chapter fifty

Chapter 50
word count: 610

Frank took the last bite of fritatta and laid down his fork and knife with care. He snapped the clean linen napkin out of his collar and waved his hand for Luigi. The harried chef rushed in from the kitchen.

“Get me Tony.”

“Yes, Uncle Frank.”

Luigi rushed to a phone on the kitchen wall. It didn't take long for Tony to arrive. Frank's “staff” were generally on the premises, cocooned in its terse corridors and closet-like enclosures.

“Uncle Frank?” The grim fellow stood, waiting for a nod of Frank's head to indicate he should sit. The nod didn't come.

“Tony. I want you to take them out—Bud Kramer and that imbecile, Ren. And find DiMarco and that whore—get rid of them, too. Take as many men as you need.”

“Yes, sir, Uncle Frank.”

“Now get outta here!”

As his minion made tracks, Frank leaned back and enjoyed his cup of steaming coffee. Ah, peace at last...


Bud burst through the door of McDonald's with Jorge in tow, his eagle-like eyes scanning the room before he was all the way through. The place was empty except for a couple seated by the window. The man's back was to them, but the hair was DiMarco's coal black. The girl was no prize, but Bud had no idea what the whore was supposed to look like.

He turned and grabbed Jorge by the collar and hissed in his ear. “Is that your buddy?”

“I don't know...could be. I can't see his face.”

“Well, let's find out, shall we?” Bud rushed up and spun the man around, then flinched. The man wasn't Vic.

“What the fuck you doing?” the guy screamed, pulling himself free of the man's grasp.

Bud pulled back in horror. What was he doing? Accosting innocent people, bullying them. What was happening to him? His intensity about Janie was making him a crazy bastard. He had to get a grip.

“Look man, I'm sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

“Get away from me, you son of a bitch!”

Bud grabbed Jorge and dragged him out of the restaurant. He felt the anger broiling in his chest again. He pulled Jorge close. “Are you bull-shitting me or was he really supposed to be in there?”

“That's what he told me! I wouldn't shit you, man!”

“Yeah, right!” Bud leaned against the building in exhaustion. What next? His eyes rested on the boulevard out front. He bolted up. A black Cadillac was cruising toward the red light. “That's Uncle Frank's thugs! I'd know that car anywhere!”

“So what! I don't want anything to do with them!”

Bud grabbed Jorge and shoved him in his car. “Yes, you do. We're following them. I'm not taking my eyes off you, so you're coming with me.”

The Cadillac wove through city streets with ease. It never missed a green light and flew just above the speed limit getting from point A to point B with style and grace. Bud was hard put to keep up. He was surprised when the car turned onto a desolate bridge on the edge of town and stopped. A fast-moving river flowed beneath it. Bud knew full well what would happen next.

Two men got out of the car and opened the trunk, lifting a large dark bundle out and with a heave-ho hoisted it up and over the railing. The Cadillac sped away before the waters calmed.

“Looked like we're going to have to get a crew down here to fish that up and see who Uncle Frank has bumped off now,” Bud murmured, reaching for his cell. “Poor soul!”