Chapter 29

Andi strode purposefully through the house, her reading glasses near the tip of her cute nose. Like the twins pointed out to Paul once, when Andi has her reading glasses on, she’s all business. She kissed each of the twin’s goodbye and made them promise to be good for poppa and Aunt Lucy, then headed out the door. Paul had just finished punching in the address of South Boston Hospital, where the conference was being held into Andi’s GPS. He hopped out of the Explorer, held the door open for Andi, and as she buckled in, she swapped out her reading glasses for aviator style sunglasses.

“Hey baby,” said Paul softly.

“Yes daddy?”

“I’m worried about Frank, I’m afraid he’s going to make a stink and I want to protect you legally and financially as well as physically.”

“That’s what Lucy was hinting at, we talked this morning. She’s worried too. Of course, I want you representing me.”

That’s what he needed to hear. “I’m on the case, darling.”

“I gotta go, I’m going to be late.”

They kissed and then Paul asked, “If the reading glasses personify Dr. Roberts, who is that behind the shades?”

Andi blew him a kiss through the open SUV door window, then pushed the sunglasses down. She peered over the top of the aviator sunglasses and gave him a wink. “Andi Granatelli.” And she was off.

As soon as she was gone, he went to work. Paul spent most of the day in his home office up on the third floor. Officially, it was the attic. It used to be a bedroom with a bath; he loved the huge round window he could look out of and watch the seasons turn. Besides, after a hard day of work, he found it easier to go down a flight of stairs to bed rather than up one.

Almost every one of his calls turned up something on Frank Rosetti. It was embarrassing. Didn’t this guy know how to hide anything? Paul decided he was being charitable by calling him a Jamoke, he was a Denver scumbag trying to be an East Coast badass and failing at every turn.

Financially, he was in dire straits, which was going to be good to know. But it wasn’t until he started interviewing Frank’s business partners and his poker buddies that he found out about the Regal Dream. The Regal Dream was a 72-foot yacht that Frank owns, or did own, that was now repossessed due to the fact that Mr. Rosetti failed to keep up with the payments. Paul then called the bank that now owned the Regal Dream and asked them a few questions.

The bank wouldn’t answer any questions, but the next few calls went to many of Frank’s associates who had no problem talking to Paul. The reason Frank couldn’t keep up with the payments was because Frank thought he was a world class gambler, and he sucked. Frank also thought of himself as a legal marijuana kingpin when in reality his grow houses put out low grade ditch-weed. Paul’s stomach turned when he found out how foul this man really was, and his “poker buddies” had no problem ratting on him. One call led to another, and another and another, until Paul called the Denver county DA’s office and asked a few questions about specific Colorado laws.

Then Paul called Frank.

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