Mob Boss Eleven- The Wrong One (The Mob Boss Series Book 11) (13 page)

But
instead of the man going toward Trina, as the crowd seemed to want, he smiled
and began to back up.
 
And then he pulled
out a big gun.
 
Another man in black
stood up, pulling out his weapon too, and they both started shooting.
 
The crowd went crazy with screams and a mad
dash for the exit, but those men in black weren’t aiming wildly at all.
 
Their bullets weren’t trying to spray down
innocent bystanders.
 
They had Trina in
their sights.
 
And they were spraying
her.

By
the time they were done, and were running out of that club too, Reno Gabrini’s
wife was down.
 
Tommy Gabrini’s wife was
down.
 
Jimmy Gabrini’s young wife was
down too.
 
The owner of the club, who
didn’t know Grace and Val from the man on the moon, ran to Trina’s aid.
 
Because he knew who she belonged to.
 
She was Reno’s woman.
 
She was the one woman in Vegas he thought
would be untouchable.
 

But
not only had she been touched, but was by far the hardest hit.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The
plane had been in the air for nearly four hours.
 
Reno was now lying down on the double seat inside
his private cabin, and was reading over the addendums to the contract he would
be signing on Monday.
 
He removed his
reading glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose.
 
And he once again began to wonder if this
decision to open up so many hotels would prove to be a smart move in the
end.
 
What if it was too ambitious an
undertaking?
 
The high dollar action were
in the big towns, not small-town America.
 
The PaLargio had that kind of elites only brand.
 
But if Reno’s venture succeeded, it would be
a brilliant move.
 
If it failed, it could
be colossal.
 
And his brand could be
tarnished forever.
 

Then
he had to smile at himself.
 
His brand
wouldn’t be tarnished in the least and he knew it.
 
People would continue to flock to the
PaLargio in Vegas because they gave it all they had.
 
They put on the best shows, and had the
hottest casino, and treated their hotel guests with the kind of respect only
presidents and kings were accustomed to.
 
And they would treat their guests at the PaLargio South the same way.
 
People would come to those towns, not because
of the towns, but because they wanted to spend a few nights in that PaLargio
style.
 
At least that was Reno’s vision.
 

The
door to his cabin opened quickly.
 
Which
astounded Reno because he traveled with nearly half a dozen aides, and every
one of them knew better than to just barge on in.
 
But when he saw that it was Janet, his
executive assistant, and that harried look on her pretty face, he knew this was
no ordinary slight.
 
Something was wrong.

“What
is it?”

“I
just got a call from Bev, sir.”

Reno
continued to lay on his back, staring up at his assistant.
 
“Who?”

“From
Bev.
 
A friend of mine.
 
She didn’t know how else to get in touch with
you.
 
She was at Scroll’s tonight.”

Reno
continued to stare at her.
 
He knew the
club’s name.
 
He knew it was the club
Trina had reservations to attend.
 
But he
didn’t want to think the unthinkable.
 
He
didn’t want to respond to that panic that was trying to surge within him.

“She
knows your wife only because she sometimes would buy her clothes from
Champagne’s.
 
From your wife’s clothing
store.”

Reno
continued to stare.
 
Continued to fight
that surging panic with everything within him.

“There
was a shooting at Scroll’s sir, and she says Mrs. Gabrini was involved.”

Reno
lost the battle.
 
The panic hit him like
a sledgehammer, and
 
he lifted his body
up as if he was gasping for air.
 
“She
was involved?” he asked nervously.
 
“What
the fuck does that mean?
 
How was she
involved?”

“She
was shot, sir,” Janet said quickly.

And
Reno jumped up, with the papers that had once dominated his thoughts dropping
to the floor like trash.
 
“Where is she
now?
 
Is she still at the club?”

“She
doesn’t know, sir,” Janet said, near tears.
 
To see her boss so unhinged scared even her.
 
“Bev ran out of the club as soon as the
shooting started.
 
But she knows for a
fact they were shooting at Mrs. Gabrini.”

“Maybe
they missed,” Reno said desperately.
 
“Shooters miss all the time.
 
Maybe they missed.”
 
He pulled out
his cell phone so fast it flew from his hands.

“They
didn’t miss, sir,” Janet said sadly as she picked up his phone.
 
“Mrs. Gabrini was already down before Bev
made it out of the club.
 
She said Mrs.
Gabrini was already down, sir.”

Reno’s
heart dropped.
 
Janet handed him his cell
phone.
 
He had to close his eyes, to
regulate his breathing.
 
“Tell them to
turn this plane around.”

“Yes,
sir,” Janet said.

“Tell
him to get me back to Vegas.”

“Yes,
sir,” Janet repeated, and hurried to instruct the pilot.

Reno’s
heart was pounding through his chest as he tried to make a call.
 
Why did he have to be hundreds of miles away
when she needed him most?
 
Why didn’t he
have his ass in place when she needed him most for once in his life?
 
But he couldn’t help that now.
 
He, instead, focused on making sure she was
protected.
 
If that friend of Janet’s was
right, the implication could be devastating. She could be badly injured or . .
. or . . .
 

Reno
refused to entertain that implication.
 
She was going to make it through this if he had to will it to be so
himself.
  
But he had a job to do. He had
to make sure she was protected during her most vulnerable time.

He
made phone call after phone call.
 
He
ordered Jimmy to the hospital.
 
He
ordered his security chief to take charge of his two younger children and their
nannies, to get them into the safe room.
 
He ordered the men in his secret service to that nightclub, to get that
video, to find out everything they could find out right under the nose of the
cops.
 
He called Sal.
 
