Fedelta 2: Among The Savages

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Warning Language and Violence

As Amato dug up more info on Danny and Destiny, Jimmy was sitting in his cell with Leo when a group of correction officers appeared bringing back Anthony to his cell.  Jimmy stood next to the door and leaned against it like he was looking in the opposite direction.  He heard laughter erupt as Anthony joined his fellow cellmates and family members.  Why were they allowed to be housed in the same cell?  It wasn’t hard to guess that one of the guards was either screwing up on a massive level or was corrupt.  It was no secret that some guards barely made livable wages.  Their lack of compensation made them the weakest link in the prison system.  As Jimmy strained to hear, he felt the breeze as several of the correctional officers quickly walked away.  Once they disappeared, Jimmy heard someone say, “Did you tell em what we told ya?”

“Yeah.” Was the response.  “They bought it, I think.”

“Good, we don’t need them knowing everything.”

Interested, Jimmy listened on, “Just make sure Danny and his bitch gets thrown under the bus.”

“Good riddance” Jimmy heard another person say.

“Yeah, sorry son of a bitch, at least he got Stephano and we didn’t have to start a war but Fenetti is still alive and she was part of the deal.  Punk ass, can’t even kill a broad.  I bet you if you gave Destiny that gun, she would’ve whacked ’em both.”

“Shame, we hired the wrong gun.”

“Pfft.”

Jimmy couldn’t believe what he was hearing, these guys weren’t Allunis, they were Cosimos!  It all made sense, the Cosimos wanted revenge and so they went to Stephano’s second in command, Danny.  They had it all wrong, Danny wasn’t gunning for his boss’s position, the Alunni wouldn’t have tolerated the betrayal.  Instead, Danny had joined the other team!  Jimmy had to get out of there and warn Amato.  However, before he could do that, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, his cellmate charging right towards him and before he could react, Jimmy was knocked unconscious.  As his limp body lay on the floor, all hope for Cassie was lost.

Fedelta 2: Race Against The Clock

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Warning: Strong Language and Content

As Cassie’s life hung in the balance, Amato was turning up the heat on the thugs they arrested in the bistro raid.  To his surprise they brought in a familiar face, and it was just the thing this case needed.  Anthony Vello, was a mob associate with no loyalties, in essence, he was a rat and not a very smart one.  Anthony used to loan shark, and steal for his bosses but he got caught up too many times in the system.  It did something to him, he wasn’t the hardass he used to be.  Prison will do that to a man, and now that he was pushing his fifties, he was most likely terrified of doing time.  Amato personally watched as members of the Cosimo family would refer to him as Big Pussy, that character from the Sopranos.  It had to irk him a little if not, infuriate Anthony, after all, he took many for the team.  Amato wondered, if he would still protect his bosses?  There was only one way to find out, leaning back in his chair, Amato, began the interrogation, “State your name for the record.”

Crossing his arms, he said, “Ant-nee Vello”

“Mr. Vello, have you been informed as to why you’re here?”

“Yeah, they said summin’ bout a murder.” Anthony answered then began laughing.

“Mr. Vello, what’s so funny?”

Trying to straighten his face, Anthony answered, “U’s guys, are trying to set us up.”

“Mr. Vello I can assure you no one here is trying to set you up.”

“Oh yeah, then how come that bitch Destiny ain’t here wit us?”

“Destiny who?” asked Amato.

“Stephano’s broad.”

Now he was getting somewhere, intrigued Amato asked, “Does this Destiny have a last name?”

“I don’t remember, they said she used to do tricks at the Sapphire Club on 9th.  Damn shame, she told Stephano she was some sort of model.  Pfft.” He said rolling his eyes and chuckling, “She had him hypnotized or summin’.”  Taking notes, Amato was going to be sure to look this up in the database.  If what Anthony was saying was true, this Destiny chick had to have been booked for prostitution at some point, but that was only if he was telling the truth.

Amato had reason to believe that Anthony was only playing the game, just to keep his head above water.  There was so much more that he knew and was part of but Amato had to stay focused, Cohen said he wanted answers and so he was going to get them.  “Who else is working with Destiny?” he asked.

“Dunno.” Anthony answered.

“Bullshit!” Amato said after rolling his eyes. “If you think I’m gonna believe that some stripper is shot calling you’re out of your mind.”

“Believe what you wanna, I said enough.” And he was right, Anthony threw Amato enough crumbs to distance himself from the murder charges.  Hell, at this point he couldn’t even get him on conspiracy charges.  So Amato pushed, “It’s common knowledge that women aren’t allowed in the mob.”

Not impressed with Amato, Anthony said, “What can I say, it’s a new day.”

Losing his patience Amato growled “Who called the hit?”

“I dunno.”
“So you’re taking orders from ‘dunno’.  Amato said shrugging his shoulders in an over exaggerated way. “Come Anthony, you can do better than that.”

“Can I have a lawyer?” Anthony said, ending the interview.  It was like a bucket of cold water for a detective but he wasn’t a cop, he was an agent and agents had more leeway when interviewing suspects.  “Okay, Anthony you can see a lawyer but these processing papers are tricky for us to hang on to. You know what I mean?”  Confused Anthony just looked on while Amato started packing up his things.  “If something were to happen to these papers, well, nobody’s gonna know where to put you in the jail.”  This was a vague threat and Anthony didn’t take it lightly. If he ended up in the wrong cell block that could mean death.  His brother was killed while being processed at Ricker’s Island.  As he stood in line waiting to be given his bedding and toiletries, he was stabbed in the neck by a Cosimo who just happened to be in the next line.  “God damit, it ain’t never enough for u’s.  What more do you want?”

