Over the street a couple of kids are out in their front yard, tossing a basketball around. I watch them for a moment before moving on. I should leave. A place like this doesn’t need the trouble I bring with me.
I turn the corner and there’s an empty patch of nothing for a while. It’s like there were houses here or maybe a factory once, but it’s gone now.
A piece of asphalt curves off the road but just stops at the edge of the grass. New trees are growing but not in any kind of design like the seeds got to work, and no one bothered to cut them back.
I walk on, wondering if this road goes anywhere. On both sides there’s just grass now. I can hear the sea in front of me.
The road is curving down and I reckon this is maybe a back way to the warehouses on the dock. The road is narrow, only big enough for one vehicle at a time. Doesn’t look like it’s used much.
That’s why the car stands out. It’s sitting there in the middle of the road, blocking it. I look closer and mutter to myself. “Son of a bitch.”
I know that car. It’s the one that stopped outside the animal shelter five years back. I’d know that plate anywhere. I’m not likely to forget it. Jet black and still with that ‘Got Pork?’ bumper sticker above the left sidelights.
I get a bad feeling about it. Why’s it there? Someone put it there for a reason.
Two options hit my mind at once. The first is it belongs to the snitch, and he’s complacent. Complacent and nearby. I need to look to see if there’s a house here.
Option two is this is a setup. Put there deliberately to guide me straight into a trap.
Only one way to find out which option is right.
I walk forward, looking from left to right. Behind the trees is a house that looks on the verge of falling down. The wooden walls are peeling like wilting flowers, curling on themselves.
A couple of sections have fallen completely, leaving gaps that look inside the darkened building. The roof is missing half its shingles. If anyone is living there, they aren’t exactly loaded with money.
I cross the grass silently, pulling out my gun as I go. I move from tree to tree. Are they watching out for me? Any moment there might be the slam of a bullet into my gut. Nothing I can do if it happens.
Suddenly I think of Amelia. I shake her out of my head. Now is not the time to be going all gooey-eyed. I got shit to do.
The house is ten yards away now. I look through the grime covered windows, but I can see nothing. I cross to the porch and take the steps up.
They creak under my weight but hold up without snapping. The screen door is hanging off its hinges. I kick it aside and step into the interior.
I get the chance to take a single breath and glance to my right into the lounge before a wire is whipped over my throat. The lounge has been set up for an interrogation. Table, pliers, ropes. Saw. Not good. I need this wire off my throat before they get me bound on that table.
At once I’m gagging for breath. Whoever’s holding the wire has a good grip, but they’re not as strong as me. I lash back with my head and break their nose. A second later, I bring my foot up between their legs.
I’m rewarded with a grunt and the wire slackens enough for me to take a gasping breath. I spin on the spot, bringing my gun upward. I slam the butt of it into the guy’s face.
He’s already falling from the hit to his nuts, so I follow up with a knee to his head and then he falls onto his side, not moving.
I recognize one of the Belucci family. Benny. I watched him grow up, fought him more than once before. Now he’s out cold after trying to kill me. Fuck, the Belucci famiglia is on to me.
“Anyone else in here?” I ask, kicking him in the side. Still no movement.
I sweep the house. Nothing in the lounge. The place stinks of rot. My nose wrinkles as I go upstairs. Nothing. Just one. That was dumb. Don’t they know who I am?
Sending one guy after me is the kind of mistake that doesn’t get forgiven. Time to put a bullet in Benny’s head, after I get him to talk, that is. Use the table on him.
I head downstairs, but I’m dumb. He wasn’t as out of it as I thought. He’s on his feet and staggering outside, trying to run. I go after him.
He pulls out a gun and turns to face me, tripping backward in his panic. He pulls the trigger as he falls, but the bullet goes straight up into the air.
I hear a noise from the road and glance that way. The sheriff’s car is stopping. “Freeze,” the sheriff yells.
Benny is turning his pistol my way, sneering with bitter fury at me. “Say goodbye, Leo,” he says, squeezing the trigger.
There’s a bang and I expect to fly backward, but nothing happens. I look down and Benny is dead, blood pooling underneath him.
“Goodbye,” I say as I glance across at the sheriff. He’s running over, his gun pulled out.
“Who was he?” Louie asks. “One of your friends?”
I shake my head. “He tried to kill me.” I show him the wire mark across my neck.
“You know him.”
“Nope,” I lie.
Louie lowers his voice. “I can keep this off the radar if you help me get rid of the body,” he says, leaning toward me. “But I’ll have to get an alibi off you in case anyone comes asking.”
I nod, putting my gun away. “I was at Amelia’s all day.”
“She’ll vouch for you?”
“If I ask her to, she will.”
“Good to know. You got a car?”
“Back in town.”
“Then I guess maybe there’s an arson attack on this place and you saw the smoke and came looking, right?”
Together we drag the body back into the house. Louie looks around before we leave.
“Used to be a nice place this,” he says, striking a match and leaning down toward the bottom of the ragged curtains. “Bobby Belucci owned it but after he died it just sat here empty. How do I explain the body if it survives the fire?”
“A hobo set up camp here and got dead drunk, lit a fire to keep warm, but it got out of control.”
He grins. “You did this before. No, don’t tell me. I don’t need to know. Be sure to tell the Don I helped you.” He sees my frown and nods.
“Been on his payroll for a while,” he continues. “Although he keeps thinking I’m working for the Belucci family. Maybe now, he’ll start trusting me. Go get that alibi sorted with Amelia. I’ve got a fire department to call.”
Smoke is rising from the roof of the house as I walk away without looking back. Benny Belucci came out here to kill me. Question is, who told him I was here?