Authors: Andrea Smith
I played Dominic’s words back in my mind. The times when he mentioned my lack of trust in him; or when he assured me that he’d always stand by me, and protect me—why did I
still
question his sincerity? I felt guilty that my brain was giving more credence to Anna Maria’s words than his, but my heart was trying to convince me otherwise.
I couldn’t sleep all night, tossing and turning and feeling like my life was dissolving into a million pieces. There was something to be said for Anna Maria’s words: I needed to control my own destiny, and right or wrong, good or bad, I knew that I couldn’t do that if I remained here.
I finally gave up trying to catch some sleep at around three in the morning. I got dressed and then tossed some extra clothes into an overnight bag. I took the leather pouch containing my stash of cash from the top drawer, tossing it into the bag with my clothes.
As I went out into the chilly October darkness, I looked around to make sure that no one was watching me, or lurking in the bushes ready to pounce.
Did I mention that paranoia had also seeped in during the night?
Big time.
My ‘fight or flight’ reflex, instinct, whatever it’s called, had been trying to divide and conquer one another all night. They were both beaten to a pulp, and I knew there could only be one winner. My heart was controlling the ‘fight’ instinct; and my brain was governing the ‘flight’ reflex.
It was apparent brain was winning over heart. That’s just the way it had to be now that I was responsible for this little human being that was growing inside of me. As much as I loved Dominic, and yes, I loved him more than I could ever love anyone else. I just couldn’t risk putting an innocent child into the mix. His family was too influential, too powerful—and they outnumbered us so that made them stronger than the love Dominic and I had for one another.
I headed to West End. I wanted to make sure that everything that needed to be done on the Corallo order had been done. It was the least I could do to repay Dominic for all that he’d done for me. He would see a very nice profit off of that one order, and I wanted to make sure that it was perfect.
I’d check everything out, and then leave a sealed envelope for him in the office for when he returned. I’d have to make it harsh; otherwise I knew that he’d come looking for me, and I didn’t want that. It had to be a clean and permanent break.
I let myself into the shop, turning on the overhead lights in the warehouse area. I immediately saw the two wooden crates that had been ordered for the shipment. It appeared that everything had been packed up, and the crates nailed shut. That was probably why Sherry and Vinnie were here late last evening; maybe the two women were helping to pack. But why would Marco Trevani have been with them?
I guess it really didn’t matter. As long as the order was packed and ready to go out today, that was the only thing I needed to concern myself with now.
I saw that the shipping documents were enclosed in a plastic sleeve on top of one of the crates. I pulled the paperwork out to check and immediately I saw that this was the original Bill of Lading. It showed DBK Enterprises, LLC as the consignor, and VJC Italia dba Corallo Couture as the consignee. The terms were FOB: Destination.
What the hell?
I used my key to the front office area and switched on the lights there. I went over to Sherry’s desk, and started sifting through some of the paperwork. I located a courier packet containing the shipping documents that had arrived just yesterday per Dominic’s instructions. But why weren’t they the ones being sent with the shipment?
It was then I noticed the box containing the shoulder pads we’d been waiting for to finish the order. It had been placed underneath Sherry’s desk. I pulled it out and opened it, not surprised to see that the box was still full. They hadn’t been touched.
I was determined to find out what the hell was going on!
I traipsed back out to the warehouse, looking around wildly for something to help me open the lid to one of the crates. There was a crowbar in the corner that must’ve been used to pry the tops off when the crates were delivered.
I managed to pry each of the four corners of the top on the first crate, finally popping enough of the nails so that I could jimmy the rest of wooden lid off.
The strong smell of cedar immediately registered with me. I looked into the crate and noticed that cedar chips had been generously spread over all of the plastic wrapped garments. Someone knew what he or she was doing. It would help to protect the garments against moisture, moths and other insects during transit.
Good job.
Everything looked to be packaged properly for shipment. Maybe I
was
just being too paranoid. With everything Sherry had to do it was understandable she had forgotten to include the shoulder pads. It was lucky I had stopped by to check. I just needed to put the box in with the garments and re-seal the crate.
