Crown of confessions, p.26
Crown of Confessions, page 26
“Shut up,” Paulie said in a commanding voice.
“You should be ashamed of yourself. You fucking murdering bastard,” I roared. “I hope you rot in hell.”
“Frank, shut her up. Swear to God, man, shut her up, or I’ll pull over and do it myself,” Paulie roared as he sped through the dark roads of the sleepy wine country.
“Shut up, the both of yous,” Frank fired back. “My head hurts from the screamin’ and the damn smoke.” Frank held me down with one hand, the other was on his gun.
“Oh shit.” Paulie’s voice shook. “What if someone saw us? What if they saw the car? I ain’t getting pinched. I just killed two guys.”
“No one saw us. There was too much smoke. Even if they did, you’ll be fine,” Frank said as he held me down. “I take care of my men. You’re gonna drop me and your sister off at the ranch and then go to the Bay Club Casino like I told you. Ask for a guy named Tommy the T-bone. Tell ’em I sent you. He’ll know what to do. Do not contact me or call anyone. I’ll reach out to you when it’s safe.”
Sweat poured from Paulie’s face. “Okay.” He gripped the steering wheel tight.
“Don’t worry about it, kid. Was this your first hit?”
“Yeah,” Paulie admitted.
“You earned your ceremony. When we get back, it’s La Omerta for you, kid. You earned it tonight. We’ll have a party and everything,” Frank said, then coughed again.
Paulie stared at me through the rearview mirror.
“How could you?” I mouthed as my body drowned in grief and disgust. Blackened tears trailed down my cheeks and dripped off my chin.
Paulie looked back at the road.
I closed my eyes. I prayed to my mother, my daughter, and God. Please God, take care of Gaetano. Let him live and take me instead. If I’m too late, then you’ve got yourself another angel. Lord, hear my prayer.
I peered down at the St. Anthony’s charm he’d given me. This would be all I had left of him.
My Gaetano. My Guy. My grape grower.
The love of my life . . . gone.
Body of Evidence
Frank carried me into the house and threw me on the bed. It was late, and the lights were off in Pop’s clinic.
“I hate you. You killed innocent people. When you die, you’ll burn in hell. Your father raised a lousy bum of a son,” I hissed. “Murderer!”
“Basta,” Frank yelled. “Shut that big hole in your face, or you’ll get it again.” Frank raised his arm to strike.
“Do it. Fuckin’ kill me. If you don’t, I’m gonna tell everyone what happened. Now I’ll be the rat that you thought I was. I have nothing to lose anymore.”
“I said shut up,” Frank slapped me again.
I was numb. The pain didn’t hurt anymore. I wanted more. I wanted him to kill me. It was the same feeling I’d had the night the cops came to our door in Brooklyn. This time, I would end it all. This time, there was no going back. I knew the one thing that would push him over the edge and end my misery.
“Is that the best you got, you rotten piece of shit? I never told you this before, but I killed our daughter.”
Frank looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“Yeah, it was me, Frank. Remember all those pills you used to give me? Well, I took them, and more. That’s what killed our little girl. I did it. I never wanted to bring a child up in this life, anyway,” I said, trying to get him to snap and end all the misery.
Frank’s face went from white to bright red. He jumped on top of me and clenched his hands around my throat. He pressed down so hard ligaments in my neck popped.
“I should have done this a long time ago,” Frank screamed at my face. “Now you die, you worthless bitch.” Frank frothed over me like a rabid dog.
I didn’t fight back. I let go. This was what I wanted—to be free. I welcomed my eventual passing. I put my hands to my sides and counted down from one hundred. In seconds, I’d be reunited in heaven with all the people I loved.
There was no sound. My sight changed, as if I was looking through water.
I must be close now.
I quieted my mind and stopped fighting for air. My body was as weightless as a floating cloud in a vast sky.
Please, God, take me now. I’m ready. Gaetano, I’m coming.
Suddenly, there was a thunderous boom, then something wet spattered all over my body. Frank’s full weight crushed me.
I tried to open my eyes, but the warm substance covered my face. It dripped down my cheeks and into my mouth. It tasted of rust and salt. I tried to wipe it away, but I was covered in it.
