Author's notes: This was a fun chapter to write. Watch out for the next one, cause something is going to happen! Please review, it helps my poor shattered ego!
It was no big surprise to Danny that the suspect in the bodega hold-up caved quickly. Five minutes into questioning he was giving more answers than Danny needed to know. The most important was how he had come into possession of the gun. A pawn shop over on West 73rd was where he claimed the gun had been purchased.
Danny and Detective Mitchell had shown up and after flashing their badges, the owner Darrel Landis grudgingly agreed to answer some questions.
"Officers," he whined. "I'm just a working guy. Someone comes in with something to sell and all I can do is to ask if it's stolen merchandise. I can't help it if I get lied to by a customer."
"Yeah, yeah, save the sob story Darrel," Danny was dangerously close to snapping. "Look, I want answers now. Who brought in the gun?"
"I already told you, this card he signed says his name is Bob Smith." Darrel waved a 3x5 card with a sloppy scrawl on it. "I can't be held responsible for any misrepresentation."
"The hell ya can't!" Danny snarled and grabbed the hand holding the card. "Now I want the truth. I'm guessing this "Bob Smith" is someone local, someone you see often enough. Cause a smart business man like you wouldn't go taking a hot gun from just any smuck off the street." Danny leaned in close, "Who is it?"
Wrenching his hand free from Danny's vise-like grip, Darrel shook it out and glanced at Detective Mitchell. "Did you see that? Police Brutality!"
Crossing his arms and giving an icy stare, Mitchell replied in a deadpan tone. "I didn't see a thing. But I do see a few things in here that might be on a watch list. You know, I'd hate to have to shut you down to investigate that."
Darrel understood the message loud and clear. "Alright. God! They wonder why the small businessman can't make it these days."
"Enough with the commentary, who?" Danny growled.
"Some junkie, name's Reggie." Darrel made sure to stay back from Danny's reach.
Danny pressed for more, "Where's he hang out? What does he look like?"
"How the hell do I know where he hangs out? Do I look like I'd be buddies with him?" Darrel glanced at the two men. "He's a black guy, usually shaves his head and a lot of time he talks about the food over at the mission over on West 80th or something. That's all I know. I swear on my mother's grave."
"I'm sure that's a comfort to her," Danny turned and walked out. Once outside the men got into the car and Danny phoned Mac to update. "Yeah Mac, we've got a lead on a junkie who brought the gun in. Where? Ok, let me know if she finds anything. Sure. Bye." Danny turned to Mitchell, "Stella confirmed that it was Ricci's DNA on the cigarette found outside the warehouse. She's going with a team to run his apartment."
Mitchell nodded his agreement. "Sounds like we're starting to make some progress. Let's go see if we can find this Reggie character."
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Stella arrived at Ricci's apartment with a small army. They quickly divided up the small apartment and began looking for the link that would tie Ricci to Walker and then ultimately to Flack. It was only minutes later that her gloved hands were bagging an off the rack knock-off of a Versini suit. What appeared to be blood was evident on the fabric. Thinking that this was important enough to warrant immediate attention, she turned the scene over to one of the more experienced members of the crew and headed back to the lab.
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They decided to first try the Mission that Darrel had spoken of. Dispatch informed them of the location and the contact. Pulling up outside they entered through the doors, scanning the faces, looking for their man.
An older man with a warm smile approached them, his hands out in a welcoming gesture. "Hello gentlemen, welcome to Mission of Hope, I'm Father Joseph."
Detective Mitchell wasted no time, flashed his badge to the man. "I'm Detective Mitchell and this is Detective Danny Messer. We're looking for a junkie named Reggie."
"I'm afraid I haven't seen Reggie in several days. He only usually comes in when he is hungry and if he's smoking crack he doesn't waste time with food or companionship. Would you like me to call you if he shows up?"
"That would be great Father." Danny replied. "I know that you're bound by the rules of confession, but if you happen to overhear anyone talking about the shooting that occurred near here, we would appreciate any information."
"I understand; terrible thing the loss of a life. I listened to the morning new today. I understand that you also have an officer that is missing?" Father Joseph looked compassionately at Danny.
"Yes, Detective Don Flack," Danny steeled himself, keeping his emotions at bay. "Here's my card, call me if you hear anything or see Reggie."
"Most certainly," he reached out and touched Danny's shoulder. "I will pray for the safe return of your friend."
"Thanks Father." Danny turned and followed Mitchell back to the car.
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Frankie was speechless, the call he had just received had floored him. 'Ashley? She's with the detective.' The thought made his blood run cold.
(Flashback)
The club's doormen knew that pretty girls got in first and that the ratio should be more girls than men. For that reason, Frankie always had a fresh crop of gorgeous women to choose from. Tonight was no different. From his vantage point, he had an excellent view of the lower level. A group of three young women caught his eye. No, one of the three caught his eye. She was wearing a form fitting black dress, her golden hair pilled over her shoulders and her red lips pursed to take a sip from her glass.
He looked around at the others with him. Tony and Maurice were already with some of the girls that they had culled from the herd below. Frankie signaled his waiter, "See that girl down there? Get her a drink on me. Let her know I'd like to meet her."
A few minutes later the drink was delivered and the blonde looked up to where the waiter was pointing. She smiled and raised her glass to acknowledge him. Frankie gave her a questioning look to indicate that he was wondering if she would join him. She smiled and turned back to her friends. Moments later she broke away and made her way to the VIP area.
Frankie nodded to the staff member positioned at the stairs to allow her to pass. The blonde moved into the posh lounge that hung over the lower level.
