Per Verse Vengeance Read online

  Copyright @ 2018 Joseph Sciuto

  Published by Iguana Books

  720 Bathurst Street, Suite 303

  Toronto, Ontario, Canada, M5S 2R4

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise (except brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of the author or a licence from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free to 1-800-893-5777.

  Editor: Paula Chiarcos

  Front cover design: Daniella Postavsky

  Cover image: Photo by Tomo Nogi on Unsplash

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN 978-1-77180-294-8 (paperback). 978-1-77180-292-5 (epub). 978-1-77180-293-2 (Kindle).

  This is the original electronic edition of Per Verse Vengeance.

  One

  Nicholas Righetti looks like a movie star. His demeanor, in sharp contrast, is easy, unpretentious and accommodating. He is clean-shaven with a square jaw, dark brown eyes and wavy black hair that falls forward against his olive skin. He leans lightly against the crowded bar as his eyes dot across the casino floor at the fabulous Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas where Frank Sinatra’s “Lady Luck” vibrates in the air around him. His eyes suddenly become transfixed on the beautiful woman walking toward him.

  Schooled and polished, Nicole Tyler would make a tantalizing politician — the first in line to pull the switch on a deserving death-row inmate and then, without any qualm of conscience, she’d go out and enjoy a fine bottle of wine and a delicious meal. She is steadfast in her opinions and has a well-founded mistrust of everything, especially men. Her long dark hair, cut perfectly around her lovely face, bounces up and down in perfect harmony with every measured step she takes. She wears an expensive two-piece white suit that one would expect to find on a well-placed business executive. Her emerald eyes are hypnotic and once transfixed on a certain object they seem to linger on that object long after she has left the room. She is calculating, exceptionally intelligent and more than capable of taking care of herself in the most difficult of situations.

  She slides past the crowd and stops before the only empty chair at the bar, where Nick is standing.

  “Is this chair taken?”

  “No.”

  “You sure? You seem a little uncertain.”

  Nick laughs and pulls the chair out for her. “It’s all yours.”

  She sits down. “Thank you. This is my favorite bar in this whole disgusting town. It’s the only one where you can ask the bartender for a mojito and not get a dirty look.”

  “You don’t strike me as one who is easily intimidated, especially not by a bartender.”

  “I’m not.” She leans forward as she brushes her long dark hair off her shoulder and orders her drink. She continues, “Just passing through?”

  “On my way to Los Angeles.”

  “Me too. Lose much?”

  “Not much … certainly not my pants and shirt … maybe a sock or two,” Nick remarks as the bartender puts a mojito down in front of them.

  Nicole takes a long sip and smiles. “Simply wonderful. Don’t forget to tip the bartender when you offer to pick up my tab.”

  “You’re pretty sure of yourself.”

  “Would you like a taste?” Nicole asks as she flirtatiously offers her glass to Nick.

  “Thanks, but I’ll stick with beer.”

  “I’m not contagious.”

  “Sure you are.”

  “Maybe … but only in a good way.”

  “I guess that depends on your definition.”

  “Do you live in Los Angeles?” Nicole asks, glancing up from her drink.

  “I wouldn’t call it my residence, but I pass through quite a bit visiting family. And you, what’s your reason for going there?”

  “It’s simply the first stop on my farewell tour.”

  “Leaving Vegas for good?”

  “Yes, for good!”

  “Business off?” Nick asks.

  “Seriously, do I look like I’m suffering?”

  “That depends,” Nick replies.

  “On what?”

  “The view.”

  “Well, this is the best view you’ll ever get of me.”

  “I doubt that,” Nick comments as he motions to the bartender to refill their drinks.

  “Two is my limit. Don’t want to dig too deep into your pockets.”

  “So, where is your final destination?” Nick asks.

  “Somewhere I can be invisible.”

  “Like … witness protection?”

  “I don’t think I qualify. At least, not yet.”

  The bartender places their new drinks down. Nicole, once again, offers Nick a taste. “This time you don’t have to worry. My lips haven’t touched the glass.”

  “It’s not your lips that I’m worried about. I simply don’t like to mix.”

  “Scared to get your tippy-toes wet?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You don’t seem like the type to get easily frightened,” Nicole remarks as she takes a sip from her drink.

  “You don’t know me, and if this is the best the view gets, you never will.”

  “Don’t expect me to shed any tears.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Nick remarks.

  “Flying back to Los Angeles?” Nicole asks.

  “No! I’m hitching a ride with you.”

  “Cute … real cute. And what in the world makes you think I’m taking on passengers?”

  “I’ll pay for the gas and drinks.”

  “Sweet, but you’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”

  “It’s a long ride,” Nick remarks.

  “I drive fast.”

  “Not fast enough to hide from whatever you’re running from.”

  “And what makes you think I’m running from anything?”

  “Why else would you want to remain invisible?”

  “Tired of prying eyes like yours undressing me.”

