Peril

CARUSO

He opened the trunk of the Lincoln, and the sight of Labriola curled up inside it convinced him at last that he was actually dead.

“The boat’s over there,” Tony said as he stepped up beside him.

Caruso nodded. “I guess I loved the guy,” he said quietly, his gaze still fixed on Labriola, the massive body now curiously small.

“He didn’t deserve it,” Tony said. He peered at his father a moment, then added, “You don’t deserve anything you don’t give back.” He looked at Caruso. “Did you know?”

“Know what?”

“About what he did… to Sara?”

Caruso shook his head. “No, I didn’t know about that, Tony.”

“Good,” Tony said.

They hauled the body from the trunk of the car, then across the deserted parking lot and over to Tony’s boat. After that Caruso waited while Tony went into the warehouse and retrieved two cement blocks and a length of chain.

“Okay,” Tony said. “Let’s go.”

Within minutes they were out to sea, the boat’s white wake coiling behind as they made their way across the dark water.

“Sara will probably get in touch with me at some point,” Tony said. “I’ll go from there. If she wants a divorce, I’ll give her one. If she wants to come back, I’ll take her back.”

Caruso nodded. “Whatever you say, Tony.”

A half hour later Tony killed the engine and the boat came to a halt. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

They lifted the body and brought it over to the gunwale and eased it down again, so that Labriola looked as if he were sitting silently, head drooped forward, staring at his feet.

Caruso shrugged. “Well, we’re both orphans now.”

“Yeah.”

They heaved the body over the side of the boat, then watched as the cement blocks dragged him down, feetfirst, so that their last glimpse was of his upraised arms, fingers reaching for them.

“If he were alive, he’d really be pissed,” Tony said dryly.

A burst of laughter shot from Caruso. “Sorry,” he said, now trying to get control. “The way you said it… I didn’t mean…” Another burst hit him. “I mean, I could just imagine it, you know, him all pissed off, ‘You fucking bastard, put them fucking shells in that fucking gun…’ ”

The same seizure of laughter now hit Tony. “Did you see his face? That look he had?”

“Oh, he was pissed all right,” Caruso said, the two of them laughing together now, one burst following another in rippling waves.

“Jesus,” Caruso said when the laughter finally faded.

“Yeah.”

“So, what now?”

“We go home,” Tony said.

And so they did, Tony guiding the boat landward where, minutes later, they could see the twinkling lights of the distant shore.