It was blood. Lots of blood.
I wiped the red liquid from my eyes. A huge part of Frank’s head had been completely blown off. Pieces of his skull and brain were missing.
Tony stood at the foot of the bed with Mama’s shotgun pointed right at us. Wisps of smoke came off the barrel and rose to the ceiling. “Burn in hell, you son of a bitch,” Tony fumed.
My father rushed in and stood next to Tony. His eyes were as wide as saucers. “Minchia.” Pop shook his head. “We needa get rid of da body.”
I shut my eyes. White light crept under my hooded vision. It must have been my guardian angel protecting me from all the events I’d endured. My body lifted, and I was carried away to the nothing.
My nose tickled. I opened my swollen eyes.
The harsh scent of bleach stung my nostrils. It was strong and burned my throat. I was in a hospital bed in my father’s clinic, dressed in a fresh nightgown and wrapped in clean linens.
It must have been a dream.
A deep yawn developed in my diaphragm, making me stretch my body. I yelped in pain.
This was no dream.
Like a puzzle, I tried to put the hazy pieces together in my mind—a product of all the pills. Truth left me breathless.
“Oh my God, Gaetano,” I whimpered. I hobbled my broken body to the phone in my father’s office and dialed the operator. While I waited for a voice, the cuckoo clock chimed. It was four a.m. Seconds passed like hours. Visions of high flames and bodies on the ground made my heart pound against my chest. “Oh God, please no. He has to be alive,” I spoke into the phone. My voice shook.
The operator answered.
“Can you connect me to the Sanna Winery in the Napa Valley, please?”
“Connecting now.” After a brief pause, the woman said, “Ma’am, there’s no answer. Should I try a different connection?”
“They had a fire there last night. It must have warped all the telephone lines out there,” I said frantically. “Can you connect me with the Napa Valley Fire Department, then?” I asked desperately.
“Hold, please.”
The phone slipped down my sweaty palm as I waited.
“Napa Valley Fire, Captain Eli Willis speaking. Are you reporting a fire?”
“No. Well, yes. There was a fire at the Sanna Winery last night.”
“Yes. A terrible one. Almost took down their whole operation. We were able to salvage some of it. Are you from the press?”
“No, I’m a friend of the family. Do you know if Mr. Sanna is alive? I tried to call but the telephone lines are down.”
The officer cleared his throat. “Ma’am, unfortunately, Mr. Sanna suffered life-threatening wounds and died last night at the scene. May I ask your name? Would you like me to deliver a message to someone out there?”
I took in a big gulp of air.
I screamed and threw the phone across the room, ripping the cord from the wall. My rage was back in full force. It flowed through my veins like hot poison, consuming me once again.
I pushed everything off my father’s desk. Various papers, pens, and medical equipment dumped onto the floor. I tossed over the file cabinet, breaking a lamp on its way down.
The light bulb sparked, and glass shattered around my bare feet.
“I hate this life,” I bellowed and fell to the floor. “I hate the Mafia. Why, God, why didn’t you take me last night, why?” I cried, trying to push over my father’s chair.
A big, warm hand grabbed my arm in midair.
“Stop it,” Tony’s voice roared. “Stop it right now,” he commanded, then confined my body into a tight ball.
“No, Tone,” I fired back. “Let go of me.” I tried to push my brother’s arms away. “They’re all dead. He’s dead. Gaetano’s gone. Paulie did it,” I yelled through tears.
“Hey, you shut your mouth, you hear me?” Tony’s voice was stern and threatening.
A flux of anguish flooded my eyes.
He hugged my shaking body tightly. “You’re okay, Vi. I have you.”
“Tony, oh God. What am I gonna do now?” My words trailed off as my legs gave way. I slumped to the ground.
Tony gently laid me on the floor and sat beside me. “It’s okay.” Tony patted my back. “You’re okay, Vi,” he said while I whimpered on his shoulder “It’s all over now. Shhh,” Tony hushed as he rocked me back and forth.
I pulled away and stared at my brother’s face through wet eyes. “Wait. I remember now. You shot Frank. You . . . you . . .” I pointed my finger at my older brother, recalling the bits and pieces of Frank’s skull scattered around me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tony quickly looked away.
