Reckless Abandon

57

THE THREE WALKED into Vito Galeano’s grocery store at eleven sharp. The place was not terribly big-four rows of shelving running up and down the space, a counter at the rear, and, up half a flight of stairs, a loft office from which Vito had a view over half glasses of the entire store. It was old-fashioned and fragrant with hanging sausage and spices. Vito came down the stairs, checking each of the half-dozen customers in the place, and finally, checking out Stone, Dino, and Holly.

“Buon giorno,” he said to Dino.

“Buon giorno,” Dino replied.

“How you doin’?” he said to Stone and Holly.

“Good,” they replied simultaneously.

“This is Gino,” he said, nodding at the aproned man behind the counter, who nodded at them all.

Vito reached under the counter, pulled out an apron, and handed it to Dino. “Here’s how we’re going to do this,” he said. “Dino, you’re the only one who looks like he could work here, so you put on the apron and stand behind the counter with Gino. Pay attention to the way he works while we’re waiting, so you won’t look stupid when Trini comes in.”

“Right,” Dino said. He took off his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves, and put on the apron.

“You were born to this,” Stone said.

“Aw, shut up.”

“You two,” Gino said, nodding at Stone and Holly, “get over to one side of the store, so the shelves will hide you. Trini comes in, he’ll walk down the center aisle, like everybody. When that happens, Gino, Dino, one of you sing out, ‘Vito, gimme a price on a whole Genoa salami!’ That means Trini is in the store.” He looked out to the street. “Here comes the truck.”

They all turned to see a beautifully painted black truck pull up to the curb. Painted on the side was the legend “Gaetano Galeano amp; Sons, Premium Provisions” in a florid style.

“Beautiful truck,” Stone said.

“Thanks,” Vito replied. “My old man designed it before the Genoveses got to him on the bocce court at the coffeehouse.”

“Sorry about that,” Stone said.

Vito shrugged. “It’s our game,” he said. “Anyway, Trini comes down the center aisle, you hear the thing about the price of salami, and you two come around the shelves into the aisle behind Trini. You’re carryin’?”

They nodded.

“Don’t shoot nobody, okay? Except Trini, if you have to.”

They shook their heads.

“There’ll be a man up in my office with a shotgun. Dino and Gino are carryin’; Trini’s bracketed.” He looked at Holly. “You got cuffs?”

She nodded. “Three pair.”

“You frisk him and cuff him, then we hustle him over to the stairs.” He nodded to his right, where a door led to stairs to the basement.

Stone didn’t want to think about the basement. “Then what?”

“Then we talk.”

“What’s to talk about?” Holly asked.

Dino held up a hand. “You’ll talk.”

Holly shrugged. “We’ll talk.” She shot a glance at Stone that meant she didn’t like this.

Stone shook his head slightly; this was no time to argue.

“Is the truck real?” Holly asked.

“What, real?” Vito asked. “You never seen a truck?”

“I mean, does it really have the hidden compartment?”

“Comes in handy from time to time,” Vito replied. Then he looked at Dino. “You already forgot this, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dino said.

“Anybody hungry?” He took a tray of sliced salami and olives from under the counter. “We got free samples.”

Everybody took something to be polite, except Stone, who took it because he was hungry.

“Okay, spread out, and let’s do this,” Vito said.

Dino hopped over the counter and took up his position. Stone and Holly moved to where they had been told. They couldn’t see the store entrance.

“What’s your plan?” Stone asked.

“What Vito said,” Holly replied.

“I mean after we’ve taken him. What are you going to do with him?”

“I haven’t given it much thought,” she said, taking the Sig Pro from her purse and pumping a round into the chamber.

“It’s time you did,” Stone said. “In a few minutes you’re going to have a dangerous criminal on your hands, and you’d better figure out how you’re going to handle him.”

“I’m going to take him home,” she said.

“How?”

“Airlines?”

“Think about how much trouble Trini could make on an airplane with a couple of hundred civilians watching. Then you’ve got to get him to Orchid Beach.”

“We’ll get a flight to Palm Beach, and I’ll have a squad car meet us.”

“I’ve got a better idea.”

“What?”

“I know a guy out at Teterboro who can produce a jet charter on demand-something light, like a Lear or a CitationJet.”

“What’s it going to cost?”

“A guess? Eight, ten thousand.”

“I can spring for that. My department’s got a discretionary fund for emergency expenditures.”

“That’s our best bet. We bundle Trini into Dino’s car, drive him to Teterboro where the jet’s waiting with the engines running. Two and a half, three hours and you’re home.”

“You coming?”

“Once he’s on board, you won’t need me,” Stone said.

“Oh, I need you,” she said, leering at him.

“I thought we satisfied that need last night.”

“Only temporarily.”

“We’ll work on that.”

“Vito!” Dino yelled suddenly, “gimme a price on a whole Genoa salami!”

“Trini’s in the store,” Stone whispered. “Here we go.”