chapter forty one

word count: 679

bud had pulled the prison records,, the fcic's, the local, county, and state reports on both of the inmates he was about to question.. simple street hustlers.. drug addicts,, some recorded violence,, but that was to be expected when every day of your life was spent fighting to survive...

neither of them had been involved in the whole baby thing,, of that he was sure... his only hope is that they had some connection,, or at least some information,, concerning the removal, return, and subsequent disappearance of the buckets in question..

he knew what he had to do.. he had never entered into an interrogation in this fashion,, and swore to god if he got janey out of this alive,, he never would again...

his back was up against the wall. it was time to play both ends against the middle,, and he had to start somewhere... he knew he was playing with fire,, neither alexander, nor martinez had anything to lose... and a person with nothing to lose,, is the most dangerous kind of person there is...

they could both be bought and sold,, by him and anyone else that came along with a sweet enough purse. his gut told him no,, but his heart said yes,, this was about janey,, and that changed everything.

he reread jason alexanders jacket,, there had to be something in there he could use....alexander, jason. dob 9-13-82.. he had spent the last ten years in and out of corrections.. possession, criminal tools, drug abuse,, intent to sale,, petty theft... three of the above arrests had been in conjunction with the same woman,, a jessica longo... known addict, prostitute,, similar rap sheet.. she had been to visit jason the day they killed ruben... no direct tie in,, but alexander had no way of knowing that... it wasn't much,, but it was all he had...


jason didn't like the idea of being pulled in for questioning again. after all in this particular instance he really didn't know anything.. he was picking up trash,, minding his owns business,, and bam!! there it was,, a bucket. a foul smelling bucket. a bucket that just happened to contain the body of a dead infant floating in a sea of rancid grease beside the burnt french fries ... what more could he say??

knowing this did not keep his palms from sweating or his heart from pounding hard in his chest. knowing he was completely innocent of anything that even resembled involvement in this did nothing to set his mind at ease. after all this wouldn't be the first time they had found it convenient to pin some bullshit on him just because he happened to be in the wrong place at the right time...

when jason finally arrived at the interrogation room, kramer had the guard release him from his handcuffs and asked him to wait outside.. he settled into one of the cold metal chairs and looked across the table at jason... there was something in his eyes jason didn't want to see,, a sad, desperate look, that made jason even more uneasy.

"i need you to take me back to the beginning jason... i need to you to tell me everything.. i cannot tell you why i need to know,, but i can tell you that there are already two people dead,, and at least four more lives hanging in the balance..."

"dude, i already told you guys three times everything i know... i mean what is there to know?? it was there,, i was there,, and now i'm here... what else can i say???" jason shuffled his feet and looked everywhere but directly at bud as he spoke..

"and what if i told you one of the lives that was currently hanging in the balance was your friend,, a miss jessa longo??"

jason quit fidgeting and looked directly at bud.. "jessa?? what the fuck could she have to do with any of this???"

"i know of at least two others who are asking that very question at this very moment... only difference is,,, one of them is willing to kill her to find out....."

Chapter Forty

chapter 40
word count: 653

"Bud, I got the background checks you wanted on Stan White and the others." Red's call interrupted Bud Kramer's turbulent daydream.

"I asked for checks? Must have been a mistake. Forget about it." Bud hung up before Red could respond. He might have been, wished he was, anywhere else. In fact, his old desktop looked oddly unfamiliar, as though it belonged to someone else. Was this the price of losing your honor? Detachment from what used to be familiar and loved.



In a storeroom on the other side of town, Janey shivered, not certain if it was from a draft or sheer terror. She'd been alone for a long time. They'd taken away the man who kidnapped her. Now she sat in the dark, bound by rough ropes and deathly afraid. Thoughts of Bud kept her will to survive alive. Surely they would give her some food soon. She could smell cooking aromas coming from somewhere...garlic, spices, bread baking, even coffee. Her mouth watered. If only they would at least turn on a light. Speaking of "they"--she had no idea who "they" were. Her heart pounded like a racing horse again. She'd had palpitations off and on for hours.

