The Bounty Hunters: The Marino Bros.: Box Set (102 page)

Andreas felt his gut twist into a knot. He hated these kinds of stories. They always brought it all back. They always made him want to jump right back in to police work. But his family was growing and needed to be kept far away from the vile crimes he dealt with in his past when he had been working vice and sex crimes in New York.

But, like always, he’d call his contacts tomorrow and see if he could find out what the connection was between the two victims. He’d never stop looking for Romeo. The one who got away. Until Salvatore Mazzelli was caught, Andreas would never rest. Until the Rosedale Romeo was rotting behind bars, or burning in hell, he would always check with his contacts to see if he had reemerged.

Sighing, he flicked off the television and although tired, faded off into a restless sleep. One filled with his worst nightmare.

The Nightmare

“A
ndreas, man! Head
to your parents’ place. Stat.”

The voice on the phone was his partner’s. The tone told him it was serious. “What’s the matter, Ricky?” he barked in return while slamming his foot on the gas pedal. Fear began to gnaw at him. Had something happened to his father? A heart attack?

“I’m sorry man. It’s your parents. I’m on my way too. Romeo got them!”

The squeal of wheels in his unmarked car rent the night air as he made a sharp turn at high speed. He was thirty minutes away. “What the fuck do you mean, got them?” He screamed into the phone. His heart was in his throat.

“Nikko called. He found them. Came home from a party late. I’m five minutes away. What’s your ETA?” He could hear the panic in his partner’s voice although he was trying to hide it.

Andreas felt a cold chill seep through him. Salvatore had struck. He had threatened it months ago. He knew it had to be the worst case scenario. The thought of Nikko discovering them, almost made him lose control of the car as a darkness enveloped him. The kid was just sixteen. “Fuck, fuck! Fuck!” The words coming out of his mouth didn’t even sound like him. It sounded like a wounded animal, and he had to get control of himself. Whatever it was, he needed to face it. Man the fuck up and face it for his brothers. He slammed his fists against the steering wheel. But despite his internal monologue, the pain that swept through him was piercing. No! His mind screamed in blinding pain. Not my parents! The tears threatened but he pushed them back. “Twenty minutes. I’ll be there in twenty,” he panted through his clenched jaw trying to get himself under control. He hated to do it, knew the answer before he asked, but he had to know, hear it. “Are they dead? Both of them?”

His partner let out a long drawn out breath. “Yeah, man. Both of them. I’m so fucking sorry, Andy.” Another long breath. “I’m turning down your block. I see Nikko. He looks okay. He’s with paramedics now.”

“Fuck, fuck!” came his garbled cry. He pressed the accelerator to the max, his lights flashing and his siren already blaring.

*     *     *

Fifteen minutes later,
his tires squealed on the pavement as he screeched to a stop in front of all of the other emergency vehicles. His sole thought during the drive was get to Nikko, and get the bastard who did this. He was going to put a bullet in Romeo’s brain. Salvatore got away once, but now it was personal.

Andreas flew out of his car, racing to Nikko. He could see him by the ambulance. “Nikko?” he called out to his sixteen year old brother. The vacant eyes of his youngest brother by nearly a decade swung towards him. They sparked, then faded, but then he, too, was running, breaking away from the paramedics. He flung himself at Andreas, the tears streaking down his ruddy face.

“They’re dead. So much blood. Andy, mom . . . and dad . . .”

Andreas held on to his brother with a steel grip. “I’ll get the bastard, I’ll get the bastard, I swear,” he promised to Nikko, and to himself.

“They’re gone, they’re gone,” he repeated hysterically crying into Andreas’ shirt.

