Enforcer: A Prequel Novella to the New Mafia Trilogy by E. J. Fechenda

his cell phone. Rico, Al, Marco’s cousin, Big Tony, and
Joey D. were sitting around a booth. Marco hung up the phone when we
approached.
              “I have a clean-up crew on the way, Grant, we’re
keeping this shit internal. I don’t want to deal  with cops or the fuckin’
insurance company. You and Joey D. are going to go through all of the camera
footage. I need to know who the fuck did this.” He swung his arm out, gesturing
at the destruction, the movement causing his jowls to shake. “They’re fucking
with my business,” Marco turned his attention back to me, “I’m trusting you to
find out who is responsible.”
              “Yes, sir. I’m on it. Joey, come with me.” I
called over to my second in charge of security. He extracted his hulking form
from the booth and walked over. We left to go to my office. As we were walking
away, I heard Marco tell Miranda she needed to call the staff and let them know
not to come in. Marco was calling in favors to have the furniture and booze
replaced. He wanted to make sure Crimson was only closed for one night.
    As soon as we were in my office with the door closed behind
us, Joey asked, “You think it’s someone who works here?”
              “Yeah, I do. I was with Miranda last night and
watched her set the alarm so I know it was activated.”
    Joey raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You were with Miranda
last night, huh?”
              “Dude, not like that.” I laughed and shook my
head. I proceeded to fill Joey in on the rumblings Marco had heard about
someone targeting Crimson, but he didn’t know who. “We need to keep our eyes
and ears open. Let’s keep it between you and me until we know more. It could be
anyone.” Joey agreed and we each pulled up a chair to review the security
tapes. The main focal point of my office were the six monitors mounted on the
wall above the desk. Cameras were set up at the front and back doors, the
loading dock, the entrance to the parking lot the valet company used, and at
the corners of the building. All footage was stored online through a secure
cloud site. The chair squeaked when I leaned forward to log in.
    We started going through the footage, focusing on the entry
points to Crimson, and about two hours in, we got lucky.

 
CHAPTER TEN
     
    We were clicking along, going frame by frame when a figure
appeared at the rear entrance. The time stamp was 5:04 a.m. Based on the build,
I guessed the person was a man. He was wearing jeans and a plain gray hoodie
that was pulled tight over his face. He kept his head down and a baseball cap further
obstructed the view, preventing identification. I zoomed in and enhanced as
much as possible, before the image became too pixilated, looking for any lead.
Hitting play with the speed slowed down to a crawl, Joey and I watched as the
guy used a key to open the back door and that’s when I saw something and
quickly hit pause.
              “Do you see that?” I asked Joey, pointing at the
enlarged image.
    Joey leaned forward, squinting at the monitor. “Son of a
bitch,” he said.
    We were staring at tattooed fingers and there was only one
person who worked at Crimson with the word “Pain” inked across the knuckles of
their left hand. It was bad enough this guy was in fact a Crimson employee, but
he was one of my bouncers and one of Uncle Marco’s cousins. Shit just got a
whole lot more complicated.
              “What the fuck?” Joey asked.
              “Honestly, I didn’t think it would be this easy
and who the hell knows why Mike did this. I’d be surprised if Marco gives him a
chance to explain.” I printed out a copy of the screenshot and grabbed the
paper. “Come on, let’s go break the news.”
    Mike Torino wasn’t Marco’s cousin by blood, but by marriage
and as a favor to Paulina, Marco’s wife, the amateur MMA fighter was given a
job at Crimson. He was a cocky, obnoxious prick, but we tolerated him