Vinny hung up the phone and stared out the window into darkness.  He had spent countless days staring out that same window as a child, watching the pines dance slowly with the wind.  He’d watch the lazy waves of the lake flop more than crash onto his beach.  All he could see just then was darkness, darkness and that damn German’s eyes.  He had eyes like a rat, really creeped Vinny out.  Whether Vinny liked it or not, he would be seeing that creepy son of a bitch soon.

The Blitzkrieg, that’s what they called that creepy, German freak.  Vinny didn’t have any idea what the guy’s real name was, but he knew his reputation.  They called him The Blitzkrieg because of the way he handled his art.  He was a cold-blooded killer.  There wasn’t anything cute, no signatures, no toying with his prey, just murder.  He handled his kills quick.  If your name made his to do list, you’d have as long as it took him to get to you before you were dead, and no more time than that.  He was fast, deadly, and completely overwhelming.  That’s why they called him The Blitzkrieg.

Vinny’s stare continued to pierce the thick coat of blackness that sat on the other side of the window.  He shivered slightly, imperceptible to all but himself.  That damn German really did freak him out.  The Blitzkrieg definitely wasn’t the mind behind this job.  He was the middleman.  Whoever was the boss on this hit was big time.  Vinny tried his best to make sure everyone knew that he was big time, but he was smart enough to realize that he hadn’t quite made it yet.  The Blitzkrieg would never have hired a bunch of nobody’s to pull off a job for him.  In fact, he wouldn’t be hiring anybody period.  On top of that, he wouldn’t be wasting time with any kids.  Whoever was putting the squeeze on Stiletto Rose had enough pull and power to have an ice-cold assassin playing baby sitter for him.  Vinny shook his head, trying not to think about what kind of players were in this game with him.

“What’s up?”  Jimmy snapped Vinny from his trance.  “What’d the boss have to say?”

Vinny’s tone didn’t carry the note of condescension that it normally did.  He sounded more distracted than anything.  “He said we should sit tight.  He’s on his way with our money.  He’ll be here in a few hours.”

“So that’s it, we’re done?”  Jimmy shrugged.

Vinny sighed, “I guess.”

Vinny walked to the kitchen to grab a beer.  Butterflies danced around his stomach like it was an old ‘50s sock hop.  He needed to relax.  His guts were as twisted up as his mind was.  He couldn’t tell if he was eager for the German’s arrival, or if he hoped the guy would be late.  This job couldn’t be done soon enough.  He was getting used to the idea that he had killed somebody.  Actually, he was starting to think it was kind of cool, something he might do again.  There was big money in doing hits.  That Blitzkrieg had to be loaded.  What a life that would be.  Roll up in a Benz, whack some mob boss or congressman or something like that, and then roll away to a big, fat payday.  Instead, he was stuck like a rat in a cage, guarding a hunk of cheese and waiting for the cat to show up and take the cheese farther away from the mouse.  Vinny wanted to be the cat.  He was tired of being the rat.  He took a pull off of his beer, pouring it down his throat into a stomach that was still tied in knots.

Vinny looked back at Jimmy, “Go wake the albino up.  I gotta’ get those kids ready to roll for the German.”

Jimmy shook his head as he chuckled, “You know he hates when you call him that.”

“Fuck do I care what he hates?”  Vinny fired back.  “I’ll knock him in the fuckin’ head right after I knock you in the fuckin’ head.  He’s the only one sleeping.  Wake his ass up.”

Jimmy recoiled slightly at Vinny’s tone.  He had been a bit tense through this whole job, so Jimmy had been cutting him some slack.  Being treated like a dog was getting tiring though.  “Hey man, relax.  Don’t get so wound up.  I’ll go wake him up.  But you ain’t gotta’ yell at me like that all the time.”

Vinny started to respond and instead shook his head, waved Jimmy off, and started for the basement stairs.  Jimmy just watched him go.  He knew that if he wanted to he could pound the shit out of Vinny.  The only thing saving him was that he had all the connections, he had put the job together, and Jimmy wanted to get paid.  Once this job was finished though, Jimmy Pappalardo would be done with Vincent Valentino.  He went to the back bedroom to wake Lenny.

When Vinny got downstairs, both kids were sleeping and Danny was dozing off in front of the TV, partially watching cartoons.  Vinny shook his head.  Where did that idiot find cartoons on at two in the morning?  He flipped on the light.  Nobody moved.  He walked over to Alyssa and gave her a little slap to wake her up.  She came around quickly, but she was obviously groggy.

“What?”  She mumbled.

“Let’s go bitch.  Get up.  We gotta’ get you brats ready to move.  Somebody else gets to baby sit your little asses now.  Thank the lord I don’t have to look at your ugly face much longer.”  He jammed his big mug into face, egging her on.

She ignored his attempts to give him another reason to smack her.  She didn’t want to get hit anymore.  Instead of responding, she mumbled, “I have to pee.  Can I use the bathroom?”

Vinny laughed, took another pull off his beer, and said, “Piss your pants bitch.  You don’t have time for a bathroom break.”

Alyssa sighed, “I can’t.  I couldn’t even force myself to.”  Then she started whining, “Come on, please.  I really have to go.  Come on, there are four of you.  Where am I gonna’ go?”

