“Oh man!” He grabbed Tony’s drink and downed it in one swallow. Tony looked up and nodded for Jake to pour another one. “Whatcha want, man? Just get to it without the games.”
Tony leaned closer. “I need info. And I need someone to spread some info around.”
“I don’t know nothing.”
“You owe me. Don’t forget that.” He reached into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out a wad of fifties. “And I pay. Twice this much if you do it right.”
Billy stared at the money, his eyes bugging like a strangled mouse. “Okay.” He nodded, reminding Tony of a chicken. “Okay. Whatcha need to know?”
“I need to know who Craig Bartlett owes.”
“What makes you think I know?”
“Billy, you know everything. Your slimy little ears are pressed to the ground more than anyone else’s.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve lost your touch.”
Billy stared at the bills and licked his lips. “Okay. Okay. Word is he owes Junior Mills.”
“Who’s Junior Mills?”
“God man, you’ve been gone too long.” He took the fresh drink and swallowed it all. “Old man Jacob Mills bit the dust years ago. Apparently, some of the local bulls gave him a free stick therapy session and he saw the light long enough to recall the names of some southern gentlemen. After that, I hear his shoes got heavy and pulled him to the bottom of Boston harbor.”
Tony felt a pang of the past. He had once worked for Jacob Mills, stole a few cars for him. Who could have foreseen that Jacob’s untimely end would come at the hands of some South American drug lord?
Billy was still squealing. “Junior took over, and he’s meaner than his daddy could ever have hoped to be. Can’t stand a cop. Just as soon plug one as pay him off. Word is Bartlett skimmed the top of a deal and Junior blew him a kiss.”
Tony shrugged. “Everybody skims. Cost of doing business.”
Billy looked like he had no idea what to do with his hands. “I guess it depends on who ends up with the twenty and who ends up with the eighty.”
“Eighty percent of the take? Jacob would have used the guy to fertilize his lawn.”
“Yeah,” Billy agreed sagely. “But Junior isn’t as nice as his old man was.”
Tony held up a finger signaling that Jake was to pour one more drink. Billy started feeling the confidence that only came with two straight shots spaced out over seconds. He sneered at Tony and nodded his head. “Looks like you have your ear in places, too.”
“Nah. This is personal.” He pushed the stack of money Billy’s way and pulled an identical one out of his pocket. “You spread my message the way I tell you, and I’ll see that you get this one, too.”
The money in front of Billy disappeared faster than snow in Miami. “Hey, sure. Anything for you, old buddy.”
“You tell anyone who will listen that Bartlett is talking big about skimming from Junior. You add that he said no one could have ever skimmed the old man. You got that?”
Billy snorted and laughed. “You want Bartlett killed or something?”
Tony stared at the little drunk. “Or something.”
“Oh, Jeez.” Billy breathed.
“Then you say how Bartlett knows that Junior has it out for him and he’s thinking about going to the cops with it before the deadline.” He looked up and nodded at Jake then leaned even closer to Billy. “You got it, Billy? Then you let Bartlett know he can find me at Hank’s place, out by the college.”
“Sure. When do I get the rest of my money?”
Tony straightened, pushed the fresh drink toward Billy, and tossed a bill for the tab toward Jake. “When I know the message has been sent.”
Billy didn’t drink the whole thing this time. He took a small sip and smiled up at Tony. “Hey man, sorry about whole thing from all those years ago. I’m glad it’s forgotten.”
“The only way we’re square, Billy, is if you do what I asked you. Otherwise, I may start holding you in the same high regard I have for my good friend Bartlett.” He pushed away from the bar.
“Sure, Tony, sure. I’ll spread the word.”
“Ciao.” He slipped his glasses back on as he pushed his way outside.
IS car was still there, and the kid with the mean eyes leaned against the hood. Two of his friends lay sprawled, unconscious, in uncomfortable looking positions on the street and sidewalk. He didn’t see the other two. Tony looked the lad up and down, seeing a reflection of himself fifteen years earlier.
