Hearts on Fire 5: Loving Frankie(20)

“She’s brought us closer than we’ve been in years,” Mike whispered.

“Closer? What are you talking about? We’ve fucked women together. How much fucking closer do you want to get?”

Mike charged at Nate and shoved him against the wall.

“You bastard. Don’t you ever compare Frankie to the meaningless sexual partners you’ve had. Even through those you kept your distance. You never gave even an inch of your heart or concern. You fucked them, got off, and walked out. And there weren’t even a handful, never mind a few, so drop the tough-guy shit.” Mike gave him another shove then stepped back as Rye pulled him.

“He’s right, Nate. You’ve never shown real interest in any woman, and I think you are totally interested in Frankie and were just looking for an excuse to push her away,” Turbo told him.

“This is bullshit,” he replied and began to walk inside.

“No, pushing away a woman like Frankie and making hurtful accusations is bullshit. Either you’re in this with us or you’re not. But I won’t allow you to hurt her or make her feel like shit. Like you just did,” Mike said and stormed past him into the house.

“Fuck!” Nate roared and punched the siding.

“We need to talk to Frankie,” Rye said.

“She isn’t going to speak to us or give us anything right now. I’ll call Lure and see if I can get her last name. Then I’ll see what I can find out back at the Station. In the meantime, try not to kill one another and please think of a way to make this right,” Turbo told Nate and then walked away.





Chapter 8




Turbo Hawkins stared at a picture of Frankie in business attire. The Franklin and Hursch Advertising Firm in Chicago displayed a series of group pictures on their website and then another link to top-awarded employees. There she was, Francesca Sonoma, twenty-two years old and the youngest to receive such awards. He took a deep breath and released it. She was a successful businesswoman fresh out of college and appeared, from the descriptions and awards, to be headed to the top of the firm.

What had gone wrong? Why did she give that up? What should he do next? Call the company and ask questions? He felt guilty, as if he were invading her privacy, but Nate was so fearful. Turbo just wanted to provide Nate with some concrete information and reasons to believe that Frankie was being honest with them.

Francesca. God, even her name is sexy and beautiful.

Turbo rubbed his hand along his jaw and looked around the office. Everyone was busy. No one was paying attention to him. He wrote down the phone number to the business and then left his desk and headed outside.

Ten minutes later, a bit of smoozing and after speaking with human resources, he found out that Francesca had left with no warning, no written resignation, and just disappeared. In fact, as he explained he was an investigator the person told him they had a series of paychecks for her that they couldn’t forward because no one knew where she’d disappeared to. He debated about giving his own address and then knew that would be overstepping the boundaries, never mind he didn’t want to push getting more information. The person he was speaking to was giving more info than they should have.

First, he needed to confront Frankie and find out all he could. Everything he was finding out indicated that she’d left Chicago in a hurry and that someone was after her. Was it the ex-boyfriend, the one standing in the way of her letting go and letting them in? Or worse? Was she involved in something bigger, illegal, and trying to run from the law?

That concern led him to calling Nate. Nate had friends across the United States. Nate would find out what kind of trouble Francesca was in, and then they could discuss their next move.

“I’ll look into it. Send me what you have so far,” Nate said, sounding very serious.

Turbo knew Nate felt upset about what had happened earlier with Frankie. But finding out this information made Turbo even more nervous. He ended the call, and the back door opened.

“Hey, Turbo, Buddy was looking for you. Something about a case you’re working on,” Deputy Ronnie Towers said as he held open the back door to the department.

“Okay, great. I was just making a quick call.”

Turbo took a deep breath and tried to submerge the thoughts going through his head. Perhaps Buddy had some insight or could offer some guidance here. Nate might push too far, and they could all lose a chance at making this relationship work with Frankie. He hoped Nate was careful.

He headed down the hallway to find Buddy standing by his desk. He gave a nod. “You okay?”

