Route 66

The opening prologue of my novel.

Laura was sitting in the window seat of her downtown Atlanta loft apartment looking down as the streets were being washed by a storm that had blown in off the ocean. Below her perch she could easily see the side entrance to Panini’s Italian Ristorante. It was a forest green wooden door partially hidden by the overhanging canopy that ran the entire length of the building. The door was used as a means of shuttling VIP customers in and out of the private dining room so as to avoid having them mobbed by throngs of people in front. On this particular night a long, black Lincoln Town Car limousine sat parked next to the curb in front of the door. It had been parked there for quite some time waiting to ferry its livery off to another destination.

The green door swung open and a man in a dark tan trench coat emerged into the shadow under the canopy. Laura watched as the man quickly moved from the shadow into the light. She recognized the man’s face immediately even as he disappeared into the waiting limo. It was Anthony James “Little Tony” Cantrelli " the mob boss of Atlanta. The driver scurried around the car and drove up to the corner where the long black Lincoln made a right-hand turn onto Peachtree Street and disappeared out of sight.

No sooner had the limo disappeared, a man burst from the back door of Panini’s into the alley. He froze momentarily then turned to his own right and began running up the alley away from Laura’s view.

That’s strange. She thought to herself.

Five minutes passed and a large, gray Chevrolet delivery van pulled up next to the curb where the limo had been parked earlier. Ten minutes after that, the van drove away and followed the same path as the limo; turning right onto Peachtree Street.

Eight months later…

 

Laura sat in the court room of the U.S. District Court in Atlanta as seven men and five women filed into the jury box. The judge sat stoically behind his bench as the men and women took their places. To Laura’s right at the front of the room sat three men in black suits staring straight ahead. On the left-hand side of the room and directly in front of Laura sat “Little Tony” Cantrelli in a grey suit. Next to him was a man that appeared to be in his late 50s. Cantrelli studied the jury members while the older man stared straight ahead.

When the jury was finally seated, the judge asked, “Madame Foreperson, have the jury reached a verdict?”

A woman stood up, “We have your honor.”

The bailiff walked over to the woman and took a piece of paper from her. She carried it over to the judge who unfolded it and read silently without changing the expression on his face. He then folded the paper and handed it back to the bailiff who returned it to the woman.

The judge said turned to Cantrelli and said, “Will the defendant please rise.”

Cantrelli and the other man stood up and faced the jury box.

The judge then turned to the jury and said, “What say you?”

The woman unfolded the paper and began to read aloud. “We the jury in the case of United States versus Anthony James Cantrelli of Atlanta, Georgia find the defendant, Anthony James Cantrelli as follows: Count one, conspiracy to commit murder we find the defendant guilty. Count two, murder in the first degree we find the defendant guilty. Count three, conspiracy to obstruct justice we find the defendant guilty. We the jury also having taken into consideration the status of the victim as a federal law enforcement agent find the defendant guilty of murder in the first degree of said law enforcement agent and are therefore required by law to recommend the death penalty as prescribed by United States Code.”

The judge replied, “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, your service is complete. You are dismissed with the gratitude of the court.”

The 12-member jury stood up and left the room. In the hall they were quickly escorted out of the building through a series of back elevators and tunnels leading to the parking garage. In the courtroom the judge looked Cantrelli straight in the eye.

“Mister Cantrelli. Are you aware of what has just happened here?”

The older gentleman spoke, “Yes your honor, my client is well aware of his conviction.”

The judge continued, “Mister Cantrelli, I wholly agree with the jury’s decision and therefore order you to be taken into custody by the bailiff and processed for transfer to the federal penitentiary at Terre Haute, Indiana where you will be executed by lethal injection six weeks from today barring any granted appeals. We are adjourned.”

Laura stood up next to U.S. Marshal Daniella Stevens. In front of her stood Keith, the young man who had burst through the back door of the restaurant. He had been the main key witness in the case; actually having witnessed Cantrelli pull the trigger that ended the FBI agent’s life. As they began to make their way out of the courtroom, Laura’s purse caught on something and spilled onto the floor. Daniella stopped to help her pick up the mess. As they began to stand up, gunshots rang out in the court house. People began screaming and Daniella shoved Laura back down to the floor. She pointed to the opposite end of the row and said, “Move that way, NOW!”