And then I noticed one of the suits underneath the boyfriend jackets I had pulled off the top. There were shoulder pads already in the jacket.
What?
I pulled one out, and ripped into the plastic wrap. I pulled the jacket out, and felt the shoulders.
Thick shoulder pads. Already sewn in? What the fuck?
I couldn’t figure out where the hell these shoulder pads had come from and who had sewn them into each of the jackets.
And why?
I took the suit jacket over to my desk and pulled a pair of scissors from the top drawer. I carefully snipped away the thread that had tacked one of the pads into place. I palmed the shoulder pad; noticing it felt heavier than the typical foam rubber. And it was squishy.
I took the end of the scissors, and ran it along the seam, pulling the material apart.
A plastic bag fell out. It was full of a white, powdery substance.
Oh My God.
My mind raced to comprehend all of this. Drug smuggling. In my friggin’ designs?
Had Dominic known? Was he part of it? Had he
masterminded
it?
It wasn’t possible! I quickly brushed that thought from my mind.
After all, he had made
promises
to me. He had sworn he’d never involve me in any type of illegal business, and yet here I was, up to my eyeballs in it.
There was no time to dissect all of this now. I needed to alert the authorities and let them untangle this mess. I wasn’t even sure what the white powder was.
Heroin?
Cocaine?
China White—whatever the hell that was?
I’d just phone them and ask that they send the vice-squad out. Isn’t that what members of the vice-squad are trained to do? Dip their fingers into a bag of white powder, and pinch off a tiny bit and then dust the tip of their tongues with it. They seemed to know immediately, with their highly skilled taste buds, just what type of contraband they were dealing with. I sure as hell wasn’t going to taste it; not that I would
even
know what either drug tasted like.
I picked up the receiver to my desk phone, prepared to push the 9-1-1 digits when an obvious thought came to mind. If Dominic had set up DBK Enterprises under
my
name, then
I
was the one who would be implicated for whatever this cache of white powder turned out to be, sewn smack dab into the shoulder pads of my DBK power suits.
Fuck that. I wasn’t going to be delivering my baby behind bars.
I made fast tracks out of the shop, not even bothering to re-seal the crate. It was four a.m.; I had a good four hours on them that I planned to make very good use of.
I reached into the zippered moneybag, and pulled out the piece of paper that I had kept in there with Lana’s address on it. Roanoke Rapids, North Carolina, here I come.
I’m counting on you, Lana.
Dominic
I glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was fucking after two in the afternoon, and I’d been sitting in this smoke-filled shit-hole of a room for going on six hours with an assortment of capos, underbosses, associates and various officials of the Teamsters Union trying to hash out a new contract that would serve everyone’s purpose. Everyone was talking over everyone else at the moment and I knew that we weren’t even close.
All I wanted was to be out of here, out of Chicago, and out of this role I’d been assigned to for the next five months. But those weren’t choices that I had and I knew it. At the moment, I had to take a leak, so I excused myself from the table and headed out into the hallway towards the john. I felt my pager vibrate in my pocket…again. I wasn’t sure who the hell was trying to reach me, but this was the third page I’d received. It was a big no-no checking your page while negotiations were underway.
I pulled it from my pocket and glanced at the screen. It was Marco’s number followed by 9-1-1. It was his third page.
I took a quick detour into one of the private pay phone booths that lined the wide hallway of the union hall, and dug through my pocket for some change.
“What is it?” I asked when he answered.
“You’ve got a problem, Nicky. A big one.”
“I’m listening, make it quick.”
“Karlie’s gone.”
“What do you mean…
gone
?” I snarled.
“I got a call from Vinnie around nine this morning. Someone had been in the shop after we left last night and before he got in this morning after eight. Uh…whoever it was, opened the crate and knows what’s inside. Nothing was taken, but when Karlie didn’t show up for work, and isn’t at her condo, well we sort’ve figured that it must’ve been her. No sign of her or her car.”
