One Last Kill Read online

  Cal’s jaw clenched as he listened to his girlfriend’s sobs. The sound of her sadness made him want to leave the mafia on the spot.

  “Maria, I’m sorry. I can’t do that yet. I’d like nothing more than to hold you and tell you it’s all going to be alright. As soon as this is over, I will. I promise.”

  The intensity of her sobs was as loud as a jackhammer thundering into concrete. Maria eventually composed herself and was able to continue the conversation.

  “Let me help make the decision a little bit harder, since you can’t seem to see things from my point of view. I’m going shopping with my friend Reema from school. Lord knows I need a new dress to match the new purse I bought since the one you gave me was paid for with blood money. Then I’ve got a lunch date with another man.”

  Cal felt the tightness in his chest turn to a burning sensation. He hadn’t expected to hear that.

  “A what?”

  “You heard me. I have a lunch date with another man, a man I met when I bought my new purse from Saks, actually. He’s a very powerful man, and he’s achieved a lot in his life. I’m pretty sure he didn’t do that by killing people.”

  Cal scowled. How could Maria afford a purse from Saks? Was that a dig at him for not buying a purse from Saks in the first place? He hoped his annoyance wasn’t audible over the phone.

  “Who is this guy?”

  “That’s not important. He’s a very successful public figure in the city. He means nothing to me right now, Cal, but he’s the kind of man I could easily pull if you don’t leave this life behind.”

  Public figure? If she was talking about that bastard Caruso, he’d be sure to kill him, even in public. He had to find out who it was and where she was headed.

  “Where are you going? The person I’m being asked to handle is a public official. I don’t want you to get caught up in this. Stay home where it’s safe.”

  Maria laughed as if she didn’t believe him.

  “Please, no one will recognize me anyway. I’m doing this cultural experiment where I’m wearing one of Reema’s hijabs to see what it’s like to experience prejudice. I’m not getting all glammed up for this. When you’re ready to stop being a criminal, Callahan, we’ll talk again.”

  The hum of traffic and the honking of taxicabs signaled she was somewhere downtown. He wasn’t sure where, but if she was going shopping, she’d likely be near Michigan Avenue and choose a restaurant or bar not too far from there.

  “Maria, wait.”

  His voice was cut off.

  “Goodbye, Callahan. Make sure you live up to your promise.”

  22

  Vinnie was sitting in his familiar chair in his father’s study, ready for Alfredo to conduct the business of the day. A big grin was plastered on his face.

  Cal had failed. It wasn’t something Vinnie had actively wanted to happen, especially with the Chicago mafia’s future on the line, but it was refreshing that his childhood best friend wasn’t able to get the job done the first time.

  Despite all of Vinnie’s success as a point guard on his high school’s basketball team, Alfredo had cheered loudest when Cal hauled in a touchdown pass as tight end on the high school football team. Vinnie had the friends, the girls, and the grades in high school, and he had done well in college. Yet, it was Cal with his strength and calculated killing ability that seemed to be rewarded the most in his father’s eyes.

  Hearing Cal had failed to kill Caruso when he was firmly within his grasp gave Vinnie an idea. The idea that maybe he could be the one to solve his father’s problems.

  Melissa Ranieri entered the study and closed the door behind her before clasping her hands tightly together.

  “Uncle,” she started, then turned to meet Vinnie’s gaze. “There’s someone here to see you.”

  Vinnie’s father didn’t look up from the stack of papers he was reading.

  “Who is it?”

  Melissa unclasped her hands and smoothed the bottom of her short black skirt. Her swallow was audible even from the back corner of the room where Vinnie sat.

  “It’s Cal’s driver, sir. His name is Tony, Tony Fregosi.”

  Vinnie stood up from his seat and looked at Alfredo and Melissa with both brows raised.

  “What?”

  Vinnie couldn’t believe what he’d heard. Expressing his confusion in a one-word question was unlike him, but he was that surprised by the boy’s request.

  Why was a mere driver asking to speak with him and his father? What made him think he could get a visit with the boss of the Chicago mafia?