He called Tommy.
 
Tommy was in Seattle, but he was closer to
Vegas than Reno was.
 
But he needed Tommy
there too.
 
He trusted no man above
Tommy.
 
He phoned everybody he trusted to
get there and look out for his wife.
 
He
called every one of the Gabrini men.
 
And
every one of them answered, and responded to the call.

Then
he called Trina’s phone.
 
He knew it was
useless.
 
But he couldn’t help it.
 
He felt like an animal in a cage.
 
He needed to do everything
 
himself, but he was on a
got
damn plane and couldn’t do anything himself.
 
That was why he phoned her.
 
He was hoping against hope that she would
answer.
 
He was hoping against hope that
Janet’s friend was pulling some kind of horrific prank, and Trina would laugh
him to scorn.
 

But
Trina didn’t laugh him to anything.
 
She
didn’t answer her phone.
 

Of
all the people he phoned, she was the only one who didn’t answer the call.
 

Of
all the people he phoned, she was the only one, he feared, who couldn’t answer.

Sal
drove his brand new Mercedes-Benz through the streets of Vegas like a man
without limits.
 
Gemma rode right beside
him, urging him to get there faster, knowing that it wasn’t just Trina who had
been at that nightclub, but Grace and Val too.
 
Gemma was supposed to have been there.
 
But she was working too hard.

Jimmy
had phoned them again and told them where the ambulance had taken the ladies,
and they were well on their way.
 
They
had avoided calling Tommy.
 
They wanted
more information before they called him.
 
But Tommy was already blowing up Sal’s phone.

Sal’s
cell phone was synched to his car phone, and he saw Tommy’s number on the
dashboard screen.

“You’re
going to answer it?” Gemma asked him.

“He
has a right to know,” Sal responded.

“But
I thought you were going to wait until we got more information.”

“I
was.
 
But he’s not waiting.”
 
Sal pressed the answer button.
 
“Hey,” he said into the car’s speaker system.

Tommy
Gabrini was in his limousine, as his limo driver hurried him to the Seattle
airstrip.
 
The nanny was with him, and so
was little Destiny.
 
“Reno phoned you?”
Tommy asked his younger brother.

“He
phoned,” Sal responded.
 
“I’m on my way
to the hospital now.”

“What
do you know so far?” Tommy asked.
 
“Reno
didn’t know shit.”

“I
don’t know shit either,” Sal responded.
 
“It just happened.
 
Where are
you?
 
Still in Seattle?”

“I’m
on my way to my plane.
 
I have Destiny
with me, and her nanny.”

Sal
frowned.
 
“What are you bringing the baby
for?”

“What
do you think?” Tommy responded.
 
“I’m not
leaving our baby without me or Grace in town.”

“Oh,
right,” Sal said.
 
His thoughts were
scattered all over the place.

“Is
Grace with you?” Tommy asked.
 
“I
couldn’t reach her on her cell phone.
 
I
want to let her know what’s going on, and that we’re on our way.”

Sal
glanced at Gemma.

“Sal?”
Tommy asked.
 
“Is Grace with you?”

“No,
Tommy,” Gemma spoke up.
 
“She’s not with
us.”

“She
hasn’t arrived?
 
She phoned and told me
she was going to spend the night at your house, then head back to Seattle
tomorrow.”

“She
arrived,” Gemma said.

Tommy
didn’t like this hesitancy.
 
It wasn’t Gemma
nor Sal’s style.
 
“Okay,” he said.

“But
 
. . .”
 
Gemma couldn’t bring herself to tell him.
 
She looked at Sal.

Sal
hated to tell the news too.
 
But he had
to.
 
“Jimmy says it wasn’t just Tree,” he
said.

There
was a slight hesitation.
 
What were they
talking about?
 
“What do you mean it
wasn’t just Tree?” Tommy asked.

“Grace
and Val were with her when the shooting went down,” Sal said bluntly.
 
“Tommy, we think Grace might have been shot
too.”

Tommy’s
heart fell through his shoe.
 
The Nanny
looked at him.
 
“What are you saying?” he
asked.
 
“Are you telling me that Grace .
. . that my wife?”

“We
aren’t sure,” Sal quickly responded.
 
His
heart was aching for his brother.
 
“But
we do know she went to meet Trina and Val at Scroll’s.
 
We know that much.
 
And the shooting took place at Scroll’s.
 
We know that too.”

Tommy’s
heart was hammering.
 
“But how can you be
sure she showed up?
 
Maybe she didn’t
make it there.
 
Maybe---”

“Two
other ladies were hit, Tom,” Sal said to kill any such delusions his brother
might be concocting.
 
His heart was
hammering too.
 
“According to the owner
of the place, both of those ladies were sitting at Trina’s table.
 
Both of those ladies were with Tree.
 
Grace and Val, Tommy, were with Tree.”

Tommy
leaned forward, and rubbed his hand across his forehead.
 
Not Grace.
 
Not Grace too.
 
He looked at his
little child. His beautiful baby girl.
 
And he didn’t know if he could bear this.
 
“Dear Lord,” he said.
 
“Dear Lord!”

As
soon as the Mercedes came to a screeching halt in the parking lot, Sal and
Gemma both jumped out.
 
Sal took Gemma’s
hand and hurried with her into the hospital.
 
He understood how differently this could have been.
 
It was bad enough that it was Tree, Grace,
and Val.
 
But he was thanking God
Almighty that it wasn’t Gemma too.
 
Because it so easily could have been her too.
 
She had planned to go out with the ladies
also.
 
But she didn’t go.
 
He was nearly in tears when he realized how
close it came to being her too.