With a creak, the heavy door opened and a bundle dropped to the floor. She shrieked at the heap abandoned in the corner. With the dim light, it was nothing more than a gray mound. A gray mound that moved! And it moaned.

"Oh, goddamn!"

A head rose up from the mass. At least it resembled a head. Even in the dim, Jane could see the face nodded with pain to match the ungodly moans. Was it the man who kidnapped her?

"Are you all right?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Jesus Christ! Do I look all right?"

"I was just asking..."

"A lot of good that does."

"What...what happened to you?" There went her heart again, racing, racing.

"The bastards beat the shit outta me, can't you see that?"

"I guess. It's dark in here."

"Sweetheart, you should be glad. You wouldn't want to see me in good light."

"I guess you're right. I never could stand the sight of blood."

He snorted in return.

Janey studied the sorrowful lump of a man. He certainly didn't seem as dangerous now as when he dragged her screaming from her home. Now he was small, wounded, defenseless, defenseless like her. She relaxed. "Could I ask you something? Why did you kidnap me?"

In the dim light his body went rigid. "It was all about your dear hubby, lady. I needed to control your dear hubby."

"Why?"

"He was getting too close. That's all. He was getting too close."

She and Bud never thought his work would put his family in danger. A medical examiner normally doesn't delve into the violent side of police work. But then, Bud was no normal medical examiner. "Did you commit a crime?"

"YEAH, I COMMITTED A CRIME! Now back off!"

"It must have been a terrible crime. I'm just saying, kidnapping me was an extreme act."

He bolted up. "Are you trying to make me insane?"

"No. Just trying to figure out how I got into this mess, that's all."

"Well, look, little Miss Sweetness and Light, you were nothing more than a pawn in other people's mind games, okay?"

"Okay...So who are the people holding both of us now?"

He was silent for a moment before answering in a husky whisper, "Mafioso."

Her heart took off on the most rambunctious arrhythmias yet. "What?"

"Lady, if I wasn't tied up, I'd get up and pop you one. Are you ever gonna shut up?"

"I'm just saying it looks to me like we are not enemies anymore. We're fellow victims."

"Well, whoopee! You wanna start a club or something?"

"Well, we could help each other. Give each other moral support at least."

"That we should, lady, that we should."

chapter thirty nine

word count: 637

bud punched the redial on his cell,, and just as quickly snapped the phone closed... no... he would not involve "red" in this.. red was a good cop,, a straight cop,, and buds only link to the "real" police force at this point in time.. the less red knew then better.. no telling if they would drag him into this somehow,, and then he would have reds future hanging in the balance as well...

"so tell me ren,, exactly what do we know about this guy,, this di marco???" bud himself knew very little.. he was a guard at the prison, he was pals with stan white,, and more than likely he had in some way been involved,, or at least had knowledge of the whole "baby in the bucket" thing that had gotten them into this mess in the first place....

"well,, i can tell you i know for a fact he is a player.. he has as many friends on the inside as he does on the outside... " ren started,, as he loudly smacked his lips around the tip of each finger in hopes of finding a bit of leftover sugar.... '"he's good at what he does... lots of underlying suspicions,, no proof,, ya know what i mean???"

yeah.. bud knew exactly what he meant.. in fact to him it sounded like ren malleo was reading aloud his own autobiography...

for as long as bud could remember everybody suspected warren "ren" malleo was dirty,, was playing both sides against the middle.. but no one could ever pin anything on him.. he had too many friends.. to many favors out.. too much protection... and it wasn't only on the dark side of his family tree.. he had just as many dirty cops that owed him, as he did compadres...

bud decided he might be handy to have as a partner on this thing after all,, if anyone could crawl up vic di marco's ass,, it was ren malleo.. they were one in the same....

as they pulled into the parking lot of the prison, bud flashed his badge at the guard at the gate.. he had not had the chance to make any of his findings on the case public,, and thus the hierarchy of the DOC had no reason to believe he was not there in his original official capacity...

