Francis Joseph D’Allesandro was charged under RICO with running a criminal enterprise. He was charged with drug trafficking, money laundering, and attempted murder. They seized all his assets, and liens were placed on all his businesses and the brownstone. He pled innocent to all of the charges, and when his attorney asked that he be released on bail, the judge denied it.
When told that Sophia Toscano was an undercover DEA agent who bugged his phones and was wearing a wire the day he’d told her everything about his family business, he refused to believe her deception. Ray had come down to visit Frankie in prison and relayed to Kenny that Frankie was a broken man, and if he’d been released on bail, there was no doubt he would’ve gone back to abusing drugs.
During one of his telephone calls with Frankie, his friend said it would take a year and maybe even longer for the prosecutors at the Southern District of New York to collect evidence to bring it to trial, because they were going over thousands of hours of wiretaps. Meanwhile he would have to remain behind bars during that time.
It had taken Kenny several months to go through all of his mother’s possessions in her apartment to either throw or give away. He would come for a few hours after work to box up books and clothes, electing to keep personal mementos.
He had reconnected with MacKayla, and while he’d found her geographically undesirable because she lived in New Jersey, that hadn’t become a deal-breaker for him. He recalled what his mother said about becoming friends before lovers and had cautioned Mac, as he’d begun calling her, that he wanted to take it slow. She was in agreement, because she’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship where she and her ex had lived together.
Kenny had no idea his life would eventually change dramatically when, on a top shelf of a closet in his mother’s bedroom, he found a box filled with her journals. He would’ve missed it if he hadn’t stood on a stepladder to replace a bulb in the ceiling. He took the box to his apartment with the intent of reading what she’d written whenever he had a lot of spare time, storing it in a footlocker in the closet of his spare bedroom.
His relationship with MacKayla was so angst-free that Kenny could not believe he’d finally found his soulmate. He took her with him up to Connecticut to visit Ray and his family. Migdalia had given birth to a baby girl, and a year later, another boy. Ray admitted they’d talked about having one more child to make it an even number, but then his wife claimed she was done pushing out babies. He had watched MacKayla with Micky’s children and knew there would come a time when she’d talk about wanting children.
He and Ray talked about Frankie and the mounting charges that, if he were found guilty, would send him away for a long time.
“His lawyer is still working to see if he can be released on bail,” Kenny said to Ray when they’d gone for a walk away from the house.
“How much do you think the judge would set the amount?” Ray questioned.
Kenny shook his head. “I don’t know, but it has to be around at least half a mil.”
Ray clasped his hands behind his back as he continued walking. “I can’t even count that high.”
“I can,” Kenny said, deadpan.
Ray stopped and met his eyes. “What are you saying?”
“Frankie’s uncle left me and my mother a lot of money.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, how much did he leave you?”
“Try a million each.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No, Ray. I’m not kidding. My mother transferred most of her share to me, because she wouldn’t be able to continue living in public housing claiming that much money. I used a portion of my inheritance to purchase the co-op and deposited the rest in treasury and tax-free municipal bonds. So far, I’ve been fortunate enough not to touch any of it. And if Frankie needs money for bail, I’m willing to give it to him. Now that we’re talking about money, I’m thinking about drawing up a will, and if anything were to happen to me, I’d like for you to inherit whatever I own.”
“No, Kenny. What if you marry, shouldn’t your wife and kids be the beneficiaries?”
“Right now, I don’t have a wife or kids. And if I do marry, then I’ll add a codicil, leaving everything to her. Better?”
Ray smiled. “Much better. I like her,” he said as they began walking again.
“Are you talking about MacKayla?”
“Of course I’m talking about her. She’s so different from the other women you used to date.”
“That’s because she isn’t a skirt I need to chase,” Kenny teased.
Ray gave him a soft punch on his shoulder. “Good for you. Looks like you got some sense in that big head of yours before your hair turned completely gray.”
Kenny ran a hand over the cropped salt-and-pepper strands. “I’m not as gray as Frankie.”
“That’s because you haven’t lived the life that Francis has. When I went to visit him he admitted that if he’d listened to his uncle, he wouldn’t be looking to spend the rest of his life in prison. He said Frank had predicted that women would be his downfall, and unfortunately it became a reality when he took up with the likes of Sophia Toscano. And that wasn’t even her real name.”
“Do you think I should pay someone to do a background check on MacKayla Harrison?”
“Stop it, Kenny! You know for a fact that the woman is a schoolteacher.”