“No you didn’t.”

After that the only sound in the room was the buzzing from the clock on the wall.  Amato noticed Anthony breathing really hard as he struggled to stay loyal to his boss.  Fixated on his face, Amato watched the anguish of a man who had to finally stand on his own.  No bosses, no crew, no help.  As his walls shattered, Anthony covered his face with his hands and took a deep breath, “If I say anything, I want immunity.”

“I swear, if you give us the boss, you won’t have to face the death penalty.”

“Aiight, Danny Marchesi, ordered the hit on Stephano and Cassandra.”

Standing up, Amato said in his most professional voice, “Thank you for your cooperation in our investigation, I’ll be sending you back to holding until we work something out with the DA.”  Seeing Anthony’s body almost deflate as he realized what he was really doing, Amato repeated his promise, “If you testify, you will most likely be put in witness protection and you won’t have to worry about retaliation.” Not like it mattered to him, the life that Anthony knew before was over, no matter how things turned out.  Amato couldn’t bring any comfort to him because there wasn’t anything he could do.  All he could do right now was find Danny and Destiny before they carried out their hit.  That’s if they didn’t do it already.  Amato knew the pressure was on both Danny and Destiny to flee New York and they were most likely heading off to some country without an extradition treaty.  No matter how he looked at it, time was running out for Cassie.

Fedelta 2: Memories Of St. John

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As Cassie tried to fight her way back to consciousness, she forced herself to open her eyes.  When she did a shooting pain griped the left side of her head.  She moaned in agony and writhed in pain in the chair.  Taking a deep breath, she found it hard to inhale because of a broken nose.  Tilting her head just a bit made her see stars from the concussion she received when she hit the concrete floor of the basement.  It took a long while for her to get her bearings, but when she did she recognized exactly where she was.  Cassie also remembered who was responsible for her current predicament.  Even in her weakened state, her first thought was revenge.  At least the beatdown didn’t kill her spirit even though it was slowly killing her body.  She forced herself to not focus on the pain, instead, throwing all her mental energy into figuring out an escape.  Things didn’t look good for her, they had zip tied both arms and legs to a chair and duct tape was fixed across her mouth.  She couldn’t make a sound, let alone move, which was going to make escaping difficult at best.  The only thing she could hope for right now was for Amato and the Feds to swoop in and rescue her but that was unlikely.  Law enforcement was always a day late and a dollar short when it came to these sorts of things.  She never thought in a million years that she would prefer jail to a bullet in the head but she had something to live for.  Now it was up to her mentally challenged heroes in blue to find her and save her.

The more she thought about it, the more hopeless it felt.  Her arms were beginning to feel numb from the lack of circulation and a part of her wanted this to all be over with.  As her thoughts turned dark, Cassie wondered was there a special prayer you were supposed to say before you were murdered?  The Catholics always had a saint for everything stemming from; illness, employment, and even betrayal.  She remembered her father having a medallion of St. John of the Cross, who was the patron saint of betrayals.  Though he rarely went to church, he took the whole saints and angels thing seriously.  He had medallions and even prayer books all dedicated to the saints.  What was the point, Cassie asked her brain which brought up the memory? None of this brought any comfort to Cassandra who felt like the clock was ticking away.  What if this was her time?  Well she thought. at least she went down fighting like a soldier in a war where the enemies and battlefield were always changing.  It was a miracle she lasted this long.  Yet there was still a piece of her that wanted to live just to stick it to her enemies.

Fedelta 2: In The Belly Of The Beast

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When they got to the station downtown, they were allotted an interrogation room to conduct business.  Before they started on their first suspect, Jimmy disappeared to do his part in the investigation.  As the officers brought in their first suspect, Amato watched as they cuffed him to the chair.  After he was settled, Amato began to read his file aloud in front of him, “Gianvanni Polenzi, 53, Brooklyn Heights.  Says here; burglary, armed robbery, assault, and attempted murder which you are still awaiting trial.  Tisk, tisk.” Throwing the file on the conference table, he sat up in his chair and looked him dead in the eye and said, “I’m not gonna bullshit you, if you aren’t careful, you’ll be putting yourself right in the middle of a murder investigation.  You don’t want that, considering you’re already about to be put on trial for another murder.  You see, judges and juries don’t like psychopaths.”  Gianvanni rolled his eyes in front of him, pissing off Amato. “Look shit stain, I’m gonna find out where your boss is and when I do, I’ll be sure to send you all first class to hell.”  Not impressed, Gianvanni stared at him, defiant and silent.

