I ducked in time as some creep-o swung at me with a lead pipe and spun around as someone turned on lights. I should've known it was too eerie to be true. I desperately grabbed Creep-O's lead pipe before slugging his stomach, leaving him anguished. My eyes soon adjusted as about 15 of Moscatelli's goons started toward us. We limped out of the warehouse and hopped into my convertible.
We were crossing on Brooklyn Bridge when we were stopped by a police officer. He started questioning us on some robberies near Harvey's office that had been in the news recently, but we were too nervous to give steady answers, what with the mob after us.
"I'm going to have to ask you both to please exit the vehicle and place your hands on the car hood."
"But sir, we really don't have time-
"EXIT the vehicle and PLACE YOUR HANDS where we can see them," he yelled gruffly, yanking me out of the wagon and flinging open Harvey's door before using his makeshift crutch to shove Harvey's leg out the side of the door! My heart was thumping and brain was buzzing as I spotted the cars that had just followed us round the bend and pull up. We were too late. But wait, why was another police car behind them.
Men that I thought were Moscatelli's got out of the goon vehicle, staring us down and closing in on us. Suddenly, the door to the other police car opened and I couldn't believe who got out with a devilish grin on his face.
"Boys, boys, lay off the lovebirds for a sec, will you? We have something to discuss..."
YOU ARE READING
Mobs and Memories
Historical FictionWhen her fiancé and close friend go missing in 1944, feisty broad Dahlia Stevens tangles with a familiar mafia don and pursues wild adventure on one fateful night through New York City to bring back her boys. Will she rise to the occasion or get can...