Vinny just kept laughing at her, “Piss your pants bitch.  Come on baby, just let it out.”

She sighed again, “Why do you have to be such an asshole?  What did I do?”

Vinny’s hand shot out like a cobra and caught her on the cheek again.  He didn’t know why he wanted to rough her up.  The German had made a point that he and his boys were not to lay a finger on the kids.  He couldn’t help himself though.  Maybe it was the excitement of keeping prisoners or something, but he really wanted to knock her around.  It got him excited.  The urge to rough her up was even stronger than his fear of the German.  He smacked her again.

“Stop it!”  She screamed as tears rolled down her swollen cheeks.  “Why are you hitting me?”

It was too late to stop.  The moment had him.  He grabbed the back of her hair and yanked her head back.  “You want me stop smackin’ ya’ bitch.  Well try this on for size then.”  He dropped his beer and began fumbling with his zipper.  The bottle shattered, earning an ear-piercing scream from Alyssa.

By this time, all of the hollering and breaking glass had woken both Matt and Danny up.  Matt looked over and saw Vinny yanking his sister’s hair and messing with his pants and hollered, “Hey!  What are you doing to my sister?”

Instantly Matt saw a flash as pain rushed through his head.  “Mind your own fuckin’ business kid.  Me and your sis just want to get to know each other a little better.”

Matt could barely see a thing through the purple haze that had filled his eyes when Vinny slapped him.  That didn’t matter though.  He had to protect his sister.  That’s what his dad had always told him his job was when he wasn’t around.  If Vinny were smacking him around, he wouldn’t be doing anything to his sister.  “Leave her alone, jerk!”  Matt yelled again.  He had a little more power in his voice now.

Vinny let go of Alyssa’s hair and stood in front of Matt.  He chuckled, shook his head and undid his belt.  “You ever been whipped kid?”  His voice was a growl of a whisper.

Matt took all of the courage he had, leaned his head back, and said, “Fuck you, you greasy, piece of shit, wop motherfucker.”  He had heard that line in a movie once, right before his dad turned it off.

Vinny whipped Matt across the face with his belt.  “Got anything else to say you little fucker?”

Matt straightened his head back up losing the fight against the tears filling up behind his eyelids.  They flooded down his cheeks.  Still, he continued.  As long as Vinny was beating on him, he’d leave Alyssa alone.  “My mother hits harder than you.”  Smack.  He was blasted again.

Then Danny finally stood up.  “Hey Vinny!  Knock that shit off!  You said we wasn’t supposed to touch those kids!  You lost your fuckin’ mind?”

Vinny spun around and faced Danny.  His eyes were wild as a sneer barely contained his clenched teeth.  “Mind your own fuckin’ business!”  His voice remained a growl, “This is my job, my ride.  I’m callin’ the shots on this motherfucker.  You work for me.  Get your ass upstairs and start packin’.”

Danny fidgeted a little as his expression betrayed his fear, but he stood his ground.  “No man.  You quit hittin’ those kids.  That shit ain’t cool.”  Even though Jimmy and Danny Pappalardo were the same age, Jimmy had always been bigger than Danny.  He was older too.  To him that meant that he had a right to knock Danny around any time he wanted when they were growing up.  Years of abuse at the hands of his older twin had left Danny in a place where he couldn’t stand to see anybody getting bullied, not even when his boss was the bully.

Vinny looked insane.  The veins in his forehead started bulging as his lips moved around words without any sound.  He looked like his head might pop at any moment.  Then he finally managed to make some sound, “What the fuck did you just say to me?  You wanna’ step to me now?  What if I don’t stop?  Huh?  What the fuck are you gonna’ do about it bitch?”  As soon as he stopped talking, he spun around and cracked Matt with his belt again.  Both sides of the kid’s face were purple and bruised.  His skin had even broken in spots.

Danny started moving toward Vinny, “Stop hittin’ them kids I said!  I swear to god Vinny.  I don’t wanna’ do it, but I’ll beat your fuckin’ ass!”

Vinny just smiled, spun, and whipped Matt again.  It was all Danny could take.  The sight of that poor, little boy crying with his face all bloody and messed up was more than he could stand.  And for what?  All because he was trying to defend his sister from some freak that was going to make her do things that no young girl should have to do.  Danny snapped.  He lunged at Vinny who swung his belt as the big man came.  Danny felt the leather connect with his cheek.  It just pissed him off more.  He stopped and fired a right hook that rocked the side of Vinny’s head.  He followed it with a left hook and then an overhand right.  Blood instantly gushed out of Vinny’s nose.  It had more than likely already been broken that morning by Ramsey.  It bled easy.  Vinny stumbled into the wall and slumped to his knees.  Danny kept coming.

Vinny launched himself up off of the floor, driving his shoulder into Danny’s gut.  It was enough to back the big man up a few steps.  Vinny fired a right hook of his own.  He caught Danny on the chin good enough to send stars dancing in front of the big man’s eyes.  Danny had always been a brawler though.  He could take a punch.  Vinny got hit three more times before he could follow up his right.  He went down again.  This time Danny picked him up and tossed him over the sofa and into the TV.  Danny Pappalardo was a tank.

