Chapter 42
Las Vegas, NV
THREE TIME ZONES away, in a Las Vegas suburb, an enforcer for a small-time crime family arrived at his small house. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to the first of several glasses of scotch. He drove into his garage and pushed the button that would send the door closing behind him.
He’d just stepped through the door that led from the garage into the kitchen when he felt a small rush of air from behind him, and the world went dark. When he came to, he was lying on the floor in his living room bound hand and foot.
“What the f**k?” he said.
“Be nice, Frankie,” a voice said from behind him. “You and I are going to have a little chat.”
A man walked into view from behind him.
“You.” He spat out the word.
“Hello, Frankie.”
“What do you want?”
