September 08, 2006

TSOTF, Part 16

Jack walked quickly across the darkening piazza, resisting the temptation to turn and check for the white-haired man he knew was following him. His palms were sweating, and he wiped them on his jeans, scanning the faces of the people he passed. When he turned the corner, big hands grabbed his shirt and pushed him against the rough brick. Jack had less than a second to register his face before he felt the blow to his chest. He slid down on the wall, surprised to find the simple act of breathing so difficult, and fell to the ground.

“Jack McKay is dead,” Coleman said to the others, opening the manila envelope the courier had brought him right before the call came through on his cell. He pulled out the documents he had left with Martin McKay, and his smile broadened to see that Martin had signed them. He was disappointed that Martin had kept the photo that had so enraged him, and briefly contemplated bringing the woman with him, and enjoying her for a few days. Looking at his watch, he knew it was time to call Martin. They had much to discuss. Vincenzo would soon learn of Jack’s death, and he would undoubtedly contact Martin the moment he did.

Fermi paced the floor restlessly, occasionally glancing over at the young woman. He had long ago lost interest in romancing women, but he hadn’t lost his appreciation for beauty. A shame that she must suffer such pain, he thought, remembering how agonizing it was when he had lost his beloved wife. When his cell phone rang, he simply looked at the number of the caller. It was done. He said a silent prayer, and made a call before continuing his vigil.

Martin retched the remainder of his stomach contents, and leaned his head against the cool tile floor. He’d barely avoided being sick while on the phone with Coleman, and Vincenzo had called while he had his head hanging over the toilet. He opened his eyes, staring at his hand on the floor in front of him, the skin pink from being scrubbed. When his cell beeped, he fumbled to pull it from his pants pocket. Fermi.

Posted by *Theresa* at September 8, 2006 04:51 AM

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Comments

Ahhh, so daddy-o offed the boy. Hmmm.

Posted by: oddybobo at September 8, 2006 07:27 AM

Hmm. Jack is dead. The Mrs. is with Fermi. Martin is puking his guts up. Did Martin do it? I guess he could.

Posted by: Wanda at September 8, 2006 11:16 PM

I don't think Jack is actually dead. But I could be wrong...lol!

Posted by: Karin at September 9, 2006 12:40 AM

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