Danny leapt over the sofa to stay on top of Vinny, but this time when Vinny stood back up, he wasn’t alone.  Danny stopped right at the end of the barrel of Vinny’s .45.  He took a step back as his hands slowly went up to the sides of his head.  Rage instantly fled.  Vinny was acting crazy.  ‘He might just be whacked enough to pull the trigger right now,’ Danny thought.  Before he could stop himself, instincts took over and he reached for the gun.  He tried to push Vinny’s hand up toward the ceiling.  Boom.  The report from the gun filled the basement as hot lead tore through Danny’s shoulder like fire.  Danny slumped to his knees as pain like nothing he had ever felt before ripped through him.  His hand shot up to the wound.  Blood was pumping out of him like water out of a fire hydrant.  The room started spinning as his stomach turned cartwheels.  He tried to look up at Vinny, but all he could see was the smoking barrel of his gun.

“Stupid son of a bitch.”  Vinny growled.

The doorbell rang.

“Shit!”  Vinny hissed as he looked at the ceiling.  “The fuckin’ German’s here.  I’ll kill ya’ later, hero.  Sit tight.”

Danny fell the rest of the way to the ground.  His mind was racing but confused.  He had never been shot before.  The kids were screaming.  This whole job was bad.  If he didn’t die now, Vinny would surely kill him later.  He had to move.  He was too dizzy to get up, so he crawled over to a storage closet to his right.  The kids were on their own.  There wasn’t anything more he could do for them.  He definitely wasn’t messing with the German, and Vinny had proven that he was willing to shoot his partner.  You can’t trust anybody in this business.

Just as Danny got the door closed, he heard more gunshots; first one, then screaming, and then four more shots.  Moments later, there were footsteps on the stair.  There was more than one guy.  The kids suddenly stopped screaming.  More footsteps, this time they were going up the stairs.  Danny felt sleepy.  Everything was silent.  He blacked out.

Shelia slipped along the edge of a line of trees that marked the eastern boundary of Neil and Anna Valentino’s Brookfield home.  The lot was enormous and dark.  Even in the darkness, Shelia could tell that the lawn hadn’t been mowed in awhile.  Apparently Vinny Heart doesn’t do lawns.  She slipped infrared goggles over her eyes.  They were a gift from Rufus, one of the many toys he had given her for the mission.  A quick scan of the back of the house didn’t offer much.  The kids should be in the basement.  They were not.  In fact, there wasn’t anybody in the house at all.  The only heat source she picked up was far too small to be a person, probably a cat.  She took the goggles off and slipped quickly up to the back of the place.

The Valentino’s home was a one-story ranch, but from the rear it looked to be two stories.  It was built into a leaving the basement exposed to a small patio.  Shelia ignored the patio doors into the basement and instead climbed up onto the deck that protruded out from the back of the main floor.  A plunger, a laser cutter, and thirty seconds later she was standing in the Valentino’s kitchen.  Thanks Rufus.  The house was completely quiet.  Where the hell were Vinny and her kids?  She slipped on a pair of night vision goggles – another gift from Rufus – and scanned the house.

The Valentino’s open concept kitchen was part of a great room with a vaulted, cathedral ceiling, a dining room, and a sunken living room.  It was a nice place, but – just like the vast backyard – a phenomenal waste of space.  It reminded Shelia how much she hated the suburbs.  All the open space made her feel claustrophobic, too much atmosphere closing in on her.  She preferred a wall behind her back.  Off to her left a hallway led to three bedrooms.  She checked them all, nothing.  Next was the garage attached to the front of the place, she finally found something.

The Valentino’s garage was more like a giant storage closet than a home for vehicles.  However, amongst the thirty years of garbage they had accumulated was Vinny’s Caddy, parked right in the middle of a mountain of useless crap.  He and his boys had already been and gone with her kids.  An unfamiliar, hollow feeling filled her insides. Where the hell could they be? She was always in control. Not this time though. Somebody else was calling the shots and she had skin in the game. It would be fine if Vinny were just a mark, but he wasn’t a mark at all. He was just a pawn in a game being played by someone far bigger than him. Shelia had to play that game if she wanted to see Alyssa and Matt alive again. If only she knew who her real opponent was.

The garage walls closed in on her as she spun a slow, nervous circle and groped for a handle on the situation.  This was supposed to be the jackpot.  All of the clues pointed in the same direction and she was standing right on the “X”.  Rufus hadn’t offered anything else.  This was it.  If he knew any more, she’d already have it.  Her right hand slowly brushed her hair back away from her face as a slow, deep breath worked its way in and out of her lungs.  She’d been out of the game for a long time.  Doubt was something that had never occurred to her when she was in the biz.  The problem was that now she had baggage and she hadn’t been in the biz for fifteen years.  The lack of control felt completely foreign to her.

She took a couple more deep breaths and talked herself down from her rising state of panic.  Check the car.  The driver’s door was unlocked.  She searched the inside of the vehicle.  There was blood on the front and back seats, total amateurs.  They didn’t even clean the evidence off of their seats before dumping the car in a place that the police would definitely be looking for them.  If she could have gotten her hands on Vinny just then, she would have slapped him for being such a dick.  Instead, she just became more concerned about the condition of her children.  Amateurs are so damn unpredictable.  It suddenly occurred to her that most, if not all, of the blood covering the Caddy’s seats probably belonged to Mark.  She took another deep breath and sighed.  Heat swelled behind her eyes.  ‘Don’t have time to cry,’ she thought as she popped the trunk.

