MURDER TAKES TIME

Chapter 70

A New Shopping List

Current Day 

The phone rang and Frankie reached for it—it was Mazzetti. “What’s up, Lou?” 

“Where are you?”

“On my way back to the station. Why?” Something sounded funny in his voice. There was a long pause, so I pushed. “Lou?”

“Tony Sannullo is dead.”

It hit Frankie like a hammer to the head. “Where?”

“Ambulance picked him up at Paulie Perlano’s house.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” I tried to figure that one out. Then, “Where are you, Lou?”

“On my way.”

“I’ll see you there.”

Frankie drove in silence, thinking about all the good times. Wondering why it had to end this way. Jesus Christ, Nicky. What have you done? 

It seemed to take forever to get to Paulie’s, and the closer he got the more his gut wrenched. He didn’t want to see Tony like this. That brought another thing to mind. 

Where the hell is Paulie? Did Nicky kill him, too? 

Sick as it sounded, Frankie wanted nothing more than to wake up and find out some other sick fuck was doing all this killing. But then, he wanted to win the lottery, too.

When Frankie arrived, Mazzetti was already waiting on the sidewalk in front of the house. “Any news on Paulie?” Frankie asked.

“No sign of him or the family,” Lou said, “and I got people looking everywhere.”

“Good.”

“‘Good’? What the hell does that mean?”

“If his family’s missing, it might mean Paulie took them somewhere. Nicky’s not killing his family.”

“I don’t know if Nicky did this,” Lou said.

Bugs perked up, hope still burning in him. “Tell me about it.”

“Looks like there could have been a fight, and Sannullo was shot just once. Punctured the lung, though.” As they walked in together, Mazzetti continued. “No torture, and no shots to the head or heart.”

“Then maybe it isn’t him,” Frankie said, and took the front steps two at a time.

“There’s something else, Donovan.” 

Frankie paused and turned around. “What?”

“This was called in from the house, like the shooter made the call.”

Frankie took a step back. “If the shooter called it in, and Tony was still alive, it must have been an accident.”

“That’s how I see it.”

“Paulie,” Frankie said.

“What?”

“It must have been Paulie. Something happened. Maybe they fought and the gun went off.”

Mazzetti raised his eyebrows. “Maybe so. Let’s go look.”

#

I sat in the corner of the room, hands cupped over my face, hiding tears. From who? 

Whom?

How sick was this, to be correcting my own grammar after I just killed my best friend? I lit another smoke, punishing myself. It had been years since I quit, but I’d stopped on the way home and bought some. It felt like the thing to do. They tasted like shit, but I popped them in, one after the other.