J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 06 - Death Gone Awry (16 page)

“No, but she’d have read his tea leaves if he’d stayed for a cup. I didn’t let her read mine,” I said with a chuckle. “I have enough to handle without worrying over whether my tea leaves are on the mark, or not.”

Moments later, Aaron bid me goodbye, sauntered out to his truck and drove away. I dialed Porter Anderson’s number.

“Anderson.”

“It’s me, Vinnie.” I spoke low, then realized I was alone and didn’t need to hush my voice.

“I saw that on the caller I.D. What can I do for you, Vin?”

“You’ve heard Slaggard has disappeared, right?” I asked.

“I have. What’s your interest in it?”

“Not much. He was gone when I arrived at Lola’s. There’d been a struggle, though, because the house was trashed. Any idea who took him or where we might find the man?” I asked, hopeful that information-wise he wouldn’t shut me out.

“We’re on the lookout for him and earlier Dario told me there was a lead.”

“He didn’t say what, though, right? Or are you just not going to tell me, for fear I’ll interfere?”

“He didn’t say. Dario will look into it and said he’ll get back to me.”

I hemmed a moment and then asked, “Could you let me know what he finds out? I’m concerned for Lola’s well-being.”

“I’m sure you are, but it’s more likely that you want a chance to find him on your own, am I right?”

“A bit of both, I guess.” No sense denying it, Porter knew me well enough to be right in his assessment.

“When Dario lets me know, I’ll give you a call. Until then, stay out of the situation. You and Lola could be in danger, grave danger, Vinnie.”

“Will do, thanks, Porter,” I said and the line went dead.

Next, I dialed Dario’s cell phone number. He answered on the first ring and asked, “Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, don’t worry. I’d like to know what you’ve found on Slaggard.”

“Not much, Vinnie. It seems he’s off the grid for the time being. Where, is anyone’s guess. So guess for me, will you?”

“Are you serious?”

“I am, so give it a go,” Dario’s voice encouraged me to offer up people I considered persons of interest. “Look at Frankie Tomatoes, and then at both of the Gravani men.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I’ll be in touch, Vin, but only if you promise to stay clear.”

I promised, crossed my fingers while doing so, and the line went dead. A sharp rap sounded on the door. I put the phone on vibrate, so Lola and I wouldn’t be interrupted, and stuffed it into the back pocket of my jeans. Expecting to find Lola in the hallway, I swung the door wide open.

“W-what are you doing?” I said in a shocked, somewhat strangled voice, as the huge man grabbed me by the throat and jerked me through the doorway.

I fought hard, kicked and flailed, then clawed at the thumb he had clamped tightly on one side of my neck. His strength was incredible, the size of him enormous, and while I stand an inch or so short of six feet tall, I felt like a rag doll in his grip. I shoved my thumb under his and bent it back with all my strength. The effect was instantaneous and his grip loosened while he yowled in pain.

I stumbled back against the wall when he let go, and looked up just in time to see a huge fist come my way. All else faded to black.

Chapter 16

Darkness surrounded me when I came to. Bound to a chair, I fought down the panic that threatened to overtake me. Where was I? Who’d taken me, and why? Would I be missed very soon?

Dry mouthed from the gag tied in place, I pushed at it with my tongue and felt the knot give a bit as I worked my jaw up and down and back and forth. Struggling against the rough rope that secured my hands, I could feel the roughness of the material cut into my wrists. With a deep breath, I stopped, listened carefully for sounds that might help me figure out my location, all I could hear were scratching noises. God help me, I was deathly afraid of rats and hoped there weren’t any in this dark, dank place.

Dampness filled the air, the place smelled musty. I sniffed and wiggled my feet against the floor. A cellar, maybe? The material under my feet was softer than concrete would be, and a dirt floor came to mind. There were two things I knew for sure, I was in a dirt cellar, and it was damp and musty. My panic had subsided as I thought of ways to get out of this predicament.

While continuing to loosen my bindings, I realized I’d been tied to a collapsible metal chair rather than a wooden one. Who’d be stupid enough to use a folding chair? I wondered and wiggled it around to find out it wasn’t a sound piece of furniture.

