Calderone (Sin’s Bastards MC: Next Generation) Special Edition #3

The sun was just coming up and Leon was still in his silk pajamas. He put his robe on just as his phone rang so he picked up his cell and tapped it. “Yeah, son. Is your woman safe?”

“Yes Dad, she is and we have one man for info, the other I took care of. I want you safe too. I’m coming home to get you.”

“Get me?”

“Yes, and you know why. I don’t want you there anymore.”

“This is my home son, has been for thirty years.”

“It…” Calderone sighed. “I will be there in ten.”

Leon shook his head and patted his robe pocket where his gun hung heavy. No one would get the slip on him. He may be an old man but he was still sharp.

He sat down for a bit and thought about what John, their head bodyguard had reported to him last night. Donny indeed had been stabbed, gutted he’d actually said. The hanging was just for display he’d supposed. Who could have done it right under their noses?

Carmen wasn’t in charge and Donny hadn’t been either. Carmen had willingly left with the bag men that the council had sent to fetch him for holding. He did not tell them a thing. He would face a trial of sorts when this all finally came to light. Rafe was saddened and he looked broken by the shame his grandson had brought to his family’s name.

Leon went over in his head again, mentally listing the men in their employ. With a sigh, he opened a drawer and took out a ledger book. It was an old habit and those died hard. But maybe it would shed some light on this whole mystery. Lord knew they had no other leads.

Then he went out and walked down the hall, book in hand, to the sitting room he shared with Calderone.

His son was already there drinking coffee when Leon appeared. Leon knew he’d be right here when he arrived.

Calderone truly looked anxious like he wanted to start right in on this idea for Leon to leave the house.

Leon raised his hand to keep him silent then he poured himself a cup of coffee and joined Calderone at the table, he pushed the book toward his son. “I had this room swept by the Council’s guard. So we should be safe talking here.”

Calderone lowered coffee cup and seemed to be diverted from his present mission as he took the book. He studied it and raised his eyes to his father. “What am I looking at?”

“These are notes I have made for years on… well, our men. I never told anyone about it though.”

“And why is that?”

Leon shrugged. “This is an old habit I had from the bad days.” He grinned. “Back then, no one trusted anyone. The mob was mean, killers every last one of us. I saw many of my peers catch it in the back right in their own domain. So, I would scratch notes when I got a feeling about anyone. Or I saw some odd expression on an employee’s face even. I don’t know. Could be an eccentric habit but I never stopped.”

Calderone raised an eyebrow. “And you’re wondering if there might be a clue in here?”

Leon sat down and snorted. “It’s a long shot at best.” He put some sugar into his cup and stirred.

Calderone picked up the book again and studied the scratching. “Wow, Dad. Who can read this?”

Leon chuckled.

“Wait…”

Leon looked up at him. “What?”

“Donavan Reardon. You listed this… ‘He committed the murder of Roman Rearden. His own father, due to abuse the man did against his sons and wife. Donavan committed the beating death and was sentenced to twenty to life. Then when he was released, he was caught stalking Cassie Troy in revenge for his brother’s demise.’ Then after that, we took him in. You write here that ‘he seems honest and seemed to have no anger in him for the past.’ ”

Leon nodded as he remembered the last conversation he ever had about this man. It had been with Cassie Troy, Donavan’s niece who he’d blamed for his brother, Flynn’s death until he was told the cold hard truth about Flynn. What Flynn had really done to Cassie and to their own Peaches when they were very young and he’d done the same to many other children. Taking them to Eleonore Pierce and then she would peddle them out like treats for money.

“My dear… I know I don’t have the right to ask but I’m going to anyway. Please forgive Donavan. Right now, he’s feeling all alone in the world and he doesn’t know it yet, but you are his family. Maybe it’s the Italian in me but family is so important. No one should be without someone they can call their own. Donavan might not be ready for it but if you can find it in your heart to forgive him, he might become the man he could be. I see potential in him.”

Then it had been Peaches who had set him straight as to why Cassie never wanted any reminders of the man, Flynn Reardon.

“Grandpa, you just do not know what it was like for Cassie after Flynn gave her to that woman, Eleonore Pierce. She literally used her as a slave and used to beat the shit out of her on a regular basis. Cassie stood up for every other kid in that house and got beat down for her troubles. Pierce threw her tiny little body in a dark basement, after she beat the hell out of her, for days at a time, just for kicks. She left her tied up all alone for days.”

Leon shook his head at the sadness he’d felt for any child to be mistreated like that. “I remember Talking to Cassie about him,” he now told Calderone. “As I felt even then that he deserved a chance at life. A normal life. She hadn’t wanted to have him or any Reardon in her life and she had good reason, too. I know.” He paused. “I think we should make a trip to Troy when this is all over. I miss our girl, Peaches don’t you?”

Calderone grinned. “Don’t forget the kids. I miss them too.”

Leon chuckled. “Well of course, the kids too.” He loved his great grandchildren to distraction. “Never forget them. If not for Cassie, we wouldn’t have any of that today. I thank God every day for her being in Peaches’ life.”