The trunk was empty, but there was a little blood in there too.  Not enough for a big wound or anything, maybe a bloody nose.  ‘If any of those bastards laid a finger on my kids…’ her thoughts trailed off.  Something caught her eye.  It was a gum wrapper, Big Red.  Matt had been in this trunk.  Even though she had already been fairly certain about that to begin with, the simple fact that she now had a clue to support the theory gave her a strange sense of hope.  Matt always chewed Big Red and he always left the wrappers in his pockets.  He had definitely been in this trunk.  But where was he now?

The cops certainly wouldn’t have been out here yet, and if they had they wouldn’t have had time to get a search warrant once they found that nobody was home.  By the looks of the house, Vinny and his boys ditched the Caddy and moved on quickly.  On top of that, the cops would have checked Vinny’s address before moving on to his parent’s house.  No, she was still ahead of the cops.  They’d make it as far as she was soon though.  She had to figure things out.

She grabbed her radio.  Before she could depress the talk lever, Rufus was barking at her.  It startled her so badly that she jumped and nearly dropped it.

“Stiletto, you copy?” Rufus’s voice carried urgency with it.

“Yeah, I’m here.  The kids aren’t though.”  Before she could stop herself, “Are you sending me on a wild goose chase?  I thought you knew everything about everything.  The car’s here with my husband’s blood on it and maybe my kids’ blood too, but my kids aren’t here.  Where the fuck is everybody?”

Rufus’s reply was calmer than it could have been.  “Hey, relax.  I just found something new on this punk ass, something I didn’t see before.  Vinny’s mom and dad have a place on a lake up by Coleman.  My guess is that even though our friend Vinny is an amateur and a big dick head, he’s probably smart enough to know that the cops would make it out to his parent’s house.  They must have ditched his car and headed on up north.  Once you get back to the van, you’ll find that I’ve already loaded the directions up to your computer.  Don’t waste any time baby.  You’re only about two days ahead of the cops.”

Shelia smiled and shook her head, “You’re a prince Thunder.  I’m sorry.  I should have known you’d have an answer before I asked the question.  There’s one other thing.  They left the Caddy a mess.  There’s blood and evidence all over the place.  If he knew the cops would be looking for him here, why wouldn’t he take thirty minutes to clean up?”

“He must be expecting a quick turn on those kids.  Whoever’s callin’ the shots on this deal is gonna’ sever ties quick with Vinny the dick.  Get your ass movin’.  You ain’t got time to be jaw jackin’.”  He was gone.

Shelia slipped back out of the house and headed for her van.  Rufus had made good on his promise.  Her destination was on the monitor when she started the van up.  A three-hour drive stood right in the middle of her immediate future.  As she pulled away, she realized that she was trying to bite her nail through her glove.  She had a lot to be nervous about.  The glove came off and she chewed away.  ‘I wonder how the kids are doing,’ she thought as she got on the gas a little harder.

Steve Huft directed the chaotic scene going on in front of St. Paul’s Lutheran school.  He calmly gave orders as the mob worked all around him.  The investigation into the shooting death of Mark Ramsey was well under way.  Despite it’s circus like appearance, it really was a well-choreographed masterpiece.  Every individual had a role.  Crime scene photographers snapped pictures while detectives scanned every inch of concrete, scouring for evidence.  Detectives had been dispatched to canvas the neighborhood, questioning school staff and area residents, anyone who may have seen something.  The school had been closed for the day and the students sent home.  Lincoln Avenue had been closed from 77th Street to 81st Street and traffic re-routed.  Even the hungry media sharks swarming along the edges of the crime scene were being held at bay.  Perfectly planned chaos, that’s how Steve Huft described a murder scene investigation, perfectly planned chaos.

Steve Huft was an unassuming man, average height, average build, strawberry blonde, thinning hair, and brown eyes.  A transplant from New York, he was now one of the West Allis Police Department’s finest.  He had been a homicide detective for fifteen years before moving to Wisconsin to get away from all of the violence and depression that his career choice had to offer him.  A fat lot of good that did him, this scene was all too familiar.  Worse than that was the constant reminder that he was an outsider among his fellow detectives.  He had managed to become the object of quite a bit of jealousy and scorn.  Being the senior detective after serving only five years in a station didn’t do much to get respect.  Nobody seemed to care that he came up through the ranks of the N.Y.P.D.; all that mattered was that he had less time with the W.A.P.D. than most of the detectives working under him.  Still, it only seemed to really matter when a big case like the one he was on came up.  The forced, almost sarcastic respect he was given was painfully obvious.

John Kominski walked up with his notebook open.  He had been questioning neighbors, doing the footwork of the investigation.  John was three months from retirement and probably Steve’s biggest critic.  After thirty years of faithful service and a head full of gray hair – which he blamed on those thirty years of service – he felt that this type of investigation should be his baby.  His words were so soaked in condescension that they could have been rung out, “Hey boss, I’ve got some goodies for you.”

Steve ignored John’s tone, “What have you got?”

