Shana: A Crime Drama

By Dennis Charles Sacco

Fictional story based around my real band, Burgundy Express, which toured Nevada, Hawaii, and mainly the West Coast. The leader of the band gets into trouble with local gangsters and politicians while playing in Las Vegas at the Pussy Cat Ago go.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483542461

Book preview

9781483542461

SHANA

Prologue

CHAPTER ONE

The year is 1969 Las Vegas, Nevada. Las Vegas can be a lonely town, even though there are thousands of people, day or night occupying space in this exciting little city. Everyday there are transient types that draw to this city of glittering lights and casinos. They come from all over the world to gamble, usually staying for the weekend or maybe even a week or two, not wanting to leave. But they do leave. And in the end, you probable won't ever see them again.

If some of these people decide to stay any longer, there is a danger of them getting lost in this crazy mixed up world of sex, prostitutes, drugs, and gambling.

The city attracts all sorts, from the old school Mafia type fellas to the heavy gamblers. And, there are no real friendships that develop. That's how it is here. But, I'm getting use to it. Don't get me wrong, there are also lots of fun and interesting things for families to do here, like going to Lake Mead, the Grand Canyon, or visiting Hoover Dam.

Las Vegas is changing for the better. But at this point, I'm not interested in that aspect of Vegas. I don't have a family with little brats running around. I'm strictly a night life person. Been that way for years.

My name is Tony Manetti. I'm half Italian and half Irish. I'm also lead singer and leader of the band. I also have a part-time detective agency on the side. A few years ago I formed a group out of Chicago called The Express. When we moved to the West Coast, I changed the name to Monterey Express.

We're currently playing at the PUSSY CAT A GO GO in Las Vegas, Nevada from 2 A.M. till 8:00 A.M. six nights a week.

I've been doing this type of gig for so long, I just got used to the people and the long hours.

It's a mixed combination of clientele and a very hip place to play. Entertaining and playing dance music for the afterhours crowd attracts the beautiful show girls, dancers, singers, and comics from the Strip. Unfortunately, it also attracts the thugs, crazy derelicts, and anything else that wanders in off the street. It's taken me and my band awhile to be accepted into the Vegas scene and for us to accept them.

We play Vegas three or four times a year, one month at a time. I don't think we could handle more than a month. I'm afraid one of us might end up staying here too long and then melt away into oblivion. Many of the innocent or naive individuals that come here, especially young women, try to escape the realities of their own lives back home. Maybe they're bored with what they have. Or they are trying to escape to something new and exciting. I really don't know. I've met a lot of women here and frankly, most of them don't seem to have both oars in the water.

And, at first they all seem normal. But, if you're with them long enough, you start to see the inevitable flaw in their character. It might be a little flaw, but a flaw just the same. And, each woman that I meet down here seems to have one. They're all different; from rolling a drunk sailor, to hooking on the side for survival. And, none of them seem to be trustworthy.

Sadly, most of them look like the girl next door, sweet and innocent. And you want to fall in love with them. But don't! Unfortunately, they're a little screwed up! You know the type, "The lights are on, but nobody's home. For me, just the constant changing of the weather can drive me a little nuts.

CHAPTER TWO

At 2 o'clock in the morning, the band arrives at the Pussy Cat wearing heavy coats or jackets. But by morning, we will have to shed our heavy coats and change into our shorts and tee shirts. Sunglasses are a must to hide the bright sunlight. At 8:00 A.M., it's already 100 degrees outside. When we play Vegas, Big John O'Riley, who's my drummer and best friend, is also half Italian and Irish. But, he complains about everything. The cold at night, the heat in the early morning, and the cheap motels where we usually stay.

Big John even complains about the food we eat, even if it's free! He's just grumpy that way. The only time he doesn't complain is when we play Hawaii. We both agreed on that. What a paradise!

Big John is a rugged John Wayne type fellow that acts real tough, but has a heart of gold. John is a big man with a dark menacing goatee and mustache. We were raised in an Italian neighborhood in the suburbs of Chicago and were expected to be tough. In fact, Big John still carries a concealed weapon to the gig, a carry-over from his childhood. Big John doesn't look for trouble, but he has saved my ass a few times in the past. We've known each other since elementary school, both graduating from high school together, getting married and then divorced at the same time.