As Amato was going through the proper channels, Jimmy was going the alternate route and suiting up to go undercover in the holding area.  Using his tools of the trade, he went to what was called, the green room, an area where officers went to transform themselves, kind of like a Hollywood dressing room.  Inside were wigs, prosthetics, and makeup.  Having decided on a more ethnic look, Jimmy grabbed a kufi, a type of headwear which some Muslims used as a sign of persecution.  He has worn this disguise before so the jailers and some of the regular inmates would be familiar with him.  He needed that credibility.  The mafiosos he was dealing with were old hats and could smell a cop a mile away.  If they were suspicious, that could put his life in danger.  He had heard stories of undercovers being stabbed in the neck, and one being thrown from a second story floor and onto a commissary area.  He wasn’t gonna let that happen to him.  So he put the kufi on his head, and began his transformation into someone who could blend in seamlessly.  As he looked into the mirror he saw his face was missing something, and so gave himself a scar on the left cheek.  When he was done, he looked different enough to move through the jail population without setting off any alarms.  All he had to do was put on his baggy, hunter green pants and white t-shirt and he was all set.  When he was done, Jimmy signaled for one of the rookies to escort him to his new abode, next to the Alunni thugs and began surveillance.

As the door slid open, Jimmy noticed he would be cohabitating with another inmate.  He was a scruffy, and thin tattooed man.  Studying his face, Jimmy ascertained that he was in his forties or late thirties.  His face looked worn and the gang tattoos didn’t help him look any younger or healthier.  As soon as the door slammed behind him, Jimmy began unpacking, “Whaddaya in for?” asked the tattooed man.  “Armed robbery,” Jimmy answered. “Oh yeah, note or gun?” the man asked.  This was a way inmates tested newbies, it was their way to gauge how dangerous an individual was.  It was also for bragging rights.  The more violent the crime, the more impressive you seemed.  Although Jimmy wasn’t looking to be a seen as a serial killer, he also didn’t want to be seen as a punk, so he answered, “Gun.”  Unfurling his sheets and blanket, Jimmy began making his bed while the man continued checking him out.  “What crew ya ride wit?”

“Me, myself and I,” Jimmy responded.

The man laughed at the response and said, “Betta watch out, the fools up in here are all cliqued up.”

“Yeah?” Jimmy asked.

“Yep, they dropped off two mafia dudes next door a few hours ago.”

As he tucked in the sheets and blanket, he declared, “I just mind my own damn business and do my time.  I’ll be okay, this ain’t my first rodeo.”

Intrigued the man asked, “So you an OG (original gangster), huh?”

Snickering, Jimmy smiled then said, “Yeah, I’m a veteran.”

“What’s your name?”

“Jeremiah”

“Leo, like the lion.”

“Okay Leo, what’s the deal with these mafia dudes?”

“Dunno maaaan,” he said looking rather uncomfortable.

Jimmy figured, he wasn’t be truthful but if he was going to get the truth from him he needed to earn Leo’s trust.  But how was he going to make that happen?  His answer came twenty minutes later when the guards started delivering dinner straight to the cells. Since most of the inmates on the cell block were considered the worst of the worst, they had to eat inside their cells.  They were too dangerous to have running around free, however, the drug addicts, dealers and thieves were allowed to have dinner outside their cells.

When Jimmy got his meal, he had no clue what it was.  Inspecting it with the plastic fork, he cut a small piece off and sniffed it.  “What the hell is this?” Jimmy exclaimed at something grey covered in a thin brown sauce.  “It’s Salisbury steak.”

“You shitting me?”

“Nah man, it ain’t that bad, all ya gotta do is dip it in your mash potatoes and it cancels the whole thing out.”

Even though he was starving, Jimmy wasn’t that hungry and so he offered his tray to his new cellie.  Without even looking, Leo grabbed it and placed the tray next to his on the bed and continued chowing down.  Jimmy wasn’t sure if he was an addict or homeless by the way he ate.  Since he was gaunt looking, Jimmy assumed addict, so he began to casually ask questions.  “So Leo, what are you in for?”

“Like you, armed robbery.”

However, Jimmy wasn’t buying it, “Yeah, bank or store?”

“Neither, I robbed some old bitch in front of the 7-twelve.”

That sounded like a junkie move but Jimmy didn’t say anything, he needed Leo to like him, like him enough to talk to him.  Continuing the conversation, Jimmy asked, “Gun or knife?”

“Nope, copper pipe.” He said talking with his mouth full.  As he took a sip of his little milk, he began laughing, “That old bag didn’t see it coming.  I mean WHACK!” he said while reenacting the crime, “She was on her ass before she knew what was going on.”  Jimmy felt the hairs on his neck stand up when he realized Leo was a psychopath.  Faintly, he laughed right along with Leo and even encouraged him, “I bet she was shocked as shit?”

“Yep.  And funny thing is, she kinda looked like my aunt Ronnie.” He said loudly as tiny particles of food flew out of his mouth.  This wasn’t going to be pretty, if he was going to get Leo to talk, he needed to get on his level.  It was quite a distance to stoop but Leo didn’t seem all that dangerous—now.  If Jimmy could keep him entertained, he knew he could get Leo to spill any secrets he may have.  Boredom and a personality disorder were things he could work with, he was an awesome interrogator, all Jimmy needed was an angle.

As Jimmy was wondering about his next move, two guards appeared next door and announced that they were taking both inmates to homicide.  Homicide?  This was confusing to Jimmy, was Fenetti dead?

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Fedelta 2: Salvation

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When help began arriving, Jimmy briefed both the agents and police on weapons, as well as the layout of the building and the amount of people in the building.  As they were devising a plan to raid the building and rescue Cassandra, Cohen, finally arrived to take charge or at least pretend to.  Jimmy kept his mouth shut as he watched Einstein repeat what was said by the senior officers all while acting like it was his idea.  Feeling the effects of the taser, Jimmy assumed the adrenaline was finally wearing off.  His head hurt and his ribs ached every time he took a deep breath.  Determined to see this mission through, he sucked it up, he wasn’t about to let Cohen screw any of this up.  If he so much as saw him going left, Jimmy would be there to knock him back right.

