Girl on a Mission: The Dead Do Speak
Chapters 43 & 44
Previously on Girl on a Mission:
Liza celebrates her 18th birthday breakfast with Shila and Cody, sparking romantic tension, until Uncle T arrives unexpectedly, looking troubled. Meanwhile, Detective Jerry gets a fresh hunch on the Play Dead Killer's pattern, preparing to alert the public and finally think like the killer to stop him.
Chapter 43
Uncle T drove around the street and parked close to the diner. After Liza saw him pull up, he waved for her to come outside. He seemed nervous and kept looking in the rearview mirror. Liza had excused herself and told Shila and Cody she would be right back. She didn’t know what had gotten into Uncle T, but considering it was her birthday, the last thing she wanted was to hear bad news.
“Have you seen your father?”
That was Uncle T’s first question. The one that dropped Liza’s heart into her stomach. “Not since this morning.” She cleared her throat. Uncle T’s anxiety was infectious. Liza could already feel her heart beating faster. She noticed her hand was shaking over her lap.
Uncle T looked through the rear and side mirrors, rolling his tongue inside his mouth. He turned and looked over his shoulder.
“Uncle T, what the hell is going on?”
He looked at her dead in the eyes. “Where was he going when you last saw him?”
“Just to run errands and get supplies for the party. Why?”
Uncle T paused. Liza waited for a response. It seemed he was struggling with what to say next.
Liza turned away. She looked out the window, then to her lap. “Did he relapse?”
“That’s the last thing on my mind right now.” He reached under his seat and took out the snub nose .38 he always kept. Checked the cylinder to make sure it was loaded, then handed it to Liza. “Take this,” he said, to Liza’s utter dismay.
She looked at the gun, then at Uncle T. “Why?”
“For protection.” He stretched the gun to her. “Take it.” The stare in his eyes told her not to refuse. She took the gun, holding it in her hands. “If someone approaches you, Liza, don’t hesitate to use it.” He looked out the window. “If you do, just call me and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Liza stared at the gun. Sure, she’s held guns before on countless occasions, but she never fired one. She wasn’t sure if she could.
“Your mother would kill me if she knew I just gave you a gun.”
A million thoughts flitted through Liza’s mind, but only one mattered. “What the hell is going on?”
Uncle T shook his head, continuing to stare through the windshield. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.” He turned to Liza. “Do you remember what happened in the club when your dad was in rehab?”
Obviously, he wasn’t getting into specifics. If you don’t remember, you were a fool who couldn’t be trusted.
Liza nodded, remembering the gunman and how Carmine lost his life. Also, the day she met Detective Hallowell and Mrs. Kensington’s murder and Shila’s induction ceremony.
Uncle T looked away. He gripped the steering wheel tight. “That guy… that piece of shit who came into the club… he has ties with the Russian mob.” He paused, as if to collect his thoughts while checking his mirrors. “The guy’s daughter went missing about two years ago until an FBI raid found her in a brothel in Arizona.” He looked at Liza. “She was trafficked out there.”
“Trafficked?” Liza understood the word, but she always related it to drug trafficking.
“Sex trafficking. Forced to prostitute herself. It’s a disgusting business and one the family refuses to indulge. It’s big business.” He paused to collect himself. “Fuckin huge business.” He shook his head, thinking. “A few years ago, a call went out across New York on the underground circuit. They were looking for gangsters to bring in fresh bodies to traffic and the payoff was… fucking colossal. But grandpa Tommy made the call on that one, considering mob men were lining up to get a piece of the action. He refused the invite and put out the order.” He paused again. “Anyone in the family caught dealing with those fuckers wouldn’t live to see the next morning. Prostitution is a harmless vice but forcing people into it.” He shook his head. “That’s not what we’re about.”
Liza shrugged. “What does this have to do with dad? I’m not following.”
“Let me finish.” He took a deep breath. “Like I said that guy who showed up at the club has Russian mob ties and after his daughter was found, he went on a rampage and contacted his people there, trying to find out who trafficked his daughter. Obviously, he isn’t a problem any longer, but there is another problem that’s come up. Apparently, his mob ties ran deep and after his body was discovered in the river last week, this mob boss lost it. He put out a twenty thousand dollar hit on the person who is facilitating the trafficking and trust me, the streets are crawling right now with mob men with itchy trigger fingers trying to piece this together. Supposedly, there’s a primary contact in Brooklyn who’s pulling all the strings for the traffickers, but no one knows who he is. They even have a picture of him, but he doesn’t hang out in the normal circles, and no one can place a finger on him.”
