Kristmas Collins by Derek Ciccone Read Free Book Online Page A

back to where we started. Where’s that damn cab?
    “I thought I told you to leave him alone … you got wax in your ears, sweetheart?” Paulie shouted, moving closer.
    “That’s more than you got between yours,” she fired back.
    “I said get lost.”
    “It’s a free country.”
    When they stepped toward each other, Paulie reached under his coat and pulled out a gun. “I’m gonna say it real slow this time, so you can understand. I. Said. Leave. Him. Alone.”
    They stared at each other for what seemed like a minute, but the gun won out. She took off in a slow jog and mixed into the crowd. The hustling and bustling crowd on Sixth Avenue seemed unconcerned by the incident, as if it was just a typical case of holiday stress in the big bad city.
    Paulie put his gun away and turned back toward us. I wasn’t sure if we should shake his hand or run for our lives.
    I was hoping that he was just an overzealous fan, but I knew his arrival was no coincidence, nor was what he said next, “I think it’s a beautiful night for a walk. The lights, the snow … I love the city at Christmas time. I suggest you take your girlfriend for a romantic stroll, ZT.”
    When he didn’t move, Paulie opened his coat just enough for us to get another look at the gun. Zee gave me an unsure look. I nodded that he should go for that walk. This was between me and them, and I wasn’t going to allow Zee to be taken down in the crossfire.
    He didn’t appear convinced, but put his arm around Sophie and began walking away. He glanced over his shoulder with another concerned look. I waved to indicate that everything was going to be okay. But I wasn’t sure that it was.
     
     
     

Chapter 9
     
    A cab pulled up alongside us. I didn’t take it as a sign that my luck was changing.
    Paulie pointed for me to get in. In spite of the many hours I’d spent watching mob movies, I still chose to enter the vehicle. The driver was wearing a denim jacket and a skullcap. He looked like Paulie’s chubby little brother.
    Paulie piled in next to me in the backseat and we were off. My best guess was that they were a couple of Scroggie’s thugs, but so many people were after me at this point I couldn’t be sure.
    “Court Street, Brooklyn Heights,” Paulie instructed the driver, which just happened to be where my apartment was located.
    He turned to me. “That is where you’re going, Collins, isn’t it?”
    “I appreciate the ride home—the subway can be a zoo this time of year. But if you’re looking for a good place to torture me, that might not be the best spot. I’m not the only person living there. I’m sure you’re aware that with each body you have to clean up, the chances of you getting caught go up dramatically.” I couldn’t let Alyson get trapped in this, anymore than Zee.
    The driver laughed. “Who’s gonna catch us, the FBI?”
    Paulie grinned at the comment. “I know that Alyson Rudingo is working late tonight, and Robbie is staying with his father. So it’ll just be us, Collins.”
    “And who would us be?”
    Paulie reached under his trench coat and pulled out a badge. It identified him as Paul Falcone, a special agent with the FBI. The driver held up his badge—Larry Boersch, also with the FBI.
    Not what I’d expected, but the lesser of the evils. They would just grill me, while the Scroggie thugs would likely cook me on a grill and serve me for Christmas dinner.
    “If this is about the fight at Duma’s, I didn’t start it. Come to think of it … I believe you did, Agent Falcone.”
    “No—Jacqueline Helada did. Do you know who she is?”
    “I think she’s that photographer that you almost shot on Sixth Avenue.”
    “It would make your life a lot easier if she was … or if I shot her. Jacqueline Helada is a longtime associate of Stone Scroggie, and is no stranger to guns. You are aware of who Stone Scroggie is, correct?”
    “I think I overheard someone talking about him at the Wainwright party. A business