Just as these thoughts entered his head he saw out of the corner of his eye, a white Kia.  “Oh thank God,” Jimmy said out loud.  Finally, he didn’t feel so alone.  Seeing Amato’s face as he pulled up and park three cars down, Jimmy went up to meet him.  As he got to the car he noticed the gentleman in the back.  “I’ll fill you in later,” he said before Jimmy could even ask.  Seeing Amato, Special Agent Cohen marched right toward him, “I thought I dismissed you, Agent,” he declared.

“Yeah, about that” Amato said closing the door to the Kia, “I ran into someone really interesting”.  Walking right past Cohen, he went up to an old grizzly vet from the force, and asked him to keep an eye on the suspect in the backseat. “What are you doing?” Agent Cohen asked rather annoyed.

“I’m about to go into enemy territory,”

“No, you’re not!”

“We’re going to wait on SWAT to raid the building, capture Fenetti, and whatever else is crawling around in that cesspool.”

“It’ll take forever for SWAT to show, you know that, that’s why I have my little passport right here,” he said pointing to Devon, the man in the back seat.

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing but you’re not going in there!”

“Cohen, the suspect has offered to assist in our investigation and can literally get us in the front door.” The sergeant in charge heard the argument between Amato and Cohen, and his interest was piqued.

“No! We’re doing it my way!” Cohen insisted.  However, when the sergeant glared at him, Cohen had to change his tune.  The police were the ones who would have to approach and breech, not the FBI.  Cohen may have been in charge of the manhunt but he wasn’t in charge of anything else.  This became abundantly clear when the Sergeant called all his officers together and began to ask for some spare vests.  Handing them to Amato, he in turn offered his gratitude.  Going back over to his car, he opened the back door and handed the other vest to Devon.  As Amato uncuffed him, he instructed Devon to put it on under his shirt and to zip his hoodie.  Amato in turn put his vest on and buttoned up his jacket then put his gun in his front pocket.  While he dressed, Jimmy briefed him on the best place to enter and where exactly the basement was.

When he was done, Amato slapped Jimmy on the shoulder and saw him wince.  “Get checked out, Jimbo.”

“Thanks mom, but I got some unfinished business first.”

Smiling, Amato turned around and signaled for Devon to step out of the car.  He wasn’t afraid of Devon running away because he had over a dozen officers with guns waiting to pounce if he tried anything shady.  Nobody was in the mood to screw around.  “Come on Devon, time’s a wasting.”  Amato said while several officers and agents began to circle the neighborhood to block off the bistro.  Once Amato and Devon were in, they would block off the street and sidewalk.  Beads of sweat began pouring down Devon’s face.  Amato tried to calm him down and said, “You don’t have to do anything but get me through the front door, after that, you can walk away.”

“Aiiight.” Devon responded.

Knowing that the Alunnis would be guarding this place like a pack of wolves after Jimmy’s escape, Amato, knew he had to play it cool.  Paranoia and gangster didn’t go well together.  That’s why every cop car and law enforcement officer stayed out of sight forming a net around the block.  Amato would have to approach the building without any protection outside of his vest.  If he was having seconds thoughts, it was already too late because within two minutes they were right at the door of Matteo’s Bar & Bistro.  When Devon hesitated, Amato nudged him with his shoulder.  Slowly, Devon extended his hand and wrapped twice on the door.  Immediately, the antique wooden door opened and an old man’s head popped out.  Devon made up some story about needing to see Danny and before you knew it, the door swung wide open.

Stepping inside, Amato looked around and noticed the place was deserted.  There was no indication that there was anything unusual going on, no goons, no guns, no nothing.  Going over to a corner booth, Amato sat down with Devon and gave him his walking papers, “Okay Devon, you did your job, now beat it.” Without a word, Devon got up and left the bistro before anything jumped off.  When the old guy finally disappeared, Amato got up and started snooping around.  If caught, he would simply say he was looking for the men’s room.  As Amato went towards the kitchen, he noticed a hallway to his left and so naturally, he followed it.  The carpet was a taupe color and on it, was what appeared to be blood stains.  Instinctively, he reached for his gun and knelt down to see the blood was fresh.  “Jesus!” Amato said quietly.  Following the trail, he was led to a door much like the one Jimmy described and when he opened it, he saw the stairs leading down.  He had found the basement.  Though he didn’t want to, he followed it all the way down and found it completely empty.  No Cassie, and more importantly, no Danny.  Getting on his phone, he called Cohen, “They’re gone” he said, disappointed.

As soon as he reported back, the cops did their job and swarmed the joint.

The police did a sweep of the building nonetheless as Amato, and Jimmy stood in the basement astonished that the Alunni moved so quickly.  “They might be a small crew, but they’re good.” Amato said.  “Too good,” Jimmy said, “I was gone for less than a half hour and they picked up and found another location, right under our noses.”

“Sounds like they had a plan B.” Amato answered.
Stomping down the stairs with his gray trench coat flapping in the wind, Cohen yelled, “How the hell did this happen?”

“They must’ve got the drop on us somehow,” Amato replied.

