Chapter 18

Friday February 27, 2015

“Frankie, wake up the kid. His snoring is getting on my nerves and anyway we’ve waited around long enough. It’s almost midnight and it’s time to go. I’m tired of sitting around and damn it’s cold. I thought California was supposed to be warm.”

Donatello Ferretti, Frankie Carlucci and Ronny Santorini sat in the five year-old Buick and watched Three Corners Farm from a gravel pull-off across the road. There had been no traffic for at least an hour.

“Should I try to call Carlos again?”

“To hell with him. He’s not around - he doesn’t get the rest of his money. He had the car and the rest of the stuff at the airport so I really don’t give a shit whether he’s here or not.”

“Yeah, but he said he’d be here keeping an eye on the place, and he called a couple of hours ago to say he was here.”

“Look Frankie, he’s probably out drinking or snorting the money he got already, and maybe he got squeamish all of a sudden.”

“You could be right Mr. Ferretti, although he never got squeamish before.”

“Frankie, how long since you saw him?”

“Five years, give or take. But he did come through with the stuff for us - just seems a little funny.”

“Doesn’t matter. When he called he said the bitch was here. That’s all that matters. It’s past time to make her pay. Nobody steals from me and no one sues me and gets away with it. She owes me the three million and for years of aggravation, and tonight I’m going to have fun making her pay.”

“He sounded kinda funny when he called though...”

“Drop it Frankie. He was probably stoned or drunk and he’s somewhere close by sleeping it off. He’s just one more loose end we don’t have to take care of anyway.”

“Okay, Mr. Ferretti.”

“Frankie, you think Ronny is up for this?”

“Sure, he’s a good kid and he’ll do what we tell him. I’ve seen him kick down a door, and that bitch won’t even be awake before we’re inside.”

“What about the other houses?”

“I talked to Carlos after he first came out here a couple days ago to have a look and he said there was a family living in the brick house and two hot looking women living in the house in the back.”

“Do you think we’ll have any trouble with any of them?”

“I asked Carlos about that when we talked a couple of hours ago. He said there was no sign of the family in the brick house, maybe they were gone for the weekend, and he didn’t know about the two in the house out back. When you’re having round one with your little runaway friend, Ronny and I thought we’d take a little stroll over there and maybe get lucky.”

Even in the darkened car Ferretti could see his feral smile. Ferretti knew Frankie was a sociopath, probably bordering on psychopathic where it came to women. He also knew when he was done with Brice he would give her to Frankie and he would take his time killing her. Ferretti decided he wouldn’t stay around to watch. It occurred to him that perhaps it was time to dispense with Frankie’s services.

Frankie reached over from the front seat and poked the big man who was asleep in the back slumped against the door, “Come on Ronny, wake up - time to get this show on the road.”

Ronny yawned and stretched but didn’t say anything as they got out of the car and moved to the trunk. He was well over six feet tall and over two hundred fifty pounds. Ferretti used him to intimidate and occasionally break some bones. He’d served some time for assault, including a six month stretch in the county lockup for battering his ex-girlfriend into the hospital.

Frankie had previously removed the lightbulb from inside the trunk so he worked by the light of a single penlight, which he held in his mouth. He removed a silenced pistol from a nylon duffle, expertly checked it and handed it to Ferretti. He did the same for Ronny and finally took one for himself. With the silencers attached the pistols were too long for their pockets so they were stuck in their belts and hidden by the nylon windbreakers each wore.

Ferretti thought the guns were an unnecessary expense, but had finally given in to Frankie’s arguments that you never knew when a curious cop or someone else might stop by.

Ronny seemed delighted and spent some time adjusting his pistol.

Removing the small light from his mouth Frankie laughed, “Watch out Ronny, don’t want to shoot something important off!”

Ronny just smiled at him, like a kid with a new toy.

Frankie then took out another nylon duffle which contained restraints of various kinds, including handcuffs. He pointed into the trunk. “Ronny, grab those gas cans.”