“Well, it appears that our bloody friend was trying to stop an abduction that more than likely involved his kids.  See I deduced that because I’ve been a detective for thirty years and I was able to figure out that Mark Ramsey had two children and two children were taken by force and dumped in the trunk of a big, black Cadillac.  I’ve further discovered, through my intense investigation techniques, that there were four perpetrators.  As of yet, I can only identify the driver or at least the owner of the vehicle…”

Steve cut him off, “Okay Kominski, I get it.  You’re a great detective with a bunch of fucking years on the force.  I am sorry for my good fortune, but this isn’t helping.  Did you get a plate number on the vehicle?”

John eased up a little, Steve was right.  That kind of nonsense should be saved for the bar, after work.  “Yeah, the plate number is VNY HRT.  I already had it run.  The vehicle is registered to a Vincent Valentino.  He’s got a Milwaukee address.  I’ve already made a call and they’ve got their Homicide division looking into it.  I’ve got sketches of all four of the perps.  I’m hoping that Milwaukee will be able to help us identify the other three.  I’m pretty sure that the owner of the vehicle is the bandleader on this one.  He’s got quite a bit on his record, nothing big but Milwaukee knows him pretty well.  With the sketches, they should be able to make the rest of his crew.”

Steve nodded, “Vincent Vanentino, VNY HRT, he must go by Vinny Heart on the street.  Get me everything you can on Vinny Heart.  I want to know where he hangs out, who his parents are, who is friends are. I want to know what this cocksucker eats for fucking breakfast.  You know the drill.  Get those sketches down to Milwaukee.  Also, get me more on the victim here.  I don’t think they planned on killing him and this doesn’t have the feel of a random abduction.  We need to find out what Vinny Heart wanted with those kids.  What about Ramsey’s wife?  He’s wearing a ring.  Do we know anything about his wife?”

John shook his head, “His wife’s name is Shelia Ramsey, maiden name Smith.  Both she and her husband are squeaky clean.  So far I haven’t been able to find any connection to anything that would make somebody want to take their kids.  The only weird thing I’ve got is that there is no record of Mrs. Ramsey before 1990.  It’s like she didn’t exist at all.  I’ve got the boys at the station looking into it.”

“Alright, keep me posted.”  He began walking away and then turned back to add, “Have them wrap this shit up as quickly as possible.  I don’t want the neighbors looking at this mess any longer than they need to.  I’ve got to go brief the chief and then make a statement to the press.  I hate the press.”

Steve’s mind was racing as he slowly walked into the feeding frenzy of reporters just outside of the police tape.  Mark Ramsey was a nobody from Milwaukee’s southwest side.  What would anybody want with his kids?  He didn’t have any money.  He was just an average Joe.  A random act of violence would make more sense than a botched abduction, but this was definitely no random act of violence.  What about Shelia Ramsey?  What happened to her past?  People don’t just appear out of nowhere without any record or anything.  There had to be more there.  He’d have to think about that later.  It was time to feed the sharks.

This is a side note to Stiletto Rose, perhaps a sneak peak at chapter 7.

If you have read Hell and the Hunger, then you know Steve Huft very well. What you probably don't know about him is that the 29 years he has spent on "the force" weren't all served in the great city of Braston. Steve has moved around a bit over the years. Immediately prior to joining the B.P.D., Steve spent a little better than five years as a detective with the West Allis Police Department. What he was doing in West Allis will have to wait until you read chapter 7. So, what the hell does Steve Huft have to do with Stiletto Rose? The investigation into the murder of Mark Ramsey represents Detective Steve Huft's last case with the W.A.P.D. and his connection to Stiletto Rose. You will see him again next Thursday when you read chapter 7.

Now, if you haven't read Hell and the Hunger yet, what are you waiting for? You can order signed copies directly from this site - order now. Weird about people writing in your books? You can find copies that haven't been marred by my pen over at Amazon - Hell and the Hunger on Amazon. Not really into paper? Save a tree and check out the Kindle edition. Amazon has it for only $3.99 - Hell and the Hunger for your Kindle.

Sorry about that. I got distracted. Anyway, let's get back to Steve Huft. Stiletto Rose was actually Steve's first appearance in my work. I started working on Stiletto Rose while I was finishing up Lake of Dragons. I didn't start working on Hell and the Hunger until a couple years later. By that time, I had decided that Steve would be my James Bond or Sherlock Holmes. He exists outside of time and you will find him poking around in many of my stories. Sometimes he will have a small role and sometimes he will be the focal point of the story. He is actually one of my favorite characters to write. I love the way he reacts to the situations that I stick him in. I hope that you enjoy him as much as I do.

Happy reading!

Shelia drove up a long, gravel driveway toward a weathered, old farmhouse.  Rufus made it a point to keep a low profile.  You don’t want to attract any attention to yourself.  You’ve got to try to blend in.  She saw the old man sitting in a rocking chair on the porch that stretched across the front of the place.  His battered bib overalls matched the peeling paint.  Rufus, what happen to your suit?  He had some gray in his hair that she didn’t remember and his super fly goatee had been replaced by a full beard.  He was looking old.

