“Ricky, we don’t got a lotta time,” Cal said instead of answering.
Benny pushed off and moved a foot away so Ricky could turn to face them, back still to the brick wall of the alley.
Ricky’s eyebrows went up. “You two workin’ for Sal?”
“Cal asked you a question, Ricky. We don’t got a lotta time.” Benny reminded him.
Ricky’s eyes went to Benny. “Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout Hart.”
Benny looked at Cal. Cal caught his eye and then looked at Ricky. Then he moved, dipping low, he caught Ricky with an upper cut to his kidneys. Ricky’s arms went around his belly, he bent forward and coughed.
After doing this for thirty seconds, his head shot back and he wheezed, “What the f**k!”
“Where would Hart go on the run?” Cal asked.
“Hart’s a crazy motherfucker. Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout him, don’t wanna know nothin’ ‘bout him,” Ricky answered and Benny moved in, hand wrapping around Ricky’s throat, pinning him to the brick wall.
“It’s your business,” Benny reminded him, “Mr. Information. You know everything about everyone.”
“Don’t know about Hart,” Ricky rasped, his fingers curling around Benny’s forearm.
“We don’t got time to deal. You sell information. Today, you’re buyin’ it with your health,” Benny informed him.
“Ben,” Ricky choked, “you know Hart. I got in his business, he’d get in mine. Don’t need that shit. I steer clear.”
“You got to have heard somethin’,” Cal told him and Ricky’s eyes came to Cal.
“I hear it, I forget it, I stay breathin’,” Ricky’s voice sounded strangled and he was tearing at Benny’s forearm with his fingernails.
“What’d you forget?” Benny asked, leaning in close and Ricky gagged. “What’d you forget!” Benny shouted in his face.
“Ben, boy can’t talk if you choke him to death,” Cal said quietly, Benny looked over his shoulder at Cal and stepped back.
Benny’s phone rang and since it was in Cal’s back pocket, Cal pulled it out, looked at the display and his brows snapped together. He flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Yo,” he said.
“Collect call from Francesca Concetti. Will you accept the charges?” an operator asked.
“Yes,” Cal clipped, his eyes sliced to Benny and he mouthed, “Frankie.”
Benny’s back went straight.
“Ben?” Francesca whispered.
“Frankie?”
“Oh Jesus,” she was still whispering, “Cal?”
“Frankie where the f**k are you?”
“Boathouse –” she started then he heard Vi, her voice tight, high, something weird in it.
“Is that Joe?”
“Yeah,” Frankie whispered.
“Give it to me,” Cal heard Vi demand and then he heard a tussle. Finally, Vi came on the phone. “Joe?”
“Baby, where are you?”
“Joe!” she squealed.
“Jesus, Violet, keep it down,” he heard Frankie hiss.
“Oh Joe, Jesus, honey, oh God,” Vi whispered then he heard a tortured sob.
“Buddy, hold it together and tell me where you –” he stopped talking when he heard the phone moving around and then he was back to Frankie.
“Hart told her you were dead,” Frankie explained and Cal clenched his teeth because this was a cruel thing to do to anyone, especially Vi; because he could still hear Violet’s sobs; because he was getting no information; and lastly because they were on the phone but it sounded like they were unsafe.
“I’m alive. Where are you?”
“He took us to a boathouse. North. We’re on the lake. We climbed out the window, went through the trees and broke into another house,” Frankie answered.
“Hart’s not there?”
“No, he’s –” she was cut off by Vi.
“Let me talk to him.”
“Girl, we gotta –”
“Frankie,” Cal cut in, “stay on the line.”
“Let me talk to him!” Vi demanded.
“Shit,” Frankie muttered then he heard a faraway, “here.”
Cal’s teeth were still clenched and he was glaring at Benny who still had Ricky against the wall with a loose hold at his throat but his eyes were locked on Cal.
“Joe –” Vi began.
“Honey, I know you’re freaked but you gotta give the phone back to Frankie,” Cal told her.
“Why?” Violet asked.
“Because she’s got her shit together and she can lead me to you.”
“But I know exactly where we are. Dad had a boat up here. We’re –”
He heard Frankie cut in. “Violet, I hear somethin’.”
“Where are you?” Cal asked urgently.
“Oh God, they’re here,” Violet whispered.
“Violet, God dammit, where are you?” Cal shouted but the line was dead. “Jesus f**king Christ!” Cal roared, snapped the phone shut, got into Benny’s space to shove him aside and wrapped his hand around Ricky’s throat. “Where’s Hart’s boathouse?”
Ricky’s eyes were bugging out and his hand came up to claw at Cal’s arm but he managed to gag, “Boathouse?”
“Boathouse!” Cal barked in face.
“Don’t know. Swear to God… don’t –” he stopped speaking and started full on gagging, Cal released him and stepped back.
He flipped the phone back open and dialed home. Colt answered on the first ring.
“Colton.”
“Colt, ask Kate what her grandfather’s phone number is.” Cal ordered.
“Sorry?” Colt asked.
“I don’t have a lotta time. Ask Kate what Vi’s father’s phone number is.”
“Hang on,” Colt said and then Cal heard him calling Kate and the phone was jostled.
“Joe?” It was Kate saying his name, his second favorite way of hearing it.
“Hey Katy,” he said softly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Mom?” she asked, her voice tense.
“Gettin’ there,” he replied vaguely. “Now listen to me. I need your grandfather’s phone number.”
“I’ll go get my phone,” she said quickly.
So Kate. She didn’t ask questions. She wasn’t messing around. She knew he needed something and she was getting down to business.