My phone buzzed against my butt. I shifted and raised my hip to my hand in order to reach it. It kept buzzing, went silent, and then buzzed some more. Whoever was trying to reach me kept dialing, let it go to voice mail, and then dialed again. I sent a silent thank you to the person on the other end of the phone.

With two fingertips, I edged the phone out of my pocket and scooted toward the front edge of the chair, leaving enough space to set the phone down. It nearly slid off the seat and I groaned to think I’d almost lost my chance to reach out for help.

Awkwardly, I twisted my head to see who’d called, when the phone went off once more. I poked the call and listened as Lola asked where I was. I made as much vocal noise as the gag allowed and then heard her say, “Vinnie, is that you?”

I made a couple more sounds that were supposed to mean yes. It seemed Lola understood because she said, “Aaron and I will track your location through 9-1-1, stay connected if you can.” I gave another muffled groan or two and breathed with relief.

When the door yawned opened, a tall, wide shadow stretched across the room. Before the light reached me, I slid my butt to the side in an effort to hide the open line of the phone, lolled my head to the side and closed my eyes to mere slits. My breathing slowed and the dim light from behind him, showed the outline of the hefty figure. All I could make out was his silhouette, no hair color, features or anything useful for identification. Fear sped from my toes to my throat, and I nearly choked on it.

“She’s still out cold. I gave her a solid punch to the jaw for fighting me, so she might be unconscious for a while longer,” the man said over his shoulder. “When she comes to, we’ll make her tell us where Slaggard is. The boss said we can’t damage her much, though. Too bad, she’s a handful.”

I recognized his voice as that of the man who’d shoved me into the alcove door on South Main Street. A thug, he probably worked as a
soldati
, a soldier, for the mob. Shit, shit, shit.

The door creaked and groaned as it closed once again. When the latch clicked, I lifted my head and in a bent over stance, I rose to my feet. The chair came up with me. I lifted one foot as far as it would go and wrestled against all my bindings, one at a time. Thankful the floor was dirt, I was certain that any sound I made would be absorbed by the soft ground. The ropes loosened as I worked against them. My wrists had become raw and painful.

Muffled sounds from beyond the door reached me. Shaking and fearful, I stepped out of the ankle ropes as they twisted and fell away. The gag had drooped enough for me to push it out of my mouth using my tongue. When the door slammed open against the wall next to it, I froze in place, while anxiety tightened every muscle and nerve in my body. That’s when I realized Aaron Grant stood framed in the doorway, and I began to cry.

He’d cut the ropes and his strong arms now held me to him. I rested my head against Aaron’s shoulder and bawled. He rubbed my back with one hand, held me tight with the other and mumbled endearments mingled with comforting words that soothed me. Porter and Dario filtered into the room along with a few FBI agents.

Sniffling, I swiped the tears from my face and snot from my nose with the sleeve of my sweater. Gross as the action was, there wasn’t a tissue in sight. I turned and grabbed my phone from the floor where it had landed when I’d stood. Aaron led me from the root cellar where the thugs had held me captive.

The men in charge of my abduction were absent. I studied the area as I passed through the dimly lit room, mentally acknowledging it had been used for years as a wine cellar. An old wine press, covered with a thick layer of dust sat discarded in a corner, overturned chairs and a table filled the remainder of the small space. Racks for wine bottles covered an entire wall of the
cantina dei vini
.

The room I’d been kept in had most likely been used as a root cellar, known as a
cantina radice
. Old world Italian families had used them often, but not so much these days.

I stumbled up the stairs, out the back door, and climbed into the Yukon where Lola anxiously awaited my arrival. I turned and said, “My God, I can’t believe you found me. Thank you, Lola.”

Outside the truck, lawmen talked, Aaron issued orders, and then he removed the bullet proof vest from under his jacket. I motioned Porter over and opened the window.

He stared at me with gray eyes that were almost always cool and clear. At this moment, they were easy to read and filled with compassion, and I gave him a smile.

“I heard one guy tell the other that they would interrogate me and force me to tell them where Slaggard disappeared to. These guys don’t have him.”

His eyes widened, he gave me a nod and said, “I thought you promised to stay clear of this, Vin.”