  “I know, Vinnie. It’s very unusual. But the boy is sitting out there. He was talking about Cal, how he’s been off lately. He’s worked with Cal for a while now, so I bet he would know his mood even better than we would. He wanted to see you both to talk about Caruso.”

  “Caruso?” Vinnie asked. “Mayor Ross Caruso?”

  “Yes.”

  Vinnie laughed and looked at his father, pacing toward his desk.

  “Isn’t this crazy, Dad? No fucking way we let that kid in here.”

  Alfredo shifted his gaze between Vinnie and Melissa. He let out a deep exhale and tapped his fingers on the desk. Vinnie wondered what was taking his father so long to send the kid packing. He was ready to give Melissa the orders himself.

  “Bring him in.”

  Vinnie couldn’t believe his ears. Some low-level driver was requesting a meeting with his father, and he was choosing to grant the request?

  Melissa left the room before Vinnie could tell her it was a bad idea. Vinnie curled his hands into fists, ready to explode the way his father had so many times before.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Alfredo said, still looking at the wall opposite him. “And you’re right. Just take a seat and let’s see the set of balls this guy has on him.”

  Vinnie reluctantly returned to his chair just as Melissa opened the study door once again and escorted Tony Fregosi inside.

  The kid looked like a nervous wreck. Vinnie wouldn’t be surprised if he was about to shit his pants. Had he been in Tony’s position, Vinnie would’ve felt the same way.

  To put it in his father’s words, Cal’s driver must have had a huge set of balls on him if he dared to request a meeting with Alfredo, especially about Caruso.

  Vinnie watched as Alfredo reached his large hand across the oak desk. Tony strode over and held his hand up to shake it. Vinnie could tell by the way Tony positioned his hand that he was trying to match the firmness of Alfredo’s grip. He must have wanted to make a good impression.

  “You must be Tony Fregosi,” Alfredo said. “Melissa tells me you have something you want tell me about Ross Caruso. Vinnie says you bailed Fonzie out and got him to the doc in the nick of time. I appreciate that.”

  Tony scratched the back of his neck and nodded to acknowledge his contribution. The look on his face was one of uncertainty, as if he knew that the treasure was hidden beneath the dragon but he wanted no part of slaying it.

  “Tony, when my father compliments you, you do more than nod,” Vinnie said. “There’s no need to be scared.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m sorry about that. I won’t do that again. I appreciate the compliment very much, Mr. Petrocelli.”

  Alfredo nodded and poured a glass of brandy from the bottle on his desk. Instead of drinking it himself as Vinnie expected, he pushed the glass to the edge of the desk where Tony was seated.

  “You ever had a real drink, son?”

  “No. I need to stay sober and provide for my family. I don’t drink.”

  Alfredo nodded and took the drink back. Even though Vinnie didn’t care for brandy, he wished his father would’ve offered it to him.

  “I respect that, kid, I really do. I hear you’re doing great work for Cal. I really think he likes working with you.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Alfredo stood and walked around the desk and sat in the empty chair next to Tony. This is where his father would use the power play. He would
show Tony just how small he was by comparison, even after complimenting him. Vinnie would find out how displeased his father was with Tony’s request for the meeting.

  “What do you really want, boy? You obviously know more than you’re letting on. I’m sure you know that this stuff is kept pretty tight-lipped around here. Other than Cal, Fonzie, and the leadership, no one outside this room knows what we’re up to with Caruso. I’m sure you can imagine what would happen if you were to tell anyone else about this.”

  Vinnie rolled his eyes. Why wasn’t his father scorning the boy and putting him in his place for the ridiculous ask? He felt like standing up and piling on his thoughts, but he thought he heard Tony’s stomach quiver, like he needed to run to the toilet. He was nervous enough already.

  “Yes, sir. I won’t tell anyone.”

  Alfredo’s face moved closer to Tony, who moved farther back in his chair in response.

  Vinnie felt bad for the kid. He sensed his father was coming around to his own way of thinking, but he was finally being strategic about it, rather than letting his emotions burst out of control.