“Fuck,” I growled into the phone. “Of all of the stupid ideas, Marco. I should’ve just told you no on all of this. And don’t start with that greater good bullshit. I don’t want to fuckin’ hear it.”
“There’s more, Nick.”
Christ - what the fuck else could possibly have gone wrong?
“I’m listening,” I ground out, rubbing my forehead with my hand.
“You better hope you know how to find Karlie, and I mean fast. There’s a contract out on your lady.”
I felt the surge of adrenaline immediately. “Vinnie? Why didn’t he come to me first? Fuck that!”
“No. Your father put it out with Fat Tony. Vinnie must’ve gone to him instead of you, Nick.”
Fucking son-of-a-bitch!
“Nick—Nicky? You still there?”
“Yeah, yeah. Give me a second here.”
“You know, Nick, if she goes to the authorities, everything we’ve worked on could come crashing down around us. Do you have any idea where she might’ve gone?”
“She won’t go to the authorities,” I replied. “I think I know where she went.”
“Would you like to share? I’m sure you’d rather I find her before one of Fat Tony’s associates does.”
I remained silent, trying to plan my next move.
“Nick?”
“No, Marco. I’ll go find her. I don’t trust anyone but me these days.”
“You’re father will be pissed if you bug out as consigliere, you know?”
“Fuck him.”
“You need to watch your own back, Nick. This deal is big enough for another hit if the family thinks it’s at risk. It’s not just the money; it’s the expanded market they want. We both know that, right?”
“I know, I know,” I snapped. “I’m still regretting letting you talk me into this Marco. If anything happens to Karlie, if one single hair on her head is touched, all fucking bets are off.”
“Hey,” Marco said, “It’s gonna be okay. You know I didn’t have to do that much convincing, right Dominic?”
We ended the call, and I immediately left the union hall, not bothering to let Sal know that I was leaving. Fuck him, too.
Once outside in the crisp autumn afternoon, my driver spotted me, and pulled up to the curb in front.
“Take me to the airport,” I instructed. I picked up my mobile phone and made a flight reservation to Pittsburgh and reserved a car. It was only an hour from Chester, West Virginia, and I couldn’t imagine Karlie going anywhere else.
Walter and Lana’s house wasn’t all that easy to find, even though Roanoke Rapids had a population of less than twenty thousand people. It was in a rural area, off the main drag, between Roanoke Rapids and Elizabeth City. I finally found their mailbox, and started down the long, gravel drive towards the house you couldn’t even see from the road.
I prayed to God that she was home, and that she would be open to my staying with her until I devised a long-term plan. As I rounded a curve in the drive, a two-story house loomed on the horizon. There was a detached three-car garage, a barn of some sorts, and a car parked up near the house. It was a red Mustang; I knew that had to be Lana’s! She’d always said she wanted a Mustang. Apparently, Walter had seen that she got one.
I glanced at my watch. It was only a little after eleven in the morning. I’d made fairly good time for not knowing where the hell I was going.
Just then I heard the squeak of the back door as it opened, and Lana poked her head outside.
“Oh my God!” she shrieked, coming out onto the back stoop in her bathrobe and curlers. “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?” she screamed, waving for me to hurry on up.
“Because I don’t have your phone number, remember?”
I reached the stoop and she wrapped her arms around me. “Oh Lana,” I breathed, “I was so afraid you’d be pissed off when I showed up like this.”
She pulled back, studying my face. “What is it?” she asked, a frown creasing her forehead. “Are you in trouble?”
I had to give her a wry smile at the implication of the words. “In every way possible,” I replied. “Can I stay with you for awhile?”
“Of course you can, sweetie. Come on inside where it’s warm. Walter’s filling in for a judge that’s on vacation. We can have a girl-to-girl talk and you can tell me all about it.”
Over coffee and muffins I spilled the whole story to Lana, leaving nothing out but making her promise not to share the part about the white powdery substance with Walter. I explained it could put my life at risk. She understood completely.