Bad Man. Bad Daddy?

By Nance Newman

Quinn O’Reilly never thought she would be wrapped up in the world of the mafia, dead or alive, but there she was. It wasn't something she set out to do, or went to college for, but one day, she became the broker for spirits of the criminal kind having to fulfill their unearthly requests. And while the villainous souls searched her out, the live crooks found her as well. As the two worlds collided, her life turned upside down when she discovered her biological father was the boss of a New York City mafia family.
Despite all this, she and her eccentric group of friends set out to help the spirit of a mother who was connected to the mob, save her two children. It would be a séance like no other they had ever done before. Yet through the chaos, their nemesis, Jackie Brown continued to plague Quinn. A woman of evil that knew no bounds, she wanted something this mother had that ended up in Quinn’s hands. Jackie would stop at nothing to gain possession of it.
While this all played out, Quinn finally found new love—a police officer of all people, and she fell hard. She realized it would be almost impossible to enter into a long-term relationship with a man of the law considering her life was so surrounded by evil. Quinn learned this the hard way because Jackie who would never let it happen.
Revenge was never something Quinn thought about. Her Irish parents raised her to be a good, kind and forgiving soul. But when Jackie crossed the line and her biological father showed his true colors, would the walls upholding her moral values begin to crumble?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nance Newman
• Release date: Jan 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005019297

Nance Newman

I firmly believe it is never too late to make your dreams a reality.I worked at Eastman Kodak in Motion Picture film for over twenty years before the company started to downgrade. After that, I was a teacher in Health and Physical Education and completed my years of work in a school district in transportation where I used software to solve the puzzle of getting 5600 students to many different schools as well as train new bus drivers.I am now retired—from work, but not from writing!I have always been a writer, and always will be. Since high school, I have written songs, novels, short stories, and journals. I have one dog—Ela-who is a rescue from the Puerto Rican hurricanes. She has taught me a little Spanish and I have taught her a lot of English.I enjoy being active outdoors in all seasons and partake in many different activities from kayaking, long distance biking, a lot of walks and hiking to gardening. I also love movies—most genres, but especially fantasy and science fiction.Most of all I love to write and tell stories.Please visit me at nancenewman.com because I would love to share my stories and music with you

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Bad Man, Bad Daddy?

Bad Man.

Bad Daddy?

Book Six in the Whispers Series

By Nance Newman

Copyright by Nance Newman

Edited by NTL Publishing

Cover Design: NTL Publishing

First Printing- NTL Publishing December, 2021

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

To my sister-in-law, Debbie. You are one of my biggest fans, and I finished this with your voice in the back of my head, When are you going to finish the next Whispers?

Bad Man.

Bad Daddy?

Chapter One

The pounding wouldn’t stop. I squished the pillow tighter to my ears and rolled over hoping whoever was assaulting my front door might give up. But it had been five minutes since it began, and now there was shouting apprising me as to who the culprits were making a physical and verbal attack on my door.

I couldn’t ignore them anymore.

I climbed out of bed and pulled on my long, fleece robe running my fingers down the smooth material decorated with a pattern of trees and leaves. Too bad the camouflage pattern didn’t hide me from people at my door. Pulling it tight about me, I literally dragged my body to the living room.

I had arrived home from New York two nights prior and lay in bed from the moment I entered my apartment. Captain Gregg, my live-in specter who decided to take up residence in my apartment after my first experience with a séance tried to lure me to leave my bedroom. His usual enticements included music and light shows, all of which originated and took place in my dining room. It was the only room where the ghost could manipulate my earthly possessions. And even though a long hall separated my bedroom from the dining room, I could still hear the music and see bits of light flashing through the corridor.

I felt bad because the captain was trying so hard to make me feel better—to get me to smile. I hadn’t felt like smiling since the day I read the Mafia’s black book full of secrets, some included me. At the very least, the ghostly antics brought me a small bit of comfort.

My life was shattered in the length of time it took me to read the dark, corrupt and destructive words written by men who lived the same kind of lives. I wasn’t sure how to put it back together—how to go on without the shame from learning who I really was.

I believed I was Quinn O’Reilly—daughter of two wonderful Irish parents, owner of a funeral home and engaged to the most wonderful man, Matthew, love of my life.

Then Matthew died, and everything went to hell in a handbag—so, to speak. It was more like after Matthew contacted me from the great beyond, just about every criminal spirit in the afterlife found me and decided to use me as their broker for their unearthly requests. These solicitations (I felt they were more demands) had to be completed in order for them to be satisfied and move on. The most unfortunate thing about these requests were none of them were easy and most were often illegal.

