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

of car she drove. His head twisted left when he caught sight of a shiny black Mercedes parked in a far corner.
    She pointed at it, “That’s my car.”
    What? No fucking way she owned a Mercedes SLR McLaren Roadster!
    It boggled his mind the car sat undisturbed, not one tire or rim missing. This was a top of the line automobile worth half a mil. She spoke abo ut a lottery winning and he assumed she meant a couple of grand. To have a car like the McLaren a person must have substantial cash . The parts for this car were expensive and the insurance equally obscene. If the idiot who murdered his uncle and wife were after cash, he’d gotten plenty if he stole and sold this car piece by piece. Damn fool!
    The car beeped open at the push of a button and he held ajar the passenger door, waited for her to settle in then circled around to the driver’s s eat . He slid in side. The silver SLR insignia on the ebony console gleamed beneath a moonless sky. T he plush custom red leather seat with the initials SB stitched in silver across the middle of the headrest and modification to the gas pedal were undoubtedly Uncle Al’s handiwork. A mechanic by trade , he owned and operated a custom detail shop in Canarsie with an impressive clientele. Alfonzo adjusted the seat and mirror before starting the engine and listened to the 5.5 liter, 617 horsepower AMG V-8 engine hum to life.
    ‘ Damn, this car i s wicked.’
    He rolled out to the main road, flashed the headlights to get Raul’s attention then sped away trying to put distance between hell and the highway. The car handled remarkably, making it a breeze slipping around the slower moving vehicles as he headed toward the Brooklyn Bridge and when he finally reached it and exited to the FDR it welcomed him. He cut loose down the narrow stretch of highway listening to the nothingness of his mind. He was numb to the pain, stricken silent by the enormity of it. He glanced at the sleeping girl. The peaceful expression on her lovely face was antithetic al to the inner turmoil he was certain existed there. Tomorrow she’d awake and the truth of this night will revisit.
    The illuminated clock on the dashboard read 2:30 in the morning . Three hours ago he lay in bed and decided to call his uncle , instead he reached this girl. It took three hours for his entire life to change and for the first time in forever he longed for the dad he never knew. The brownstone came into view and he found a park , r an up the steps to unlock the door then returned for his sleeping passenger. She did not stir as he carried her inside and placed her in the guest bedroom atop the queen bed. Nor , did she blink when he stripped her of the stained clothing then cleaned the bloody gook from her face. His eyes lingered admirably for a moment on her shapely figure but as a gentleman he slid the covers up to her chin then stepped silently out the door. He prolonged the inevitable long enough. He squared his shoulders, rolled his neck like a fight limbering up before a bout, clenched his jaw in obstinacy then rushed downstairs and out the door where the others now gathered.

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CHAPTER SEVEN
    Gina Palazzo walked gracefully by silk covered tables as she followed the maitre’d. Les Faire, was an upscale restaurant on posh Fifth Avenue which catered to the rich and pampered. They were also discreet and offered private rooms for well…dubious clients. She requested a private table . She was here on business and to sample the food ; a completely innocent dinner from all appearances. She could see the private dining rooms in the distance and smiled. There was nothing private about it; in fact , it brought unnecessary attention to anyone who occupied them. With this is mind she gladly settled for a quiet table amongst other patrons. The maitre’d escorted her to a small table in a cozy corner of the room as she requested. When a waiter appeared from the shadows the maitre’d instructed him to give Mrs. Palazzo special