AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Vincent and Paulie. We meet again,” she said in a sick voice. “You boys should have learned to play nice.”
Brenda sat in her ruined living room and pondered her next move as she waited for the cops to arrive. When word of this gets out, it's going to be gas on the fire. I won't have much time to play my hand. I have to act fast and somehow stay alive
***
Mack studied the bullet-riddled living room as Jessica, a fifty year old gray woman who had maybe spoken two words in her life, roamed around snapping a few photos that would end up in some dusty basement.
“Sorry about your place,” Mack blurted out.
“Yeah, me too,” Brenda replied, leaning against the front door with her arms folded. Jake and Ridge, two middle aged cops who didn't mind remaining on the bottom of the ladder, stood out in the hallway gabbing back and forth about a hockey game instead of the two dead bodies that had been hauled away. They were seasoned cops and had seen pretty much everything New York had to offer. Nothing shocked them.
“My landlord gave me two weeks to find a new place,” said Brenda. “Seems like the slime bag doesn't like his building being shot up.”
“Check the obituaries. That's what I do. When a person dies, an apartment becomes vacant.” Mack reached into the pocket of his trench coat and took out his cell phone.
Brenda shrugged.
“Curanto won't be happy that you knocked off two of his best guys.”
“Forget that,” Brenda demanded. “How is it on the streets, Mack? Anybody pointing a finger at Curanto for the murder?”
“Not yet. And I wouldn't count on anyone loosening their lips, either. The gangs in this area know who Joey Curanto is. No one is going to risk eating a bullet over a dead teenager.”
“Did Alonzo have anyone else?”
He ran his hand across the back wall of the living room and examined a set of bullet holes. “A girlfriend named Amy. The girl was home when Alonzo was found.”
“Parents confirm this?”
“Mother,” Mack responded. “The mother works nights in Manhattan. Swears that her daughter was home all morning.”
“Does this woman ever sleep?” Brenda asked in a tone that Mack understood.
“Amy doesn't have a dad in the house. Mother didn't seem too… grand.” Mack removed his hand from the bullet-torn wall. “She could have been anywhere this morning, but I have to accept her statement.”
Brenda watched Jessica snap a few more photos and then start to pack up.
“Finished, Mack,” she said in a dead fish tone. “I'll email you the photos when I get them downloaded.”
“Sure. Thanks, Jessica.” Mack waited until Jessica walked to the front door before speaking again. “How's your leg?”
“A leg is a leg,” Jessica answered, pulling a heavy brown coat over her thin body before lugging her black bag of equipment out into the hallway.
“Nice woman,” said Brenda after Jessica had left.
“Jessica has had it rough,” Mack told Brenda without offering any further explanation. “Where are you going to stay?”
“Your place.”
“My couch rolls out into a bed. Grab your stuff and let's close up shop here,” Mack nodded his head.
Brenda made her way to a small living room closet, snatched open a wobbly door, and pulled out a green suitcase. “I always keep a bag packed. Let's move.”
Mack stared at Brenda and, just for a brief second, felt his heart break for the woman. Brenda was too hard on the inside to ever settle down and call a place home. She was always ready to fight. And run.
Mack walked out into the hallway. “Close shop, guys,” he ordered in a gruff voice.
“Sure thing, Mack,” Jake agreed and continued grumbling with Ridge without missing a beat. Ridge flicked a quick, sympathetic eye at Brenda before focusing back on Jake. But that one quick glance told Brenda all she needed to know: She was marked for death.