I always wondered why me? Then I found out why when I discovered my real father was a really big criminal himself. To help me through it all were the four people standing in the hallway on the other side of my door knocking and calling to me. Andjela, a communicator with the spirits who seemed more at home working with the afterlife than living in the real world had become more than my best female friend. She was the synchronization to my connection with the specters. She was always one step ahead of them, and she proved it every time she showed up before one of them contacted me.

Chaz was, is and always would be my best friend. He stood by my side through the good, the bad and the ugly. If he wasn’t gay, he might be my husband. The two hundred forty-pound, chocolate brown teddy bear was my life line when it came to dealing with the craziness my life had become.

Chester owned the cemetery where Matthew and several of the criminal spirits I had dealt with were buried. We needed his help to dig up Matthew’s grave so we could put a re-worked spell from The Book of the Dead into his coffin to help him get his message to me.

That brings me to Mr. Princeton who lived in one of the downstairs apartments of the building I owned. A university professor in the studies of Ancient Egypt, he had created a new art or science (I wasn’t sure what it was) by mastering the re-writing of spells from The Book of the Dead. His efforts helped the spirits move on or even get over their anger so they could speak to us during Andjela’s communication sessions. More importantly, he had taken the place of the man I thought to be my father who died with my mother in a car accident when I was sixteen.

I knew the Mafia’s Black Book existed, but I never had any desire to read it. I could have cared less what they had to say. But then Sofia, the ghost of young lady related to a mafia family was taking up residence in my funeral home. She kept insisting I read the book, and since it was her unearthly request, I had no choice.

That led me to the big surprise. And what a whopper it was. I learned of my real parentage—that I was the bastard child of my mother and a New York City Mafia, syndicate boss. Maybe that’s why Mr. Princeton was so important to me. He was a good man and more of a father to me than Vinnie Pentavona would ever be.

After this revelation, I travelled to New York City to inform Vinnie that I had proof I was his daughter (as well as possession of the Mafia Black Book) holding all his secrets in my hands. In return for my silence, I asked that he keep my friends safe. That meant keeping Jackie, currently the head of the Rochester Mafia and a truly sinister, conniving, power and money hungry female who plagued every step we took, away from us.

Which brings me to why they were pounding on my door.

I never told them I was leaving town, let alone where I went and what I did. I simply disappeared after my disturbing revelation. Chaz was with me the night I read the book, so they were all aware of what I discovered. My first and only reaction was to run. So, I ran. I was gone for a few days, and I knew it scared them to death which would make it harder to face them now. But they needed to see I was okay. I also knew they’d want to talk about it—even though I still wasn’t ready to do that. However, if it was what they needed, I owed it to them.

I punched in the code on the keypad next to the door disarming the security system they had all insisted I installed. I sighed remembering in return, I had one put into each of their homes. We were all foolish to think that was all we’d need to be safe. But I was either naïve or just plain stupid. Deep down, my gut told me my friends would never be safe—especially now, knowing my father was a major player in the mafia.

Their voices and knocking stopped when I began to unlock the deadbolts. I took a deep breath and opened the door. At the sight of my friends, I felt the first smile appear on my lips since Vinnie became my father, small as it was,

Standing crowded together were the four most precious people in my life studying me with guarded looks as if they were afraid to say or do something that might make me break into a million pieces.

But that wouldn’t happen because it already did. The only thing left to do was to put myself back together.

Chaz was standing behind everyone and then shoved them aside taking me into one of his strong, yet loving teddy bear hugs. The rest of them stood patiently by watching. When he felt he had enough of squeezing the life out of me, without a word he stepped back and let each of my friends hug me in turn.

I couldn’t help but see the tears in each of their eyes. So, I began to laugh. It was the only thing I could do, and they laughed with me as I opened the door wider and invited them in.

I ran my fingers through my hair and tried to straighten my robe. I must look like such a sight, I exclaimed.

The lights popped on in the dining room, and we stopped to see the table and chairs move to the center of the room courtesy of Captain Gregg, my in-house residual specter. It was strange how the one person I could always count on to look after me, protect me, and warn me about dangers was a ghost doing it in the only way he could. I learned early on my messages from him would be received through the manipulation of my dining room earthly possessions. I had no idea who he was, why he found me or why he stayed, or if he was a male for that matter. But he was actually a bright light in a dark, other world.

The message he was now relaying was one of invitation and gratitude that I wasn’t going to be alone anymore. How did I know? Because as each of my friends approached the table wide eyed at the spectacle, a chair pulled out for them to sit.

Except for the few times they saw his tantrums like the one he threw the night I found out about my biological father they had only witnessed the captain’s escapades after the fact. These included seeing the chairs lined up across the entrance of the room to either keep me in or someone out, or broken China displayed in a pattern on the table meant to give me a clue.

