“Shit!”
“Can’t come as a big surprise. The guy was a fuckin’ loser, always cheating at cards. Probably tried to pull that shit with the wrong people. You know those guys in Queens don’t fool around when it comes to losing money.”
“Yeah, right?” I can’t stop staring at Sal’s obituary.
“I’m happy to hear you’re taking tomorrow off.”
“How’d you know?” I ask.
“Glad to see you learned something last night,” Frank mumbles.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing. I gotta go.”
“Yeah, sure.” I disconnect the call and turn the screen toward Samson.
He reads Sal’s obituary, then looks at me. “You said you saw him last night in the garage, and the day before.”
“I know.”
“According to this, he’s been dead for three months.”
“I know.”
“So, what do you think . . .”
“I don’t know what to fuckin’ think anymore.” I massage my temple with my thumb and forefinger.
“Maybe the funeral home got the dates wrong.”
I throw Samson a side-eye. “Yeah, maybe.”
Samson knocks a cig out of the pack on my desk and lights up. “I thought you’d mention all the bullshit we’re having with Pierce to Frank. Maybe have him take care of the problem.”
“Nah.”
“I mean, he’s practically your father-in-law.”
“Not yet.” Marrying Cheryl is another thing I have to iron out. “It took us years to break away from Frank. I’m not stepping in that shit-show again.”
“But it’d be a clean job. We wouldn’t have to involve the Serpents. We probably wouldn’t even know when it went down until we saw it online.”
Samson made a point, but . . . “The only difference is the Serpents will do the job, and unlike Frank, they won’t have their hand out afterwards. We worked too hard to separate ourselves from that life.”
“Once you and Cheryl get hitched, you’re gonna be family whether you like it or not.”
“As long as he stays out in L.A. and we’re in Vegas, it gives me some space.”
“Sometimes it’s hard to separate shit.” Samson cocks his head. “Old habits die hard.
“The only thing that’s gonna be dying hard is that fucker Pierce.”
I look back at my phone showcasing Sal’s obituary. No matter how many ways I twist it, the fact remains. I saw and talked to Sal in the garage twice, or at least I thought I did, way after the date of his death. Then he shows up in my fucked-up dream.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Yeah, four of them.”