Andreas blinked back the tears once more. He needed to hold it together . . . For Nikko. For him, Blaze, and Gio. They would all need him now.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Ricky Sylvester emerge from his parents’ front door. He was holding a handkerchief over his nose. He removed it, and wretched into his mother’s bushes. Bile rose in Andreas and threatened to come up. He needed to see them for himself. Grabbing a hold of Nikko’s shoulders, he pulled back and shook him until Nikko made eye contact. “Nikko, listen. I need you to go back to the ambulance with the paramedic. Stay put until I come get you. Got it.” Nikko’s expression showed confusion, dismay, despair. “Got it?” he repeated.

The paramedic, who had trailed after Nikko, gave Andreas a nod, and took Nikko from him, leading him back to the ambulance. “I’ll watch him personally until you come for him, Detective.”

Andreas gave the man a quick pat on the back, then placing one foot in front of the other began the walk to his house, past cop cars, ambulances, and other emergency personnel there to comb through the scene. As he made the trek, lights flashed all around him eerily lighting up the night and the street. He could make out neighbors huddled together on their stoops, news camera people snapping photos or setting up. His eyes roamed furtively although he walked with a purpose. Just in case. Just in case Romeo was in the crowd.

He placed one foot on the walkway when his partner saw him and rushed down the steps to greet him. “Andy don’t!” He stepped into his path.

“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My way!”

Shaking his head sadly, and pulling his handkerchief back over his nose, Ricky followed Andy back in. Even though he did not want to see this scene again, it was where he needed to be. By his partner’s side.

Andreas shut his eyes briefly, before taking the one step onto the stoop to enter the already open door. Someone had propped the screen door open so the investigators could come and go more easily. The smell hit him first. It was iron. It was strong. It was blood. And there was a lot of it. He felt dizzy for a moment. He’d seen a lot as a beat cop, and then this past year as a detective, but somehow he knew even before opening his eyes, that what he would see could destroy him.

He heard people whispering and opened his eyes. There were several men, and one woman already in the room. The flash of a camera startled him, and he looked in that direction first. A police woman was snapping pictures of the scene. The wall above the sofa was covered in blood. The words “beautiful no more” painted in blood across the entire wall. He looked down. He saw her first. His mother. Her hand was fisted and reached out towards the recliner. “He must have caught them sleeping.” He heard one detective say. “The male vic was shot, point blank range. Killed first.”

“That’s not his MO,” he heard his partner say.

“This was about revenge,” came the first on the scene detective’s voice, spoken softly as he recognized Andreas as the detective who had almost caught the man. He knew they were in his parent’s home.

Andreas recognized him too. Patrick Callaghan. A good cop.

“Sorry, Andy. He popped your dad, we are thinking, then your mom.” His eyes were sympathetic.

“Shot her?” Andreas asked. He could not believe the lack of emotion in his own voice.

“Yes.”

“Can I have a moment? Alone. I won’t touch anything.”

Callaghan nodded and all the officers silently made their way either outside or to the kitchen.

Andreas’ gaze swept to his father. He was still in his recliner. They had purchased it for him as a joke when he’d retired only last year. The hole in the center of his forehead was small. Romeo shot him. They must have been up waiting for Nikko and fallen asleep, he surmised. He took one step closer. The trail of blood from the entrance wound was drying on his father’s face. Black rivulets. It had to have happened hours ago. “Sorry, dad,” he murmured touching his father’s hand, just once more and noticed his father’s watch was missing. His throat tightened up. But he kept it together.

Then he turned. To see his mom. She was on the floor between the sofa and where the end table would have been. It was lying on its side against the entertainment center, the glass shattered. Her blouse was soaked in blood. Her abdomen exposed and open. He’d used her blood to leave his message. His mother’s eyes were still open, showing her fear at the end. It almost undid him. He knelt without touching the ground and shut her eyes. Peace. At least they died together. That would be his only solace. His only one.

A tear slipped from his cheek as he stood up, and he swiped it away. The Rosedale Romeo was going to pay. He would hunt Salvatore Mazzelli down until his dying day.