he would continue with the investigation as if he had never heard of the now deceased, jessica what ever the hell her last name was,, and her virulent lover, stan white... he would forget that he knew that it was them that had conceived not only the fetus itself,, but the plan for its unceremonious burial in a bucket full of used kitchen grease. he would forget that he had seen stan white bound, gagged, hog tied, and beaten on the cold cement floor in the back room of malleos restaurante...he would forget for the moment he had ever heard the name vick fucking dimarco...

but he would not for so much as an instant,, forget that this two faced piece of human shit that was now being forced upon him as his partner, was linked by blood to the bastard that had his beloved janey,, held somewhere against her will,, and would not release her to him,, until he had extracted the highest payment imaginable from bud,, his honor... no that he would not, could not forget...

bud took a deep breath.. he closed his eyes and let some of the homicidal rage that now dwelled within him to be caught up in that breath,, and with it,, exhaled...

he would start at day one.. all the way back.. with the two inmates that originally located the baby in the bucket on the side of the road...

he would start with jason alexander and raul martinez....

chapter thirty eight

Chapter 38
word count: 462

Bud sipped hot coffee before leaning back to take a long look at his new companion, "Ren." So now he was cavorting with the enemy, a bloody cop on the take. The guy's uncle was mafioso. And Ren was nothing more than a quick fix in the department to keep his family's noses clean. Bud's stomach lurched at the prospect of working with the guy. And, now he promised Uncle Frank he would look the other way when Frank needed him to, just like this idiot...shit. He was no better than Ren now.

The cop looked back, a hesitant smile crossing his face. He appeared less than eager to work with Bud. The fellow took a bite from a sugar donut. Ha! The irony...this filthy hand of the mafia, sitting around drinking coffee, eating donuts, and acting like a friendly neighborhood beat cop.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" Ren wiped sugar off his fingers and flipped open a notebook,

"No."

"Well, as I was telling you in the car, I know who we're looking for. I just don't know where they are right now."

"Refresh my memory." You filthy bastard.

"We're looking for Vic DeMarco and a hot little number he picked up off the street, a hooker."

"Splendid."

"You got an attitude problem?"

Bud returned his gaze. The fat ass-hole. Look at him, stuffing his face with donuts. The man was a poster boy for weakness and lack of discipline. It was hard to believe the guy had such ruthless relatives. The choir boy innocence had worked, though, getting him a job on the force. Who could believe he had blood on his hands?

Then he remembered why he was doing this. Janey's face wafted through his mind, and the picture Uncle Frank had shown him, the one where her beautiful eyes looked out, begging for rescue. "So when did you talk to him last?"

"He called me on his cell phone for an update. I told him what had happened, how Uncle Frank had your wife and Stan. He went ballistic. He wanted them."

"What for?"

"I'm not sure if he is on a power binge or if there's some reason he needs a bargaining tool." Ren took another bite of donut, and continued, answering with his mouth full. "I've never quite understood the guy. A lot of skeletons in his closet."

Bud's heart clouded. "My wife is in the middle of this.You mean he wants a bargaining chip against me?"

"I don't know. You got anything on him?"

"Who the hell is he?"

"Security at the prison. You know him."

Bud gulped his coffee. Of course, that Vic DeMarco. We're back to the prison again. "Did he have anything to do with those canisters that were found?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure."

"Well, let's find out."

chapter thirty seven

word count: 641

"so when do i get to see janey?" bud asked,, knowing full well it would never be that easy...

"not so fast,, my new friend..." uncle frank laughed under his breath,, as he rolled his cigar in the ashtray,, he pushed the ashes around with the stub of his cigar... pondering the ashes as if what he was about to say was hidden in there somewhere,, and he had to find it....

finally he lifted his head,, looked directly at bud and smiled knowingly...

"you understand,, of course," he spoke slowly and distinctly,, "that there are certain aspects of this most recent,, shall we call it,, 'chain of events',, that concern me greatly...." he paused,, exhaled and continued,, "not the least of which is the unfortunate passing of my beloved nephew,, ruben. may he rest in peace...." he made the sign of the cross ,, glanced up,, as if into the heavens,, and then returned his gaze to bud....

"it has been brought to my attention,, that the piece of shit that we found in possession of your lovely wife,, more than likely perpetrated the untimely demise of my dear departed nephew,, as well..." he took a deep breath,, leaned forward on his desk,, settling his chin into the crook between his thumb and forefinger,, and stared directly into buds eyes...