“I want answers and I want them on my desk before the end of the day.”

A police officer interrupted their discussion, “Excuse me Special Agent Cohen, what do you want us to do with the suspects we found on the property?”

“Take ‘em downtown and hold ‘em.”

Taking their cue, Amato and Jimmy followed the cops to their cruisers and saw there were about 4 men, all of them middle aged and unlikely to be of any help.  These guys had been in the game too long, and both Jimmy and Amato knew they were hardcore gangsters.  They wouldn’t give anything up even with the threat of prison.  Nonetheless, they had to try and so off they went downtown to get answers.

Fedelta Book 2: Putting In An Order

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Warning: Language

As Cassandra slept, Amato and Jimmy were reuniting in Central Park after losing their tailgaters, “Hey long time, no see, asshole,” Jimmy joked.

“Come on, we gotta keep moving.  You dumped your car, right?”

“Yeah, it’s all the way on 9th and Broadway, probably getting towed as we speak.”

“You’re brilliant, for an old fucker,” Amato said, knowing the police will be searching that area for them, Jimmy just bought them at least half a day.

“Cohen doesn’t have the resources to track you and Fenetti plus the assassins.”

“I hope you’re right, goomba” said Amato uncertain.

They both walked to the other side of the park and to the train station on 3rd.  He had a plan to get another car and Jimmy probably wasn’t going to like it, which is why Amato was keeping it a secret.  He didn’t need Jimmy throwing a fit, not now.  Walking down the street, they came across an old fencer who ran a chop shop parading as an auto part store.  The moment Jimmy saw Amato’s right foot cross over onto the property he exclaimed, “Whoa, whoooa, whooa, you got to be crazy!”

“Come on, we need a car, and you know Desi’s got one.”

“Yeah but he’s a weasel.  Who’s to say he won’t snitch and get us killed?”

“He’s not snitching on nobody, just trust me.”

Reluctantly Jimmy followed Amato into the shop and cringed at the sound of the bell on the door.  “Nice ambiance, assholes,” Jimmy said under his breath as he batted the stupid chain that hung from the door.

“Behave,” Amato warned.

Holding his tongue Jimmy played along with this farce, while his gut told him this was not going to go well.  Hearing that there was a customer in the shop, the owner himself, Desi Fostino, appeared in a dirty apron and even dirtier hands which he was trying to clean off with a red rag.  Though he looked like you’re typical middle aged, Italian man, he was one of the most notorious car thieves in New York.  “Can I help ya’s?” he asked without bothering to look up.

“Yeah, I’d like to place an order for a 2014 La Crosse, no frills, just candy apple red.” Amato replied.

Snickering, Desi, continued to get the grime out from under his finger nails without bothering to look at them, “I dunno what you’s guys heard, but I don’t play tha…” Amato stopped him by grabbing his grease rag.

“Hello Desi, remember me?” Stunned, all the old man could do was nod.

“Look I don’t want any trouble, we run a clean business here,” he said trying to appeal to Amato.  Snorting Jimmy wasn’t having any of it, “You neva, run a clean business Desi, just look at ya.”  Not wanting to scare Desi too much, Amato rephrase his request, “Desi, I need a car with new plates, can you do it?”

“Ye, yeah!” he said shaking in his sneakers.

“Good, what ya got in inventory?”

“Three Corollas and a Kia Optima.”

“I want to borrow the Kia for a few hours, is it ready to roll?”

Nodding his head yes, Desi said, “I’ll go get the remote.”

“Thank you.” Amato said, while staring him dead in the eye intentionally making him uncomfortable.

As they waited, there was a television on the wall broadcasting the 6 o’clock news.  To their dismay, they were already broadcasting the murder as well as the security footage.  As their day went from bad to worse, they even posted a composite sketch of Cassandra Fenetti, along with her name, age and last known whereabouts.  She was labeled a person of interest as well as a suspect brandishing a weapon at police.  “Geesh!” Amato said angrily.  Jimmy watched stunned by the carelessness of the local police.  “This isn’t gonna end well,” he declared.

Rubbing his jaw, Amato looked like he was ready for a fight.  Slamming his fist onto the counter, he said through gritted teeth, “Son of a bitch!  They shit all over this investigation just like I knew they would.”  Hearing the banging of Amato’s fist, Desi came out of the back in a hurry, “I’m hurrying as fast as I can,” he said doing his best to get them out of his store. Throwing the remote to the Kia on the counter, Desi expected a look of contentment however instead he got an icy stare from Amato who scooped up the remote.  Sensing the anger, Desi took a step back and said, “It’s out in the back, please, just go.  I don’t want anyone seeing this, they’ll think I’m a rat.”

“Too late,” Jimmy answered, not able to resist.

Following Amato out the front door, he inexplicably turned his head and saw Desi turning off the television.  It was too little too late, the damage had already been done.  Amato was now on the warpath, and he knew nothing would stop him from finding Cassandra Fenetti, even if it was only to rub Cohen’s face in it.  This was becoming personal, but when it came to Cassandra and Amato, it was always personal.  He felt like a third wheel, but he had to look out for his friend and colleague.  There was bad blood in the ranks when it came to Amato.  There were still some who believed he couldn’t be trusted, considering since his return, seven agents were arrested for having ties to the Cosimo family.  This benefited only Fenetti, and her new crew the Alunni, she and Stephano had to purge and consolidate their power.  What better way than to get rid of all the back stabbers and make a public statement?  Amato looked like a foolish lover who got tossed like a piece of trash in the end by an ambitious mafiosa.  It wasn’t right and Jimmy wanted to help restore Amato’s reputation not to mention his career.  He watched too many people get steamrolled by Cohen and wanted to put an end to it.

