Steven Bains left George Cordello, angry and frustrated. A flurry of thoughts raced through his head. He wanted to hate Peter Falcone just as he had a few hours ago. However, Cordello’s account of Peter’s murder of Johnny Romano compelled him to feel otherwise. The man was protecting his family, albeit in the most backward way possible. Be that as it may, Falcone had set in motion the absolute ruin of Steven’s life. After all, Peter’s “associates” had been after him, so he was forced to fake his death, leaving his wife Diane alone. Diane couldn’t bear to be without her husband, so she actually killed herself. Any way he sliced it, Peter Falcone caused the death of Diane Bains. The thought of Diane was enough to fuel his hatred once more.
Steven thought about his next move. He had to learn more about the Falcone’s as they operated today. He decided he would call Laura Gardner.
“Hello? Mrs. Gardner? It’s about your payment,” said Steven, meaning to conceal his identity should someone else answer the phone.
“Yes, hello…Mr. Smith. I put it in the mail yesterday…Hello Steven. I’m alone now. I’ve been out all day with Elaine and –”
He cut her off, “Mrs. Gardner, I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but I need you to help me.”
Laura’s smile faded. “What are we talking? Do I get a gun? I saw Angela Lansbury shoot one in Murder She Wrote . I’m sure I could–”
“Mrs. Gardner. I need you to talk to Annette. I need you to get her to tell you things about the Falcones.”
Laura was stunned. She reluctantly agreed. Steven Bains would patiently wait, ready at any moment to be the servant of justice.
Samantha Flint and Foley, concealed in a small closet, heard Frank Gardner enter the bedroom.
“Ah, what’s this? Damnit Laura! I know you’re planning a wedding, but clean up after yourself!” grumbled Frank, throwing a date book conveniently in front of the closet. He grabbed a jacket off a desk chair and left the room. Samantha breathed a sigh of relief.
Coming out from their hiding place, Samantha picked up the book and perused it with great interest. She came to a date that especially interested her: April 13, 2012–also known as Elaine’s wedding.
“Ah, so Red’s…darling…sister is getting married, is she? How wonderful for her,” Samantha said with scheming tone.
“Uh, Samantha, whaddaya you care? We’re here for Red, aren’t we?”
“Oh yes Foley, yes,” she said, patting the fat little man, “But I’m family to Reddy and Elaine, and I didn’t get an invitation. I’m sure they just forgot…”
“What do you mean family?” said Foley, characteristically confused.
“Nothing Foley! Nothing!” she shouted. Calming herself, she said, “Now Foley, I’m here to do the thinking. You just stand there and look…er…handsome. I think we should go look for a gift for the ex-Ms. Gardner.”
Foley stared at her, unsure of what she meant.
“Oh Foley! In case you haven’t figured it out, I just want Red to know that I’m here, and that I don’t plan on leaving until he gives me what I want. We’ll just stop in and say ‘hi’. Frankly, I just want to watch him squirm.”
Samantha lit a cigarette and walked from the room like she owned the place. She felt as if she were the luckiest woman in the world.