"however,, i,, much like you ,, my friend,, prefer never to jump to hasty a conclusion... i want facts.. physical evidence even where ever possible... an eyewitness perhaps??? and that,, as i am sure you can see,, is where you come into all of this....."

"a friend of mine,, a trusted friend,, has led me to believe that there were others present,, there in the the moments that my ruben drew his final breath... others that can confirm or deny my suspicions,, and thus cut short this period of,, well,, indecision...."

"given your degree of expertise as a detective,, and your intimate knowledge of the point of origination of this atrocity,," he looked knowingly at bud,, causing bud to wonder if in fact he was privy to information concerning the investigation from which all of this had eroded.. "and your,, shall we say,, 'connections'? i have decided that you will be the one to find these 'others',, and bring them here to me... i want you to find them.. i want them delivered to me,, personally.. and i want them,, with in twenty four hours..."

"if and when you comply with my wishes,, i will reunite you with your wife.. and not until.." as he finished his statement uncle frank pushed back his chair,, stood and walked to the door.. for an instant bud thought that was it,, he was going to open the door and usher him out...

instead, as uncle frank opened the door,, he heard him confer briefly,, in hushed tones,, with one of his associates that stood just outside the door...

bud heard the sound of footsteps,, someone walking away? then silence.. finally the returning sound of footsteps,, but this time,, it was more than one set of footsteps,, and they were walking toward the door....

"uncle frank,," bud recognized a familiar voice as it broke the previously dead silence...

"come in,, please... i've been expecting you ... so glad you could join us.." uncle frank greeted the familiar voice warmly,, with an audible kiss on each cheek...

the two of entered the room and the door was closed behind them...they moved toward bud,, who was still seated in silence,, facing uncle franks enormous mahogany desk.. as they walked to the front of the desk and into buds field of vision uncle frank used his hand to signify his desire for bud to stand and greet the newcomer...

"detective," uncle frank smiled as he winked at his guest, " i believe you know my nephew,, my brother wally's oldest son,, warren..."

chapter thirty six

word count: 690

The exterior of Malleo's hadn't changed through generations of the family. Father passed it to son and each succeeding generation kept that facade of their life and "business" the same. Bud remembered when he was just a kid standing across the street watching limousines drop off well-heeled "customers." If not them, then dirty skinny degenerate types oozed through the front door like dirty water after a storm, looking over their shoulders in fear with hands trembling. To be succinct, even little Buddy knew something was going on behind those heavy oak doors. Something bad, very bad.

Bud kept those ghostly memories with him as he stepped in Malleo's Ristorante that afternoon. A waitress shot him a startled look and turned her head in alarm to a fellow seated at a table in the corner. He put down his wine and bolted toward the offices in the back.

"I'd like to see Uncle Frank." He stood calmly while nailing the waitress to the floor with his eyes.

"Um...yeah, sure. Tony's seein' about it...Mr. Kramer."

They knew who he was. Not surprising. Everyone in town knew Bud Kramer and his ghastly disposition coupled with astute detective skills. The nightly news had seen to that. They were enamored by his flair, his problem-solving. He always surprised.

"Mr. Kramer..."

Tony escorted him to the back through a darkened hallway. Bud felt thick expensive carpet under his feet. It was too dim to see what color it was. Maybe brown, maybe dark red...like the dried-up blood of Uncle Frank's enemies. A light at the end of the hallway drew them in. A huge man sat hunched over a desk, cigar perched in his fat fingers.

"Mr. Kramer."

"Actually it's Dr. Kramer. I'm a doctor, a pathologist."

"Whatever. Have a seat." He paused, eyeing Bud from top to bottom. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Not many people set Bud's heart to racing, wanting to flee, but Uncle Frank did. The giant man telegraphed a great many bad things. Disdain for others, sinful pride, decadence, blood lust, greed, a rejection of normal values of respect and love for neighbor, replaced with a soldier-like warped view of reality where anyone and everyone else is the enemy and justified to be killed if necessary. He was dirty. Evil. Sick.

