Chapter 20: The Haunting Past

After I got back from the airport, I snuck out the back and watched Tony’s house from the orchard. There was no sign of activity. His bedroom light was on just as I’d left it.

Three hours later our phone rang. It was my dad. Marissa had arrived in Seattle safe and sound. She was starting to get strung out, so he took her directly to a clinic where she voluntarily admitted herself. My dad told me that the treatment lasted two weeks and during the first week she wasn’t allowed any outside contact. I thanked him profusely.

At six p.m. I drove into work to meet Agent Ferraro, just like I’d promised. Three agents spent over four hours taking pictures of all of the documents I had in my possession relating to Tony’s businesses and personal finances. I was exhausted and went to sleep in a chair until they were finished. Agent Ferraro thanked me and assured me that the U.S. Attorney would have a chat with the District Attorney to get my drug charges dropped.

I don’t remember most of the drive home, but I fell into bed and was asleep in minutes. Mid-morning the next day, I got my gloves and went through the orchard to the back of his house. I had to make sure that he wouldn’t bother us anymore, so I entered his house through the French doors. I prayed that he wasn’t waiting for me with a gun, but the house was eerily quiet. I went upstairs and Tony was lying peacefully in bed. His body was cold. I didn’t hang around but stole back to my house.

I called the number that I’d found in Tony’s company file for his business partner. After talking to a goon, I got put through. “Mr. Monassario this is Brad Henderson. I’m the neighbor of your nephew Tony. You met us; or rather you met my wife at his housewarming party.”

“Oh yes, I remember your charming wife; lovely little thing.”

“My wife’s been helping him decorate his house and...”

“Oh yes, he’s told us all about it. He says she’s very, very good at, uh, decorating.” I could hear the mirth in his voice. Tony obviously had been bragging that he was fucking my wife to his cronies. “So, tell me why you’re calling.” He was almost laughing. “It’s not about your wife is it?”

“Well, not exactly. Mr. Monassario is this phone, huh secure?”

There was a short pause. “Mr. Henderson why don’t you give me your number and I’ll call you back.” I gave it to him, and he called me back within ten minutes. “Now what’s this all about?”

“Well sir, I have some bad news.”

“What news Mr. Henderson.”

“Well sir it’s about Tony. My wife went over to his place today and apparently, they shared some drugs. She called me at work a couple of hours ago, nearly hysterical because she couldn’t get him to wake up. I told her not to call anyone else and to wait until I got home. Once there I found Tony in bed.” I paused dramatically. “Mr. Monassario, Tony was dead, and I thought that I should call you instead of the police.”

“Fucking junk,” his uncle said. “I’ve warned him not to take that stuff. It was very wise of you, Mr. Henderson, to call me about this. I appreciate you not calling the police it will save his mother a lot of grief. I’ll come over and take care of everything.”

“Thank you sir, I appreciate it. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“Just thanks for calling Mr. Henderson. I think I owe you one.”

“Well, there is one thing. One of Tony’s associates was going to visit me every month to make an, uh, collection.”

“Don’t worry about it. Forget that shit. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Monassario.”

“My best to your lovely wife.”

“Thank you sir.”

Three hours later two Cadillacs drove by and I heard distant doors slamming coming from Tony’s. They were there for almost two hours; then more slamming and they drove by again.