Page 8 of Sam to the Rescue

“Any chance it was David Kessler?” I show him a picture on my phone.

“Nah, same age but my man was heavy set, not skinny. Okay, so these two start arguing about Russians, ray guns, and brainwashing. The old one got so worked up, he almost broke a vein in his forehead. That’s when the bouncer asked him to go. Being the incredible private dick I am, I plopped myself down besides the younger one and asked him what the f-fudge was up.”

“Nice save.” I glance down at Kimmy bouncing on her dad’s lap.

“T’anks.” Joey kisses the top of her head and hands me back my phone. “I buy the dude a beer to keep him talking. He said he didn’t know the oldster from Adam but he did mention how he saw him hanging out at the new gun club. Did you know they put a shooting range in the old pizza clown place on Seventeenth?”

“No way. Mom used to take us there until I told her there was poo in the plastic balls.” I snicker as he smiles and wipes away a milk mustache.

“Oh God, I remember, now. Rose picked up a turd and Mia nearly lost it.”

Giggling harder, I cross my legs to keep from peeing my pants. “It was dried up. It had to have been there for ages.”

“We can hear youz.” Rose pounds on the wall underneath us, which only makes everything funnier.

“Good times.” My cousin wipes his eyes and stands, ending our trip down memory lane. “Kim and I are going to the park. You want me to take yours?”

“That would be awesome. Thanks.” While I pack a go bag, Rose shouts again, “Hey Sam, Frankie is here for his cat. Can I send him up?”

“Sure.”Like I’m going to deny access to a hitman?

When I return, Joey’s brows raise above his distinctive Italian nose. “You and the bum should think about building your own entrance.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious. The last time I checked with the city, I was told we are three thousand and fifteen on the permit list.”

“Just ask my dad to grease the wheels.” He grinds his forefinger to his thumb and I roll my eyes. We’ve talked about his dad many times. I don’t want to owe my Uncle Vinny any more favors.

“Bite me.”

“What’d I do?” My latest guest, dressed in a black jacket, black jeans, and dark sunglasses pops into the kitchen.

“Sorry, not you, I was talking to him.” I point across the table while Frankie helps himself to the breakfast of baby champions and sits.

With a twinkle in his eye, my cousin smirks at the newcomer. “So, how’s biz.”

Mentally, I slap the top of his smartass head but the other man takes it in stride, never missing a beat. “Booming. Now the pandemic is over, people aredyingfor my services.”

“Good one.” Chuckling, Joey takes his nephew out of my arms and when his daughter tugs on his pants leg, he lifts her up in his other arm.

“Later, dudes.” Excusing himself, Joey clumps down the stairs.

Then, Frankie’s fat yellow cat jumps on the table. Together, pet and assassin lap the last drops of milk in his bowl.

When done, he buckles sparkly leather around her body, attaches a leash, and waves. “Bye and t’anks for sitting for Chloe.”

“No problem.”

He bounds down the steps and on the floor below, shouts, “Hey ladies. Have a great day. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

Feet pound down the final set of stairs and as the outside door slams, Rose pokes her head up the hole. “Gawd all mighty. You do know it’s Saturday?”

“Sorry.” Now is probably not the time to remind her she’s the one who insisted me and Suds move into the attic apartment.

The commotion over, I heave a sigh of relief and turn on my laptop.

Time to go to work.

Chapter 5