Page 69 of Sal Gabrini: Man on Fire

But when he chopped his way through the final thickets of underbrush, he made it to the back street. And that was when he saw Jovie, running toward a waiting car. Sal, never known for his athleticism, showed athleticism that day and began running with all he had to catch up to the slower Jovie. Robby, the fastest of them all, was right behind Sal, running too, and Mick was behind Robby. But it was Sal who caught up to that car just as Jovie jumped into it. Sal grabbed the passenger door Jovie was trying to close and held on for dear life as Mick stopped running and positioned himself for the kill shot. He didn’t shoot at Jovie. That would have risked Sal. But he shot the driver, right in the back of his head, just as he was flooring that gas petal and speeding away so fast that it caused the passenger door to swing wildly. Sal lost his grip and was flung away from the car. He rolled and rolled on the ground, but was otherwise okay. Jovie then grabbed the door and slammed it shut.

But that was when he realized his driver had been incapacitated with a bullet through the back of his head. He was slumped over the steering wheel with his feet still wedged downward like a death grip on the accelerator petal. They were flying down the street faster and faster, and they weren’t going straight ahead, but was heading offroad toward more treacherous woods.

Jovie tried with all he had to move over his driver and take control of the steering wheel, but even as he grabbed the wheel, the speeding car was already too out of control to be corrected. It lost traction and began flipping. The last time it flipped, it slammed into a massive tree trunk and burst into flames.

Sal, Robby, and Mick all had to turn their bodies away from the flying debris. And then all three ran as close to that burning car as they could get, to ensure that motherfucker didn’t get away.

They could only see images and they saw his image inside, slumped over his driver. There was no getting away from that.

Sal was flustered. He looked at his uncle as if he was searching for answers neither one of them could have. Or maybe he was just tired of the carnage.

But he also knew the only way out was if he was six feet under.

“Can you believe this shit?” Sal said to Mick. “I got to deal with the Feds too? And why would they target Gemma?”

“Ifit is the Feds,” said Robby.

“Right,” agreed Sal. “But why would the Feds target Gemma?”

“Maybe because she’s a lawyer,” said Mick. “Maybe because she’s defended too many mobsters. There was one time in her career every client she had was mob. Maybe they figured they could turn her against you. Who the fuck knows?”

“But if Jovie’s not the one who planted that bomb and ordered Markie to try that shit in California and ordered that ambush at your house and at the safe house, and if it’s not the Feds who ordered all of that, then who is it?” asked Robby.

Sal looked at Mick. “Who told you it was Jovie to begin with? When I met with you on your plane, you told me to check out Jovie. Why? Who told you it was Jovie?”

“Dom did the leg work.”

“Dommi?” asked Sal. Then a thought occurred to him. “What if he was lying too?” asked Sal.

“He wouldn’t dare,” said Mick.

“But what if he is? His ass done it before! What if he’s double-crossing us again?”

And when Sal said those words, they didn’t hesitate. Mick and Sal, with Robby right alongside them, took off running.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Reno and Gemma arrived at Reno’s hotel and made their way upstairs to Mason’s suite. Elsie, Mason’s assistant, opened the door for them and they saw Mason lounging in the living room, as if his impending arrest was no big deal whatsoever to him. But Kidd Curry had always been that way for as long as Reno had to deal with him and his obnoxious clients. He never took anything seriously. Not even an ironclad contract.

“What you lounging around for, Kidd?” Reno asked him as soon as they walked in. “Your ass ready or what?”

“Well damn, Reno,” said Mason. “Can’t I at least confer with my attorney first?”

“In the car,” said Gemma. “We’ll talk in the car.”

“What’s all the rush?” Mason said as he stood up and began putting on his suit coat. “Sal Gabrini got you on the clock?”

“No, we got your ass on the clock,” said Reno. “Just let’s do this. Nobody wanna be bothered with your slick ass no longer than we need to.”

Mason laughed. “Same ol’ Reno,” he said as she walked toward the door. “Will you ever change?”

Reno didn’t skip a beat. “Will you?”

“Hell no,” said Mason as he walked out of the door.

“There ya’ go,” said Reno, as if he answered the question exactly as Reno would have answered it, and then he held the door for Trina and Elsie.

But when they got downstairs, Mason wanted the last word again. He began heading for his limo.

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