  “That’s the second mojito talking.”

  “I’ve barely touched it.”

  “Yeah, but I could smell the bourbon on your breath the second you sat down.”

  “You must be smelling someone else. This is a bar, after all.”

  “No one is drinking bourbon.”

  “Wow! Very observant … is that a natural gift or did you have to train yourself?”

  “A little of both.”

  Nick reaches for his beer, obviously favoring his right side. One could easily imagine a lingering football injury.

  “You survived some tough shit?” Nicole asks.

  “Probably no tougher shit than you.”

  “Do you have a profession?”

  “Not at the moment. Any suggestions?”

  “Why not train to be an astronaut?” Nicole suggests.

  “But that would mean months and years away from you,” Nick replies.

  “Don’t worry, I can handle it. Remember … I’m the one who wants to be invisible.”

  “But not invisible from me…”

  “And why not you? What makes you so special?”

  “I’m not easily intimidated,” Nick replies as Nicole looks directly into his dark eyes.

  “Is that so.”

  “And I try not to make harsh judgments without knowing all the facts.”

  “And yet … you’ve had no problem profiling me since you saw me across the room.”

  “What can I say … you’re special.”

  “Before and after?”

  “Why would there be a difference?”

 
“Because there usually is,” Nicole replies.

  “I can change that.”

  “It’s too late. I’m retired.”

  “And how’s that working out?”

  “It’s only been a day … but a long time in the making. All that’s left is the paperwork.”

  “And a lot of loose ends.”

  “Yes, but not for long.”

  “You’re not one to forget?” Nick asks.

  “Nor do I forgive.”

  “That’s a tough maxim to live by.”

  “I wasn’t given much of a choice.”

  “Maybe you should look to a Higher Power?”

  “That boat sailed years ago … a lot of requests and no responses. But please, feel free to say all the prayers you want for me.”

  “I’ll put you on the list, but first I need a name.”

  “How about … beautiful girl you met at the bar, who drank the drinks you bought her and then told you to take a hike.”

  “You need to do a little better than that. After all, my time is precious.”

  She stretches her hand toward him. “Nicole … how is that?” she asks as she shakes his hand.

  “Nice. But did you just make that up?”

  “Maybe, but since I doubt you’ll have any better luck than me, it should do … for now at least.”

  She places her empty glass on the bar. “That’s my limit. Time to go pack. Would you like to help me lift some dead weight? I promise, there’s a beer in it for you.”

  Nick pays the bill and follows Nicole to the elevator. “You didn’t forget to leave a good tip?”

  “I’ve never left a bad tip in my life,” Nick remarks as Nicole stops and looks directly at him, smiling softly. “Nice! Very nice!”

  “I didn’t realize you were staying at this hotel.”

  “Just for the day. My lease expired yesterday and I still had a little unfinished business to take care of,” Nicole replies as they get into the elevator. “And your name?”

  “Nick.”

  “Sweet,” Nicole remarks as they get off the elevator and walk toward her room.

  When they enter the hotel room, she goes straight to the bathroom while he looks around, then stops. He squints through a crack between the closet doors then pulls them open … and sees a bald, overweight, naked man tied to a chair, with a bullet hole through his head. Nick stares at the corpse for a long moment. The dead man stares back at him. “You have a dead man in your closet.”

  The toilet flushes and the door to the bathroom opens. “Did you say something? I couldn’t hear.”

  Nick walks toward the bathroom and for a moment, watches Nicole fixing her hair and makeup in the mirror.

  “You have a dead man in your closet.”

  “My God! You really are observant.”

  She applies a finishing touch of lipstick and turns toward him. “And if you don’t help me get rid of him real soon he’s going to start stinking up the room.”

  In a few quick strides, he’s behind her and he grabs her by the arm and turns her around. “Don’t act cute with me.”

  “Get your hand off of me.”

  Nick lets go. “I could call the police.”

  “Maybe if you knew what this son of a bitch has done to me and dozens of other girls, you might think differently.”

  “I don’t need to get involved in this.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

  “Well, if you loved that sister and she was unfortunate enough to be one of the dozens of women under his control, you would’ve been the one who put the bullet through his head.”

  For a moment, Nick sees the pain and suffering in her emerald eyes. He looks back down at the body and across at her. She sighs deeply, closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I guess you don’t have a sister. At least, not one that you love.” She steps around him and walks to the body. She reaches into her pocket for a switchblade and snaps it open. “So are you going to help or are you just going to stand there and look at me?”

  Nick hesitates, but then his feet start moving and as she cuts through the tape and rope holding the body to the chair, he is there to steady the corpse as it falls forward.

  Nicole points to a luggage cart. “We can wheel him down to the service elevator.”

  “Is that your plan? There have to be cameras all over this place.”

  “The cameras on this floor have all been deactivated.”

  “Of course they have. Should I even ask who this guy is?”

