Coming Under Fire

I wake up in my hotel room with a slight headache from the wine. My phone is ringing on the bedside table. I quickly pick it up and check the readout. Its an unfamiliar number so I answer it in my most professional voice.

"Hello?"

"Uh yeah, is this Gina Scambolli?"

"Yes it is. May I ask whos calling?" Even though I already know.

"Yeah, its Vince Giambati. We met last night at the bar in the Ritz."

"Of course, Mr. Giambati. How are you this morning?" I fall back onto my blissfully soft pillows and stick my bare leg out of the sheets, rolling a piece of my hair around my finger.

"I'm good. I've been thinking about what we were talking about, my work situation."

"Yes, your co-worker."

"Yeah. I, uh don't feel comfortable talking about this on the phone. Can you meet me downstairs for coffee?" He asks. I throw myself out of bed.

"Of course. I have some things to finish up and then I'll be right there."

We hang up and I rifle through the clothes I brought, thankful I brought dress clothes and casual. I put on the same white shirt from last night and a pair of black pants. I do my makeup in record time and pull my bangs back, letting the rest of my hair fall around my shoulders. My shoes are beside the door where I kicked them off last night. I slip into them, grab my purse and run out the door, checking to make sure it locks behind me.

Giambati is waiting in the same booth I watched him from yesterday. It almost makes me suspicous, wondering if he knows what I'm up to. I decide to keep going along with the jig, and sashay up to the booth and plop down.

"Good morning." I say, breezily.

"Morning." A waitress comes over and I order a cup of coffee and a glass of water.

"So, what can I do for you, Mr. Giambati?" He leans forward, so I do the same.

"The guy, name is Scott Leary. He's Irish. Worked for the boss for a few months, but none of us ever liked him. He's real sneaky, always on his phone and when you ask him anything he's real snippy, like mind your own business, ya know?" He says.

"You think he has something to hide."

"Exactly. He's real secretive."

"Well, I will work my magic and see if your suspicions are justified, and I have a feeling they are."

"Great, and uh, you're gonna keep this on the down low, right?" His voice is in a near whisper. I realize how serious he's taking all of this and know I'm safe.

"Trust me, Vince, I'll keep this real low." I pat his hand a pop up from my seat.

"Time for work. Take care, and please if you think of anything else that you think might be useful, don't hesitate to call."

I walk as fast as I can without running to the elevator and as soon as the doors close, I burst out laughing. I get out my phone and dial John's number. Once again I get voicemail.

"I've got a name. Scott Leary. Giambati thinks he's shady. Call me, damn it." I hang up, feeling irritated. I havent heard from John in over 24 hours and I'm getting anxious.

As soon as I get to my room, I change into jeans, a fitted black hoodie, my black Converse's and a black Bruins cap. I pack up all of my stuff and then use the hotel phone to dial the valet to get my car ready. I go down to the lobby to settle my room service bill, keeping my head down. I don't want Giambati to

spot me.

When I'm checked out, I grab my car, tip the valet and put the pedal to the metal.Frank works in Boston, and while its a huge city, I don't want to chance him spotting me either.

The drive back to Lawrence is uneventful, I don't find anyone tailing me and still no phonecalls. When I get to my apartment I find a note on my door.

"You can run, but you can't hide." - RP

I tear the note from Robert Plumerri off my door, disgusted that Scully's man didnt see him saunter right into my building. When I walk into my apartment nothing feels off. I do a detailed walk through and find nothing out of place, no goons hiding in my closet and no more threatening notes. I dial Frank's number.

"Yeah?"

"I'd like you to bring in Robert Plumerri. He's been to my apartment twice and its getting old." He sighs.

"Hello?" I ask.

"I'll get the word out. Do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Stay in your apartment and keep your doors locked?"

"I can't do that. Its Tuesday." He blows out another sigh.

"Shit, dinner. Ok, I'll see you then."

"OK."

I hang up and unpack my bag, leaving my gun on the kitchen counter, just in case some big, bad mobster bursts in.

At about five thirty, I hop in my car and drive to my parents house. I'm the first one here, which is rare. I stomp into the house and drop my purse on the floor. Everytime I step into my parents house I feel different. It feels cozy and safe. Everything is about family here.

I call a hello to my dad as I pass the living room and go through the swinging door to the kitchen. My mother is standing over the stove, brushing melted butter over four strombolli's.

"Holy crap, Ma, you made enough for an army." I say, walking over to her. I lean with my ass against the counter, watching as she puts two pans in the oven. She looks at me and shakes her head.

"I didn't make too much, and you look like a teenager. Good lord, Isabella, you're thirty." I roll my eyes.

"Make yourself useful, go set the table." She says.

I blow out a sigh and pull out a stack of plates and head out to the dining room. It's then that I realize I have two extra plates. John and Dom's. This earns another sigh. I take the extra plates back to the kitchen and get napkins and silverware. The front door opens and Frank and his family walk in. His two boys, Frank Jr and Michael run to me and hug me.

"Hi, Aunt Izzy!"

"Hey, guys. Hows ball?"

"Great! I hit a run yesterday." Frankie says.