“Yes, it was you. I remember. Frank’s head . . . the blood . . . Oh God,” I muttered, then threw up. Yellow bile fluid flew from my mouth along with streams of saliva onto the floor next to Tony’s feet.
He ran to the bathroom and returned with a towel.
“Here. Clean yourself up.” Tony carried me back to the bed and pulled the covers over my bruised body. “You shouldn’t be movin’ much. Look at you. You’re all busted up.”
“Paulie’s to blame for this. He’s the one who told Frank where I was.”
“I’ll deal with Paulie.” A vein in Tony’s forehead pulsed.
I grabbed for his hand. “Don’t play games with me. I know what happened. I’m not a child. If you won’t tell me the truth, Pop will.” I slung my leg over the side of the bed and ran out the door.
“Get over here,” Tony yelled from the house.
“Papa, where are you?” I screamed and ran past the chicken coops. With only small hints of light in the distance, I scanned the ranch. Pop was talking to Sal Sunseri by the barn. I walked through the tall grass toward my father.
“Donna worry about notin’. We take care of everyting,” Sal said while my father wiped his blood-stained hands with a towel.
“Papa,” I choked out.
The two men shot me a bone-chilling stare. Angelo came out of the barn carrying a body wrapped in a sheet over his shoulder.
Angelo stopped, looked at his father, then back at me. Breathless, I fell to the ground.
Two heavy hands grabbed onto my shoulders and yanked me back up.
“Get back in the house,” Tony demanded.
“No. Let go of me. Papa,” I screamed, trying to break free of Tony’s grip.
“Violetta, go back to da house,” my father commanded, then shot me a grave stare. “Tony, get her back in da house and keep her der.”
Tony picked me up. I kicked and screamed against my brother’s body. “Papa, Paulie killed Gaetano,” I roared.
“Shut up, Vi. I mean it, or I’ll make you shut up,” Tony yelled.
Tony held me down on the bed while my father came in behind him.
“Papa, Paulie killed Gaetano!” I screamed with a hoarse voice. “Please take this pain away from me. I want the pills. I don’t want to live anymore. I’m going crazy,” I shrieked. Then I looked at Tony. “You killed Frank. You shot him while he was on top of me. This is all too much. Please. Help me,” I begged.
My father held me in his arms.
The Mafia had taken so much from me and stolen any shred of sanity I had left. I struck my father repeatedly as years of anger poured from me because of his association with the Mafia. “You did this! If you hadn’t made me marry that bastard none of this would have happened,” I yelled and pounded on his chest.
Tony pushed Pop aside and held me down.
“She’s hysterical, Pop. You have to do something. She’s threatening to go to the cops.
Pop went to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a syringe. “Hold her down,” my father ordered.
“Make it strong enough to kill me,” I seethed. “You owe me that.”
Tears fell from my father’s eyes, and he shoved the syringe into my arm.
I hoped that I’d be listening to angels sing. I was dismayed to find that I was still in the clinic. The door to the room was open. I heard Pop and Tony talking in the hallway.
“Pop, she knows too much. We need to talk to her.”
“No. Not yet. We mussa keep her sleep for a little while so she no say nutting.”
“Fuckin’ Paulie. Where could he be? He’s definitely runnin’ scared. Vi told me what happened. He shot the Sanna boy. I’m sure Frank made him do it. I hope for his sake no one got the plates, or that could get the feds over here, snoopin’ around.”
“Maronn.”
“But look what Frank did to her,” Tony said. “Paulie’s my brother and I love him, but I want to beat his stupid face in. Brother or not, he betrayed us. Blood is blood.”
“For you brudder, Molanano blood courses tru his veins more dan mine. He made hisa choice. He knew what it mean to get hisa hands dirty. He willa needa be a man and face up to his consequences, to Di Natale or da cops. I willa do all I can to protect him, but if someone did see, how long you tink da mayor willa help us?”
“We have to hope no one can identify him, or we’ll have to grease their pockets to keep them quiet. Or kill ’em.”
