Accidental Mobster (21 page)

“What are you doing?” Reggie asks suspiciously.

I place the piece of paper in his cup holder. “It's a phone number. If anything happens to me, I want you to call this person and tell him everything you saw that night you joined me in the diner. But only if I disappear, okay? Not before that.”

He shrugs. “Why shouldn't I call it now?”

“Because, if you've stopped being my friend, at least be loyal enough to help me one last time.” Opening the door, I climb out quickly. “Just go home, Reggie. I guess I'm on my own.” I slam the door and walk away, and my one-time best friend drives away.

* * * *

Reaching Agent Frank McCoy turns out to be much easier than I had expected. I call Pete Alvarez from the pay phone at the gas station, only to find out that Frank is in his office. The hard part is getting Frank to listen to me.

“Frank, you've got to get out. Ray knows there's an undercover.”

“Really? This is bad news.”

“I know,” I agree. “You've got to get out.”

“Get out? Now? They don't suspect it's me, do they? I've been in a while.”

“They suspect everybody,” I answer. “They don't know who it is. But they want me to tell them.”

“Then you've got to leave,” Frank states.

I feared this would be his reaction. “I'm not leaving. I told them I don't know who it is.”

“It's too dangerous, Danny. You're leaving.”

“No! I'm not.”

“If I have to kidnap you myself, I'm getting you out of there,” Frank warns. I think fast. If I want to stay with the Vigliottis, I'll have to come up with another plan.

“All right! Fine!” I say, making my voice sound angry. At this point, it's not difficult. “I'll leave. You can pick me up Wednesday after school.”

“No, I'll pick you up tomorrow.”

“Wednesday—or I'm running away,” I threaten.

“You're such a brat, Danny. Fine, I'll pick you up Wednesday.”

I hang up the phone. Another pointless conversation, and now I am running out of time and allies. I need help, and I can't turn to the Vigliottis, my law enforcement contacts, or my best friend. I'm trapped.

“Hey, Danny. What are you doing here? I thought you were going somewhere with your friend.”

I spin to find Gino behind me and plaster a smile on my face. “Oh, he got a call from his mom to come home and finish his homework,” I explain. “I told him to drop me here. I was trying to call Vince to come take me home because I left my cell phone at the house.” I almost shake my head. I am getting so good at lying that I am starting to convince myself my made-up stories are true.

“Well, then, I guess it's your lucky day,” Gino says, pointing to the Lexus. “'Cause I'm headed that way myself.”

I can't help but grin, and I follow Gino to the SUV. I feel content when I'm around Gino. Despite everything I now know about my godfather, I have to admit that I like being around him, and maybe, he actually likes having me around too. This is such a good feeling for me; I never felt wanted by my dad. That's why I feel so strongly about protecting Gino. Above everything else, I owe him for giving me a family.

I lean back on the seat and sigh.

“What is it?” Gino asks, smiling at me.

I grin back. “I love this car. Especially when I don't have to worry about a bloody head.”

Gino chuckles. “That was an interesting night.”

All of a sudden I feel brave. “Barb Kluwer was terrible. I wonder what ever happened to her,” I say casually.

But Gino's face is unreadable. “I don't know. She wasn't my favorite person either. Thankfully, her claim on you wasn't as good as mine.” He smiles again. “Are you going to try out for wrestling at Newcastle High?” he asks, changing the subject abruptly.

“Yeah, I think so. Practice begins next week. It's too bad Vince—”

“Vince doesn't like sports,” Gino interjects. “There's nothing we can do about that.” His voice is tinged with irritation.

“I know. I just think he could be good—he's amazingly fast and has great fighting skills,” I say, but I notice that Gino's face is still hard. I pause for a moment, wanting to change the subject and wondering how I can bring up something that has been on my mind since the day I saw Gino, Joe, and Donny in the Vigliotti kitchen. I try an angle I think might get me there. “Do you know what's going on with my parents?”

Gino shakes his head. “I don't really.” He pauses. “I'm going to be straight with you, Danny, because I know you're old enough to understand this. I want to warn you that your parents may not stay together.”