“Your friends look tired,” Tony observed.
“They aren’t my friends,” the youth answered dryly.
Tony smiled, “What’s your name?”
“Derrick. Derrick DiNunzio” He gestured at the unconscious pair. “I don’t think these guys trusted you.”
Tony looked around, up at the buildings, down the street. Something about this kid tugged at his heart. He tried to ignore it, but something deep inside wouldn’t let him. “Do you have any friends around here, Derrick? Any family? Do you like living here?”
Derrick shrugged and stuffed his hands into the pockets of the old black leather jacket he wore. It had a hole in the right elbow. “Don’t have a choice for now. But I ain’t staying for long. I’m getting out.” He looked at the car and back at Tony. “Just like you did. I’ll go straight and narrow like you and make my break.”
Tony liked the desire to go straight and narrow. He raised an eyebrow at the recognition. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen.” Tony just stared. Derrick raised his chin defiantly. “Almost.”
Tony pulled a business card out of his pocket. He scribbled a note on the back of it and set it atop the folded bills. “Come see me when it’s a little more than almost. I may have something for you.”
“You suddenly have a CIO position open up?”
Tony stopped short and barked a quick laugh.
“What would you want me doing for you, Mr. Tony Viscolli? Clean your toilets? Polish your silverware?”
Tony opened the car door and smiled. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”
He drove quickly, the desire to leave the stench of the past behind him helped him press the accelerator harder. He needed to get to church. He just wished he could shower beforehand.
Right before he turned the corner, he looked in his rearview mirror and saw Derrick still standing where he’d left him, the business card in one hand and the money in the other. The kid was staring at the card. Tony grinned, turned the heater up higher, and flipped the radio on, finding a good, loud jazz station.
ONY sat in Barry’s weight room while his friend huffed his way through his last set of bench pressing one-hundred-twenty-pound weights. He had cancelled his Monday morning appointments and had come straight to Barry’s house.
Barry had a weight room built into his house that rivaled any gymnasium around. Glass walls reflected state-of-the-art equipment. A large screen television hung on the wall in front of the treadmill, stationary bike, and rowing machine. At the moment, Mozart’s Requiem pumped through the speakers, surrounding the room with the classical sounds.
Barry sat up and wiped his face with a towel. He looked at his friend closely. “What’s wrong?”
Tony inspected his fingernails. “Why would you assume something is wrong?”
Barry laughed and tossed his towel around his neck. “You’re wearing jeans and it’s Monday. I’m trying to remember if I’ve ever personally seen you in jeans. Maybe, one time, when – no, wait, you wore Dockers.”
Tony had a hard time seeing the humor. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing other than the fact that you always look like you’re about to go for a cover shoot of GQ, no matter what, and you’re sitting here on one of your busiest work days wearing blue jeans and you don’t look like you’ve shaved. So, I’m assuming that something is wrong.”
Tony pushed himself off of the weight bench and paced the room. The problem with this room, he decided, was that
there was no escaping his reflection. Everywhere he looked, he could see himself. Of course, everywhere he saw himself, he saw a man filthy with sin.
He stopped in front of a wall and stared. His bloodshot eyes dimly glared back at him. The weight on his heart made it hard to stand up straight. He could not run from the conviction for another moment. “I’ve done something that cannot be undone.”
Intrigued, Barry drained a bottle of water and tossed the empty plastic bottle into a trash can that stood next to the door to the rest room. “Nothing is undoable. Unless, of course, you murdered someone.”
He said the last thing as a joke, but his friend’s shoulders slumped forward slightly and he sighed heavily. Barry froze. No way. “Tony?”
Tony turned, moving like an old man. “I haven’t murdered anyone yet, but I certainly signed his death warrant.”
Barry cocked his head, trying to find another angle to look at his friend. His best friend. “I think you need to be a little more specific.”
