Roz looked at him. He had to know that was a lie. But was that their game? “A black woman in an expensive car had to have stolen it? Really? Is that what we’re doing?”
But they were adamant. She was getting out of that car. And that was why she decided to name-drop. Which she hated. But even those hicks would have heard of Mick. “My name is Rosalind Sinatra,” she decided to say. “My husband is Mick Sinatra.”
The shorter one grinned. “Yeah right!”
They didn’t believe her? “I’m not lying to you. Why would I lie?”
“You ain’t bit more no Mick Sinatra’s wife than I am,” the shorter one said.
“I am his wife!”
“And John Gotti was my brudder,” the shorter one said with a fake New Jersey accent, and then he laughed.
“I am the wife of Mick Sinatra,” Roz said again.
“And I’m the wife of Snoop Doggy Dog, or whatever his name is,” the taller cop said. “Get your butt out of this car and get out now.”
“Okay. Don’t believe me. You’ll regret that,” Roz said.
But the taller officer was already over it. “Deploy your tranquilizer gun now!” he angrily ordered the shorter cop. “How’s that for Mick Sinatra’s wife?”
“A tranquilizer gun?” Roz was floored. Even she knew that couldn’t possibly be standard-police-issued equipment.Was this an arrest, she began to wonder, or was this an abduction?
And suddenly the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. And she did what Mick told her to do from day one: “Follow your gut. No matter what,” he said, “follow your gut. And her gut was telling her to make a run for it!
She was about to sling her gearshift into Drive and floor that gas pedal, but the taller cop grabbed both of her arms and slung her against the back of her seat, rendering her unable to touch her gearshift. She screamed and fought him, biting him as she tried to break free, but it was too late.
The smaller cop deployed his tranquilizer gun with perfect aim and within seconds of that deployment, she was fast asleep.
They finally found the unlock button on the door handle, pulled her out of her car, and then dragged her to their car and threw her onto the backseat. Then they got onto their front seat.
But the shorter cop was looking at his taller senior officer. “What?” the taller cop asked when he saw a quizzical look on his face.
“What if she ain’t lying?”
“Of course she’s lying. That black chick ain’t no Mick Sinatra wife. Come on now!”
“Then why else would the chief order us to bring her in when she was barely speeding at all compared to everybody else out here? And he told us this hours ago. He ordered us to get to Philly and lie in wait for her. Why?”
“I have no idea why. But I guarantee you it ain’t because he believes she’s Mick Sinatra’s wife. I guarantee you that.”
But the shorter cop wasn’t as easily convinced. Because that car alone said she was somebody big. Maybe not Mick Sinatra big. But somebody.
“You take her on downtown,” the taller cop said as he looked on the backseat to confirm she was still asleep. “I’ll drive her car there.”
The shorter cop grinned. “I figured you’d say that,” he said as the senior officer got out and headed to the Maybach.
But inside that patrol car, the shorter cop had a sinking feeling.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Later that night when Mick made it home, Duke was on the sofa strolling through his phone as if he didn’t realize somebody had walked in. Which concerned Mick. Because of Roz’s insistence that Dukenotfollow in his footsteps, Mick hadn’t taught him shit.
Jackie knew the corporate side. She was always asking questions and showing interest in that side. Duke used to show some interest, but it faded away the older he became. Now Jackie was at Howard pursuing her BBA in finance and accounting. She was going to take over for Mick as CEO and probably Board chair when he eventually retired.
But Duke wasn’t interested in anything corporate. Because it wasn’t in his DNA. Just like it wasn’t in Teddy’s. Just like it wasn’t in Adrian’s. Just like it wasn’t in Joey’s. None of Mick’s sons had ever been truly interested in anything but following in the footsteps of their gangster father. Not his business steps. His mob steps.
But Roz refused to accept it. No son of hers, she insisted day and night, was going to ever become a mob boss. They were never going to be about that life if she had anything to say about it. And that was why, Mick felt, Duke was lost.