"Thanks for the drink." She smiled. "I'm Ashley."
It hadn't taken Frankie long to discover that Ashley was a college student at NYU and that she liked to drink. Of course Frankie was happy to oblige. Drunken girls were often easy girls. It really saved a lot of the hassle convincing them into the sack. However always the charmer, he had continued to supply her with drinks and had spent considerable time with her on the dance floor. He had even smiled and held her close when she pulled an instant camera out of her purse and convince Maurice to snap the picture. Later that night Frankie helped her into his car and drove her to his house. She proved to be willing and able and they enjoyed a very energetic evening. In fact she had been so good, Frankie had decided to let her sleep there, planning a repeat in the morning. In retrospect Frankie knew that anytime you let your dick do the thinking you're fucked. At the time it was a great idea.
It had been about 5:30 a.m. when the cell phone next to him chirped. Answering it with a sleep fogged head, Frankie snapped wide awake when he heard the voice on the other end. Shaking his head to clear out the remaining cobwebs, Frankie replied. "What the fuck do you think your doing bringing that shit to my door? I told you to keep things separate." He paused, "What do you mean there's a shortage? You've got him with you? O.k. I'll be right down."
He glanced at the figure on the bed; she was laying on her stomach, still and quiet; sleep still claiming her. She had drunk a lot, it was possible that she was passed out and would remain in that condition. Frankie made his decision. He slipped a pair of jeans and pulled a shirt over his head. He was ready to leave when on second thought he pulled a gun out of the nightstand beside the bed. He leaned over and placed a light kiss on the sleeping girl's forehead and headed downstairs. The door shut softly and a pair of frightened eyes searched the room.
A pounding on the door greeted him as he reached the bottom of the steps. Yanking the door open he snarled at the man with the raised fist. "Shut up!"
Four men entered the room, Paul Walker, Maurice Ricci, and two others, both of whom looked very uncomfortable. Maurice turned to Frankie and began explaining the problem. "So when we found that this shipment was short, I asked our pal Hector here to explain. He's giving me this bullshit about unforeseen expenses and that this was how he was going to take care of them."
Frankie turned to one of the nervous men, "Is that true Hector? Are you trying to screw with me?"
Hector, looking pale beneath is rich brown skin shook his head. "No way Frankie, I think that there has been some miscommunication. You know I'd never try to cross you."
"I've had some concerns about our association. You see Hector; the last couple of deliveries you've made haven't tested out as pure as they should have. That has me wondering? I don't think that our doing business is such a great idea." Frankie nodded to Maurice slightly.
"Hijo de puta!" shouted the other man, who up until now had been quiet.
Maurice moved towards him, when suddenly a gun was in the man's hand. Instantly guns appeared from seemingly out of no where. Hector was brandishing a small gun pulled from the back of his pants; he turned towards Maurice, when the other man fired wildly. The shot hit the wall behind Frankie. Frankie reacted by pulling his gun out and leveling a shot at the gunman. The force of the bullet spun him around and gravity took over, spilling the man onto the hard wood floor.
Hector turned towards Frankie with a cry, Maurice and Paul both fired quickly. The man's body convulsed when the bullets bit into him and then he crumpled to the floor. Amazingly he tried to raise him self up, trying to reach his gun.
Frankie walked over to him, watching him struggle for his gun. Raising his own weapon he smiled slightly. "I guess I'm terminating your employment Hector. Don't count on severance pay." The gun barked once and the man's struggles ceased.
"Christ Frankie, I didn't think that they would be dumb enough to fire on us." Maurice looked worried as he glanced at his boss.
"Stupid fucks. Hector's been skimming for a while, I was waiting for the right time. I didn't think it would be now." The adrenaline was wearing off and Frankie's business-like mind started going over the needed details. "You guys work on getting these two out of here. I don't want any bodies turning up and pointing the finger towards us. I'll get something to start cleaning up this", suddenly Frankie stopped. "Shit, I've got a woman upstairs. She'd have to be dead not to have heard what happened down here. You two get going, I'm going upstairs to take care of her. One less coed in the world isn't gonna matter."
Frankie made his way up the stairs quietly and moved down the hallway. The door which he knew he had closed was standing slightly open. Pushing it open he moved inside the bedroom, not surprised to find the bed empty. What he didn't count on was not finding her cowering behind the bathroom door. What he did find was the patio door which led to his balcony was unlocked. He stepped out into the cool spring air. The grounds around his home were deserted, no sign of the blonde girl. He hit his fist on the railing. He needed to find the girl!
In her haste she had left her purse behind, leaving not only her camera but also her driver's license. That morning he and Maurice checked out her dorm room. Her roommate was confused as she related the story to Ashley's "Cousin Frank". Ashley had come home very early that morning and had thrown her books out of her backpack; cramming clothing into it and emptying out the laundry money jar. Her only comments had been about an emergency at home and she would be back when things were better.
Frankie had the photos in the camera developed, copies given to his employees and the promise of a bonus if they located her. Nothing turned up and Frankie began to relax.
(end of flashback)
It had been over a year. Why would Ashley go to the cops now and why would she choose the very cop that had a run in with one of his men?
Maurice's voice sounded in his ear, "Hey Frankie. What do you want me to do?"
A kernel of fear began to grow in Frankie. The cop was obviously out of touch with his department; Frankie had seen the news reports and knew that a search was ongoing. It was imperative that the cop and the girl were taken care of before they could let others know.
Turning his attention back to the phone he spoke low and quickly, "Take them both out. Make it look like an accident or something. But get them both."