  “I don’t want to waste your time, sir, so I’ll come right out and say it,” Tony began. “I don’t know why you want to kill Caruso, but I know time is of the essence. Cal said he needed to complete the hit by tomorrow, is that right?”

  Vinnie glanced at his father. He hoped his old man wouldn’t share too many details with Tony. The last thing they needed was the kid to get picked up by the police and for him to squeal and implicate the both of them.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Alfredo said, shooting his own daggers at Vinnie.

  “I spend a lot of time with Cal. I’ve seen how he’s acted lately. I know he’s your best hit man, but I can’t help but notice that something’s off with him. I wonder if he’s really the man for the job.”

  Vinnie raised his brow in Tony’s direction. Was that the purpose for the meeting? Did an eighteen-year-old punk kid think he could walk in and ask Alfredo for the ultimate killing assignment?

  “I know I don’t have the skills that Cal does and that Caruso’s a tough man to crack, but if I work with Cal now that Fonzie’s laid up, I know I can pull the trigger. I shot one of the mayor’s guys to save Cal. I’m ready to do more for you than drive. I know if I find Caruso that I can kill him.”

  Vinnie was fuming inside. Melissa’s eyes appeared to bug out of her head. Vinnie wished he could see the expression on his father’s face as he stood behind him. Would it be one of anger and fury, per his usual method, or one of amusement?

  The answer to one of the most sensational questions that had ever been asked in the Petrocelli family study hung in the air like dust, waiting to settle on the most prominent piece of furniture it could find.

  “We’ve got to find more guys like this kid, Vin.” Alfredo got up from the chair, looked at Vinnie, and walked behind the desk, taking a powerful swig of his brandy before taking a seat.

  Vinnie’s own eyes grew wide. Alfredo was going for this? What the hell had gotten into his old man? If he was going to allow Tony Fregosi to help Cal take down Caruso, he feared he wouldn’t be the only member of the Petrocelli family having a hit placed on his father.

  “You know what, kid? You remind me of myself at your age, a real go-getter. I like your confidence. What do you think, Vinnie?”

  Vinnie composed his facial expression. He couldn’t let his anger overcome him. He stood and walked closer to Tony, leaning his arm on the chair next to him and setting his face a mere three feet away from Tony’s.

  As much as he hated the kid, he focused his eyes on the boy’s forehead. He breathed deeply through his nose, letting his breath calm his maddening heart rate. When he felt in complete control of his thoughts, he turned to face his father.

  “Are you crazy, Dad? There’s no way we can let this kid kill Caruso. Besides the fact that I’m sure he’s never killed anyone in his life, we can’t leave a hit like this to a kid. What if shit hits the fan like it did yesterday and Caruso’s men come after him? We can’t have the death of a kid on our hands. It would fuck us even more than the police interference right now.”

  Alfredo raised his large hand, stopping Vinnie in his tracks.

  “I get it, this is a risky proposition for us.” Alfredo turned back to Tony. Vinnie felt as if his concern was brushed aside, his opinion as underboss devalued in comparison to that of the complete amateur seated next to him.

  “I want you to know that it’s a risk for you too, kid. Even if you’re successful, do you know what it feels like to kill a man? What that does to your life? You’ll never be able to live the same way.”

  Melissa walked behind the boy, tapped his shoulder, and guided him out of the room. Vinnie was glad his cousin had taken the boy out of the room before he exploded. He couldn’t believe his father was considering this.

  He thought back to the faint idea he’d had before Tony was ushered into the room. It was the only way Vinnie could make this right for the mafia and himself.

  He’d have to convince his father that he’d be the one to kill Ross Caruso.

  23

  Alfredo had a grin plastered on his face as Melissa escorted Tony out of the room. Seeing a kid with ambition was a breath of fresh air. It was a trait that was lacking throughout the rest of the organization.

  Even though he’d warned the kid how his life might change if he decided to help Cal with the hit, Alfredo didn’t give a shit. The more people he had going after Caruso, the better. Hell, he’d go after him himself if the mafia wasn’t under tight police scrutiny.