I don't mean to laugh, but I can't help myself.

Gino scrutinizes me carefully.

“I'm sorry,” I say. “It's not funny. It's just, they were never a good match—I'm almost relieved it's over.” I choose my next words carefully. “Mom was never happy with him. I think she must have had another life before that one.”

Gino nods. “Your mom was very different before she met Del. I think he was an escape for her.”

“An escape from what?” I ask quickly.

Gino scowls, as if knowing he may have revealed too much. “A life she wasn't sure she wanted,” he answers carefully.

“Well, she didn't end up wanting Dad. But, with the way he's treated me, he's not really my dad.”

“No, he's not really, is he?” Gino asks rhetorically as he pulls the Lexus into the driveway. Before I have a chance to say more, Gino is out of the car and headed for the door.

“You have to tell me about her eventually,” I say to the empty car. Penny Higgins has a hidden past, and as her son, I want to know what that is.

Monday morning brings no answers for me. I have less than two days to figure out how to handle Barb's blackmailing. I'm not giving her or Ray Gallo what they want, but if I don't, Gino might kick me out for good. And the Chen family will be dead. My options are so limited; I can't trust any Vigliotti with this information, Reggie has disentangled himself from the sticky situation, and Frank is ignoring his own danger and my desires to stay put. For the first time since my dad attacked Mr. Doonesby, I feel completely, hopelessly alone. Second period is usually a high point in my day. Mr. Capriotti's English class is fun because I often find myself enjoying the class discussions. I'm even finding that I like to write because it helps me cope with some of the anger I feel every day because my parents don't seem to care whether I'm around or not. Not that I want to be with them; my new life, even with all of its drama, is great. I just want to make sure it stays that way. But today, I'm having trouble concentrating, and by the end of class, Mr. Capriotti is somehow aware of my struggle. “Danny,” the teacher calls as students gather their items and leave the room. “Can I see you a moment?”

I instantly regret my lack of focus. I don't need trouble now—my plate is well beyond full already. I trudge to the front of the room, trying not to show my frustration.

“What's up, Danny?” Lenny Capriotti asks, his dark eyebrows arching questioningly.

“You're usually right in the middle of our class debates. Today you're a zombie.”

I shake my head. “Sorry. It's been a tough week.”

“It's Monday, Danny.”

I shrug. “I know. And it's been a tough week,” I repeat, aggravated that Mr. Capriotti feels the need to interrogate me.

Mr. Capriotti leans back in his chair and studies me thoughtfully. “Do you know my brother?”

I try not to jerk with surprise. I'm definitely not expecting the question, and right now, the issue is a little sensitive. His brother's assistant is blackmailing me, so I don't exactly have warm, cuddly feelings toward Mark Capriotti at the moment. “What? Why?”

“I stopped by my brother's house on the way home last night. I've been trying to have a better relationship with him, although right now the effort is all one-sided. But I could have sworn I heard him mention your name when he was on the phone.”

“Really? How strange,” I say, not thinking this was strange at all.

“Yeah, maybe I misunderstood him,” Mr. Capriotti says. “He blew off our plans to go to a game tonight to go to a business dinner instead. Typical.”

I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable with Mr. Capriotti's personal sharing. I'm sure he's doing it to draw me out, but I wish he'd leave me alone. “That sucks. Too bad, since you're trying so hard to get to know him.”

“Yeah, it stinks,” Mr. Capriotti agrees, and then he laughs harshly. “Apparently, he'd rather spend time with Tommy Gallo's dad than his own brother. How's that for cruel justice?”

I stare at Mr. Capriotti with an intensity I can't hide. “What? He's getting together with Mister Gallo tonight?” My voice seems to have traveled up an entire octave, but I'm too focused to care.

Mr. Capriotti shrugs. “Oh, I don't know. That's what it sounded like. Of all the people!

He'd rather go to a dinky diner than to a baseball game with me!”

I start to back away. “I gotta go. I promise I'll try to do better next time.”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry for the whining. I'm sure you've got plenty of other things to worry about.”

