Taken to the cleaner, p.1
Taken to the Cleaner, page 1
Taken to the Cleaner
Ginger Ring
Contents
Untitled
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
About the Author
Before You Go…
Become A Bookshark!
Untitled
Taken to the Cleaner
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Copyright © 2020 by Ginger Ring.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: April 2020
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Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
www.limitlesspublishing.com
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Formatting: Book Pages By Design
Cover Design: Deranged Doctor Design
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ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-334-4
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No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Stephanie
Stephanie Barclay never considered herself antisocial; she just didn’t like being around people. It was standing room only at the Genoa Java shop. Odd how a person can be surrounded by people and yet feel alone. She always got the same thing, a French vanilla cappuccino. The heat from the coffee seeped through the paper cup and warmed her fingers. It may be April, but the mornings were still cool. Her gaze landed on a pair of ghost white legs. Spring in Wisconsin—if it was above freezing, it was shorts and t-shirt weather.
“Why must you taunt me so? That must be why they call it Devil’s food. It’s so sinful.” Madison’s face was mere inches from the glass as she debated the chocolate layer cake, just like she did every day. They’d been coming here every morning for as long as she could remember. Madison had been her boss when she ran her mother’s bridal store, Bells and Bows. Now it was Stephanie who did most of the work.
“Just get it. You know you want it.” Stephanie shook her head and surveyed the long line behind them. No one would dare tell Madison to hurry. Everyone knew the reputation of her husband, Roman Caponelli, who was part of the Caponelli crime family. A shiver ran down her spine. In Madison’s eyes the man could do no wrong. Love is blind, as they say. Stephanie saw it as reckless and dangerous.
“Yes, I want it. I just don’t want the calories. I swear I put on five pounds of winter fat this year.” Her friend stood up and ordered her usual, a mocha latte with a shot of espresso. They were nothing if not predictable. Things had become comfortable—too comfortable. She’d been looking over her shoulder for so long. Now was not the time to be complacent or at ease. Life as she knew it could be gone in a moment. No one knew that better than her.
“I don’t think you have to worry. Roman would love you no matter what.” She bit back the urge to gag. They were so much in love it was sickening.
“I’ll get one tomorrow.” Madison reached over the counter to grab the cup that had Maddy written on it in black marker.
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “You’ll do the same thing. Lean over the counter, drool over it, fog up the glass, and then say no. Same thing, different day.” They maneuvered through the crowd holding their cups in the air.
“Everything all right, Steph?” Her friend placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Yeah, just busy at the store. All those spring brides. It wears on me sometimes.” Most were nice, but some thought the sun rose and set on them. One time she received a three-page letter in the mail from a bride complaining that Stephanie had ruined her wedding and her entire life because the bridesmaid dress the woman wanted didn’t come in the right color. As if Stephanie had any connection to the dress company and could fix that.
“I remember the feeling. Being single didn’t help any. Don’t worry, your Prince Charming will show up when you least expect it.” They finally reached the exit but still had to wait as more locals drifted in. “It was right here that I met Roman. You were standing right next to me.” It was true. Madison had her nose to the counter ogling chocolate cake when Roman said something behind her. She’d spun around and thrown coffee on his fancy designer suit. It was love—or lust—at first sight. Only Stephanie had noticed him for what he was, a thug in Armani.
Madison saw the other side of the man. The one that loved her, protected her, and would do anything, including kill for her. Everyone had two sides to them. No one knew Stephanie’s other side. They just saw the timid bridal consultant. The side she allowed them to see. “Yes, how could I forget? Our lives haven’t been the same since.” She couldn’t fault the man, though. He loved Madison, had treated Stephanie fairly, and did what he could to keep crime out of the town. Whether his motives were selfish or sincere, she hadn’t decided yet.
When there was a break in the customers, Madison grabbed her arm and pulled her out the door. “I’m serious. You need to get laid.”
“Maddy!” Her mouth dropped open. “I do not. I don’t need anyone, and I prefer to be alone.”
“Everyone needs someone.” Her friend was the ultimate romantic. That was probably why the store had been so successful when she ran it. Madison had given up her dream of becoming a dress designer to stay here with Roman, but she still created beautiful wedding and special occasion gowns for family and friends.
“I don’t, and I don’t want to talk anymore about it. Okay?” Stephanie hit the key fob to unlock her vehicle. The air was muggy with the possibly of a spring storm.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Madison raised an eyebrow. “Anytime you need help, just let me know and I’ll be there.”
Guilt hit her in the gut. Madison was her best friend, her only friend, and she was treating her like crap this morning. She was also right. Being alone was nice, but at night she yearned for more. Stephanie had been brave for so long, where was her strong pair of shoulders to lean her head on when things got tough?