When Andie sat down, she smiled and said, Why thank you, Captain. It’s nice to see you calm.

Chester, Chaz and Mr. P waited politely while their chairs slid out from the table and as they sat, I heard cupboards in the kitchen open and the clinking of ceramic mugs.

Captain Gregg would like to know if you want tea? I asked for the specter, even though I didn’t have to. Their heads were turned toward the kitchen.

Chester placed a large bag on the table that I hadn’t seen him carry in. Tea would go nicely with the breakfast we brought. We figured you might not be ready to go to the diner, so we brought the diner to you. He grinned while unpacking bags of cheese and jelly Danish and containers holding an individual breakfast in each.

It was then I smelled the aromas of eggs and bacon knowing breakfast sandwiches were in the containers—the diner’s specialty.

I’ll help the captain with the tea, I said walking into the kitchen. I kept an ear open listening for their topic of conversation. But there wasn’t much other than pass the pastries and Chaz being admonished by Chester to make sure he saved some for me. That made me smile because the first piece of surprising news I became privy to before my trip to New York was that Chaz and Chester were dating. I hadn’t had time to process this, but I didn’t really have to. If they were happy, then I was happy for them.

I placed the mugs, tea bags and tea pot of microwaved hot water on a tray and carried it to the table. My chair slid out and I sat down. I felt my shoulders sag with fatigue and overwhelming emotions brought on by the weight of the past week’s events. But I swallowed hard to hide it best I could and poured water into everyone’s mug handing them a tea bag as well.

Mr. P put his hand on mine. It was a few seconds before I could meet his gaze. When I did, he smiled that fatherly smile that melted my heart with feelings of love and protectiveness.

How are you? His tone was smooth, gentle and genuine. If it were anyone else asking, I wouldn’t have answered with the truth.

I’m worn out, I answered. It’s like every cell in my body has been zapped of its energy. Then I added quietly, and I’m crammed with every emotion covering the emotional gamut. Yet it’s like I feel nothing because they’re so mixed up inside, they’re blending all together, and I can’t sort them out. I can’t feel happiness, sadness, anger, betrayal, curiosity, love…nothing. Just messed up.

As a tear fell down my cheek, he wiped it with his finger. That’s not true my dear. He held up his finger to me. Just because there’s too many feelings to sort them out doesn’t mean you won’t, and that’s okay. You’ve got everything you need to get through this. Us and time.

That’s right, Quinn. We’re all here for you and you sure as hell better use us. No one could do this alone. Not even you, Chaz added. His face was filled with sorrow and I was ignorant to not think it hurt him that I hadn’t contacted him to let him know how I was or what I was doing. I just hoped that by seeing my pathetic physical appearance, they would surmise I had simply holed myself up in my apartment which was partly the truth.

When was the last time you showered? Andie asked making everyone’s heads snap in her direction as if she asked something she shouldn’t. But that was Andie—always to the point.

Do I smell that bad? I asked.

"Not at all. You just look…ragged. I have found a nice warm shower can often move you a little closer to feeling better.

I’ll take one when we’re done, I said. I’m not going to tell you how long it’s been, but you’re right, I sure do need one.

I tried to smile, but it didn’t come, so to deal with the ensuing awkwardness, I stuffed a cheese Danish in my mouth. The atmosphere in my dining room became one of discomfort and apprehension. I knew they were treading on thin ice where I was concerned and they were most likely unsure of what to say.

I quickly swallowed, took a drink of tea and then folded my hands in my lap. I’m sorry…, I started.

Quinn, Chaz interrupted, but I put my hand up.

Please, I pleaded with my eyes, Let me finish. I’m not feeling sorry for myself. What is that saying? I thought a moment. Oh yeah, it is what it is. I swallowed. But I do feel…broken, and I know it will take time. I also know you’re all here for me. Why do you think I even got out of bed to answer the door?

They looked at me with sympathetic eyes that only made me feel worse.

And I really can’t handle the pity. So please stop. I know it’s difficult for all of you too. I mean what do you say to your friend who just found out their dad runs the mob?

I’ve got an offer you can’t refuse? Chester suggested smiling.

Andi, Mr. P and Chaz’s mouths fell open.

Looking at Chester, I smiled and replied, Girl finds out biological father is a devil mobster. Friends reply with a great line from the Godfather. Priceless.

We all broke out laughing.

When our laughter finally quieted, I said, That’s what I need. For things to be normal—whatever normal is for us. We laughed again. I do need you. All of you, but I need you to be patient with me. I’m not ready to talk about it, but when I am, you will be the first. Until then, well I don’t know. One day at a time.