“It's okay. Don't worry about it. We all have our family issues.” I try to sound reassuring while at the same time backing out of the room. I finally reach the door and hurry out, relieved to be away from my teacher so I can think about the new information I stumbled on.

Mark Capriotti and Ray are going to meet. This is a big deal—something I'm sure the district attorney had never meant for his brother to overhear. And my teacher, Mr. Capriotti, had probably no idea how important this information is. I can almost hear Reggie urging me to tell Frank about the meeting so the FBI and police could catch Mark Capriotti in the act. But what if Gino is there? He could be caught too, and although my godfather might deserve to be arrested, I can't be the reason Gino is caught. Gino saved me from Barb Kluwer; I owe him my life, in a way. I can't betray him—right or wrong. Debts like that can't be forgotten. The information is enough for me to design a new game plan. True, most of the people I would have trusted in my present crises are now unavailable to me or unwilling to help me do what I want to do—that is, protect Gino, Frank, and the Chen family all at once. But I don't have time to sit and feel sorry for myself. My time is short, and I must work quickly. That leaves only one option—resurrecting old friendships and taking on the Newcastle Mafia's underboss with a small advantage—the element of surprise.

After third period ends, I stand next to Portia's locker, knowing she and Tony swap their books after their first three classes. I must talk to them both, but I'm not expecting any miracles. And their helping me would be just that—a miracle.

Sure enough, Portia and Tony are headed in my direction less than a minute later. When they see me, neither looks pleased. I know if they hadn't needed to change their books they would have turned and walked away from me, but at the moment, they are trapped. They walk slowly toward me, Tony scowling and Portia's expression worried and angry. As they come closer, Portia confronts me. “What do you want, Danny?”

“Hey, Portia, I'm going to get a drink of water. I'll come back when he leaves,” Tony announces ungraciously.

“No. I need to talk to both of you. Alone. Now.” I hope they will agree without a fight, but I wouldn't be surprised if they push me out of the way and ignore me.

“Right now?” Portia asks.

“No way,” says Tony. “I'm not being late to class for you. That would be a total waste of our time.”

I hate the way he says
our¸
but I still need his help. Tony will never listen to me unless I offer him something he can't resist. “Tony,” I say quietly, so that only Portia and he can hear me. “I know who hurt your father. And if you don't listen to me—if you don't help me—they're going to hurt your whole family too.”

Portia gasps, but Tony moves forward and stands face to face with me. “What the hell are you talking about?” he spits, careful to keep his voice low. “Are you threatening me?”

His nose is inches from mine and my temper surges. I push Tony back, and he stumbles into Portia.

“Danny, what is going on?” she demands, her cheeks turning red with fury. Tony regains his balance and glares at me as though ready to try his luck in a fight. I hold up my hand. “I'm talking about an issue of life or death. Please talk to me. I don't have anyone else to turn to. If you don't help me, Tony's family will be hurt, and I may disappear forever.”

* * * *

Convincing Tony Chen to help me is as difficult as I imagined it would be. He's irate that I saw the men who had beaten his dad and yet said nothing.

“My life was in danger, because if I said anything, the mob would kill me,” I explain, snapping a leaf off one of the smallish trees shielding us from the school. We are standing outside, knowing we could all be in trouble if someone sees us out of class.

“I couldn't care less about your life,” Tony retorts.

“Oh, come on, Tony, just listen to him.” Portia is turning into my best ally, even though she is still obviously distrustful of me. “Why didn't you go to the cops, Danny?”

Because I needed to protect Gino,
I think. “I told you, I was discovered by an undercover cop.”

“And you were there, why?” Tony asks, his tone accusing.

“I saw your dad being roughly pulled into the diner. I was out with another friend, and we were worried about him, so we checked it out,” I say, trying to keep the story as close to the truth as possible, yet not wanting to tip them off to the Vigliotti connection. “I was discovered but, thankfully, not by a mobster.”

“No kidding,” Portia says. “You could have been killed!” I am momentarily distracted by her concern for me. I feel my attraction to her washing over me all over again—I'm not sure it ever went away.