Without another word, the trio moved across the blacktop road toward the driveway leading to Three Corners Farm. There was just enough light from a quarter moon that they could see the drive and their destination, the apartment over the garage. Ferretti’s heart beat faster with anticipation. He’d been looking forward to teaching Kate Brice a lesson for a long time. Maybe he would hang around to watch Frankie with her after all.

The only sound was their shoes crunching on the gravel as they walked abreast down the long drive, guided by the small light over the side entrance to the brick house on the right of the parking area. As they got closer they noticed a white truck parked outside the doors to the garage. A quick glance into the bed showed only what looked like some plastic tarps covering some kind of load.

When they reached the breezeway Ferretti whispered to Ronny, “Set those down over there.” He pointed to the concrete porch outside the door to the brick house. “And then get that light out.” He looked up at the stairs thinking it was stupid not to have a light on at the top of those narrow-looking steps. Maybe it was burnt out or on a sensor.

He heard Ronnie set the gas cans on the porch and then the porch light went out. Simultaneously with the light going out he heard what sounded like a cough and he heard Ronny grunt and then fall. He turned quickly and said in a low growl, “Get up you clumsy oaf.”

Ferretti was puzzled when the big man didn’t immediately get back to his feet, but didn’t have time to figure it out before he heard Frankie say, “What the...” Puzzled, he turned to look at Frankie who was pulling his gun out of his waistband. Then he heard another cough, and to his surprise he watched Frankie’s head snap back. He fell backwards, his body hitting the wood railing just behind him. He ended up on his side unmoving on the gravel path.

Ferretti hadn’t done his own dirty work in years and was slow to recognize the threat from the darkness. As he struggled to get his own gun free the silencer hung up on his belt. He watched in horror as a big Slavic-looking man dressed in black stepped out of the darkness and pointed a silenced pistol at his head. “Wait...”

That was Donatello Ferretti’s last word.

From the front of the garage a truck engine started and the battered white pickup backed to the breezeway. Tomás got out leaving the engine running and moved to open the tailgate. Dmitri helped him remove the tarp revealing the body of a heavily–built older Latino whose exposed arms were covered with crude prison tattoos. Without a word, the two worked to move the three additional bodies into the back of the pickup. While Tomás disappeared into the darkness for a few minutes, Dmitri checked the ground for any trace of the shooting. A motor started and soon he reappeared driving a bucket loader, the bucket filled with compost and pruned grape vines. It took three loads, but soon the bodies were well covered and the tarp replaced.

The two men shook hands and Dmitri simply said, “Gracias Tomás.”

Without another word they rode in the pickup out to the highway where Dmitri got out and walked to the Buick that was parked there. The keys were in the ignition. Soon the nondescript Buick followed the unremarkable white Ford truck out of town toward the mountains.

Saturday February 28, 2015

Mark Hopkins Hotel

Natalie, dressed in a plush robe provided by the hotel, sipped her coffee and looked at the amazing early-morning view from their suite at the Mark Hopkins Hotel in downtown San Francisco. She turned to Jessica, who was similarly dressed and sitting at the dining table reading the paper while she nibbled on a pastry and drank her tea. “So are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“I thought that was obvious, just a girls’ weekend in San Francisco.”

Natalie held her gaze for a few seconds. “Jessica, you know that’s not what I mean. I know what we’re doing here, but not why this weekend. Yesterday while I was running around crazy - caused by you by the way - trying to change reservations and coordinate four people’s schedules at the last minute, to change everything from next weekend to this weekend, you promised you’d explain.”

Expressionless, Jessica only looked at her.

“On top of that, on the ride to San Francisco in the limo you hardly said a word and never finished your champagne, and since we’ve been here you’ve been jumpy as a cat. Last night at dinner you kept looking at the door and you drank maybe half a glass of wine and hardly touched your meal. At the club afterwards you didn’t drink at all and maybe danced two times and even then you took your clutch with you. I sneaked a look and I wondered what had you so spooked that you were carrying your thirty-eight snubby. You owe me an explanation.”