The Express started out playing gigs on Rush Street in the Windy City. What a great place! And the pizza? Something to die for. What an education we got, music or otherwise. Unfortunately, with the club scene, there's always the fact that the good, the bad, and the ugly will show up. Rush Street is known for it's restaurants and night clubs. Although the patrons vary a great deal, they all have one thing in common. They enjoy the night life.

Chicago also loves to eat and drink, listen or dance to the music. Surprisingly, John has stuck with me through good times and bad. Believe me, there were some bad times. So, it was natural for me to make Big John a partner in my detective agency.

In Vegas, I always keep a small office year round at this cheap motel just off the strip. The motel owner, Miss Rosie, is an ex-showgirl with big voluptuous ta tas. She also let's me and the band stay there and pay by the month. Once in awhile she needs me to hunt down some crud who's trying to stiff her for the rent or some illegal activity going on at her motel.

Basically, it's a favor for favor situation with her. And frankly, she's fun to be around. Playing music is my main line of work. I try to keep the detective business separate and only as a part time gig. It's taken me years to develop this whole detective agency thing. But, it seems to work.

Don't get me wrong. I'm no Mike Hammer or Sam Spade, or anything like that. I just love doin' it. Course, the muscle part comes real easy for me. I use Big John!

This is our last two weeks here in Las Vegas. Then we head to The Warehouse in Sacramento, California where the band has decided to make it their home base.

We really have gotten use to the warmer West Coast climate instead of the cold and windy city of Chicago. Plus, it's too hard to travel back and forth to our gigs in the snow.

Consequently, we have developed more and more gigs on the West Coast. And, the flights from Sacramento to Hawaii are much closer and cheaper than from Chicago.

I've taken up residency in Sacramento. When we're not traveling, I stay there. I have a small office in the downtown area we call Old Sac. Big John helps me run the detective agency and book the band from there. Above the office is my small apartment unit.

Back in Las Vegas, I recently got a call from an old musician friend of mine. He goes by the name, Ronnie Sugar. His real name is Ronald Sugarman. He's a song writer and usually plays piano at Kelly's, over in Palm Springs.

He plays there just to get feed back on his original songs. Ronnie also has a few small business enterprises around town, including Ronnie's, a little French Dip restaurant in the heart of Palm Springs.

Ronnie calls to tell me a story about this beautiful mysterious young blonde. Her name is Shana.

This past year he has mentioned her at least a dozen times. It seemed like he was totally obsessed with her. I could tell he was distraught and asked if I would come to Palm Springs on my day off. He wanted to discuss his concern over her.

We have discussed her many times before, but nothing ever gets done about the situation. This time when he talked about her, it just seemed different. So, I decided to let him bend my ear a little. Besides, Big John and I wanted to get out of Vegas for a while. So on our next day off, we drove over to Palm Springs.

CHAPTER THREE

It was Monday morning with very little foot traffic in the area. A nice time to really have a good conversation. Big John stayed back at the motel swimming, or should I say floating!

I knew Ronnie wanted a favor, just by his posturing and hesitation of the subject. After the usual greetings, Ronnie says, Where do I begin? You better start from the beginning, I said, so I can get a better picture of the situation.

At first, Ronnie was jumping all over, not making much sense of the story he was trying to tell me. I told him to slow down, I had plenty of time. "You know, I'm not a lawyer.

I don't charge by the hour. And, before I get more information about her,... Shana, right? Ronnie nods. I need to find out more about her personal life. Maybe DMV records, what her full name is, and if she has any friends here in town.

Then we could start asking questions. Where does she go? Who does she sleep with? Understand? Ronnie, in anger, That's the point! I don't have a clue. And, don't treat this woman as if she's some kinda whore! She's a goddess and you should give her some respect. Anyway, that's what I need from you! Ronnie calms down. Just, find out where she goes and what she's doing. Okay?" I agreed.

Well, the coffee clutch we just had, revealed a much worse situation than I expected. Now, I have two problems to deal with; try to appease a love sick puppy and at the same time, find this mysterious broad. I needed to tread lightly in front of Ronnie, since it seems he's lost his huevos over her.

Big John's gonna love this! Maybe, I'll catch John in a sweet and caring moment so he could help me... I don't think so! After another cup of coffee, I told Ronnie I'd call him tomorrow. Then, I'd be heading back to Vegas, (the snake pit of the world) and would continue my search from there.

During the next 24 hours, my leads were weak and sketchy at best. I tried to figure out what he saw in this mystery woman. Nobody seemed to like her, except for the men. They all agreed, she was a real knockout, but very