  “Why don’t you leave the questions for later … on our way to Los Angeles? All you need to know is that the disgusting pig got exactly what he deserved.”

  They struggle with the corpse but finally manage to lift him onto the cart. Then Nicole walks to the door. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She looks both ways down the hotel hallway, steps out of the room, gently closes the door and walks about a hundred feet to the service elevator. She presses the up button and waits, her eyes scanning the empty hallway like a pair of searchlights. The elevator grows louder as it moves between the floors. When it stops and the doors slide open, Nicole smiles at the empty compartment. She takes off her strappy, three-inch Manolo Blahnik sandals and drops them on the edge of the elevator door, then scuttles back across the carpeted hallway to the room where Nick holds the handle of the cart.

  “Let’s go.”

  Nick rolls the cart toward the door as Nicole, once again, checks the hallway. He pushes the cart out and follows her to the elevator. She’s already busy taking her shoes out from between the doors, then she pushes them wide open. Nick rolls the cart into the elevator and steps out and Nicole reaches in and playfully runs her hand across every button to every floor in the hotel. The elevator doors close as Nick and Nicole walk back toward the room.

  “I’m surprised. No final words for the deceased,” Nick comments.

  “I said my final words just before the bastard departed this world.”

  They re-enter the room and Nicole opens the door to the minibar and hands Nick a beer. She drops a piece of ice into a glass and coats it with bourbon, then sits on the bed. She crosses her legs as she admires her perfectly manicured hands.

  “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “I thought two was your limit,” Nick remarks.

  “Two mojitos.”

  She finishes off the bourbon and looks down at her watch. “Time to go.”

  She gets up, zips up her one piece of luggage, grabs the handle and starts toward the door.

  “Wait a second.” Nick takes out his phone. She turns around and before she can get a hand up to block her face, he takes a picture.

  “What the hell is that for?”

  He takes another. “Insurance! Even though, I doubt you could walk through any crowded building without at least a hundred guys remembering you.”

  “Cute … now why don’t you delete them like a nice little boy?”

  “I don’t think so,” Nick replies. “I’m staying at a different hotel. Give me an hour and I’ll meet you behind this one. What are you driving?”

  “A black Jag. Don’t be late,” Nicole warns him, turning to the door. “Patience,” he says, following her. Then he opens the door for her and watches as she walks down the hallway.

  Nick enters his hotel room, flicks on the light and walks to the window on the far side. The heavy drapes are open and for a long moment, he stares out at the lights of Las Vegas. Then he turns and walks to his suitcase that lies on the bed, opens it and reaches under his clothes. The .38-caliber revolver is cool as he slips it out, then reaches in again for its holster. He attaches the holster to the back of his belt, then places the gun into it and looks into a mirror to make sure that his sports coat conceals the weapon. He turns the light off and walks out of the room.

  Two

  Through the driver’s side mirror of her black Jaguar, Nicole sees Nick walking toward her. S
he watches him like an appraiser inspecting a piece of art, then gently presses down on the button to unlock the passenger door. Nick tosses his luggage onto the backseat then pulls open the front door and sits down next to her.

  “Right on time,” Nicole remarks.

  “Think I wouldn’t show?”

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

  “That’s not very nice.”

  “I told you, I don’t play nice.”

  “Well, you better start.”

  “What’s that suppose to mean?”

  “If you really want to be invisible, it’s a lot easier if you stop playing the mean girl all the time.”

  “And how would you know?”

  “Experience, sweetheart.”

  Nicole slides it into drive and they head down the Vegas Strip.

  “How long have you lived here?” Nick asks.

  “Seven years.”

  “No final words before leaving this desert paradise … for what I presume is your last time?”

  “No.”

  “No friends you’re going to miss?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Stupid question.”

  A traffic light turns red and Nicole slams on the brakes, sending Nick’s luggage in the backseat flying. “Sorry about that. The lights in Vegas have never been in sync. You think I’d be used to it by now.”

  When Nick turns to rearrange his luggage, she glances at his backside, where his holstered gun is sticking out from behind his sports coat, and sighs.

  The light turns green and she continues down the Strip. “So do you have many friends here in Vegas?”

  “Not a one. Just business associates.”

  “And what type of business are we talking about?”

  “Nothing you’d be interested in … that is, if you’re serious about staying invisible.”

  Nicole turns off the Vegas Strip and onto Highway 15 toward Los Angeles. She drives about fifteen miles, past the new construction sites and communities springing up all around Vegas, and then hammers the brakes and veers off the road at a desolate, dimly lit stretch of the highway with the desert on both sides.

  “I think my back tire might be low. I’ll be right back.” She gets out of the car and walks around the back as Nick keeps an eye on her in the rearview mirror. She opens the trunk and blocks Nick’s view. She pulls out a small-caliber pistol from inside the trunk, then slips toward the passenger door and puts the gun against the back of Nick’s head.