"I think we may be looking for the same culprit, the guy who killed your boy Reuben."

"Is that right?"

"Well, I'm looking for him, too."

The big man shifted in his seat, making the overworked old chair squeak. "Don't you think you ought to be looking for your wife?" he asked.

Bud's world came crashing through. Janie! What the hell did this thug know about Jane? Uncle Frank leered back at him, his bulbous face grinning, shooting off sparks of evil glee. Bud lunged at the man; all he could see was black rage. He wanted to kill. But heavy hands held him back. Uncle Frank's minions had popped out of the woodwork.

"You bastard! What do you know about Jane?"

"This." Uncle Frank dangled a photo in front of his eyes. It was a photo of Jane, seated in her wheel chair, ropes wrapped around her, her face contorted by fear.

He pushed against the hands that held him and roared, an unhuman growl. All that he held precious in the world was in the hands of this monster. He had to get her back.

"'Doctor' Kramer, we need to make a deal. Wouldn't you agree?" Uncle Frank took a long puff off his cigar and blew smoke in Bud's face.

Bud looked back. His blood skidding through his veins in a race to parts unknown. His head swirled like he'd stepped into another universe with different colors and thinner air, one where the standard rules certainly no longer apply. Jane! He had to get Jane back! Her face in the photo haunted him. She looked so lost.

"Whatever you want. I'll do whatever you want." And so, Bud Kramer, the last honest man, went down in flames.

"From now on, you're one of my boys, you got that?" Uncle Frank said.

chapter thirty five

word count: 582

bud took a deep cleansing breath and allowed his logical,,calculating mind to put some of the pieces of this puzzle together..

we had the dead girl,, the mother of the child,, jessica whatever her name was... a scared,, beaten imp of a girl,, that had worked in the cafeteria of the prison...

enter,, stan white,, prison guard,, fit for the father,,, he was there in the fore of the whole thing.. had access to the buckets as they seemingly appeared and disappeared like a magicians trick,, somehow in the safe confines of the doc..... yes,, bud believed he could make that happen...he had also been m.i.a.. since the finding of jessica's body..

bud could see it all so clearly now,, white had panicked,, when he had closed in on the woman,, and offed her in an effort to shut her up.. ok,, that fit too...

so far as bud could deduce thru the grieve soaked haze in which he was presently mired... white had been the missing piece in every thing so far,, well everything accept the dead junky.. sargent "ren" malleo's brother reuben,, how did white tie in??

there had to be something... something that bud was missing,, something that tied stan white to that murder,, coincidence was not a word bud believed existed for any good reason other than to provide the inept with an easy explanation,,, and mired in grief tho he was he was definitely not inept...

his mind cleared,, his heart raced.. he could feel it,, he was on to something,, all these years on the force had taught him one very important thing... your gut don't lie...

he picked up the phone and called the station.. he ordered a full background on everyone he knew to be involved,, stan white his partner vic di marco,, the girl, the confirmed mother of the fetus, jessica.. why the hell couldn't he remember her last name??? reuben malleo, deceased,, warren "ren" malleo ,, just because the guy hung his shingle out proclaiming himself to be a cop,, did not relieve him of being a suspect.. especially now,, with a dead brother and his mafioso ties...

"why hadn't bud seen the connection before??" he had had "ren" there with him in the parking lot,, the murder scene,, he had allowed himself to be blinded by sentiment,, and that fucking blind spot had provided exactly the the window that someone needed to crash into his home,, invade his world,, and kidnap his beloved janie...

bud worked it thru,, "ren" was a cop,, he was gonna be easy to keep tabs on ,, his brother was dead,, stan white was out there somewhere,, more than likely with his precious wife.. that left vic dimarco,, unaccounted for..

bud grabbed the phone and made a call to his partner,, red,, "vic di marco.. find him.. you can reach me on my cell..." he barked into the phone,, and snapped it closed.

that left the final piece... the yacovella family...

the family was more than likely gunning for who ever it was they suspected of killing "one of their own" no matter how many times removed... and if bud knew "uncle frank" like he thought he did ,, he knew his criminal mind had latched onto this whole stan white thing long ago,, as he had been unaddled by the wave of grief bud himself had succumbed to,, and not lost out on precious time...

bud grabbed his keys.. he knew now what the next step had to be... malleos restaurante.. he had to get to uncle frank....

chapter thirty four

chapter 34
word count: 587

Ren hung up after talking to Vic, shaking his head. Would that be enough to satisfy his people? Well, he'd find out soon enough.

