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One Year Earlier
“You'll be happy to know I finally got that bastard Donny Saint," Spencer said to me when I went over to the house to see my mother.
"What?" I said, frowning. "You arrested Hunter's Uncle Donny?"
"Not me personally, but the Feds."
I had no interest in speaking with Spencer. I’d thought he would be out of the house when I went over, but there he was in all his glory. He must have known I was coming over for a visit with my mom and wanted to gloat.
"Didn't you listen to the news today?" he asked, following me through the house.
"I've been busy."
"Turn on the TV," he said when I got to the living room. "You'll hear. I'm so glad you cut that boy out of your life back then. His family's trouble, but maybe with Donny Saint in federal custody, they'll be less of a threat."
"Threat to whom?" I asked, not really getting what he was talking about. "Who was he a threat to? He was a boxing promoter and runs a couple of nightclubs. "
"He's a thug. His whole family is a bunch of thugs. I provided some nice juicy tidbits of evidence that will help put him away for, oh, maybe a decade or more."
I switched on the television and turned to a local news channel. I'd been ensconced in my dorm studying for mid-term exams and hadn't been paying much attention to the news, so I had no idea what he was talking about.
There were a couple of talking heads and a picture of the gym on screen, so I turned up the volume.
"…report of a shooting at a local landmark, Saints Gym and Boxing Emporium, yesterday during an FBI operation to arrest Donald James Saint on a federal RICO warrant."
"What?"
My mouth fell open as I listened to the reporter describe the shooting of Sean, Hunter's older brother, after he had attacked one of the Special Agents there to arrest Donny. He'd been taken to Mass General but was not expected to survive, according to the family's lawyer, who spoke to the reporter outside the hospital.
"The Saint family is well-known for its historic boxing club. They’ve trained dozens of boxing stars over the decades since the gym was founded by Colm Saint in the early part of the twentieth century…"
"Oh my God…" I sat down hard on the coffee table across from the television and watched open-mouthed.
"Pretty amazing," Spencer said, a smile on his face.
"They shot Sean?"
"Oh, yeah, the brother. He assaulted an FBI Special Agent and was shot three times. He died sometime this morning."
"They killed Sean?" The fact filtered through my shock, making my pulse race. "Sean's dead?"
"Yeah, he kicked it during the night."
"Oh my God," I said, covering my mouth, tears filling my eyes.
I had known Sean Saint for half my life—or at least, I had seen him around the gym when I was growing up. "He was just the janitor. Why did they shoot him?"
"He assaulted a federal agent. The agent felt threatened and was in his rights to shoot him. The agent says he thought Sean was trying to take his weapon.” Spencer shrugged like he didn’t care one way or the other. Like Sean's death was an incidental part of the big event of arresting Donny Saint.
Of course, Spencer would feel that way. All he cared about was getting back at Donny Saint. He had a grudge against Donny over some failed case from years ago. That was the source of all the enmity between our two families all this time.
I hated Spencer.
Hated him.
"I don't know why you're so upset," Spencer said, his voice dismissive. "It's not like you're big friends with them anymore. At least I hope not, if you have any sense."
"Oh, God, poor Hunter…" I said, shaking my head sadly, not caring what Spencer thought. My heart broke for Hunter. I couldn’t imagine how he must have felt. "He'll have to come to Boston for the funeral. Who knows where he is? The last I heard, he was deployed to Iraq."