Turbo nodded back. “What’s up?”

“Well, digging around and having the night shift officers canvas the neighborhood and the block near Prestige paid off. We have two separate witnesses. One across from a small building adjacent to the back door of the police department in Bayline. The other is a block from a warehouse not too far from where Gloria’s body was found. Most importantly, the guy who bailed out Gloria from the police department gave a false name, but Jake had his buddy pulled up the surveillance tapes and then set the picture through the computer system.”

“Who was it? You know?”

“Sal Baletti.”

“Sal Baletti? Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Because he’s a gangster, a thug. He and his entire family operate on old-fashioned mob rules. They’re into smuggling anything and everything under the sun and selling it on the streets and black market. Over the years they expanded from New York and New Jersey with connections in Chicago.”

“Chicago?” Turbo felt that instant pain in his gut. He had to remind himself that Frankie wasn’t involved or even connected to Gloria’s death.

“Yeah, but this team of investigators in a special crimes unit have been investigating Baletti and his associates for years. Did Bryce get you the file? Did you look it over?”

“He told me there wasn’t anything in it. He said it was minor stuff, and the crime unit wasn’t giving up too many details,” Buddy told him.

Buddy squinted at Turbo then around the room to make sure no one could hear.

“He’s not part of this investigation. I don’t know how or why he got his hands on that file first. You look it over yourself and with a clear investigative view. See if anything pops out at you.”

“You have other information?”

“I have a copy of the file right here.” He showed Turbo the folder.

“And?”

“And I scanned through it quickly. What I did notice was the Baletti name that appeared. Sal Baletti was the one who bailed Gloria out of jail. We have no other eyewitnesses who saw Gloria with anyone else but him.”

“So do we go question him?”

“Not yet. I don’t want to tip them off that we’re onto him or his family. We need to be careful. This isn’t just some minor drug operation in Bayline and Treasure Town. This expands to other states, hell across the country. There were a few other names on that list from the investigative team, but they were blacked out. I want to know those names.”

“So what are you going to do to find out?”

“If we can’t gather enough concrete evidence to pull Sal Baletti in for questioning, then I’m going to have to make some calls. Get some favors. I don’t want to have another dead body show up in Treasure Town, so we need to send a message.”

“Agreed. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do.”

“Good. Take a look at the file. Then let’s find out what we can about Gloria’s boyfriend, her friends or acquaintances, and, of course, the Baletti family. Then we’ll take it from there.”

Turbo nodded and took a seat at his desk to prepare to look over the file. His thoughts about Frankie and the trouble she may be in moved to the back of his mind. He’d talk to Nate about it tonight or maybe he’d wait for Frankie after work and confront her himself. His gut clenched, and concern filled his heart. He hoped it all worked out with Frankie. He cared about her already and really felt as though she would be perfect for all of them. He also thought they would be perfect for her, perhaps providing the support and the protection she needed to feel safe and to let her guard down.



* * * *



Sal Baletti was sitting at the card table in the back room of one of his nightclubs. His brother was on the phone with someone, and he didn’t look pleased.

Sal spoke to Chino, one of his main security guys.

“You finished getting your ass beat in poker?”

“Not yet. I feel a good hand coming, Sal,” Chino said, and Sal exhaled a puff of smoke from his cigar then reached for his glass of bourbon, chuckling.

Ralphy dealt the hand but didn’t play. He never was one for gambling. He was a serious guy with psychological problems, specifically violent tendencies, and was an asset to their security and association.

“We have ourselves a potential situation,” Gino stated as he ended his call and looked at Sal.

Sal placed his cards down. “What might that be?”

“You were identified as the individual who bailed Gloria out of jail. You were the last one seen with her.”

“So what? If they question me, I say I was banging her. I fucked her, dropped her off at her place, and came here for a drink with Ralphy and Chino. They’ll vouch for me. We’ll get the bartender to vouch for me being here, too. No sweat.”