Ties That Bind (4 page)

But seclusion held another, more immediate concern for Mitch: if Jimmie was locking the family away for safety it meant he wasn’t doing the intricate deals he was so famous for.  Without deals being made, infiltrating the Vinetti organization was a pointless affair. He’d just wasted nearly four years with Coppell – he had no desire to flitter away more time on something that wouldn’t lead to a successful collar.

And yet, Jimmie Vinetti intrigued him. Markesi rarely made enemies and he was curious to learn the history of the two. Vinetti seemed to be in strong control of his business but he couldn’t even keep his own sister in check. It was an oddly captivating drama that Mitch hated to admit he was finding increasingly entertaining.

His eyes drifted to Jimmie who was whispering to one of his guards animatedly. His anger amused Mitch and caused him to chuckle out loud. Jimmie’s gaze shot to him as if he’d called his name.

“No offense,” Mitch nodded toward the guard, “but your security lacks something to be desired.”

The guard didn’t look offended but, instead, nodded in silent agreement before backing away from the table. He took position a few steps away, his eyes moving to stare into the distance pretending he was no longer paying them any attention.

Jimmie’s eyes focused on him, his body leaning nearly across the table, and Mitch could feel his temper flaring. “Is that why my sister came to you?  She feels our security is lacking?”

“I haven’t a clue why your sister came to me,” he replied steadily, “I’m just observant enough to know that you are putting her life and your own in danger if this is the way you conduct your daily business.”

“You don’t hold back anything, do you?”

“Should I?”

“Maybe,” Jimmie smiled, “maybe not. Honesty can be a welcomed trait.”

“Or a deadly sin,” he responded, smiling genuinely this time. It was line from his childhood, something that Markesi spouted on a regular basis to anyone willing to listen to his late night rambles of honor and loyalty. “It’s a fine line.”

“You know Markesi.”

It wasn’t a question, merely an observation, and Mitch could detect no underlying frustration at the mention of Markesi. Perhaps the street was wrong in its assessment of the Vinetti-Markesi feud. He tilted his head toward the corner where Vitale was standing quietly with a waiter, his hands twisting the edges of his apron in unease. “Vitale’s waiting for us to shoot each other or call for the food.”

“Fool’s probably worried about his damn hardwoods getting stained,” Jimmie laughed but raised his hand to Vitale. He bellowed loudly, his deep voice echoing in the nearly empty restaurant. “Ashli,
vieni sorellina
!  The piccata is getting cold.” He winked Mitch’s direction. “Nothing worse than cold veal.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“Walk with me?”

Mitch nodded and fell into step beside Jimmie. Several paces ahead, Ashli had her arms entwined with the bodyguards. She was leaning from one to the other, whispering in each of their ears. All three were laughing softly.

“She does that to set me off,” Jimmie explained.

“Your men or men in general?”

“I doubt she notices the difference.”

“But you do.”

“Of course. Why haven’t we met?”

Mitch tightened his coat, stalling. That was the question, wasn’t it? The Vinettis were the one family he purposefully steered clear of...but explaining why wasn’t something he was prepared to share. “I could give you a line of shit that’s believable.”

“Or?”

“Or I could just tell you that your family is much more visible than I ever care to be.”

Jimmie stopped, considered for a moment, and then kept walking. “You play it straight. I like that.”

“It's a luxury most people don't have.”

“So you don't need a job?”

“Need?” Mitch shook his head. “No, I don't need a job. I like to stay busy but it's not financially motivated.”

“That allows you a lot of flexibility in choice then,” Jimmie suggested. “And an exorbitant fee, I'd imagine.”

Mitch laughed. “Are we negotiating already?”

“My time is pretty limited these days. I tend to get to the point.”

“Okay then.” He stopped mid-stride. When Jimmie followed suit and turned to face him, Mitch’s eyes darkened. “Your security is in shambles. I walked into your sister's office and could've strangled her before a single guard ever arrived. Your detail is more concerned with gossip about your business dealings than making certain a place is secure. You have hundreds of employees and you don't know the history or background of any of them, even the ones closest to you. Your sister’s fascination with angering you is taking the guards attention away from, for example, the three feds that have been following us since we left the restaurant. Now, whether I help you fix that or someone else does it, for the safety of yourself, your sister and your future business, you need to get it under control.”

Rather than the anger or at least tension he expected, Jimmie merely nodded. “That was a brutal assessment. But the most honest thing I've heard out of anyone's mouth in a decade. Your last employer ended up dead.”

Mitch winced before he could contain it. “Yes.”

“What's to say I don't end up the same?”

“I can't guarantee your life, Jimmie, and if that's what you are looking for then you've come to the wrong place. No one can guarantee something like that. Especially not in the life you've chosen to lead.”

“What happened with Coppell?”

“I wasn't there so I don't know. I do know there was no way anyone could get into that house if he didn't want them in.”

“He knew the killer then? And just let them in?”

“I have no doubt," Mitch nodded. "Your turn. Why did you kill Masseria? And don't tell me it's because he copped a plea.”

“That's not enough?”

“To off someone? Sure. To personally shoot him in the head and then dispose of his pregnant wife? I think not.”

“What makes you think that's what happened?”

“Because your crew can't be trusted.”

Jimmie nodded, moving several paces away to lean against the railing. His voice was soft, requiring Mitch to move closer in order to hear.

“They were going to kill Ashli. Ashli for their freedom. Had the wife take Ashli out for a day of shopping or something in LA. Ashli had no idea she was in danger. If I didn't agree, she never would have made it home. He'd been with me for three years. Three years and the sonuvabitch was threatening my baby sister.”