She stepped out of the piece of crap Neon that she had gotten as a loaner for the van just as Rufus stopped rocking and stood up.  He still had a solid build.  The African tank, that was one of the nicknames that her dad had given his best friend and the closest thing to a brother that he had ever had.  His chest still looked like the front of a Mack truck.  Thunder rolls baby, Thunder rolls, for the briefest of moments everything else was gone and she was just a little girl going to visit her only uncle.

“Baby girl!” Rufus shouted from the porch.  “Is that my little girl?  Damn baby, you ain’t changed a bit.”

“Hey Thunder, how have you been?”  She looked him up and down.  “You’ve changed quite a bit.  You look like a black Grizzly Adams.  What happen to your slick suits and sweet leather?”  Seeing Rufus was the only thing in her life she had to be happy about.

“Aw, you know baby.  I gotta’ try and fit in with all the rednecks and white trash around here.  They all look like Grizzly Adams.  They seem to like me better if I keep myself lookin’ like a poor, old slave.  Then they leave me alone.”  He laughed and crouched over, holding his back like he’d been working the field all day.

The puffiness around her nose and cheeks, along with the redness in her eyes betrayed her attempt at appearing strong.  He hugged her as she slumped against him.  “You’ve been cryin’ baby girl.  What happen?  There have only been two times that I’ve seen you cry.  When that piece a shit, wop motherfucker broke your heart and when sweet Miss Alyssa was born.  What’s goin’ on baby?” 

She inhaled deeply as her eyes welled up.  “Mark’s dead and that fucker…” she could barely choke the words out.  Her body shook some as she gave up her fight against the tears.  Rufus held her tight and stroked her hair as she continued, “Vinny Heart, or Vincent Valentino or whatever that snake, bastard, wannabe thug calls himself, has my kids.”

Rufus shook his head.  “Well you really are the mom now aren’t ya’?  Now you know I love ya’ baby girl, but that cryin’ shit ain’t gonna’ help ya’ get them kids back.  And I know that Mark cat was a good guy.”  Shelia looked up through her tears, slightly confused.  Rufus had never met Mark.  He chuckled, “Bet yo’ ass I checked up on him.  Only way I coulda’ known him any better is if I shoved my arm up his ass.  Anyway, ya’ can’t bring him back either.”

Rufus sat Shelia down in the rocker and rubbed her shoulders.  Then he continued, “Now let’s figure out what we know.  This Vincent punk ass Valentino ain’t no pro.  We know that.  If he was, he wouldn’t want any other corpses hittin’ the ground but yours.  No.”  He shook the idea off as if to add validity.  “Somebody else be callin’ the shots, and that somebody’s gonna’ be pissed when the cops start sniffin’ around.  I ain’t figured out who that somebody is yet, but I’m on it.  As for our friend, we caught ourselves a break despite his stupidity.  The cops will be lookin’ for him at an apartment on the east side of Milwaukee.  They ain’t gonna’ find him there though.  He and his ex-girlfriend broke up when she moved to Europe with her family.  Her dad caught a transfer.  Anyway, that’s not important.  What’s important is that Valentino’s parents spend their winters in Miami so he’s left his east side apartment to house sit in New Berlin.  I got the address.”

Shelia laughed despite the tears rolling down her cheeks, “Where the hell do you get all this info Thunder?  You know absolutely everything about everybody.”  She paused a few seconds and then in slightly more than a whisper continued, “What would I do without you?”

“I gotta’ stay connected baby.  You know I got my ways.  Besides, I gotta’ stay one step ahead.  There’s plenty a sucka’s wanna’ see us both dead.  Your head’s been all messed up.  Shit a crack head lookin’ to score a rock coulda’ took you out the way you been warmin’ up to that domestic life.  You got soft.  Somebody had to be lookin’ out for ya’.”  He opened the screen to go in the house but paused halfway through the door.  “As for what you’d do without me, you wouldn’t laugh as much and you wouldn’t have any idea where your kids are right now.”

The screen door slammed shut, tight spring.  “Rufus?”  Shelia began, her tone somewhat distant.  “If you’re so connected, why didn’t you know these amateurs were going to try and take me out?”

“That’s what’s got me scared baby.  Whoever’s callin’ the shots on this thing is like a fuckin’ ghost.  They gotta’ be big time.  I got nothin’ on ‘em.” He said through the screen. He paused for a moment and then added, “But I’m lookin’.  I’m lookin’.”

Shelia stared out across the field of tall grass that posed as a front lawn.  It was so long it looked like wheat.  She remembered it clean and green.  It was still green, but now it looked like a mange of wild hair rustling about in the wind.  She lost herself in its movement.  It danced a sway for her.  After awhile she connected with its rhythm.  It was a lazy waltz, no place to go but right where it was.  She let the tears take her one last time as she thought about her children.  They were probably stuck in the trunk of that Caddy.  Then she thought about Mark.  What did he do?  They were after her.  He just got in the way.  The tears came stronger, almost an all out sob.  She didn’t care for the crying any more than Rufus did, but she had to get it all out.  She’d leave it all with the field. It could dance with her regrets.  She had work to do.

By the time Rufus made it back out to the porch, Shelia was gone.  She was as dead as Stiletto had been thirteen years ago.  She got up from the rocking chair and her eyes met Rufus’s.  A knowing smirk crawled onto the left side of his face.  The girl was back.