“You’re still not telling me what this has to do with my father.”
She watched Uncle T’s energy drop like an anvil and Liza thought he looked profoundly sad over the news he was about to reveal. The stare in his eyes carried shame.
“Supposedly right before he went to rehab, he was dealing with this trafficking guy.”
Liza knew what that meant. Boyd had aided in the trafficking of women. The truth stung like she took a bullet to the heart.
“That’s the reason the father came to the club that day. He thought your father was there. Grandpa Tommy is looking for him. Same as me and just about every other gangster in New York. It’s only a matter of time until they find him.”
“What will they do to him if they do?”
He paused. “Let’s not talk about that, ok?” He looked at her. “Let’s just find him first and talk with him. If he knows where to find this guy, then it shouldn’t be a problem, but we need to find him first. Other people won’t be so kind with getting information from him, and those Russian mobsters are something else.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing really. If you see him, you need to tell him to contact me immediately and not to go to the club. That’s first. Second, you have to stay at my apartment. I’m willing to bet yours isn’t safe any longer.”
Liza’s brow curled. “I have, like, thirty people coming over tonight.”
Uncle T snapped. “Did you hear what I just said?” He shook his head. “The party is cancelled, Liza. We need to go underground until this is all settled.”
Liza felt like a bomb had gone off in her head.
“And third, if someone approaches you and you don’t feel safe.” He gestured to the gun. “Don’t take any chances. Use it and call me immediately. If you can’t get me, call the club and tell Grandpa Tommy you’re at the job site and you're requesting additional supplies.”
Liza raised her eyebrows.
“That’s code for, I need to get rid of a body.”
Her head was spinning. This was too much information all at once. She felt numb, staring at the gun in her lap.
“Now, what errands was your father doing? Where do you think he’d be right now, considering the time?”
Liza thought about it, then provided all the places Boyd was supposed to go, fighting off her tears the entire time. After which he gave Liza another pep talk before she got out of the car, the gun now wedged between her belt buckle and her stomach. She could feel the cold steel against her skin, and she hated every second of it.
Uncle T rolled down the window. “Liza,” he called, gaining her attention. She was certain she looked like she’d just seen a ghost. “Happy birthday.”
Liza had no response. She nodded and started walking to the diner. She could see Shila and Cody sitting inside by the window. Watched as Uncle T’s Monte Carlo raced down the street.
It seemed like the entire world just blew up and was funneling down a drain into oblivion. That sinking feeling a constant player in Liza’s ever-increasing state of panic. She looked at her friends on her way back to the diner. Their faces drawn and concerned.
Obviously, they saw the look on hers.
Chapter 44
Mary Bongino handed a box of food-mostly canned and boxed goods-to Jennifer Giordano, a single mother of two. Her two kids, four-year-old Daniel and two-year-old Stephanie, stood next to her, attempting to get a peek inside the box. Mary’s best friend, Angelina, was at the table with her, handing out boxes of food.
“I’ve got cookies too.” Mary couldn’t allow those two beautiful faces to leave without some sort of sugar-coated cavity inducing sweets. “And fresh produce.”
“You’re the best, Mary. Thank you.” Jennifer was always grateful. She’d been coming to the food pantry for the better part of the last year, after her husband was killed in a car crash on the Belt Parkway. Finding work had been difficult, but finding a day care center was even harder and sometimes Jennifer had to find a way to make everything work. A box of groceries always helped in her endeavor.
Mary snatched a box of produce off the table behind her the second Larry Carpenter dropped it down. The food pantry was busy today. More than usual, and Mary’s top concern was that they were going to run out of food before everyone received their just shares. In turn, all the volunteers were snatching boxes of food so fast, Larry and his staff were working overtime trying to keep up, filling those boxes as fast as possible.
“How are we doing back there?” Mary asked Larry.
Larry shook his head. “Getting kind of low on produce.”
That was exactly what Mary did not want to hear. “Ok. I’ll call Food Mart in a minute. Maybe they can help.”
“It’s crazy today.” Larry scanned across the crowd and the long line that was wrapped around the church’s clubhouse.
