Chapter 2 - Seven Days to Pay $300,000
Frankie slammed the garage office door.
Leo flinched.
“You went to Costa?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus, Frankie.”
“No. Jesus apparently had other appointments.”
She threw the black copy of the debt agreement onto the desk.
“Explain the six extensions.”
Leo stared at it.
“What?”
“You started with fifty thousand.”
His face changed.
Frankie saw the answer immediately.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“Leo.”
“I didn’t know exactly.”
She grabbed the desk.
“What does that mean?”
Leo rubbed his bruised face.
“Anthony kept telling me I could win it back.”
“And you believed him?”
“I was winning at first.”
Frankie laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“Of course you were.”
“He gave me credit.”
“Six times.”
“I thought Costa approved it.”
“Gabriel didn’t.”
Leo looked up.
“You believe him?”
“I believe the look on his face when he saw the paperwork.”
Leo stood.
“We should give them the shop.”
Frankie stared at him.
“Say that again.”
“We can start over.”
“This is Dad’s garage.”
“Dad is dead.”
The room became silent.
Frankie walked toward him.
“Dad spent thirty-two years building this place.”
“And I screwed up!”
Leo shouted it.
The anger vanished from his face immediately.
“I know what I did.”
Frankie looked away.
Leo lowered his voice.
“I thought I could fix everything.”
“With poker?”
“The shop was behind.”
Frankie turned back.
“What?”
Leo sat down.
“Property taxes. Suppliers. The transmission account. I moved money around.”
“How much?”
“Forty-eight thousand.”
Frankie felt sick.
“You gambled because the garage was in trouble?”
“I won twenty thousand the first night.”
“And then?”
“You know the rest.”
She did.
A black SUV stopped outside.
Frankie looked through the window.
Marco stepped out.
“Oh, wonderful.”
“Who is that?”
“Costa’s babysitter.”
She walked outside.
Marco held up both hands.
“I’m not here to cause trouble.”
“Then keep driving.”
“Boss said you might need help.”
“I don't.”
“You know where Russo operates?”
Frankie said nothing.
Marco smiled.
“Thought so.”
Twenty minutes later they stood outside a private club beneath an Italian restaurant.
Frankie looked at Marco.
“You stay here.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
Marco almost smiled.
“You’ve been spending too much time with Gabriel.”
Inside, Anthony Russo recognized Frankie immediately.
“Well.”
He raised his drink.
“The mechanic.”
Frankie approached his table.
“You extended my brother two hundred fifty thousand dollars without authorization.”
Russo shrugged.
“He asked.”
“You knew he couldn’t pay.”
“Not my problem.”
“You knew Gabriel wanted our property.”
Russo's smile disappeared.
“Careful.”
Frankie leaned closer.
“Did Gabriel tell you to do it?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Frankie smiled.
“Thank you.”
Russo frowned.
“For what?”
“For answering the question I actually came here to ask.”
She turned away.
Russo grabbed her wrist.
Marco immediately stepped forward.
Frankie looked down at Russo’s hand.
“Remove it.”
“You walk into my club accusing me—”
“Anthony.”
Marco’s voice was calm.
Russo saw him.
His hand released Frankie.
Marco nodded toward the door.
They left.
Outside, Frankie exhaled.
“That proved nothing,” Marco said.
“It proved Gabriel didn’t order it.”
“You believe Russo?”
“No.”
She looked back at the club.
“But Russo is afraid Gabriel might think he did.”
Her phone rang.
Gabriel.
She answered.
“Are you always this annoying?”
His voice was cold.
“Russo touched you?”
Frankie looked at Marco.
“You’re reporting live?”
Marco shrugged.
Gabriel continued.
“Go home.”
“No.”
“Francesca.”
“I have six days.”
“You have six days to investigate. Not six days to get yourself killed.”
She paused.
“Why do you care?”
Silence.
Then Gabriel said quietly:
May you like
“Because somebody used my name to steal from you.”
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