Five years after his conviction, Cantrelli walked out of the federal penitentiary in Terre Haute a free man.  In spite of having been convicted, his lawyer was able to convince an appellate court that some of the evidence had been tainted and that due to the primary eyewitness having suddenly died, there would be no way Cantrelli could have a fair appeal process.  The judge agreed and set the conviction aside.  Within six hours of his release, Cantrelli was back home in Atlanta with several of his lieutenants waiting to meet with him.  Among them was a cocky guy named Mark Murphy.  Mark had ambitions as big as all outdoors, but he was too cocky for Cantrelli’s liking.  Cantrelli tolerated him only because he didn’t have a reason to get rid of him.

After the meeting was over, Mark approached Cantrelli with a proposition.

“I have a strong, solid lead on someone in whom you might be very interested.” He began.

Cantrelli looked down his nose at Mark.  “What could you possibly have that I would want?  Hmm?”  Cantrelli pushed passed Mark.

“Does the name Laura Ann Parker mean anything to you?”

Cantrelli stopped.  Slowly he turned back to the sawed off fireplug that had previously blocked his path.  Mark straightened himself up, extending to his full six feet three inches in height, passing Cantrelli, who stood a mere five feet eight inches.  The seven inches of height difference became glaringly apparent and it made Cantrelli uncomfortable.  But that name meant more to Cantrelli than any intimidation factor.

“All right, Murphy, what do you want?” Cantrelli said eyes narrowed toward the giant.

“Simple.  I can get you Laura Parker.  It’s a snap and she’s just waiting to be picked off.”

“What…do…you…want?” Cantrelli said very deliberately.

“Five hundred thousand dollars.”

Cantrelli didn’t even flinch.  He could gather that much money in less than fifteen minutes with two phone calls and no one would ever know what happened.  “You’ve got something else up your sleeve.” He said.  “Don’t play games with me.  You know how badly I want that girl in her grave.  Half a million is peanuts.  You’re up to something and I want to know what it is before I let some cocky b*****d like you hand me something like her.  Talk.”

“It’s really quite simple, Mr. Cantrelli.  Give me half a million dollars, I give you the girl.  There is one additional stipulation.”

“I knew there was a catch.”

“I want complete control of your Kansas City operations.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t bullshit.  You want the girl.  The half million is seed money for me to start my own legitimate business in Kansas City to use as a cover for running your former interests.”

Cantrelli reached up and grabbed Mark’s shirt and pulled him down so the two men were face to face.  “Now you listen to me.  Nobody and I mean nobody takes James Anthony Cantrelli for a fool.  If I give you the money, you damned well better hand me the girl or so help me I’ll make sure you end up in the ground somewhere and they won’t find your miserable carcass.  You understand me?”

Mark looked deep into Cantrelli’s eyes.  Then he began to smile.  “I think we have a deal.”

“WE got nothin’.  You got a job to do.  Now here’s how this is gonna go down.”

Mark interrupted, “Hey, I’m bringing you the girl, you just bring the money.”

“Shut up before I put you in the ground myself.  You bring her to me alive.  You got that?  I don’t care if she’s in the back of an ambulance on a ventilator; I want that little snitch alive.  If she dies before I get the chance to talk to her, all bets are off.  I find out you killed her, you die.  Got it?”

“Mr. Cantrelli, I…”

“I said, ‘got it’?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.

Cantrelli released his grip on Mark’s shirt and walked away.  When he was in his car, he turned to his lieutenant and said, “I want him followed every single step of the way.  I don’t want him sneakin’ out with the goods.  If he so much as even slightly deviates from our plan I want him dead.  I’ve had it with him.  This is his last chance with me.”

The lieutenant nodded slowly.  “I’ll take care of him �" one way or another.”

Author's Note

I've noticed some changes that happen when I cut and paste into this format -- mostly with punctuation. The prologue is finished and I am well into the book.

Reviews

[India Brooks]

I am dying to find out what happens! My only pointer is to include some punctuation, like commas, in some places to help it flow a little easier. I loved your opening! Well done!! :)

[none]

Oh this is good! I love the suspense!