Later, he entered the restaurant. The usual rush bulleted through his veins in hefty pumps. It always felt that way as soon as he entered the premises. Even when he was a kid and had no idea of the "business" in the back, there was something about Malleo's Ristorante, perhaps the eerie lighting or its Old World flair. It was like walking into a new era.

"Back again so soon?" the waitress asked.

"Is he in?"

"Yeah, go on back."

Uncle Frank was hunched over his desk as usual. He nodded when Ren walked in. "I hope you have good news for me," he said without looking up.

"Your guys got him."

The red bulbous face broke into an evil smile. "Bring him here. Let me see the sonofabitch who killed my Ruben."

"I'll tell Ricco, but Uncle Frank, there's something else."

"Eh?" His attention had already returned to his work.

"There's a woman, too. He had kidnapped this girl and we got her in the process."

The older man looked back, now interested. "Who the hell is she?"

"Bud Kramer's wife."

"Kramer's wife! What the hell?"

"Uncle Frank, here's the deal. A guard at the prison who knew all about our guy. He's the one who tipped us off. I owe him. He says we can keep the killer, but he doesn't want us to have the woman."

"Has he got some beef with Kramer?"

"I dunno."

Uncle Frank paused, rubbing his chin, thinking. Finally, he spoke. "We'll keep her, too. She must be worth something. I'm sure we can use her to our own advantage...a little leverage against Kramer. He's always been a pain in the ass getting underfoot."

"Vic's not gonna like this."

"So what? What do I care what a two-bit security guard thinks. Bring them both here and forget about it."


Across town, Bud Kramer sat in his favorite chair in their living room. Sitting rigid, straight up, not moving. What was there to move for anyway? He was waiting. Just waiting for the phone to ring. He needed to know where to go, to go and bring his wife home. They were late. They should have called last night. Now it was the middle of the next day and still no word. Where the hell was she? Where was Jane?

It gave him time to think, to ponder the initial call, to wonder with whom he was dealing. The caller had said he knew who took her. He offered to chase that guy down and bring her back. The more Bud thought about it, the more convinced he was the caller was, in fact, the man who took Jane and not a bystander. But why? When the caller made his list of demands, there was nothing in the list to offer any clues.

Perhaps it was someone Bud had brought to justice, maybe sent to jail, and this was simply of matter of revenge. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. His heart stopped. If it was revenge, Jane would never come home. The animal was simply taunting him, making him suffer, before the kill.

Surely, the lab had finished with samples he sent in...he'd hardly completed the thought when the phone rang. It was his assistant, Red.

"Bud, the prints have been identified. A guard at the prison, Stan White."

chapter thirty three

word count: 536

vic smacked open his cell.."di marco.." he barked into the receiver...

"so what is that supposed to mean,, good news and bad news???" he stood up and started pacing the room...

"they what??? how the fuck did that happen??"

"god fucking damn it.. you know what this means??? do you?? do you know what this fucking means?"

whatever it was.. it wasn't good.. jessa could only hear the one side of the conversation,, but from her vantage point the possibilities that she was going to get out of this,, or just out of these freakin' handcuffs was dimming by the second....

"i cannot f'ing believe this.. there has to be something.. some way... let me think on this and i'll get back to you..."

"no!!! for christs sake ren...you have fucking done enough as it is!!!" snap.. the cell was closed... the energy level in the room heightened considerably as vic threw his hands up in disgust...

"small potatoes girl friend.. you just became really small potatoes you know that???"

"what the fuck is that supposed to mean???" jessa snapped back.. handcuffed or no,, jessa was not letting off on her edge.. she had nothing else on which to rely at this point...