“Her majesty, Stiletto Rose has returned.”  He said in the slickest fly guy voice he could muster.  “Don’t let her beauty fool you, this flower’s pure poison.  All best bow in her presence.”

“Quit fuckin’ around Thunder,” her tone was matter of fact and her face almost stoic.  “We’ve got work to do.

“That we do baby girl.  That we do.”

Rufus’s arms were full of pictures and printouts, all the info anybody could want on their good friend Vincent Valentino and his thugs.  There wasn’t anything terribly exciting.  Vinny had a couple run ins with the law.  Drunk and disorderly was probably the most exciting.  There were a couple of minor assault and battery charges, busted collecting for somebody a little higher on the food chain probably.  It all looked like somebody trying to break into the biz.  Like many thugs in the small town dressed like a big city, he just couldn’t play on the same level as the real heavy hitters.

The rest of Vinny’s crew was nothing to speak of.  Jimmy and Danny Pappalardo were twins.  When they were younger they had a reputation of being a couple of brawlers.  Neither one had ever done anything major though.  Rufus’s best guess was that following Vinny Heart around was the closest they’d ever get to being players, and that was miles away from it.

Lenny Weston had one shining spot on his record, attempted murder.  When he was eight years old he tried to kill his parents in their sleep.  He stabbed them both repeatedly with a scissors.  That was damn creepy as far as Rufus was concerned.  Lenny spent some time in the county kook house and was eventually deemed cured.  That idea seemed ridiculous.  How does a crazy stop being crazy?  That just doesn’t make any sense.  Either way, he was a wild card.

“Well that’s all I know baby,” Rufus sighed as he finished his report.

“Oh that’s all,” the slightest chuckle.  “I feel like I grew up with these morons.  Vinny said that they’d be calling me again, but I’m not waiting for them.  I gotta’ get moving.”

“Yeah,” Rufus nodded.  “Let’s get you hooked up.”

He led her back to the barn, home base, the place where all the goodies were.  Underneath the barn was a command center that would have the military green with envy.  Well, greener than they already were.  That was how Rufus stayed connected.  It also held the armory, Stiletto’s playroom.  Rufus had weapons to suit any taste. He had everything from ancient gems – worth more for their historical significance than a nuclear warhead – to state of the art bombs that any military would be thrilled to get their hands on.  Stiletto had her pick.  These were the tools of her trade.  It was time to go to work.

Alyssa’s left cheek stung as she blinked several times slowly bringing her world into focus.  The room spinning before her eyes was unfamiliar.  It was pretty nice, leather furniture, big screen television, hardwood floor, and an elegant throw.  It felt like a cottage though. The walls were covered in wood paneling and the place had that musty, closed up smell about it, like nobody had been there in a few months.  She tried to move her arms, nothing.  Vinny’s face appeared directly in front of her immediately before the right side of her face exploded under the mass of his big right hand.  Her head bounced off the high back of the chair she was strapped to. Vinny’s face spun around with the room.  The ugly bastard just stared at her as she tried to get her focus back. Dad had certainly done a number on his face.  She almost smiled at the carnage that was Vincent Valentino’s nose when it occurred to her that if this guy was standing in front of her, he and his little gang must have got the better of her dad.  ‘I want my daddy,’ she thought.  As the reality of her situation began to sink in, a consuming terror began twisting itself around her spine.  If her dad couldn’t save her, who could?  An attempt to defiantly match Vinny’s stare came off more like the pout of a spoiled child.  She held that defiant look for as long as she could. It only lasted a few moments before she had to look away.

Instead, her eyes wandered the room and found the zit faced jerk that had punched her.  “Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

“Well I guess your jaw ain’t broken,” Vinny’s tone was antagonistic.  He turned to look at Lenny, “You shoulda’ hit the little bitch harder.”

Before Alyssa could stop herself, her gums were flapping, “Screw you!  You think I’m afraid of you?  You guys think your pretty tough picking on a couple of kids.  It took all four of you.  Pathetic.”  Then she looked at Lenny and forced a smile onto her face, “How do your nuts feel big man?”

Vinny slapped the side of her face so hard that he almost knocked her chair over.  It leaned to the right but he grabbed it with both hands and slammed it back to the floor.  Then he shot his face in closer to hers, so close that their noses were almost touching.  A foul mix of juicy fruit and cigarettes poured out of his mouth.  The tense shaking of his body contradicted his calm tone.  “Listen you little bitch, I don’t want to hear another fuckin’ word come outta’ your mouth.  You understand me?  Huh princess?  You got a fuckin’ brain in that pretty little head?  Well if you do, you’d better start using it.  I will knock the fuckin’ taste right outta’ your mouth.  You got me bitch?”

Everything in her wanted to make her nod her head, but she didn’t.  A slight taste of blood filled her mouth from where her cheek had split against one of her teeth.  He had just said that he would knock the taste out of her mouth and yet he had actually just put a taste in her mouth.  That fact struck her as funny enough to make her forget, for just a moment, how afraid she was.  She almost laughed in his face.  Instead, unable to stop herself, she spit on him.  Blood and foamy saliva covered him from the top of his left cheek down to his chin.  Dumb move.

“My dad is gonna’ kick your ass,” she said quietly, as if spitting on him weren’t enough.

