“Undercover agents can assume a lot of identities.”
“Are you trying to sow doubt so you can extricate yourself from a relationship because you fear commitment?”
“No, Ray. Mac is the real deal, and I really like her.” There was something about her that reminded Kenny of his mother in looks and temperament.
“Good. So let me know well in advance when you set a wedding date, so I can do the honors. But before that—”
“I know, Ray,” Kenny interrupted, laughing. “I’ll let you baptize me.”
Ray rested a hand on Kenny’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’ve become a mind reader.”
Kenny patted the hand on his shoulder. “Let’s start back before our women send out a search party for us.”
CHAPTER38
Christmas Eve, 1988—East Harlem, New York
Kenny opened the door and pulled Frankie into a rough embrace. “Welcome home, and Merry Christmas.”
Frankie grabbed Kenny’s shoulders and kissed him on both cheeks. “It wouldn’t have been a merry anything if it hadn’t been for you. Thanks for putting up the money for my bail. I did promise to pay you back.”
“What are you talking about? I thought the feds seized all your assets.”
“They missed one,” Frankie whispered.
“Say what?” Kenny whispered back. He knew his apartment wasn’t bugged, but understood Frankie was paranoid because of what Sophia Toscano had done to him.
“Do you mind if we go out on the terrace in your bedroom to talk?”
“Sure,” Kenny agreed, even though the temperature had dipped well below freezing.
“Before I was released, I’d asked the judge for permission to stay in the apartment above the laundromat, and he said yes,” Frankie said in normal tone as they stood outside in the bone-chilling cold. “I had someone come in and sweep the place for bugs, and they found all of them. When the feds came to take the file cabinet with a set of bogus accounting ledgers, they missed the actual ledgers and cash hidden in a safe under a false floor in a closet. Even though I spilled my guts to Sophia about what I’d been involved in, I never mentioned what my uncle had installed under the floor.”
“How much cash, Frankie?”
“Try eight mil.” Reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket, he removed an envelope and handed it to Kenny. You’ll find the money you put up for the bail and a little extra for having to withdraw monies from your investments.”
“But I’ll get my money back once you go to trial. That’s if you don’t jump bail.”
“Don’t tempt me with the suggestion. I intend to stand trial and beat the charges. I hired a couple of barracudas for lawyers who convinced the judge to let me post bail. Eight million dollars is tempting enough to convince a lot folks to change their minds.”
“Are you talking bribes?”
“You said it, I didn’t,” Frankie said, smiling. “You said you needed some advice about a situation that has to do with something that happened to your mother back in the day.”
“Let’s go inside, Frankie. I’m freezing my nuts off out here.” Kenny closed and locked the doors to the terrace after they stepped back into the bedroom. He pointed to the journals stacked in a neat pile on the edge of a padded bench at the foot of the king-sized bed.
“What’s in those?” Frankie asked.
“My mother’s life. I packed them away after cleaning out her apartment and forgot about them until one day last week, when I opened the trunk to get a ski jacket and pantsthat I need to take with me when MacKayla and I leave for Colorado in a couple of days. Come in the kitchen with me, and I’ll tell you what she wrote down.”
“You’re fucking kidding me, Kenny! You’re a twin?” Frankie questioned, after Kenny gave him the unabridged version of what Justine had written.
“That’s what my mother wrote, and there’s no reason for her to pen lies.”
Frankie ran a hand through his thinning gray hair. “But you’re nothing like that pompous loudmouth who looks for every opportunity to have his face in front of the camera.”
“That’s because even though we have the same father, we were raised by different women, who are as different as night from day. The last thing my mother said before she died was that she wanted me to pay the bitches back for ruining her life. I had no idea of what she was talking about until I read her journals.”