With his hands covering his face, Tony leaned against the mirrored wall and slid down until he sat on his heels. He rubbed his eyes, tired from two nights of no sleep, and finally lowered his hands. Barry sat next to him, waiting. Tony took a deep breath, and plunged forward, telling Barry about Robin’s story and his own trip to the old neighborhood.
Barry sat quiet long after Tony finished speaking. He didn’t look at him. Instead, he looked forward, staring at Tony’s reflection in the opposite wall. Finally, he said, “Why did you do that?”
Tony wanted to shrug. He wanted to get angry and storm away from the judgement that he so rightfully felt directed his way. He wanted to do a lot of things. Instead, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Because I was angry.”
Barry nodded. “There are a lot of things I need to say to you right now. But, I think you know most of them. I think you know that this relationship you had with Robin wasn’t good for you in a lot of ways. I am very happy she’s accepted Christ now and can start growing in the Lord, but until she did that, there wasn’t anything good about being with her. I think that because you determined to be the one responsible for her eternal destiny, that you almost created an idol of your feelings for her. And because of that, it opened a place in your heart where the enemy could worm his way in and break you.”
Tony felt every single word as if Barry stabbed his heart with an ice pick at every syllable. He spoke the truth, and Tony knew it. Barry continued. “You are a powerful force in God’s kingdom, Tony. You have money, influence, prestige, and you pour it back to God without hesitation. You know as well as I know that you are a constant target, and for some reason when this woman came into your life, you seemed to forget that.”
Tony rolled his head until he looked at Barry directly. Barry’s mouth thinned in a disapproving line, then relaxed again. His next words surprised Tony. “The awesome thing about God is that He is a forgiving God. And, if you repent, your slate will once again be wiped clean.”
Emotions clutched Tony’s throat and he felt his eyes burn. He shoved the heels of his hands against his eyes. “That doesn’t change this.”
“No. It doesn’t change this.”
They sat in silence for a long time. Tony’s emotions slowly overwhelmed him until he rocked forward and landed on his knees, then continued forward until he was bowed in humbled posture before God. He didn’t realize he’d begun praying out loud until he felt Barry next to him praying along with him. He prayed for forgiveness first and foremost. Then he prayed for help. He begged God to help him figure out what to do next, how to fix it, how to set it right.
After a long time he simply fell silent in meditation and Barry left him alone so that he would have no distractions from hearing God’s voice.
CHAPTER 17
OBIN stood in her office and stared at a framed picture of her and her sisters. She didn’t put it there, so one of them must have. A friend of Maxine’s had snapped a picture of them at Maxi’s college graduation party. Robin tilted her head and tried to look at it from maybe another angle, but it still looked the same. They looked like three perfectly normal women. They didn’t look like the offspring of a murderer, a drug dealer, a prostitute. They just looked normal.
She turned back to face the room and saw Barry look at his watch. Tony sat in her chair behind her desk, where she had insisted that he sit, spinning his gold pen on her blotter. They had spent the last thirty minutes praying together – praying for help, wisdom, strength, courage. Since ending the prayer, though, no one had spoken. The silence in the room hovered heavy and thick, and she really couldn’t stand it much longer.
“So, you’re going to the Alps for Christmas?” she asked of Barry.
His head shot up and for a moment his eyes did not focus on her. When they did, he smiled slightly. “My wife enjoys travel. I guess the Alps are this year’s hot spot for Christmas.”
He said it with a twist to his lips. Years of public service had taught her well how to read people, and she thought better of pursuing the conversation. “Tony invited me and my sisters to the Keys with him this year, but we can’t go.”
“Yes you can,” Tony said.
She looked at him and shook her head. “No. Remember? I told you that Sarah can’t go.”
He waved a hand. “She’s going to come and then leave on Christmas Eve. It’s already taken care of.”
Robin ran her tongue over her upper lip. “That’s an awful lot of flying for your pilot.”