Vinny took a step back and wiped the spit off his cheek and eye, “God dammit!”  He grabbed her throat with his right hand and squeezed it hard.  Then he pulled her face close to his and growled, “Your daddy’s dead bitch.  I shot him in the fuckin’ head.  He died like a little, fuckin’ bitch in the street.”  Then he planted a rough kiss on her quivering lips.  “How do ya’ like me now bitch?”

The words coming out of Vinny’s mouth didn’t seem real.  The fact that his lips had tasted like a dirty ashtray barely registered as she began to process his statement.  Could her dad really be dead?  She had never thought of life without him in it.  He wasn’t ever going to die.  She had never consciously thought about it, but just then she realized that she had always believed that he would always be there.  Her head shook slightly as her gaze move passed Vinny, passed the wood paneling, and into a void beyond reality.  Could he really be dead?

Vinny’s laugh brought Alyssa back to that musty, though well decorated, cottage.  All he said was, “Yeah, it’s true.”  Then he pulled out the cell phone that he had grabbed off of Mark’s twitching corpse.  “You’re gonna’ call your mother.  You’re gonna’ tell her your daddy’s dead and she better watch her ass because I’m comin’ to get her.  What’s the number?”

Alyssa didn’t have any fight left in her.  Her bewildered mind raced among random thoughts and distant memories like she was floating through a dream.  Any minute her dad would be shaking her, gently at first.  “Come on baby.  It’s time to get up sweetheart.  Let’s go honey.  We don’t want to be late.”  That’s what he said every morning.  He would never say an of that again.  A tingling started in her sinuses and quickly moved into her eyes.  That tingling quickly spread across her entire face as her eyes filled up with tears that quickly began raining down her cheeks.  “My daddy’s really gone,” she mumbled as she shook her head.  Then she absently mumbled a phone number.  Vinny dialed as she did.  Then he put the phone up to her ear.

After a few rings, she heard her mom’s voice, “Hey baby, what’s up?”

‘It’s not dad,’ she thought.  However, all she could muster was, “Mom?”

“Al?  Why aren’t you at school yet?”  Shelia could tell Alyssa was crying.

There was no response, just a muffled sob.

“Al, what’s going on?  Why are you crying sweetie?”  Shelia’s mind was racing almost as fast as her heart.

Alyssa managed to get a few words out between her sobs, “Dad…these guys…black car…”

Son of a bitch, Alyssa obviously wasn’t with Mark.   “Alyssa sweetie, talk to me.  Where’s daddy?”

“Daddy’s dead mom!”  Loud and clear.

Shelia deflated like a large man had just punched her in the chest.  Her breath raced from her so quickly that she could barely keep up with it.  Her initial reaction was to say, “What?”  Luckily her mouth wouldn’t work right.  That was good.  She didn’t want to hear it again.  She ran a shaky hand through her hair as her eyes darted back and forth, not really looking at anything.  She felt lost.  She felt to blame, even without Alyssa giving her the details that Vinny Heart had killed her husband.  Then phone was being fumbled around and Alyssa’s sobbing grew fainter.

“Al,” she didn’t mean to shout into the phone but she couldn’t control her voice.  Her eyes began filling up.

“Stiletto, you know I got your kids and you know your husband’s dead.  Real hero that guy.  Huh, poor chump really put up a fight.  You’d have been proud of him.  A .45 against your head will slow you down though.  Don’t worry.  He didn’t cry or anything like that.  He went out real noble like.  I wish you could have seen it.  He was on his knees tellin’ me to fuck off when I pulled the trigger.  I put the barrel right up to his head.  Hmm, will you look at that?  I still got his blood on my hands.  Man, let me tell ya’, he bled like a stuck pig.  Wait a minute.  What is that?  That looks like a chunk of brain.”

Shelia finally cut him off.  “Look you son of a bitch, you obviously know who I am and it won’t be long before I know where you are Vinny.”  She paused for effect.  His silence was all the proof she needed that the fact that she knew who he was had registered with his tiny brain.  He knew exactly who she was.  “You know what I’m capable of.  If you’ve been a good boy and done your homework, you already know how I’m going to kill you.  We both know that you’re already dead, but I’ll cut you a break.  You keep your hands off of my kids and I will kill you quick.  You touch my kids and the deal is off.  I’ll do you slow and make you suffer.  I’ll cut you to pieces while you’re still breathing, and then I’ll pack those pieces in a garbage bag and hand deliver them to your mother right before I kill her too.  Do you understand me?”

Vinny’s voice quivered the slightest bit. It was just enough to let Shelia know that she had gotten to him.  “Yeah, well ah…you just um…don’t leave town or nothin’ and ah…yeah well ah…I’ll call you back at this number and ah…give you more instructions.”

Shelia started to respond, but the phone went dead.  She had to go see Rufus.  He had to find out where Vinny Heart was hiding quickly.  The kids were just bait.  Of course, she hadn’t expected that amateur to kill Mark and he did.  All of the rules go out the window when you’re dealing with amateurs.  Sometimes that made them more dangerous than the pros. The only thing she knew for sure was that she had to get to her kids as quickly as possible.  Vinny was a total amateur and he wasn’t playing by any rules.  He was completely unpredictable.