Jessica looked at her friend and sighed. “Okay, but stop pacing like a caged tiger; you’re making me nervous and blocking the view. Come sit down.”

Natalie poured more coffee from the silver carafe and then took a seat across from her friend. “Okay, happy now?”

Jessica smiled. “As you probably remember a few weeks ago we were in Chicago, and while you were gallivanting around with your boyfriend I was tied up at the law firm each day.”

“Wait, this change of schedule has something to do with Chicago?”

“Yes, I was getting to that.”

“And you never complained about my gallivanting.”

“No, and I’m not now, but maybe you’d like to hear the rest?”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Anyway, it turns out that the airline holding company I was suing - am suing - over the death of my parents, turned out to have some serious mob connections...”

“What?”

“Can I finish?”

“Okay.”

“The Ryan Firm got hacked recently and it appeared the only information the hackers were looking for pertained to me, like where I lived.”

“Damn!”

“Yeah. So yesterday morning I got a call from Carolyn Kensworth that it would be a good idea to get out of town for a few days.”

“Do you think they’d do something?”

“Well, the Ryan people took it pretty seriously.”

“But we can’t stay away indefinitely.”

“I agree.”

“So, what’s going to happen?”

“David Ryan is pretty influential and he’s put the word out that nothing better happen to me and mine. He’s going to try and negotiate a settlement.”

“And until then?”

“Dmitri.”

Natalie looked startled for a few seconds. “Dmitri’s coming here? Aleja and Rashmi will be thrilled, and if we need a protector he gets my vote. So when’s he arrive?”

“He’s already here. He got in late last night, and as soon as he gets some rest he’ll come out to the hotel. We can finish our weekend with Dmitri keeping watch and I’m sure by tomorrow night we’ll be able to go home.”

“So that was the late night call on your phone I heard – Dmitri checking in?”

“Yes.”

“That was one in the morning. He must have got to Sacramento really late. Was his plane delayed?”

“No...” Jessica paused. “He decided to stop by the farm first, to see if things were okay.”

“And were things okay?”

“Apparently so,” she said without emotion.

“And you were going to tell me all this when?”

“Well I figured I’d let you have some coffee and some breakfast first, but as usual your brain works better than mine in the morning.”

“No denying that. What about Aleja and Keri? How are you going to handle the explanation with them?”

“I’m not sure. You told them what I told you – that there’d been a sudden change of plans and to fit everyone’s schedules we had to go this weekend. I’d be willing to go with that story, except Dmitri showing up kind of puts a different spin on things doesn’t it? His unannounced arrival pretty much calls for an explanation – other than he was pining away for Aleja.”

“That’s true. Aleja would definitely know something was up with Dmitri’s unexpected arrival.”

“So, I don’t have much choice but to explain the same way I did to you. I’m dealing with some nasty people from Chicago who now know where I live. Once Aleja and Keri get out of bed and wander in here from the other suite I’ll give them an update.”

Natalie took a sip of her coffee and considered the situation. “Jessica, I know you want to make those bastards pay for what happened to your parents, but don’t you think that perhaps it’s not worth it? Would you consider just dropping the case? I understand it’s not just about the money and this is what Jacob would do, but what should Jessica Brandt do? Even with David Ryan and Dmitri, how long are you willing to keep looking over your shoulder, and maybe even have to worry about the people close to you?” She tried to smile. “I’d be pretty unhappy if something happened to you, or any of us.”

Jessica’s expression turned serious. “Natalie, thank you, I think that’s just what I’ll do. Maybe it’s time to put this away and just get on with my life.”

Jessica sat in a front row seat on board the fast passenger ferry carrying them on the thirty-minute trip from San Francisco’s Embarcadero to the town of Sausalito across the Bay. Dmitri was with them. Natalie had made lunch reservations for them in a well-known waterfront restaurant. They were all dressed casually and in layers because after lunch they would be picked up by a chauffeured SUV and taken to Vista Point, which was part of the Golden Gate National Park at the north end of the Bridge for a tour and a short hike.