“Thanks. I’m sorry for being such a crab this morning. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Like I said, you need to get laid,” Madison teased and bumped her with her arm.
“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll see what I can do.” What she wouldn’t do to have someone in her life, but that meant sharing secrets, and Stephanie wasn’t ready for that yet.
They set their mugs in the cup holders and buckled up. Madison turned up the radio. The weather man chatted about the above normal temps and humidity.
“I hope we get a storm. I love them.” Madison wiggled in her seat. She once ran out dancing in a rainstorm while Steph stayed inside. She’d never make it as a storm chaser, while Madison would probably barrel head first in the direction of a tornado. That was probably why she and Roman clicked.
At the exit of the parking lot, Stephanie looked both ways and stepped on the gas. At the last second, a motorcycle came out of nowhere. The biker looked right at her, and a chill ran down her spine. Was that—? Her foot hit the gas.
Crash!
“What the hell?” Madison braced both hands on the dash. “We hit someone.”
They both fled the car and gasped when they saw a motorcycle on its side and the rider on the ground.
“Oh my god, oh my god.” Stephanie waved her arms. How did this happen? Was he dead?
“Call an ambulance!” Madison screamed.
“I’m fine.” The biker sat up. Blood ran from one side of his head as he struggled to get to his feet. He had the deep voice of a man that smoked and drank more that anyone should. His eyes locked on Stephanie’s, and a lump froze in her throat. “You.” He pointed before he wobbled and slumped to the ground.
Madison rushed to get her phone, but Stephanie grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”
“I have to call 911. We have to get help.”
“No,” Stephanie pleaded.
“What? Are you crazy? You just hit someone! He needs an ambulance.”
Steph swallowed and looked toward the shop. So far no one from inside had noticed the incident. “You just said if I ever needed help to just ask. Well, I am asking now.” She placed a hand on each of Maddy’s shoulders and shook her. “Listen to me. You were driving. You borrowed my car. You hit him.”
“I…what?” Madison’s eyes were wide.
“Please. I’m begging you.”
Madison frowned but nodded her head.
Stephanie glanced once more at the man on the ground and toward the Java shop. She then took off down the sidewalk in the opposite direction and never looked back.
Dominic
“It went good. The shipment was complete and payment was made.” Roman’s usual driver Arlo was out of town today, so Dominic Scarlatti had gotten the job of accompanying his boss to a drop-off. As much as Roman’s wife wanted him to go legit, they still had obligations to fulfill. Today they’d overseen a guns shipment to one of the local motorcycle clubs they’d aligned with.
“Where to?” Dominic didn’t believe in small talk. The sooner he could get back to the solitude of his place, the better.
Roman never answered. He stared at his phone as Dominic drove to Genoa. “Go to the Java shop.”
“Does Valentina need something to drink?” He chuckled. Roman’s sister made the worst coffee in the world. She was one of the smartest women he’d ever met, and he often wondered if she did it on purpose. The crap she mixed up bordered on toxic waste. Again Roman said nothing. Something was up.
“Are you all right?” His boss was on the phone with someone. “We’re on our way.”
He tossed the phone in his pocket and told him to hurry.
“What’s going on?” Dom stepped on the gas.
“Madison’s been in an accident.”
“She all right?” He didn’t like too many people, but Madison had always treated him well. Not like the freak that most people considered him. As the family’s cleaner, he had to do what most didn’t want to deal with. Cleaning up the messes others left behind. Messes they wanted to disappear forever. They should be thankful for him, yet most just stayed clear. He liked them to keep their distance, but a little appreciation would be nice. That said, Roman and Madison always treated him well and with respect.
“Yes, but something isn’t right.” Roman crossed his arms in front of his chest.
Dominic breathed a sigh of relief. It would devastate his boss if anything ever happened to his wife. “What happened?” They’d just crossed into the city limits.
“Don’t know. Just that she hit a biker with her car?”
A biker? They’d just left most of the bikers they knew back at their club. It could be one of the locals taking their bike out to enjoy the early warm weather.
“She doesn’t have a car,” Dominic wondered out loud.
“I know.” In the distance, medics loaded someone into an ambulance on a stretcher. Dom wheeled their SUV into the Java lot and put it in park.
“That’s not her vehicle.” The car involved in the accident belonged to Madison’s friend, Stephanie. She was the one woman he wouldn’t mind getting to know better, but whenever he was around her, she practically jumped out of her skin. To others Steph may appear to be shy, but to him it was something else. He studied people. Dominic picked up easily on things that others missed. The woman was a mystery, and he was eager to find out her secrets. It was almost like she was hiding from something or someone, but from what or from whom?