Are you ready to work? Chaz asked.

Do we have funerals coming up? I’m not sure I’m ready to come back. Larry said he’d prepare the bodies for me until then. Is he too busy?

Their eyes shifted amongst each other and then settled on me.

Great, I sighed. What is it now? I really thought about a long vacation up in the islands. At the very least, a long shower. How much more is a person supposed to take? I slumped into my chair and rolled my eyes.

Quinn, Chaz said in that kind of voice that tells you something dreadful has happened and the person telling you isn’t sure how to say it.

Just say it, Chaz. I took a deep breath realizing I was letting anger get the best of me. Then I breathed out the word, please.

Okay, here it is. Gina is dead, and she requested you to do her funeral. You specifically.

Now my mouth dropped open. Gina. I just saw her. What do you mean she’s dead?

Suicide. Two days ago. I put her in the freezer until I knew you were back.

I sat up swallowing hard to fight the wave of emotions trying to break me down as a single tear ran down my cheek. Gina, Vinnie Pentavona’s sister helped me to get the evidence I needed to prove to him I was his daughter. She gave me a glass he drank out of and a sample of her own DNA so I could have it tested. She agreed to help me because she too had suffered a huge toll for being related to a New York City mob boss. Her husband was murdered, and her own son, Anthony, killed his sister, Sofia. His reason? Because Jackie Brown asked him to.

Every cell of Jackie’s body was pure evil making her goal of becoming Rochester’s mob queen more than a thorn in our side. She was relentless in her pursuit. She made Anthony her boy toy for her own selfish reasons. Because of that, a family was destroyed.

Jackie suspected Sofia had the Rochester Mafia Black Book, which she did at one point. But the young lady took it to New York City to confront her uncle before Anthony could get his hands on it. He found her there, killed her and stuffed her body in the undercarriage of a rusting dump truck in a place called The Hole in Brooklyn.

Anthony was never the sharpest tack in the shed. He didn’t think to ask Sofia where she hid the book before he murdered her. But Sofia talked to me from the afterlife. She led us to her body so her mother knew the truth, and she led us to the book.

The only way I could explain everything that happened was by lame clichés. So, me finding the book and discovering my true identity was, as they say, meant to be. If I ever found out who they were, I’d have to give them a piece of my mind—maybe make up a cliché of my own like crap really is crap, because right then, I felt like my life was total crap.

But I was alive. Gina wasn’t. Her whole world had fallen apart, but I really thought she’d get past it. When I visited her, she was wallowing in her sorrow and multiple bottles of alcohol—a deadly mix if you let it get out of hand. At the time of my visit, she was at rock bottom, but there weren’t any signs that she was going to take her life. I guess for Gina, she felt she had no other way out. Yeah, crap really is crap.

I looked at everyone. This breakfast was just what I needed. But it’s time I take a shower and get back to my life. Then I smiled wanly at Chaz. Give me an hour and I’ll meet you at the funeral home so we can prepare for Gina’s funeral.

Sure boss.

Everyone’s face went blank. If Chaz could turn white, he would have. Instead, his face took on an expression of dreaded guilt. He always teased me by calling me boss. Now, knowing who my father was, they might be concerned it would have a different meaning to me than it did before, and they’d be right. So, they probably weren’t sure how Chaz’s comment would go over.

The only thing I could do was to give him the same response I always did. Don’t call me boss, Chaz. Then I forced the brightest smile I could.

Chapter Two

After a quick shower and changing into a pair of black jeans with an off-white, long-sleeved cotton shirt, I checked my phone before leaving. I hadn’t looked at it since I got back from New York City. I was upset with myself when I saw ten calls from Joe. Officer Joseph Kendall. The policeman who showed up on my doorstep investigating Chaz’s shooting in the now defunct subway tunnels under the city was the first man I noticed since the death of Matthew. I had hoped then he would ask me out on a date. But he didn’t.

I forgot about him until he showed up again always appearing as if he lurked in the shadows looking for the most opportune time to ask me out, but then decided against it. Maybe that’s why I didn’t expect the request when it came. But he finally asked, and we went to dinner.

I liked Officer Kendall. A lot. We planned on another date, but I had to cancel when all hell broke loose with the Mafia’s Black Book. I told him I was busy. I hoped he understood, but why would he when I didn’t return any of his calls?

I stared at my phone. Assuming I probably ruined whatever chance I had with Joe, I stuffed the phone in my pocket and drove to work.