"Wow! Thats great, bud."

"You'll have to come to one of their games sometime." Frank's wife, Sophie says, kissing my cheek and handing me my 3 year old niece, Angela. She squeezes my neck and I kiss her head. Sophie moves into the kitchen with the boys. Frank stays with me.

"Whats the deal with Plumerri?" He asks.

"He's looking for John, I don't know the reasoning yet."

"I wish you'd let me in here."

"I'm not keeping anything from you. Thats all I know." He pats Angie's back and she turns and waves at him.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Hey, Angie babe." He takes her from me, kisses her cheek, then carries her into the kitchen. Frank Jr and Michael race from the kitchen to the living room and I follow them. My dad is watching the news. The boys sit on the floor and wrestle. I take the couch and pick up a newspaper from the coffee table. Frank comes in and sits down next to me.

Carmine steps in the front door, yelling to announce his arrival.

"Honey, I'm home."

"Jesus, would you pipe down? I'm tryna watch the news here!" My dad yells.

Carmine plops down next to me and slaps the bill of my cap down.

"Whats happening?"

"Nothing interestinv. Where have you been? I havent seen you in forever."

"I just came from seeing Dom."

"Mmm."

"He said you got in a fight."

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"He's real upset about it."

"Hey, I don't wanna hear anymore about Dominic tonight. Your mother has been real torn up about this and tonight is the only thing shes had to look forward to. So, not tonight." My dad says in a low voice.

Frank, Carmine and I all stare at him with our mouths hanging open. Our father isnt the kind of person who makes his opinions about family drama

known. He usually only talks about sports, the economy, cars and food. He never seems to be paying attention until he suddenly blurts something out like just now.

Sophie walks into the room, breaking our stunned silence.

"Dinner's ready."

We all file out to the table, ignoring the two empty spots, instead focusing on filling our plates and passing the salt.

Dinner goes by normally and I leave with my regular bag of leftovers. When I get back to my apartment parking lot everything feels normal and quiet. No threatening notes on my door. Good deal. I unlock my door and step in, feeling calm, reviewing my tv schedule. I flip on the light and John is sitting at my kitchen table. I squelch a scream and instinctively slam the door. He has no reaction.

"Jesus, I thought you were dead. Why haven't you been answering your phone?" I ask, tossing my purse to the couch.

"I got your messages. I was busy."

"Well maybe next time you need my help, I'll be busy." I say, crossing my arms over my chest. I've been fixing for a fight all day and now that he's here I'm ready to get into it.

"Look, I'm here now. I havent exactly been living pressure free, ya know?" He stands up.

"Yeah, I do know. I've been chatting up mobsters and getting threatening notes and I have my brother up my ass."

"Who's leaving threatening notes?"

"Plumerri."

"I need to know more about Plumerri."

"Well, I called Frank. He's gonna bring him in." His mouth twitches in anger.

"Dammit, I wish you would have let me in on that desicion."

"Kind of hard when I can't get ahold of you." He slams his flat hand down on the kitchen table.

"Dammit Izzy, I'm sorry! I can't answer all your calls right now. I understand its fucked up. I've got you pissed, Erin's pissed because she wants to come home. There's nothing I can do!"

"So you can talk to Erin, but you can't call me. This is the second time you've put her first." I say.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I just feel like I'm your last priority when I'm the only person on your side right now."

"I don't know what to say to that." He turns and walks into the living room. I follow him and take a deep breath.

"Izzy, do you trust me?" He asks. His back is to me and I feel like I'm about to climb a wall.

"I can't really answer that right now." He blows out a sigh.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. He turns and looks at me.

"Its my fault. I keep going over all this shit in my head. I know you feel betrayed. And these rumors about me and Erin don't help."

"No, its stupid. I don't believe those."

"Still, I understand how it makes you feel. If people were talking about you and some other guy I would kill someone." He says.

"My insecurities are the last thing you should be worried about."

"I worry about you."

"I worry about you, John. Thats why I'm so upset about you not answering my calls. I thought you were dead." He walks over to me and pulls me into a hug. He holds me tight against his chest and I dig my fingers into his back.

"We good?" He asks. I nod.

"Good. Now, tell me about Giambati." We seperate and go back to the kitchen. He gets us each a beer, then leans against the counter, all business.

"He's totally loyal to Scully. He's positive this guy, Leary is the rat."

"I looked up Leary."

"And?"

"He used to be in big with the Irish mob in Boston. He moved to Lawrence this year and him and Scully suddenly became tight."

"Any reason to believe he's the rat?"

"I'm checking with some people who know him."

"People from your past?" His eyes momentarily darken.

"Yeah."

"If Frank gets ahold of Plumerri, what do you want to do?"

"I don't want you any closer to Plumerri than you are right now. He strikes me as dangerous."

"Maybe he works for the Irish." I say.

"Nah, Lawrence is too small a piece of real estate for them to care about."

"We need to find Leary, find out what his deal is." He runs his hands through his hair.

"I feel like we're running around in circles." I take his hand and squeeze it.

"We'll figure this out, babe. You and me." He smiles.

"You and me, cupcake."