Free Reno and Son: Don't Mess with Jim (The Mob Boss Series) by Mallory Monroe

scared.”
    “Poor kid.”
    “Yeah, right.   That poor kid got his own ass in this
sling.   That’s what I always fear about
him.   He doesn’t know how to finesse
it.   Now he nearly kills a man.”
    “Don’t say that, Reno.   Let’s pray the guy pulls through.   And who is he, anyway?   I know you had your people look into his
background.”
    “They looked.   His name is Herman Fromme or something like
that.   They call him Costco on account of
he’s always trying to get something for nothing, to get a great deal, but
there’s a million guys out there like that.   His drinking caused his wife and kids to leave him, he works for his
brother-in-law at some used car lot.   That’s it.   That’s all we know.”
    Another car, a shiny Town car, turned onto
the side street also, but this one stopped across the street, at the curb.
    “Listen, babe, I’ve got to go.   Talk to you later.”
    “Be safe.”
    “I will.”   Then Reno killed the call.
    He waited for the signal: the lights
flashing twice.   Once that happened, he
got out of his Porsche, buttoned his suit coat, and made his way across the
street.   The backdoor of the Town car
opened, and Reno got inside.
    John Bruni, the district attorney for Clark
County, sat in the backseat.
    “Nice suit, Reno,” he said as Reno stepped
in.   “Too bad you don’t know how to keep
a nice suit nice.”
    “It’s too damn late for your jokes,
Brune.”   Reno sat down.
    “Alright already.   No jokes.   All serious now.   I reviewed the
case.”
    “Yeah and?”
    “It’s messy with a capital M.   Best I can do is a reduced charge.”
    “No.”
    “It’s the best I can do, Reno.”
    “You’ve got to do better than that.   I don’t want a reduced charge, I want no
charge.   I want all charges against my
son dropped.”
    “Oh, Reno, come on!   He nearly killed a man.”
    “He ain’t dead yet.   That’s why you drop charges now, just in
case.   You make it clear that just
because Jimmy won the fight doesn’t make it an unfair fight.   It was just a bar fight.”
    But Bruni shook his head.   “You’re asking for the impossible.”
    “I’m not asking for shit,” Reno said.   “I’m paying for the impossible.   And I expect a full return on my hard-earned
money.”
    Bruni looked at him.   “Why do I let you do this?”
    “Because you’re a greedy, slimy, corrupt
motherfucker,” Reno said.   “For
starters.”
    Bruni laughed.   For some strange reason, he thought Reno was
kidding.   “Okay, you got me there.”   Then he sobered up.   “What about the cameras?”
    “They weren’t on.   And just in case they were, I have the tape.”
    “Witnesses?”
    Reno reached into his back pocket and
pulled out a list.   He handed it to
Bruni.   “Three names, three signed
statements.”
    “Let me guess: all three will declare that the
other guy punched Jimmy first and Jimmy had no choice but to defend himself?”
    “There ya’ go.”
    “And he made no statements to the cops?”
    “Who do you think you’re dealing with?   That’s my son.   Of course he didn’t talk to the cops, get
outta here!”
    Bruni nodded.   “Okay.   But you owe me, Reno.”
    Reno reached inside his suit coat and
pulled out a thick envelope filled with money.   He handed it to the corrupt DA.
    Bruni accepted the wad.   “You still owe me,” he said as he began
thumbing through it.   Reno began getting
out of the car.   “I mean it, Reno.   You’re still gonna owe me one.”
    Reno looked back at Bruni.   “Drop those charges,” he said, “and I’ll owe
you two.”
    And Reno headed back for his own car.   He was so tired he could barely walk, but at
least he felt as if he was getting somewhere.

 
    Val got out of bed, put on her bathrobe,
and made her way downstairs.   The
doorbell rang again as she looked through the peephole.   When she saw that it was Jimmy on her porch,
she opened the door without delay.