As they walked around the building to the back, Amato reached for his gun as they turned the corner.  Following suit, Jimmy reached for his as well.  Creeping slowly around the corner, they were both relieved to find nothing but a white Kia Optima parked in parking lot amongst some other beat up looking cars.  Using the remote Amato disarmed the alarm system, and unlocked the doors.  Inspecting the car for defects, he listened to the hum of the engine to be sure it purred just right.  He also looked at the plates on the car and they were New York license plates to his satisfaction.  “Smiling, Jimmy said, “Looks like Desi delivered.”  Amato simply nodded his head, still pissed off from the unwelcomed media coverage.   Jimmy could see the intensity in his gaze and knew he was already planning the next move.

Fedelta Book 2: Hardball

Fedelta 2 Second Excerpt

Meanwhile across town, Detective Amato was back in his cubicle with the other detectives in the financial crimes unit.  It was his own personal nightmare, a desk job  he had to do from a shoe box but at least he had a job.  In the last year, he went from fugitive, to being welcomed back into the fold and it was all a complete mystery to him.  Well not really, he knew that someone called in a favor and he was let back into the force through the cat flap.  Amato managed to keep his nose to the grind and keep out of trouble but it was secretly killing him.  He wanted more and Amato wasn’t even sure if this is how he wanted to live his life.  Looking at spreadsheets and nitpicking over ledgers was not what he dedicated himself to at the academy.  It was pathetic, he didn’t even have a gun anymore.  The last time he discharged his firearm was when he was taking the marksmanship test.  He felt like a dog that had been neutered, a ball-less wonder.  Okay, maybe it wasn’t the gun that was bothering him so much.  Maybe it was the fact that he knew that the only reason why he was back on the force was because of Cassandra Fenetti.  The woman who he owed his newly resurrected career to and the woman he wanted dead for betraying him.

With blurry eyes, he did his best to read the rows and columns of financial data that graced the screen.  His job was to flag any inconsistencies and send the documents off to his supervisor.  Rinse and repeat, all the day long.  It was soul crushing for a man who was used of being out in the field taking risks and chasing bad guys.  He didn’t know how long he could take this, in fact, he had already started looking for another job in another town.  There had to be someone, somewhere, who needed a cop?  As his mind wondered off, his boss, Agent Nicholson, yelled from his office, “Amato, get in here.”  Startled, he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to exit his work station, God he couldn’t wait until this day was over.

Once in the office, he noticed Supervisory Special Agent Cohen from the Organized Crime Unit was sitting across from his boss’ desk.  “Shut the door,” Nicholson ordered.  Doing as he was told, Amato shut the door and approached the desk.  Pointing to a folding chair, his boss commanded, “Take a seat.” Once seated, Cohen addressed Amato, “There was a hit this morning on Columbus Avenue and 96th Street.  Double homicide, both males.”  On the desk was a folder which he reached into and pulled out several photos of two men in a vehicle, shot multiple times.  Handing them over to Amato, he asked, “Recognize, the vics?”

Stunned, Amato answered, “Yes, the male behind the wheel is Lucus Hobbs, driver for Stephano Rimaldi, the very dead gentleman in the backseat.”

“Right,”  Cohen said as he pulled out a tablet and handed it to Amato, “Press play.” Doing as instructed, a grainy surveillance video played the final moments of the unlucky occupants in the car.  “This is overkill” Amato remarked as he saw four men shooting at the vehicle.  He watched as the assassins fled the scene and the patrolman approached the vehicle.  Pressing stop, Cohen corrected him saying, “No, keep going.”  Not certain as to what he meant, Amato pressed play again and watched as Cassie appeared in camera range.  “Recognize the female?”  Cohen asked.

Hesitantly, Amato answered, “Yes, it’s Fenetti, Cassandra Fenetti.  She’s the fiancé of Rimaldi.”

“Interesting,” Cohen said staring at Amato.  “Those of us in homicide would appreciate any assistance you can offer in our little investigation.”

“Of course,” Amato replied.

“We’re looking for the female suspect,”

“Suspect?”

“She couldn’t have done this.”

“No, we don’t believe she’s the mastermind of the hit, but she did threaten an officer with a weapon and we would like to talk to her.”

Chuckling, Amato answered, “Good luck finding her, let alone getting her to talk.”

“Yeah about that,” Cohen said sitting back in his chair, “We want you to lead the fugitive task force.”

“Wait, what?” Amato exclaimed, “This is the wrong way to approach the case.”

Smirking, Cohen looked at Amato, “It’s not your call.”

“I’ll provide intel but I’m not leading any task force.  It’s a waste of time.”

“Why?”  Cohen asked.

“Because she’s probably halfway to Timbuktu already.”

“Are you saying you can’t do it?”

“I’m saying she’s one of the richest women in this town and it will be a million times harder to trace her than she was before.”

Questioning his loyalty Cohen asked, “Why should we believe you?  Word is you had a relationship with Fenetti during your excursion away from the force.”

