Alfonzo by S. W. Frank Read Free Book Online Page A

pressed against his collar bone and he maneuvered forward awkwardly with her. Once they emerged from the building everyone’s attention focused on the couple. The girl with bloodstained clothing and the Latin man cradling her , were undoubtedly connected to the victims in the rumored homicide in apartment 4C. Talking ensued as they passed the young uniformed cops mingling with an ambulance crew ; t he same medics who packed up and left a patient in obvious shock. His lip curled in disgust, civil servants, they did minimum work and expected premium pay.
    “Excuse me…excuse me … did you know the victims?” A female reporter from a local station asked.
    Alfonzo ignored her and hastened his pace.
    “Ca n you tell us what happened?” The reporter persisted .
    Selange clutched his shirt as he maneuvered past the flashing bulbs and cameras. His anger grew as the pestilent reporter pushed the microphone to his chin and his temper flared. His voice held fiery ice and the blue eyes flashed an unspoken threat, “Get…the…camera…out…of…my…goddamn…face…lady!”
    She withdrew under the unspoken threat and motioned to the camera man, “Come on…let’s go.”
    Domingo rushed forward trailed by his boys, “What the hell’s going on , what happened , was it T io ? ”
    “ Alfonzo’s somber expression confirmed the bad news, “ Si.”
    “Ah…no…no…no…no.” Domingo exclaimed simultaneously punching at air and drawing the attention from the reporter once more .
    Raul lowered his head and Fernando turned and walked to a solitary place near the curb. Uncle Al was the patriarch of the f amily , well respected and madly loved.
    Domingo’s reaction was expected. Uncle’s loss was a tremendous blow to them all. The cavernous void in his absence was immeasurable .
    “Alfonzo?”
    Had she said his name? He blinked, “Yeah?”
    “I need to get my car. I cannot leave it here. I’m never coming here again.” She started crying, not hysterically like before but heart wrenching nonetheless.
    Domingo composed himself and looked questionably at the stunning female as if seeing her for the first time. He spied her blood-s tained face and clothes , then he addressed Alfonzo, “Who’s she?”
    “Selange…Uncle’s stepdaughter.”
    “What?”
    “Yeah man, he got married at the J.O.P.”
    “What…so what the fuck happened did some motherfucker get pissed…what…what happened?”
    Alfonzo swiveled his head looking in the eyes of those nearby to s earch for any sign of guilt or satisfaction on their faces. He examined in the dark for a killer. He spoke in a conspiratorial tone, “They were shot execution style.”
    Domingo became stone. The Diaz gene on display, “We’re going to find the motherfucker , primo . On tio’s blood we gotta ’ find the motherfuckers who did this! ”
    The reporter inched closer to eavesdrop; Alfonzo spotted her and said, “Let’s get out of here. We’ll talk later.”
    Selange shivered again , “I’m cold.”
    “We’re leaving. Where’s your car?”
    She pointed to the parking lot adjacent to the building blanketed in darkness then opened her clenched fist to reveal a purse keychain.
    “Raul, you up to driving?”
    The stocky dark hair youth nodded. “Yeah.”
    “Follow in my car it’s right across the street. I’ll flash you . ” He tossed Raul the key to his prized SL600, with a stern w arning, “Don’t fuck-up my car, comprende ?”
    “No sweat,” Raul replied quietly. Under different circumstances he’d exhibit jubilation to drive Alfonzo’s car , but tonight all he felt was emptiness. He walked slowly away, tapping Fernando as he passed his taller companion. Fernando trailed after Raul and they jogged across the street, dodging cars to Alfonzo’s ride.
    “I’ll pull around , I’m parked at the end of the block ,” Domingo added.
    “All right.”
    He hurried the shivering girl to the parking lot and scanned the dozen or so cars wondering what type