When I arrived at my funeral home, the spirit of Sofia who had taken up residence after her murder was crying. It was soft, more like the whimper of a child who just lost a toy before the all-out crying fest. But I knew her weeping was for her mother. As I walked down the hall to my office, I wondered if her cries would remain as they were, or intensify when I began the process of preparing her mother for burial. I also wondered if her brother was still in the realm of the lost spirits with her.

Anthony died in my funeral home by the ghostly hand of his sister who I believed repaid the favor of her murder. He walked in when we were having a communication session with Sofia. I never found out why, but I could only speculate it had something to do with Jackie. A picture flew off the wall, hit him in the head and he died instantly. However, we found out later it wasn’t the injury to his head that killed him. The coroner said it was a heart attack. I believed that to be true, but not in the way the medical world viewed a heart attack. His heart gave out because Sofia stopped it. That, I was sure of.

There had been some angry occurrences after that. Loud screams of agony, items flying across the rooms, howls and sinister laughter. Andie told us Sofia was torturing her brother. I hated the thought of that, but in a way, I couldn’t blame her. However, if Sofia still had her grips on her brother, I hoped she would contain herself whenever I had funerals. Otherwise, I would have to close my business.

Chaz walked out of his office and down the hall. He stood in front of me studying my face. You hear her, don’t you? Every once in a while, I do too. And you can’t miss the flying objects. Although, it has calmed down a bit.

I unlocked the door to my office.

It could be a novelty, you know.

What could? I asked walking to my desk with him in tow.

"Since you’ve been gone, the two of them have had several fights. Things are flying, lots of rumblings and groans and screams, but nothing breaks. I saw that vase in the first viewing room race across the room and then float back to the table. So, I’ve been thinking. Our new slogan could be And you thought they were dead when they died, or Your loved one will watch as you say good-bye."

I looked up at him. You’ve been putting a lot of thought into this. I guess if they do continue, it could be a novelty.

He grinned as I unlocked my desk. Have you got the paper work for Gina? Then something struck me. Who requested the funeral? Like who is paying for it and who’s planning it?

A large envelope arrived the day you went missing. In it were instructions from Gina and a check. She planned her entire funeral, right down to the flowers, music, words to be spoken at the brief service here, cemetery plot and head stone...and who was to be there.

I sighed. Okay then. Did she request what day to do it?

Not really. It seems she knew you might not be able to do it right away. That’s why she was in the freezer. He put the folder down on my desk so it faced me. Now, she’s on a gurney in the refrigerator. I moved her there when I heard you were back so she could thaw out, and you could do your thing. Okay… He opened the folder revealing a handwritten letter on top. He pointed to the second paragraph. The first line said, I would like my funeral to happen as soon as Quinn returns. He eyed me suspiciously. So, what does that mean?

She knew I was going, I whispered.

Going? Where did you go? How did she know?

I heard Chaz’s voice, but Gina’s letter held me captive. She planned a simple funeral with a white rose and lily flower arrangement in honor of her children and another with sunflowers and dahlias to honor her husband. There was a small list of people she wanted to be notified of her service that didn’t include her brother, Vinnie, or thank God, Jackie. She insisted that I be the one to prepare her body, no one else, thus the reason Chaz had put her in the freezer downstairs when he received the body.

She wrote the name of a pastor to perform the short service with a copy of what she wanted said at the service. She had already purchased a crypt for her husband and two children. She was to join them. The family would finally be together. I just wasn’t sure if that was a good thing—or a bad thing.

I sucked in a deep breath as an overwhelming sorrow spread over me. A few years back, Matthew’s death opened a door to the spiritual world that I had no choice but to walk through. It started a snowball effect that brought an end to an entire family’s demise.

I never knew Gina’s husband, but I knew Gina and her two children. Each one had a tragic ending. And even though their bodies would rest in the mausoleum next to their father, their souls might forever struggle in the afterlife for the crimes they committed against each other and themselves.

Unfortunately, that struggle would most likely take place in my funeral home since Sofia had taken up residence and then pulled Anthony in with her. I wondered how long it would be before I heard Gina, or she tried to contact me—if she even would. I had to hope that she would take the hands of her two children and lead them beyond the world of the specters where they currently hung out—most likely kicking and screaming. Gina would have need a tremendous amount of spiritual strength to drag them through despite their possible protests.

But who was I kidding? Just myself. It was never that easy.

I sat down and looked up at Chaz. How long do you think she had this all planned out?

You tell me.

I leaned back in my chair. How would I know?

I think there’s a lot you’re not telling me and I’m not ashamed to say it hurts me deeply. You still haven’t answered my questions. Like, where did you go?

There was a hint of anger in his voice, yet he appeared to be struggling hard to hold back a small, thin smile on his lips. I knew he was angry with me, but the hint of a smile left