Samantha Flint found herself endlessly entertained by the rift she had caused in the marriage of Redmond and Annette Gardner. But why should she stop there? There was too much fun to be had at the expense of everyone else. In an attempt to learn more about the family she had so seamlessly integrated herself to, she and Foley the barkeep took a trip to the currently empty household of Frank and Laura.
“Foley! Hoist me up here!” shouted Samantha. The awkward little man was more than willing to oblige. “And I swear, Foley, if I catch you creepin’ a little sneak peek up my dress, I’ll call the police and have you arrested for assault! Now, get me in that window,” she ordered.
Foley hoisted the blonde abomination up, and, in fact. Did creep a little sneak peek, and bashfully blushed. Overcome with all sorts of emotions, he lost control of his actions, and dropped Samantha into the shrubbery.
“You idiot! Do a friggin’ push-up once in a while! I’ll do it myself!” she barked, as she began to precariously climb the trellis that laced the side of the house. Foley eagerly followed suit.
Now in Frank and Laura’s bedroom, Samantha looked around, very pleased with herself. “Ah so these are dear Redmond’s parents. How sweet,” she said, picking up a photograph of Frank and Laura. “Dad’s a good-lookin’ fella. I see where Red gets it from…if that’s his mother, on the other hand, well, she could use a little more makeup and a little less Little Debbie.”
As Samantha strolled around the room, she heard the front door open. “Damn it all! That woman forgot my sandwich again!” shouted Frank Gardner.
Frantically, Samantha and her portly cohort darted into a closet, hoping to remain undiscovered.
Steven Bains had had enough of the Falcone’s antics. After doing some research, along with some information from fellow cop Burt McNamara, he found a man by the name of George Cordello. Meeting him in a clandestine bar on the other side of Huntsport, Steven commenced his interview.
“Thank you for meeting me, Mr. Cordello,” said Steven Bains with a sincere handshake. The man only stared at him as they sat down in the back of the bar.
“I want you to know I can’t, and really shouldn’t be doing this,” said George, “But Falcone’s gotten away with too much for too long.”
“That’s just it. I need to find out what he’s done and why so he’ll get what he deserves.”
George paused for a few moments, collecting his thoughts. “I’ll tell you as much as I can as briefly as possible. You know his son, Michael?” Steven nodded. “Well, he’s not a Falcone. You remember that night he killed Johnny Romano? Johnny turned on Falcone. Said he wanted outta the business, but Falcone wouldn’t have it. Johnny and Falcone was good friends. Knew each other as kids and all that. Falcone and that wife of his took in Michael from a distant cousin of his. She weren’t in no condition to be raisin’ a kid. Naturally, Falcone told Johnny. He trusted him.”
George paused, as if to reflect on his betrayal of Peter, rubbing his temples. He continued, “That night, when you saw Falcone shoot Johnny in the head, Johnny was threatening to expose Michael’s adoption if Falcone didn’t let him go. You know how Falcone feels about family. He shot Johnny Romano to protect the boy he considered his son.”
Steven reeled from the information. How was he going to take revenge on a man who was only protecting his family? Steven considered. There had to be something more.