“All right. How will I know when he’s coming down?”
“I’ll open the shades.”
Liam gets back in his car and watches the apartment.
Doesn’t know if he can trust this Alex to do what he’s told.
It hadn’t been that hard to find the guy; there are only so many gay bars in Rhode Island, so it had taken him just a few stops to find the joint in Westerly where people recognized Sal by his description.
Then it was just a matter of finding a gay hooker who could use some extra cash and was good-looking enough to attract Sal.
That was this Alex.
“I’m going to take off,” Sal says.
“You don’t have to,” Alex says.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Are you going to come back?” Alex asks.
“Do you want me to?”
“That’s why I asked,” Alex says. “Yes.”
“Then I’ll come back.”
Alex kisses him.
Sal goes down the stairs.
Alex opens the blinds.
Liam rests the rifle on the open passenger window and waits.
His hands shake.
Don’t be a coward, he tells himself. Don’t be what they say you are. Do this for your brother.
He sees Sal come out the door and aims at his chest.
Swallowing hard, Liam pulls the trigger.
Sal sits down and leans against the wall. He’s very tired all of a sudden, like his legs don’t want to carry him no more.
He feels the front of his shirt, hot and wet.
Lifts his hand and sees it’s soaked with blood.
Thinks . . .
Holy Mary, Mother of God
Pray for us sinners
Now and at the hour of our—
Danny is bending over the vending machine in the hospital, trying to decide between the chocolate chip cookies and a Hershey’s bar, when Jimmy Mac walks up behind him.
“Did you hear the news?” Jimmy asks.
“What news?”
“Sal Antonucci.” Jimmy draws a finger across his throat.
“Jesus,” Danny says. “When? Who?”
Jimmy shrugs. “Down in Westerly. He was coming out of an apartment building and someone popped him from across the street.”
This could change everything, Danny thinks. Without Sal in the game, Peter might be willing to negotiate a peace. He might even just back off and settle for the status quo. Or he could go the other way with it, and hit back for Sal.
“Tell everyone to keep their heads down,” Danny says. “Stay off the streets for a while.”
“You too, Danny.”
“They’re not going to hit me in the hospital,” Danny says.
“The parking lot, though,” Jimmy says. “Ned will be out there. Give my love to Terri. Angie sends hers, too.”
“I will.”
Danny decides he’s not hungry and goes up to Terri’s room. They’ve given her a sedative, so she’s pretty out of it.
“Did you get something to eat?” Terri asks.
“Yeah.”
“How’s Ian?”
“With Cassie, so he’s great.”
“I’m scared, Danny.”
“I know,” Danny says. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Because what else is he going to say?
“You’re the luckiest chiacchierone I’ve ever seen,” Chris says to Frankie. “You know Peter was ready to punch your ticket.”
“Was I right or was I right?” Frankie asks. “Let me ask you this—where was Sal when he got it? Leaving a fag’s apartment. Case closed.”
Alex is in the trunk of the car Chris is driving. He was smart enough to leave his place but not smart enough to leave the area. Chris and Frankie found him in the parking lot of the same gay bar where Sal had picked him up.
They’re taking him to an isolated spot by an old quarry to have a conversation. Chris pulls off the highway onto a country road.
Chris is right, Frankie thinks. Whoever clipped Sal did me a big favor. Reshuffled the whole deck and now Peter is going to have to give me a new deal. I just have to play the cards right. Nice, though, that Peter was willing to have me whacked to protect a finook. This thing of ours isn’t what it used to be.
Chris pulls off the side of the dirt road, next to the quarry. Tall reeds wave in the breeze between them and the water. They get out of the car, take Alex out of the trunk and rip the duct tape off his mouth.
“You yell, I put a bullet in you,” Chris tells him, showing the gun. “No one is going to hurt you, we just want to ask a few questions.”