“I know.” It seemed to be Roman’s turn to not be talkative. They got out and hurried to where Madison was talking to Officer Ryan Donavan of the Genoa Police Department. As soon as she spied her husband, Madison rushed to hug him.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” He brushed the hair back from her face.
“Yes, yes. It just happened so fast. He came out of nowhere.” She pointed to where a motorcycle lay in a heap.
“Hey, Roman.” Officer Ryan held his hand out. It seemed odd, but the two had gone to the same school back in Chicago. They just went on to do very different things in life. Roman shook his hand but still held his wife close. “I was just asking Madison where Stephanie was and why she was driving her car.”
“Like I said. She’s been very busy at the shop, so I said I would go get her something to drink. She offered her vehicle, so I took it. When I drove out of the parking lot, he was just there. I hope he’ll be okay.”
Dominic strolled over toward the scene of the accident. The biker had California plates. Not a local. Oddly, there were no skid marks. He glanced back to where Roman stood, and his eyes met his. Something was off. Dom surveyed the vehicle. Two coffee mugs sat in their holders inside. The one with Maddy’s name on it was in the passenger side holder. There were two purses in there also. Stephanie’s, perhaps? Why would Stephanie leave her purse in the car? If Madison was driving, why was her mug not on the driver’s side?
He walked back to where Roman and Ryan spoke in hushed tones. “I don’t know what happened and I don’t care. You need to clean this shit up.” Officer Ryan and Roman had a history, so he was one of the few people that could talk to his boss like this and not end up at the bottom of the lake. In a way, they needed each other to keep things running smoothly in town. It also didn’t hurt that Roman’s sister seemed to like the guy. “I tried to run the plates and registration on this car, and they’re fake. Also, the VIN number’s been altered. I know you have people that can fix that, so get this piece of shit out of here and get me some new numbers for my report asap.”
Madison seemed as surprised by that as they all were and turned Dom’s way. They were both thinking the same thing. What was Stephanie doing with fake plates?
About a half hour later, they were cleared to go and Roman came up behind him. “I’m taking Madison home. Here’s the key for Stephanie’s car. Take it to our shop. Have them sweep it and get everything up to snuff. Get the new numbers to Donavan…after that bring her in, willing or not. No one makes my wife take the fall for something they did. No one.”
Dominic watched his boss help Madison into their SUV. Most jobs he dreaded, but Stephanie intrigued him. She would not go easily. Finally, a job he would enjoy doing. He rarely smiled, but a grin just crossed his lips.
Chapter 2
Stephanie
She made it to the bridal shop in record time. It helped that she’d dodged through a few back yards and barking dogs, but luckily no one witnessed her doing the mad dash. As soon as she was in the shop, Steph locked the door behind her and took several deep breaths. Her heart pounded so fast, she placed a hand on her chest as if it might burst.
What if the guy had recognized her? And what was she thinking trying to run the bastard over? She wasn’t thinking. She just reacted. Had they found her, or was it just a random thing? Madison would need an explanation. Even worse, Roman would. Her shoulders sank. The clock on the wall clicked away the minutes. It would soon be time to open. If she didn’t, there would be even more drama. Taking a few moments in the bathroom to collect herself, she put on a brave face and put the open sign out.
The rest of the day passed quickly. Every time the bell over the door jingled, she nearly jumped out of her skin. It was a slow day but busy enough that the customers kept her mind busy. There was nothing like a needy bride, or mother of the bride, to keep her on her toes. She really did care that their weddings were perfect. Stephanie just wanted to make sure she was still alive at the end of the day to see it through to wedding day. Seeing a ghost from her tragic past had her stomach in knots.
When it was finally closing time, she took a deep breath. Maybe Roman believed that his wife was driving and everything would be okay. Maybe the biker she hit wasn’t the man she thought he was, and he would soon be on his way. What if it was someone else? Stephanie jolted up from the chair she’d just collapsed in. What if an innocent man had died at her hands?
Her footsteps were silent as she paced the floor of the carpeted shop. Her hand occasionally reached out to touch the plastic bags filled with wedding gowns. She stopped when she came to the elaborate iron stand that held their selection of veils. It was just last summer that the shop had been trashed when a rival mobster had tried to scare Madison and other shop owners into selling their properties. Glass flew everywhere, and she still bore the scar on her face where a piece had lodged in her skin.
They’d been terrified until Roman had showed up. His crew got the place cleaned up, and their private doctor stitched up her wound after she’d refused to go to the doctor. Hospitals asked for identification, and hers probably wouldn’t pass close inspection.
Her fingers touched the iron stand and then fanned out a veil. It was beautiful. There were delicate vines and leaves entwined in the branches that stemmed out to hold the headpieces. How could something so beautiful have been made by someone so dark? Dominic Scarlatti was an enigma, a puzzle that was obviously missing a few pieces.