  Melissa reentered the study and slammed the door, causing the photos on top of the fireplace to shake. A few books from the shelves on the wall crashed to the floor.

  “What the hell was that about?” Vinnie asked, storming toward Melissa in anger. “You sent this kid in here to ask if he could have the hit on Caruso?”

  “What was I supposed to do? Do you think I had any idea he would come in here asking about that?”

  Alfredo watched as the two cousins fought with each other. He was thrilled with the idea of sending as many men at Caruso as possible. Even though he wanted to keep the hit under wraps and leave Vinnie out of it for his son’s own protection, sending Tony out there to help Cal would do no harm. They could easily cover up his involvement with the mafia if anything happened to him.

  It was all looking like a win in Alfredo’s mind. He poured another glass of brandy, leaned back in his chair, and watched Vinnie and Melissa argue. At some point, they both realized he hadn’t chimed in and looked back at him.

  “You wanna know what I think? I think we let the kid go. You both know we need Caruso dead. With Fonzie out of commission, Cal could use all the help he can get.”

  “No offense, Dad, but that kid didn’t come in here looking like he was going to work with someone. I think he’s hell-bent on earning the hit for himself. You said it yourself, he’s motivated and probably thinks this will help him move up in our world.”

  Alfredo considered Vinnie’s point and poured more brandy down his throat. The liquid burned and settled into a nice warmth at the top of his stomach. He couldn’t remember how many glasses he’d had.

  “If it is the kid that hits Caruso, I’ll make sure he moves on up. Good soldiers are hard to find nowadays, Vinnie. Plus, he’s got the Italian heritage. He could be made someday.”

  “You’re thinking about that already? Who knows if this kid is even cut out for the mob long term?”

  “Be that as it may, Melissa, right now I don’t give a damn. I want you to go back out there and tell the boy that he has my blessing to join Cal in his pursuit and even to pull the trigger if he has to.”

  Melissa sighed and walked out of the room. Vinnie walked toward Alfredo’s desk and took a seat across from his father.

  “We’re really going through with this? Trusting the biggest hit we’ve ever put on someone to a kid? Let me go out there, Dad. I’ll get to Caruso before Cal or Tony
come close.”

  Alfredo growled and slammed his hand down on the desk.

  “I’m not putting my only son’s life at risk for this endeavor. Let Cal and Tony take care of it. We have sacrificial lambs for a reason. Now is when we make use of them.”

  24

  Five minutes after Tony left the house, Vinnie entered his gray 2014 Porsche Coupe and reversed out of the long driveway alongside the house, his foot hitting the gas pedal with such force that his car nearly propelled into the neighbor’s front lawn across the street.

  Vinnie floored it and headed south to the city. Cars filled with people going to and from church and brunch cramped the roads. It seemed like Chicago was the brunch capital of America. Even his mother preferred to take a morning off from cooking to drag the family to brunch after services.

  His distaste for brunch wasn’t the main source of his anger. He was pissed that his father had entrusted an eighteen-year-old kid with the murder of Ross Caruso. He resented his father for being overprotective of him. He never hesitated to put Cal in harm’s way.

  Vinnie slapped the thoughts away after nearly veering into a car in the next lane. He knew his father cared about him and didn’t want to put him in danger, yet Vinnie speculated his father’s concern had more to do with his worry that the Petrocelli family name wouldn’t live on if Vinnie were killed, rather than the sadness he’d experience at the loss of another son.

  Between the lack of interest in his business proposals for future mafia endeavors and not receiving his father’s blessing to throw himself into the ring in the hit on Caruso, Vinnie felt an unmanageable anger. He rarely ranted and raved like his father, but Vinnie’s grip on the steering wheel and the grinding of his teeth indicated his anger was more outwardly expressed than usual.

  Vinnie drove toward North Ashland as he made his way down to the city. He had to switch his vantage point from an underboss to a hit man. What intel had Cal gathered on Caruso since they’d tried to kill him yesterday? Cal had only said he’d ridden with Fonzie to the doc’s house on the West Side and stayed with him all night.