He took one more look at the wall. His mother’s blood smeared across it, across family photos, and memorized it. This image would haunt him all of his days. He looked closer. Small letters emerged out of the scrawl in the letter A in beautiful. He got closer. The words were personal. And meant only for him. They stated, “my gift to you”.

“I’m going to kill you, you bastard, if it’s the last fucking thing I do!” he screamed before turning away.

He was heading towards the door when a commotion outside got his attention. “Let me in. Fucking let me in, or I’ll kill you all.” It was Gio, and he was drunk. Andreas reached the door just as Gio peeked inside and got a full look of the interior with no one to obstruct his view. “Andy, fuck no! Not mom and dad!” The giant screamed his anguish as four cops kept trying to pull him back. Andreas pushed his way to his brother and the officers let go as Gio collapsed in his brother’s arms.

“Shh, come now G. Get under control. Nikko’s watching, and we gotta call Blaze. I can’t let you fuck up this scene. You’re drunk. Pull your shit together.” He kept his tone harsh hoping it would sink inside his brother’s alcohol induced brain.

“Nikko saw this,” he cried and at Andreas’ nod the fight went out of Gio. “No!” he cried. But Andreas felt the fury begin to leave him, despair taking its place. He knew Gio would pull it together. For his brothers.

“You’re all coming home with me tonight. We’ll figure this out. And we will catch that bastard.”

He walked Gio down the steps of the stoop, and signaled to the paramedic who tapped Nikko on the arm and pointed to Andreas.

Making eye contact with Nikko, Andreas signaled for him to come and he did. Getting on Gio’s other side, Nikko got under his other arm. “Where we going, Andy?” he asked, his adolescent voice cracking.

“We’re going to my place in Manhattan. We will call Blaze, and then we’ll figure this shit out.”

“Figure this shit out,” Gio repeated in a daze. “And then get the bastard who did this.” He was sobering up quickly and started to stand on his own merit, but kept Nikko tucked under his arm.

“Damn straight,” Andreas murmured under his breath as he opened the back door of his unmarked car, and Nikko climbed in.

Looking at Gio, he exclaimed sharply, but softly. “No more booze. No More. Got it.”

“Got it,” Gio swore. He silently vowed to give up alcohol for himself and his parents. Andy nodded, and passed around Gio to the driver’s side door as Gio got in shotgun.

When they pulled away from the curb, past all the vehicles and all the flashing lights, each of them was looking back, taking it all in. Andreas in the rear view mirror, Gio from the side mirror, and Nikko from the back window. It was a night none of them would ever forget, one they wished to God had never happened.

Business as Usual

R
unning in though
the back door, Andreas lifted two fingers to the artery just below his jaw on the left. Taking a quick check of his pulse, he knew within a few seconds he had reached his optimum heart rate. He had hit the pavement early, running clear around the island trails. He felt invigorated from his restless night. He was glad the community had built these paths for runners like him. Not able to sleep much despite the late night, he awoke with the sun and had his run an hour earlier than usual. He’d picked up the pace the last mile to hit that zone. He was thirty-five, still in his top physical form, and he wanted to keep it that way. His brothers were all younger, and some bigger than him, he thought of Gio who did more weights than any of them. He wanted to keep up his strength and keep up with them.

He went straight to the kitchen. Quickly, pulling out a bottle of water from the refrigerator he uncapped the distilled local water and swallowed several rehydrating gulps. He had finished the bottle he carried with him half way through his run.

It was humid and hot already despite the earlier hour. Florida’s eternal summer was still upon them in November and only in January did it remain cool all day.

He gazed out at the view of the bay. The sun was up and rising and glowing across the water. He had told Angela to come in later today thinking he might sleep in after the celebration last night, but memories from the past had haunted him. He hadn’t thought about that night in years. Yes, he remembered it. Hell, he would never forget it. Didn’t want to. But he could have done very well without the play by play. It was already burned into his soul. His heart. It was nearly ten years ago. Next month it would be that. His parents had been killed the week before Christmas.