"it means.. what ever the fuck happens to you,, and what you know,, doesn't mean diddely squat anymore.. it means you are worth no more to me alive than dead.. it means if you piss me the fuck off i am going to kill you myself you stupid fucking whore.. so if i was you i would keep my freaking pie hole shut!!!!"

vic was ranting,, fuming... he was pissed at the world.. and she was in the perfect position to take the brunt of it.. damn it...

"ok,, ok.. tough ain't gonna cut it sister... whats your next move??" jessa's brain went into over drive.. she could do this.. she had gotten out of worse scrapes than this.. if there was a frickin' god,, he had not saved her from sure death so many times before this,, just to bring her here and let her die handcuffed,, in a chair,, in some cheap motel... that much she knew.....

vic slapped open his cell.. he hit speed dial.. someone he knew well enough to need the number at the press of a button,, jessa noted...

"ren.. check this out.. lets work this thing out together.. call 'em.. tell em they get to keep the guy.. payment.. blood for blood.. for ruben..."

ren??? ruben??? ruben?? as in "big ruben" malleo.. brother of sargent warren "ren" malleo,, that fat bald headed piece of perverted ass??? that fucking asshole junky who insists his father was some kind of a mafioso?? the one with the fucking cop brother that always seemed to get him out of the little cuts and scrapes that landed everyone else in the can?? the very reason that jason was behind bars right now?? ruben?? was that who was fucking beat to a bloody pulp in the parking lot of the ware house?????

the picture was becoming a whole lot clearer... now all she had to do was figure out how vic di marco fit into all of this... she had a sneaking suspicion,, if she could do that... she was home free.....

chapter thirty two

chapter 32
word count: 541

Jane opened her eyes slowly, very slowly because with the slightest movement her head protested in thunderous bolts of pain. She must have fainted...or been knocked out. With a deep breath to withstand the next pang, she threw her eyes wide open. The room was dimmed. A guard stood by the door, a desolate figure hunched over a machine gun. A tiny ray of soft morning light reached through an open slit where the drapes didn't quite come together. It must be morning. The light beam danced across the carpet in a frenetic display, driven by an obscure movement outside turning its beam off and on like a light switch. The little dancing light was like a ray of hope, hope she would get out of there and back to Bud.

He would be worried, always treating her like a porcelain doll, fragile and easily broken. But she was made of tougher stuff. Being a cripple her whole life toughened her other senses and hardened her skin. A quiet woman, her powers of observation and deduction were astute. It was no accident Bud frequently brought home mysteries to pick her brain. Her current predicament had come out of nowhere though. She could only guess these thugs were Bud's enemies, including the one bound, gagged, and dumped in a heap across the room from her, her first abductor.

It must be a motel room--the cheap TV on a dresser, monotone bedspread. The bathroom door lay ajar, a crack revealing bright light inside. A movement. A voice.

"Ren? Tell Uncle Frank. We got him, and the woman, too. I don't know what you want to do with the cesspool who whacked Ruben, but the woman could be valuable to us."

The other voice crackled in Ricco's ear. "You got Stan? Jesus! That's great. I'll tell Uncle Frank. Maybe let him decide on the festivities. But Ricco, the woman, she's married to a cop! If you jerk around with her, you'll have every badge in town gunning for you for kidnapping one of their own."

Ricco shifted on his feet nervously, finally sitting on the closed toilet seat. He leaned forward and hissed into the phone, "I gotta use her for something! I got a lot of trouble chasing my ass. She could buy me freedom, man!"

Jane stretched to listen. It was her life they were talking about. Although she only heard one side, it was enough. Enough to know she wouldn't be going home soon. A shuffle made her look up. The thug across the room was waking.

"Ow, shit!" He moaned, then startled when he saw his thigh, wrapped with a sheet, a blood-stained sheet, although the brilliant hues of red where it was fresh, and a duller maroon where old blood had dried, looked entirely gray in the dim light. He gazed over and spotted Jane.

He nodded to her and moved his gagged face in frantic motions, enticing her to come closer.

It was then Jane realized she was gagged, too, and her hands bound. She looked back, eyes wide. Neither of them were going anywhere, at least not by their own volitions. Not that she would go anywhere with that sonofabitch anyway.