“Lika everyone else we deal wit, itsa always da same. Da mayor isa slippery man. I no trust him, but we needa him on our side. To him, glory is wort more dan gold. We canno win. We needa help you brudder and da mayor. How you tink biziniss been runnin’ so smoothly all deez years? Tony, we needa be smart.”
“Yeah, Pop. You’re right. What do we do?”
“I willa do what I canna for you brudder, but I make no guarantees. I neva wan dis for any of you, but what choice did I have? Der were times I had to do tings dat I no proud of to help us survive. Now look at my beautiful daughter.” Pop’s voice cracked. “Looka wassa happened to her.”
“Don’t cry, Pop. Violetta’s strong. She’ll pull through this. I won’t let anyone hurt this family again. I should’ve put a bullet in Frank a long time ago.”
“I glad we took care of da body when we did. Da feds willa be here any day now askin’ questions.”
“I’ll take care of everything,” Tony said.
“I more worry about Di Natale. When he canno find his son and word gets around he was here, he’ll blame me. Di Natale gonna be here sooner or later. We needa be ready.”
“We’ll deal with that when the time comes. I heard Frank was on parole. I think the son of a bitch flipped. I bet the cops knew he was here,” Tony said.
“Word is, he on da run. Don Molanano always wan him in da casinos. I tink das why he wassa here. But if he did work for da cops, I wonder how much dey know. Da mayor, he play both sides. He never tell me everyting. I trust no one.”
“Sounds like we got two big problems now. The feds and Don Molanano. God help us. I’ll get a couple guys together. You know, people we can trust—Sal’s guys.”
“I no wan a war, Tony. Itsa bad for biziniss. Wars cost lotsa money.”
“We’ll figure it out, Pop. It’ll be all right. But one thing’s for sure—I ain’t never gonna eat Sal’s sausage and peppers again.”
Wait, what? I’d heard of guys drowning with bricks tied to their legs, but this was far worse than I could’ve ever imagined. Frank deserved this ending. I suppressed a slow grin. Afraid my father would sedate me again, I stayed quiet with my eyes closed. I’d heard all I needed.
Cover-Up
My father stood in front of me with dark circles under his eyes.
“You should’ve killed me.” I turned my face away from him.
“No speaka like dat. Please, donna be mad. You were hysterical. Tings are dangerous right now. I sorry for everyting.”
I ignored his apology. “How long have I been out?”
“You needa rest. You body needa heal.”
“How long?” I demanded.
“Two days.”
“Two days? I need to find out about the funeral arrangements.” I tried to get up to use the phone but my head was still woozy. I quickly lay back down. “Whoa.” I put my hands over my face.
“Da medicina willa get outta you blood soon.”
I closed my eyes, then reopened them to focus. “Pop, Paulie is dead to me. I never want to see or speak about him again.”
Pop shot me a careful glance. “You needa be verra careful what you say. Itsa only a matter of time before da cops gonna coma here. We canno find you brudder.”
“I know where he is. He’s in Tahoe. Frank told him to go there.”
Frank.
“I’m glad Tony killed him. I’m finally free of that monster. Free, but for what?” The emptiness in my chest would surely crush me.
Pop rubbed his chin and then looked down at me. “I sorry, Violetta.”
“If and when the cops come here, I’m gonna tell them everything. Paulie deserves to rot in prison for what he did.”
“You canno do dat. You put us in danger if you tell,” he cautioned.
“I’ve followed Mafia rules before and never said a word, but this goes too far. Let them come and kill me. I don’t care.”
“You breaka my heart when you speak like dat. You my daughter. I canno let dat happen,” Pop pleaded.
“And you think my heart isn’t broken? The love of my life is dead,” I snapped. “I’ll never be the same now.”
“I know you angry, but Paulie is still my son.” He looked at me with a pained expression. “If da cops coma here, I needa you stay quiet. We not only dealin’ wit da polizia, but we deal wit Don Molanano and Di Natale too.”
“I’m not afraid of any of them. I was so happy when Gaetano came back into my life. I had a second chance at happiness, and now this.” My voice shook and tears followed. “It’s always been about you and your place in this sick, twisted, disgusting world,” I sobbed into his face. “I hate you.”