“I do too, Dad.”

“But back to Donavan.” Leon rubbed his chin in contemplation. “He has never given me any sign that he isn’t genuine. He still works in the garage still but he doubles at the Canta garage too.”

“Gregori Canta!” Calderone exclaimed. “The one who handles all the contributions and recorded money for the families.”

“Yeah, but he wouldn’t have anything to do with this. Or Donavan either. It just isn’t in the man anymore. He is quite peaceful, jovial even.”

Calderone raised a brow. “I killed Reardon with my own hand, Dad.”

“Yeah, but the man has been here peacefully for five years now.”

“We need to at least speak to him, Dad.”

“Mmm, very well.” Leon nodded his head as he sipped his coffee. “We should before you jump to any conclusions. But I see him a lot and my radar never goes off.”

Calderone stared at his father. “Radar?”

“Yeah, the asshole radar I have.”

Calderone started to grin, as he knew this would be good. “What?”

“If there are assholes afoot and up to no good, my inner alarm goes off.”

Calderone shook his head as he laughed. “You know that no matter how long it’s been that you are still a Goodfella, right?”

“Hmmph. You do know that word means the opposite right? Badfella really. La Cosa Nostra and all that stupid nonsense. This thing of ours as the old men say.” Leon drank the last of his coffee and smiled. “Ok…Let me get dressed and you need to shower and change I will bet. Then we will go down at eight. Donavan gets here about then.”

Calderone nodded then looked back down at the book. “I might get somewhere if I could read your chicken scratch.”

“Ha-ha!” Leon called from the doorway on his way out.

Donavan turned from the hood of the car he was working on and grabbed a rag to wipe his hands. “Hello Leon.” He smiled. “Calderone. What can we do for you today?”

Leon looked hesitant.

Calderone was a man of no hesitation when it came to this subject. The subject of the truth. “We need to know if you know anything about what has been going on here.”

Donavan paused. “Here? As in the garage?”

“No, son,” Leon corrected. “Here, at the estate.”

Donavan frowned. “No, but I did hear that…well Donny killed himself upstairs somewhere. I have to say…Well, I’m not sorry really.”

Calderone raised his brows. “Really? Why?”

Donavan set the rag on the car frame. “Why? Just ask anyone on the grounds. The man would come in treat and you like dirt under his shoes. Boss everyone around like he was god’s gift to the damn mafia and he just was plain ole rude. I mean he didn’t deserve to die for that but—”

“No, actually he did deserve to die,” Calderone stated flatly.

Donavan stared at him. “Ok, so why? And what is this all about?” He crossed his large arms over his chest.

“Someone wants us out.” Calderone then crossed his arms over his chest. “Donny was part of it.”

“You mean like…” The man shook his head. “Out of the way? Or what do you mean?”

Calderone studied him and he saw what his dad saw. No glint of any kind in the man’s eyes for revenge or any such motive, so he decided to just tell him, “At first, we believed it was just a coup to take over, but we feel now that it is revenge more than likely.”

Donavan’s arms dropped from his chest. “You mean someone wants you… like dead?”

Leon nodded. “We believe this, yes.”

Donavan sighed and shook his head. “I thought…” He bit at his lip.

“You thought what?” Calderone asked.

“Well, I thought he was okay with it. In fact, I thought that we were getting along and that…dammit. It can’t be him.”

Calderone cocked his head at him. “What and who are you talking about?”

Donavan looked hesitant. “Nah, he couldn’t be doing this. I mean… could he?”

“Okay son, tell us who you are going on about.” Leon stared at him.

“Well, after a few years of working here… I noticed things about him. Like things only my family would do, traits you know?” He pointed at them. “Like you two for instance.” He smiled at them. “Did you know that you both have the same walk? Or that you both sound almost the same over the phone?”

Calderone and Leon looked at each other and frowned.

“And like that!” Donavan laughed. “Yes, family traits, or habits that are what they call genetic.”

“Can you please explain what the hell you are talking about?” Calderone asked.

“Well, he had the same traits. That’s what I’d noticed then finally, we got to talking one day and holy moly!”

“Holy moly?” Leon asked looking entirely confused.

“Yeah, I was right. It was true.” Donavan kept nodding.

The two Vincintis just stared blankly at him.

He snorted as if they were both dense not to get what he was saying. “Flynn worked for you both for a long time right? Back when I was in prison? Like thirty years back or something?”

The two men nodded.

“That was how he was able to…” Calderone paused. “…Kill my wife and take my daughter.”

“Yes and he lived under a false name, Theo Bellini,” Leon explained.

“Yes, that’s it.” Donavan nodded.

“And what does that have to do with all this?” Calderone was getting aggravated at this useless round and round conversation.

“Well, seems my brother Flynn was shacked up with some woman near here. And he had a son with her.”

The two Vincinti men stared at him like he had just grown three heads.

Calderone opened his mouth to again, ask who Donavan was talking about, when a shot rang out.

Donavan was smiling one second and the next, he was face down on the floor.

Calderone dove for his dad and laid on top of him, as he held his gun out and swung it all around.