A rush of heat hit Amato’s face from the insinuation that he was protecting some girlfriend.  Nonetheless, he took a deep breath and as calmly as he could, Amato responded, “I stepped in to protect a witness when our agency was unable.  There was never any inappropriate relationship between myself and Miss. Fenetti.”  He kept referring to her by her last name to keep his distance emotionally but also to show that he was not on friendly terms with her which, at that point, he wasn’t.

“If you don’t trust me, then find another agent to do the job.  Problem solved,” Amato said, calling Cohen’s bluff.

“I don’t like your attitude, no wonder they put you in the shitter.”

“Hey!” Nicholson interrupted, “I run this shitter and right now I’m flushing you right back to OC (Organized Crime).”

Without a word, Cohen stood up and gathered his tablet as well as his folder and walked out of the office.

“God, I hate those guys.” Nicholson said with disgust.

‘Yeah, me too.”

“You’re dying to get back in OC ain’t ya?”

“Yep,” Amato said as he stood up.

“So what was all that, I’m not the guy for the job shtick?”

“I’m gonna make them beg.”

Rolling his eyes, Agent Nicholson said, “Get the hell out my office.”

Fedelta Parte 17: Misplaced Faith

Fedelta Part 17-
Image via Pixabay

When Cassie got to apartment, she was startled to see that Amato was nowhere in sight. He must be sleeping, Cassie thought to herself. Putting the groceries on the kitchen counter, she took off her jacket and began looking for a solo cup to put her cereal and milk into. As she munched down she reached for yesterday’s paper and out of it slipped a piece of paper. Picking it up, Cassie noticed it was a legal document of some sort. Curiosity killed the cat and she read it, to her shock it was a will, Amato’s will. It read:

I Jonathan Amato of Brooklyn, New York, revoke my previous wills and condicils and declare this to be my last will and testament.
Article I
I am married to Irene Butler and all references in this will to my spouse are references to Irene.
Article II
I direct that all my just debts; funeral expenses and expenses of my final illness be first paid from my estate.
Article III
All remaining tangible properties shall be distributed to Irene. If Irene is unwilling or unable to accept this property then it shall be distributed to my favorite charity Blue Heroes.

Cassie’s hands trembled, she had forgotten about Irene. Were they still married? How could that be? He told her that…

Immediately Cassie’s face burned with anger as she realized she had fallen for the oldest trick in the book, the old: I’m gonna leave my wife bullshit. If she didn’t have a head wound, she would’ve slapped herself silly for being so naïve. Hearing Amato starting to stir in the next room, Cassie tucked the will back into the newspaper, pretending that nothing happened. As she sat there mindlessly munching on her generic Cheerios that she purchased at the gas station, Cassie wondered what was the point of risking her life for someone who wasn’t on the up and up with her? Maybe she had fallen for the blue uniform, many women do. She of all people should have known better, cops are no better than the mob. Maybe years spent amongst the mafiosos made her desperate to believe in something or someone good.

As Amato made his entre into the kitchen area, Cassie remained silent as she bitterly ate her crap breakfast. In only his sweatpants and tank top, he yawned his way over to the stool in front of her. Seeing the newspaper, he pushed it over to the side and grabbed the box of cereal and looked at it, “Ah Cherrios, nice choice,” he said.
Not able to contain herself anymore, Cassie said without any emotion, “When were you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?”

Grabbing the newspaper Cassie shook it and out came the will. “You said you and Irene were through.”
Rubbing his jaw, Amato said, “We were but…”
“But what?” she growled, throwing the paper down in front of him knocking over her cup of cereal.

“It’s not easy ending a marriage Cassie.” He said completely defeated. “I loved Irene once upon a time and I owed it to her to at least try to fix our relationship!” It was an honorable answer but it stung nonetheless. “Jesus John, where’s your wedding ring?” she asked outraged.
Pulling it out of his pocket, he stuck it in her face. “What do you take it off when you want to get a girl in bed?” she yelled.
“I took it off when she filed for divorce three months ago!” He yelled back at her. “Three months ago? That was when…”
“That was when you happened!” he shouted.
Stunned all Cassie could say was, “Oh.”
“Oh?” You turn my life upside down and all you got to say is “Oh?”

She could sense he was holding back and so she finished it for him, “If it wasn’t for me, you and Irene would still be together, huh?” Looking away, Amato’s silence condemned him. Not knowing whether to feel flattered or guilty, she did the Catholic thing and went straight with the guilt. “Sorry,” she said softly as though someone had died.
“Don’t be, most cops get divorced,” he informed her, then to her surprise, he hooked her chin with his finger and lifted her face kissing her. “When I saw you two years ago, I knew I was done. I thought I could be professional and play the role but I was just a chump.” Kissing her again he continued, “Irene knew something was up but if I told her the truth, it would’ve killed her. I mean what else was I gonna do, tell her that I fell in love with a mafia princess?”

“Yeah but…” Cassie said breathless. Pressing his finger to her lips he shushed her, “I couldn’t tell her our marriage was a mistake so I had to play the two timing bastard for her sake. I didn’t want her to think it was her fault.”

Looking up at him, Cassie stroked his face and said, “God this is a mess,” then kissing him softly on his lips she ran her fingers through his hair igniting a passion he hadn’t felt in years. Just as things were getting hot and heavy, there was a pounding at the door. “Just my luck!” Amato said beyond irritated. Cassie however sensed something was wrong and ran to get her purse and her dad’s gun. “NYPD! Open up the door!” They both froze in terror, this was not how a kiss was supposed to end.