Benny pushed off and moved a foot away so Ricky could turn to face them, back still to the brick wall of the alley.
Ricky’s eyebrows went up. “You two workin’ for Sal?”
“Cal asked you a question, Ricky. We don’t got a lotta time.” Benny reminded him.
Ricky’s eyes went to Benny. “Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout Hart.”
Benny looked at Cal. Cal caught his eye and then looked at Ricky. Then he moved, dipping low, he caught Ricky with an upper cut to his kidneys. Ricky’s arms went around his belly, he bent forward and coughed.
After doing this for thirty seconds, his head shot back and he wheezed, “What the f**k!”
“Where would Hart go on the run?” Cal asked.
“Hart’s a crazy motherfucker. Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout him, don’t wanna know nothin’ ‘bout him,” Ricky answered and Benny moved in, hand wrapping around Ricky’s throat, pinning him to the brick wall.
“It’s your business,” Benny reminded him, “Mr. Information. You know everything about everyone.”
“Don’t know about Hart,” Ricky rasped, his fingers curling around Benny’s forearm.
“We don’t got time to deal. You sell information. Today, you’re buyin’ it with your health,” Benny informed him.
“Ben,” Ricky choked, “you know Hart. I got in his business, he’d get in mine. Don’t need that shit. I steer clear.”
“You got to have heard somethin’,” Cal told him and Ricky’s eyes came to Cal.
“I hear it, I forget it, I stay breathin’,” Ricky’s voice sounded strangled and he was tearing at Benny’s forearm with his fingernails.
“What’d you forget?” Benny asked, leaning in close and Ricky gagged. “What’d you forget!” Benny shouted in his face.
“Ben, boy can’t talk if you choke him to death,” Cal said quietly, Benny looked over his shoulder at Cal and stepped back.
Benny’s phone rang and since it was in Cal’s back pocket, Cal pulled it out, looked at the display and his brows snapped together. He flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Yo,” he said.
“Collect call from Francesca Concetti. Will you accept the charges?” an operator asked.
“Yes,” Cal clipped, his eyes sliced to Benny and he mouthed, “Frankie.”
Benny’s back went straight.
“Ben?” Francesca whispered.
“Frankie?”
“Oh Jesus,” she was still whispering, “Cal?”
“Frankie where the f**k are you?”
“Boathouse –” she started then he heard Vi, her voice tight, high, something weird in it.
“Is that Joe?”
“Yeah,” Frankie whispered.
“Give it to me,” Cal heard Vi demand and then he heard a tussle. Finally, Vi came on the phone. “Joe?”
“Baby, where are you?”
“Joe!” she squealed.
“Jesus, Violet, keep it down,” he heard Frankie hiss.
“Oh Joe, Jesus, honey, oh God,” Vi whispered then he heard a tortured sob.
“Buddy, hold it together and tell me where you –” he stopped talking when he heard the phone moving around and then he was back to Frankie.
“Hart told her you were dead,” Frankie explained and Cal clenched his teeth because this was a cruel thing to do to anyone, especially Vi; because he could still hear Violet’s sobs; because he was getting no information; and lastly because they were on the phone but it sounded like they were unsafe.
“I’m alive. Where are you?”
“He took us to a boathouse. North. We’re on the lake. We climbed out the window, went through the trees and broke into another house,” Frankie answered.
“Hart’s not there?”
“No, he’s –” she was cut off by Vi.
“Let me talk to him.”
“Girl, we gotta –”
“Frankie,” Cal cut in, “stay on the line.”
“Let me talk to him!” Vi demanded.
“Shit,” Frankie muttered then he heard a faraway, “here.”
Cal’s teeth were still clenched and he was glaring at Benny who still had Ricky against the wall with a loose hold at his throat but his eyes were locked on Cal.
“Joe –” Vi began.
“Honey, I know you’re freaked but you gotta give the phone back to Frankie,” Cal told her.
“Why?” Violet asked.
“Because she’s got her shit together and she can lead me to you.”
“But I know exactly where we are. Dad had a boat up here. We’re –”
He heard Frankie cut in. “Violet, I hear somethin’.”
“Where are you?” Cal asked urgently.
“Oh God, they’re here,” Violet whispered.
“Violet, God dammit, where are you?” Cal shouted but the line was dead. “Jesus f**king Christ!” Cal roared, snapped the phone shut, got into Benny’s space to shove him aside and wrapped his hand around Ricky’s throat. “Where’s Hart’s boathouse?”
Ricky’s eyes were bugging out and his hand came up to claw at Cal’s arm but he managed to gag, “Boathouse?”
“Boathouse!” Cal barked in face.
“Don’t know. Swear to God… don’t –” he stopped speaking and started full on gagging, Cal released him and stepped back.
He flipped the phone back open and dialed home. Colt answered on the first ring.
“Colton.”
“Colt, ask Kate what her grandfather’s phone number is.” Cal ordered.
“Sorry?” Colt asked.
“I don’t have a lotta time. Ask Kate what Vi’s father’s phone number is.”
“Hang on,” Colt said and then Cal heard him calling Kate and the phone was jostled.
“Joe?” It was Kate saying his name, his second favorite way of hearing it.
“Hey Katy,” he said softly.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Mom?” she asked, her voice tense.
“Gettin’ there,” he replied vaguely. “Now listen to me. I need your grandfather’s phone number.”
“I’ll go get my phone,” she said quickly.
So Kate. She didn’t ask questions. She wasn’t messing around. She knew he needed something and she was getting down to business.