“A lot of people are out of work right now. We do what we can.” Mary handed the box to Jennifer.
“Again, you’re the best Mary.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t forget to pick up some juice boxes.” Mary looked across the room, locating the table that was handing out juice boxes, gallon jugs, and government cheese. “Table ten.”
Jen followed Mary’s gaze. “Okay,” she said, dropping her box of produce in Stephanie’s stroller, then looked at Mary. “I just wanted to give you a big thank you. I got the job on Friday.”
Now that was good news. “My nephew did the right thing?”
“He did. I start tomorrow, so hopefully the next time you see us, it’s to volunteer.”
“Would love to have you, Jen. Now that’s progress.”
“Indeed.”
Jen gave another thank you and goodbye before heading over to table ten, and Mary took a good look around. The clubhouse was packed. She attended the seven thirty mass before taking the reins to get the food pantry set up by the time the eleven A.M. mass ended, and they opened the pantry’s doors. She hadn’t expected so many people to show up, more than twice the usual amount and as Larry said, they were running out of produce, and fast too, but she was hoping her contact at the Food Mart would pay off. She whispered in Angelina’s ear that she would be right back, then strolled across the clubhouse to the kitchen in the back, passing volunteer after volunteer.
The kitchen was just as busy, volunteers packing boxes, then shuffling them into the clubhouse. They couldn’t work fast enough, and Mary saw the amount of produce that was available and cringed.
“Oh, my.” Now she definitely needed Food Mart to pull through. She stepped into the office and made the call, crossing her fingers as she did. Mary had been volunteering at the food pantry since the late 70s after her two children went off to college. At the time, what she really wanted to do was get out of the house, which seemed to close in on her the longer she remained stationary. What had once been a house filled with vibrant life had turned cold and bleak, and she had to do something about it. Volunteering seemed like the best option. Her husband passed away five years ago-cancer, unfortunately-and that’s when the food pantry became her entire world. In that time, she’d made more than a few connections around town, mostly with good people who wanted to do the right thing. People she could rely on.
Unfortunately, on this day, her Food Mart connection couldn’t help. A situation that left Mary in dire straits and she had to convince herself that what they had on hand would have to do, although she really wanted everyone coming to the church to receive the same as everyone else. Canned and boxed goods were one thing, but fresh produce was another. She prayed that one of her connections could come through in a pinch.
“Having some trouble?”
Mary had the phone to her ear when she jumped in her chair and spun around with a startle. “James, you scared the bejesus out of me.” Her hand over her heart. He was leaning against the doorframe, holding his jacket that he had slung over his shoulder.
“Sorry, Mary. I didn’t mean to. It’s just that I see you’re having some trouble getting more produce.”
“Tell me about it. Four contacts and nothing.” She gestured to the clubhouse. “Look at it out there. We weren’t expecting so many people and we’re sinking faster than the Titanic.”
“Don’t worry about it, I got it.”
To that statement, Mary perked up. “What’d you mean?”
“My boy in Jersey is headed over. Fresh produce is on the way as we speak.”
Mary hung up the phone. “You’re a godsend.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. Just helping out.”
“Well, I appreciate it. You don’t know what this means. When do you think he’ll be here?”
James shrugged. “Within the hour, I’m sure.”
“Perfect.” Mary stood up. “Please let me know when he gets here.”
“One hundred percent. What do you need me to do in the meantime?”
“Help Larry.” She rolled her eyes. “Please help Larry.”
“You got it.”
He went to leave, but Mary called him back. “Thank you again.”
James smiled. “Don’t mention it.” He went to leave, then stopped. “You’re welcome,” he said, pointing at her, then went to help Larry and the rest of the volunteers’ packing boxes in the kitchen, rolling his sleeves up when he shook Larry’s hand.
Mary was grateful for his contribution. James had started volunteering a year ago and had been a mainstay ever since. Most volunteers only lasted a month or two, but James seemed like a good guy, and she hoped he would stay for a long time. The kid had connections and could come through in a pinch.
“Kid,” Mary scoffed. “He’s got to be close to thirty. Only old ladies like me would call a full-grown man a kid.”
Plus, he had a kind nature that Mary thought was intriguing, especially for a younger man. She had to admit she was smitten with James, plus, he had the look she always found intriguing.
Olive skin, dark hair and chestnut eyes.
She had always been smitten with Italians.