Author Bio:
Rachel Rueben is author of the bestselling YA novel “Hag” and “The Eternal Bond Series” both available on Wattpad. To keep up with Rachel, you can sign up for her frighteningly entertaining newsletter here.

Cereal Authors

Pic by Jon S. via Flickr Pic by Jon S. via Flickr

When Cassie got to apartment, she was startled to see that Amato was nowhere in sight. He must be sleeping, Cassie thought to herself. Putting the groceries on the kitchen counter, she took off her jacket and began looking for a solo cup to put her cereal and milk into. As she munched down she reached for yesterday’s paper and out of it slipped a piece of paper. Picking it up, Cassie noticed it was a legal document of some sort. Curiosity killed the cat and she read it, to her shock it was a will, Amato’s will. It read:
I Jonathan Amato of Brooklyn, New York, revoke my previous wills and condicils and declare this to be my last will and testament.
Article I
I am married to Irene Butler and all references in this will to my spouse are references to Irene.

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Going Retro with Juli Page Morgan

Today on the Fantastic Blog Hop Tour we have Juli Page Morgan romance author of Athena’s Daughter and Crimson and Clover.

1. Are you a fan of the genre that you write in? Oh, absolutely! I’ve been a reader of romances since I was a young teenager.

59117_10153086899660637_258432797_n2. Are you a pen and paper author or do you use a computer to write? I’m a computer girl, even though sometimes I have a hate/hate relationship with MS Word.

3. If you couldn’t write what would you be doing instead? I’d probably try to figure out how to start my own online radio station. I miss that biz more than I thought I would. If money was no object, I’d buy old, historic houses and restore them.

4. What about this business surprised you the most? How fast everything moves now! Just five years ago it tended to take at least a year if not longer for a publisher to get a book out once the contract was signed. My first book came out less than four months after my publisher offered me a contract!

5. Do you blog? Twice a week at www.julipagemorgan.com. Come on by and check it out!

6. Are you on social media? Do you enjoy it? I’m on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/JuliPageMorganAuthor) and Twitter (http://www.twitter.com/julipagemorgan) and I really do enjoy them! I will say that I’m more active on Facebook, but when I take the time to devote to Twitter, I love it, too!

7. The house is on fire, which do you save, your laptop or your book collection? My laptop! All the books I’ve written and am currently writing are on it, along with lots and lots of pictures. I can always replace my books, though I’d hate to lose my tattered, well-read favorites.

8. The publishing industry is changing, do you think this is good or bad time for authors? I think it’s a good time for authors because there are so many choices now that we didn’t have before. My first book was traditionally published through Crimson Romance, and I self-published my second. Both avenues have been really great, and I value the experience I’ve gained from each. Also, there is so much information now on the web about how to successfully pitch to editors, how to find critique groups, online classes, etc., things that were out of reach for writers either financially or location-wise before. Plus it’s so much easier to interact with readers now, and I love that!

9. How do you promote your books? I pretty much stick to my website for promotion, though I will post about my books occasionally on my FB author page. If I get a good review I’ll link to it on Twitter, but I try not to spam my followers with advertising.

10. Your editor says you have to kill a character, which one would get the ax? Adam Greene in Crimson and Clover. I love him, but he was a real twit when Katie and Jay got together.

946700_10153086904605637_1946542852_nUnder Katie Scott’s flower child exterior beats the heart of June Cleaver. Though she digs her bellbottoms and love beads, she longs for the idyllic family life she was denied as a child.

Laughed out of San Francisco’s Haight Ashbury after the Summer of Love for believing rock ‘n roll and white picket fences can coexist she decides to try her luck in the bohemian neighborhood of Ladbroke Grove in London.

When she discovers her new friend Adam is starting a band with Jay Carey, she’s ecstatic. She’d admired the British guitar god from afar for years, and when she and Jay finally meet the attraction between them is instantaneous. 

But life with a rock ‘n roll star doesn’t lend itself well to white picket fences. And when Katie tells Jay the secret she’s carried for two years it may end the dream before it begins.

Author Bio

521883_10153086911790637_1146588630_nJuli Page Morgan is a former rock ‘n roll radio announcer who had the great luck to meet and interview lots of bands over the years. During those interviews she heard lots of interesting stories, but it was when the microphone was turned off and they were just hanging out that she heard – and saw – the really juicy stuff! Incorporating these revelations in her books (with names and locations changed to protect the innocent, and often the not-so-innocent!) lets her remember those wonderful people that briefly rocked through her life, and to take her readers on a hard rocking journey full of love, music and happy endings while giving a “backstage peek” at some of the things that really happened.  Her Romances that Rock™ include Crimson and Clover published by Crimson Romance, and Athena’s Daughter from Carey On Publishing.

Juli lives in Arkansas with her husband. When she’s not writing, she’s recording voiceovers for television commercials, remodeling her old house,  and trying to convince her husband the world won’t come to an end if the television is turned off.  She also listens to a lot of music at maximum volume and has never met a speed limit she didn’t exceed.  Juli’s an unapologetic lover of rock ‘n roll, Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page, and French onion dip, not necessarily in that order.

Visit Juli at her website www.julipagemorgan.com!