“He’s a pilot. That’s what he does. He’s complained I haven’t flown him as much as usual this year.” His eyes warmed. “I’ve been sticking too close to Bean town.” Robin flushed knowing that she was the reason he adjusted his schedule so much. Tony laughed. “Besides, he was already flying back because his family is here, so she’s just catching a ride with him. We’ll stay until the day after Christmas like we planned.”
Barry surged to his feet. “How can you two just chit chat idly by when …?”
A knock at the door interrupted him. At Robin’s beckoning, the hostess popped her head in. “There’s someone out here asking for you, Robin.”
Robin put her hand to her stomach and took a deep breath. “I’ll be right out.”
Barry moved with purpose to the door, closing the distance in two strides. “Let’s get this over with.” He held the door for Robin, then followed her out. Tony stayed. He murmured once they were in the hallway leading to the dining area. “You just look at me if you need help,” he said, pausing by the huge Christmas tree that stood in the corner next to a grand piano.
Robin pressed her lips in a thin line and nodded stiffly. The hostess had seated Sandy – Craig – where she’d asked her to, and she had a clear view of him. He hadn’t seen her yet. She watched as he drained his glass of ice water and looked behind him, then fidgeted with the glass and looked behind him again, then looked at his watch.
“You’d better get over there,” Barry said.
“I hope this works,” she said, and started walking. Until the moment Sandy saw her, she thought she might run away, but the second his watery blue eyes met hers, she relaxed. She felt God place a mantle of peace over her shoulders as if it had been a physical thing.
She pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. “Hi, Craig.”
His knee started jerking up and down and his thumb tapped a rhythm on the tablecloth. “Remember when we used to play games? Like I give you the name of a drink and you give me what it’s made out of?”
“Sure. Of course I remember.”
“Good. I got one for you.”
Confused, Robin tipped her head. “Okay.”
“Dead Man Walking.”
She gave a short shake of her head. “I’m afraid I don’t know that one. I guess you finally stumped me”
“Dead Man Walking. That’s me. The heat on the street is turned up. I need my ten large now.”
Standing, Robin nodded. “Come on back to my office, Craig.”
All of his nervous, jerky movement stopped. Suddenly. For a moment he sat completely still, then he smiled, showing a mouth full of yellow teeth. “You got it? That’s my girl!”
As she led the way to her office, he babbled on behind her. “I wasn’t sure you’d go for it, you know? You weren’t exactly receptive to my offer the other day. But I knew you’d come through for your old man. I knew it!”
She opened the door and stepped aside, allowing him to precede her into the room. He stopped short the second that he saw Tony sitting at Robin’s desk. “Hey now,” he said. He turned to leave the room but found his exit blocked by Barry. “What’s this?”
Tony stood and gestured to the chairs in front of the desk. “Mr. Bartlett, please sit down.”
He balled his fists and his face turned bright red. “I ain’t …”
Tony reached into the open desk drawer and pulled out a stack of money. Ten thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills. Craig stopped, licked his lips, and sat in a chair.
Tony leaned back and the chair squeaked with his weight. “You obviously know that I’ve been seeing your daughter.”
“Yeah. I been keepin’ an eye on her. I know what’s what.”
“And you know who I am.”
“Of course.” Craig licked his lips and looked at the money again.
Tony reached out and laid his fingers on his pen, but kept it still. “I’m going to give you this money, but I’m going to do it on two conditions.”
Craig’s leg started moving up and down again in a fast, jerky rhythm. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever you want.”
“Number one, you never, ever, ask for money again. If you ever do, then Robin or I will go to the police and file a complaint about extortion.”
Robin watched as his leg paused momentarily before beating an even faster beat. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” He stood and reached for the money. Tony held up his hand and Craig slowly sat back down. “Right. Two conditions. Okay. What’s numero two?”
Tony sat forward and laced his hands together. “That you allow me to pray for you right now.”
Craig’s entire body went still before he threw his head back and laughed. “What? What did you say?”