“I did. After we spoke, I called Dario and then heard a knock on the door. When I opened it, the brute was there. He choked me, we fought, and I think I broke his thumb. That’s when my lights went out and I woke up in there.” I thumbed toward the house where I’d been held and tears started to flow again.

He reached through the window and touched my face. “If anyone could have escaped, it would have been you, Vinnie. You’re way too shrewd, and have a knack for never giving in, to let thugs or anyone else get the best of you. Get some rest, we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

I nodded, sniffled, and took the tissue that Lola offered.

Porter glanced into the back seat and said, “You did a great job, Lola. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Lola said and then giggled lightly.

The SUV rolled from the yard as Aaron turned it toward Scituate. He hadn’t uttered a word, but let me recline against the seat instead of pummeling me with questions.

We reached the village in no time, and the three of us tumbled from the vehicle and into my apartment. Lola pulled wine and beer from the fridge, gathered glasses from the cupboard and told me to get cleaned up while she whipped up a snack. I nodded and left them to it.

My wrists were raw, blood caked the skin in places where it was thin, and stung like hell as water pulsed against it. I stood in the shower for what seemed like ages, allowing hot water to splash over me in an effort to cleanse me of my near deadly experience. Would they have beaten me to a pulp? What other methods would have been used to get me to tell them what I didn’t know? I shivered as images popped into my overactive brain and cried a bit before my inner voice interrupted the pity-party.
Get your shit together, you weren’t hurt, or raped, or beaten, so get over yourself, already.

“You’re right,” I murmured and shut off the water.

I stood before the mirror to assess the damage and noted the bruise on my face and marks on my neck where the thug had squeezed tight. All told, I wasn’t in bad condition, at least not physically, the mental damage would take a bit more to deal with. I dressed and joined my rescuers.

Curly, towel dried locks tumbled in wild profusion over my shoulders. I slid into a chair at the dining table across from Aaron. Lola handed over a glass of wine and a serving of frittata she’d cooked while I’d gotten cleaned up.

“Eat up, you’ll feel better,” Lola ordered.

I smiled, gobbled the food, and sipped wine with more appreciation than I’d ever had in my life. “Tell me what happened when you discovered I’d gone missing and how you found me,” I said around a mouthful of food.

Her glance went to Aaron and he nodded. “I came by as we’d planned. The doors were wide open, your handbag was on the counter, and I panicked. Aaron arrived not long after I did, and we searched the house. We waited while Aaron called some friends to start a search when you didn’t show up. In between, I began calling you. Thank God you were able to answer the phone. I’m so relieved you’re okay, Vinnie,” Lola said and squeezed my hand.

Aaron put his fork down, stared at me, and said, “Porter was pissed off. He said you’d promised to steer clear of this mess and let him and Dario follow their leads.”

I nodded and swallowed. “I did promise, and that’s when the knock on the door turned out to be a brute and not Lola. I tried to kick his ass, but he was stronger and bigger than me. He shook me like a rag doll, and when he couldn’t get me under control, he punched me in the face. Lights out until I woke up in that cellar.” I’d begun to shake and hauled in deep breaths. When the trembling stopped, I reached for the wine and slugged it down. “Thanks for the save, both of you. I wasn’t sure I could get out on my own, never mind live through what they’d planned for me.” I sat back, ran my fingertips over the stem of my wine glass and repeated what I’d told Porter about the men not having any idea where Slaggard had gone.

“That would mean others are hunting him besides these guys.” Aaron’s phone went off and he left the table to take the call.

When he returned Lola asked, “Have these kidnappers been questioned?”

“They have. They confessed to taking you, Vin, on orders from their boss. He wants Slaggard in the worst way.”

“Who’s their boss?” I wondered aloud, folded my napkin and set it beside my dish. My appetite had fled, and I started to unravel again. Tears dribbled from my eyes and streamed down my cheeks. Impatient, I dashed them away, tucked curls behind my ears, pushed up my sleeves, and sniffed. “Sorry about that,” I murmured.

Lola and Aaron gave one another concerned looks. Yeah, this hadn’t been a stellar day and now my best buds figured I’d lost what was left of my marbles, hells bells.

“You might want to talk to someone about what happened to you, Vinnie,” Lola suggested.