…What is it?”
“Frankie, take the bags to Mac’s brother. Neil will take care of you. Get the black book on the desk. Call him first and tell him what happened. He’ll know what to do. But he’s got to have it now or his family will be wiped out. Go!”
I wasn’t sure what I was getting into, but drugs ain’t my thing. I ran over to the desk and found the companies black address book. I looked up Neil McCracken’s phone number. I dialed…and once again, I get the answering machine. I wrote down his phone number and address on a note pad so I could call him again, or just go straight to his place.
“Hello Neil, this is Frank Santos, a friend of Mac’s. Please call me on my mobile phone. Your brother’s dead and I’m suppose to give you some packages. My number is 726-7746 or dial ‘Scorpio’, same area code— Hurry!” I looked over towards Bruno. “No one answers! What should I do? Bruno?” Damn... I think he either passed out or he’s dead. I checked for a pulse on his wrist and neck. He still had one, but very weak. Now what do I do? I went over to the bags of powder. I didn’t want to get caught carrying these things around, so I put them back into the hidden part under the floor board. I laid the piece of tile and carpet over it, and then pushed the desk back. I went over to the phone and tried to call Mac’s brother again... Still no answer and the damn answering machine came on. I decided to call Michele to tell her I was going to be late. I dialed as fast as I could.
“Hello, Michele? Frankie… I’m over here at McCracken’s construction and___” Three large shadows were standing at the door way staring at me. One voice came out soft, but deep.
“Calling a friend..? Put the phone down.” I stared for a moment… Again with a threatening low voice… “I asked you to put the phone down,” commands the man in an expensive pinstripe suit. I put the phone down very gently. “Okay, who are you?” He gives that over confident eye piercing look to me.
“Just a customer of McCracken’s,” I said nervously, but I kept calm.
“You know Mr. McCracken and Bruno?” he asked as he nods his head slowly toward Bruno’s body on the floor.
“I found them this way. Mac and Bruno are dead.”
“How do you know they’re dead?” I guess this master of manners kind of a guy is the speaker of the group.
“I walked in here and found them this way with blood all over the place,” I said.
“Why are you here?” I thought this guy was getting a little boring.
“I just came over to see Mac about working on my house. He’s putting in a family room.” I hoped this Princeton drop out was buying my story.
“Check him!” Two thugs came over and started getting rough with me and thoroughly searching me all over my body. Luckily I keep my wallet in my car.
“Hey! What is this?!” I blurted with a little anger in my tone. They continued the search without a blink. Finally—
“He’s clean sir.” Wow, henchmen with strict manners, I thought.
“I’ll ask you once again, why are you here Mr. —?”
“Ferrato.., Robert.” Like I’d give him my real name. What a dick head.
“Mr. Ferrato…Well Mr. Ferrato, Why are you here?”
“I just came to deliver some papers to Mac so he could work on my house.”
“Are those papers in that briefcase next to you by the phone?” I looked over and there was my briefcase with $ 5,800 in it, and I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Uh no, I don’t know anything about that case. I had the papers in an envelope I put somewhere around here.”
“Well then, perhaps that case was for me to pick up. Bart, bring me the case.”
“Yes sir.”
I’m staring at this big brut, Bart, taking my money over to Mr. big sir. I looked at the black business phone book lying on the desk. The boss takes the bag and opens it up. He stares at it for a moment and then looks back at me. I just stared back.
“Well, it’s not what I was expecting, but it’s a start Mr. Ferrato.” Things seemed to get a little tenser. This time I thought I’d get his name…
“What were you expecting, Mr. uh? I’m sorry; I didn’t get your name.” The boss nods to Bart. Bart walks over to me and gives me a punch in the gut. I drop to the floor in pain. “What the fuck ya doing..?”
“Where’s the rest of the money and the items we came for, Mr. Ferrato?” he shouts.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I was trying to get my breath. Bart picks me up and gives me another fucking shot in the gut. I’m lying on the floor in great pain. “I told you! I don’t know anything about any money!” Mondo and Leo were looking inside through the crack of the door that was left partially open.
“Mondo...” Leo whispers to him and gives him a signal to enter very quietly. They both have their pistols cocked.
“I’m beginning to lose my patients Bobby!” says the mystery man with another threat in his voice. “There are two things I want now— the rest of the money, and the packages that Mr. McCracken was to deliver.”
“I don’t know anything about any money, damn it!”
“Then you must know about the packages? I looked up at him and his thugs. He gave Bart another signal to smack me again. Bart came over to me and raised his fist, and this time with a brass knuckler. I hadn’t seen those in years.
“OKAY!” I know where the packages are. But that’s all I know! I don’t know anything about any money.”
“I’m waiting.” The boss man speaks with again, a calm tone in his voice.
“It’s over there in back of the oak desk under a loose piece of carpet.”
The boss motions the two henchmen to go over and look for the packages. They pull out the desk and notice the loose carpet and find the powdered packages.
“Here it is sir.” Bart brings over the package and hands it to his boss. He opens it and checks to see if it’s the real thing.
“Put it in the black bag with the money. Very good Mr. Ferrato— now the $350,000.00 would make the evening complete.”
“I don’t know anything about any money I told you! — and that’s the truth!” The boss man picks up the phone and makes a call...
“Yes sir, I have the packages. However I do not have the money. He says he came by to drop off some papers to Mr. McCracken, but I don’t see anything. He says his name is Mr. Ferrato... Not quite sure… Yes they are, just as we left them. I thoroughly agree. Yes sir… I will be here waiting for you.” He hangs up the phone and stares at me for a moment.
“Well if you really don’t know about the money then, I guess I’ll have to look around myself. I won’t need you anymore, sir. Bart, show Mr. Robert Ferrato to the house of Jesus.” Bart pulls out a semi-automatic 9 mm Luger German pistol, and aims it at my head. I stared right into that mother fucker’s barrel. In one second, I figure I have nothing to lose. My heart rate was racing. I decided that this bastard is going to meet my maker with me. I started to make my move and like an instant flash…There’s a loud pistol shot. It came from the floor by the secretary’s desk. Bruno got off a shot as he lies in his own pool of blood. The bullet hits Bart in the leg. The other thug shoots Bruno with four rounds as Bart shoots wildly into the air. Leo and Mondo bust in through the doorway and begin to fire their pistols at Bart, his side kick, and the boss man. Bullets are ricocheting in every direction as I try to dodge the flying lead. Mondo is hit in the chest with a piercing bullet from the boss’ pistol…and drops to the floor. Leo turns and empties his chamber into the boss man and Bart. Without a second thought, I grabbed my briefcase with the dope and my money, and then yelled at Leo to get out of here. He is leaning over Mondo in shock. I grabbed his arm.

“Leo, get him and let’s go!!! Leo! Help me pick him up. Let’s go man!” Leo was in a trance for a moment seeing Mondo lie there barely breathing. He and Mondo have been like brothers since kids. Again I yelled, “Now! Leo, they’re coming!”
“Frankie… I think Mondo’s dead.”
“No Leo, grab him! He’s bleeding, but he’s still alive. Now let’s go!”

I remembered the black address book and looked for it somewhere on the desk by the phone. I thought that I might find some more names that I knew. I had a problem looking for it in all the rubble. The McCracken construction office looked as though a cyclone hit. There were five dead bodies in there. Either the cops or more of the mob was going to arrive any minute. My bet was that the wise guys would be here first.

Click here for Chapter 8


To be Continued