Mitch could feel the anger rising from Jimmie and he couldn't blame him. Copping a plea was business but bringing his sister into the deal? That went against every rule of
la familia
he'd ever known. “Who all knows?”

“You.” Jimmie glanced his direction then shook his head. “And have no doubt I'll-”

Mitch put a hand up to stop him. “Threatening me isn't necessary. Financial freedom also means my allegiance is my own. Spreading your secrets through
la familia
would offer me no benefit. And, for the record? I would've done the same thing.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“Here.”

Mitch accepted the bottle of beer gratefully, popping it open and washing down a mouthful of pizza. He glanced at the label - Birra del Sole, bottled only in Sicily and not available for export. “How'd you get the Birra past customs? I thought your guy got pinched last month.”

Sonny chuckled as he flipped through the television channels. “Had another guy in within 48 hours. I've got a business to keep stocked, remember?”

Mitch raised his eyes to the television as it settled on CNN, watching but not comprehending the news ticker running along the bottom of the screen. Flashes of war torn areas and even a picture of Coppell moved across the screen. A picture of him, a mug shot, stilled on the screen, his silk tie glowing under the harsh flash from the precinct's cheap camera. Had it really been a week since he got released?  Briefly, he wondered if the world had ended while he was otherwise engaged but then thought better of it. He'd rather just not know. Gray pause lines wrinkled across his image, causing him to take another swig of his beer.

“Not bad. Most guys get yanked out of bed and look like death in their mug shot. You dress for the occasion.”

“Fuck you, Sonny. Is that just now airing?”

“It's been on the local news most of the week. Just hit international last night when there was a problem getting his body through customs for burial.”

Mitch sighed. So that's why Coppell's sister had been calling him all night. He'd ignored her calls. Knowing the cause, he felt a tad guilty. “They get it sorted?”

“Yeah, I think so. Had to have the remains cremated, I think. You talked to Palmese?”

“Not since I got released, no.”

“He doesn't know you're meeting with Vinetti?”

He glanced to the screen, his image still unmoving. Unwilling to hear the lecture he knew would follow about not keeping Gino Palmese in the loop, he shook his head but quickly changed the subject.

“Do you know who killed him?”

“Coppell?” Sonny shrugged. “A dozen people are claiming it. He wasn't known for making friends. But none I'd believe have the balls to do it. Everyone assumed they'd hit you at the same time. I've had my men just start spreading the word you're alive. Got damn tired of playing your answering service.”

“You the one who told Ashli I'd hit the lock up?”

“Not me. Hell, you were out before I knew they'd picked you up,” he chuckled and clicked off the television. “I give you run of the casino and take a quick weekend trip to Vegas. Next thing I know I come back to hear you've been arrested, bailed out and are in bed with the Vinettis.” He shrugged. “Probably one of Ashli's many bedmates told her the news.”

“Bedmates?”

Sonny's eyes narrowed. “You really have secluded yourself, haven't you?  Do you have any clue what's going on with east coast anymore?”

“Keeping tabs on Ashli Vinetti has never been a priority.”

“Well, you're the only one not paying attention. The entire family is watching her like a hawk. Seems she has a proclivity for badges.”

Mitch's ears perked up. “You're kidding.”

“Bedding feds...her latest indulgence. She goes through them faster than Jimmie can keep up.”

Mitch hid his frown. Why wouldn't Mike have told him that?  Wasn't that something that even the IOC would consider important information?  “What's Jimmie doing about it?”

“He offed a few that she was idiotic enough to bring on Vinetti property. Since then she's keeps her conjugal visits limited to distant cities.”

“And he just lets her have her fun?”

“Jimmie always has a plan, kid. Don't underestimate him. But I think he learned quickly that he couldn't off every fed she took to bed.”

“I can't believe the families are so easily persuaded to leave her be,” Mitch shook his head. “Can't she find someone else more willing than a badge?”

“What do you think you're around for?”

Mitch laughed. “She's out of my league, buddy, and I'll be the first to admit it.”

“So is this a long term gig or what?”

“I haven't even decided to work with them. They're a bit disorganized for my tastes. But, no. They just need a security revamp, I think.”

“Are you kidding?  Vinetti's the most organized guy on the east coast. He's managed to get his hands in every kitty. His legitimate businesses alone put us all to shame.”

He grinned. “Do I detect some jealousy there, Sonny?”

“Hell yeah. Last year we were trying to get Senate approval on an insurance deal worth billions. We had everything perfect and then, at the last minute, the bill got tabled. The next day a new bill appears. Identical to ours but naming Diamond Insurance as the provider for government employees. It was passed in less than twenty minutes.”

Mitch chuckled at the audacity of it all. “Vinetti owns Diamond Insurance?” he guessed.

“And apparently over half the trade commission,” Sonny fumed. “Pulled the carpet out from four families all with one phone call.”

“Four?” Mitch raised an eyebrow. “You all were trying to edge out Vinetti?”

“Hell, yes. He's got enough already.”

Sonny grimaced as Mitch fell into deep laughter. “What's so damn funny?”

“I would've done the same thing.”

“You would've take food out of our mouths-”

“Christ, you're not starving, Sonny. You just wanted to be king of the castle. Vinetti saw it and put you back in your place. Hell, how much would anyone respect him if he'd let you get away with it?”

“He aims too high,” Sonny grumbled.

“He aims for Sicily, then? To head the commission?”

“Gino keeps him at arm's length. But, yeah, if Palmese ever retires Jimmie probably wants that too.”

“As do many,” Mitch sighed and leaned back into the cushions. “So are you going to keep trying to undermine him if I go to work there?”