Read Online Bad Apple by Anthony Bruno - Free Book Online

it. His undercover identity gave him license to be totally Italian.
    â€œI’m nasty with you because you’re an infantile jerk who sells dirty movies for a living. Do I need any more reason to be nasty to you?” She sounded very logical and reasonable as she told him off, and for some reason that made her even more appealing to him.
    â€œHey, Gina, you make it sound worse than it is. It’s good wholesome stuff I sell. Softcore, that’s all. I’ve got sex therapists who buy from me. They tell me my stuff is very therapeutic. Perks their patients right up.”
    â€œOh, shut up.”
    â€œNo, I’m telling you the truth. I don’t do hardcore. No snuff, no heavy bondage, no animals, and definitely no kids. Never ever would I deal kiddie porn. It turns my stomach just thinking about it.”
    His stomach gurgled.
    She looked at him over her glasses.
    â€œI’m telling you the God’s honest truth, but I can see you don’t believe me. You’ve just got it in for me, that’s all. But I don’t know why. I’m a nice guy.” Tozzi flashed a cocky grin, thinking Santoro. “I’m very sensitive, too, and you hurt my feelings. I gave myself to you that day, and look what I get for it.”
    â€œWhat’d you say?”
    â€œYou heard me. I gave my heart and soul to you, and this is the thanks I get.”
    She picked up the package of walnuts and flung them at him. It hit his shoulder and broke open. A downpour of walnuts hit the linoleum, rattling and clicking, rolling all over the place.
    â€œNow look you what you did,” he said. “Was that necessary?”
    â€œPick those up,” she snapped.
    â€œYou help me.”
    â€œPick those up!”
    Tozzi stooped down and picked one up, grinning up at her, being a real wiseguy. But inside he was still wondering about her and Bells, hoping it wasn’t true.
    â€œI said, help me pick those up.”
    â€œIf I do, whatta’ya gonna do for me?”
    â€œGo to hell!”
    â€œC’mon, Gina, I’m kiddin’—Hey, where you going?”
    â€œTo the bathroom. You mind? And I want those things picked up. I’m serious.”
    Gibbons was listening through the headphones. He crossed his brows and looked over at Dougherty, the surveillance technician who was working the equipment. Gibbons still had the toothache, but it seemed to be in remission for the moment. He knew it was only temporary, though. Eventually the sledgehammerwould start up again. They were parked down the block from the DeFresco house, sitting in the back of a dark blue FBI surveillance van with B & B PLUMBING AND HEATING painted in white and red along the sides, listening to Tozzi flirt with Freshy DeFresco’s sister. Gibbons couldn’t figure out what they were talking about now, what she wanted him to pick up. He shrugged at Dougherty to show his confusion.
    Dougherty shrugged back. The top half of the technician’s face looked concerned, but the bottom half was overjoyed. Dougherty always had a big smile on his face, no matter what, a big openmouthed smile that gave him that mad scientist look. Gibbons was beginning to think it was some kind of palsy. Either that or he was a born-again Christian. Somehow Gibbons doubted it, though. For most Irish Catholics it’s bad enough the first time around. They don’t need to be born again.
    Gibbons slid the headphones off one ear, but kept them on his head. “Sounds like she broke a string of pearls, doesn’t it?”
    â€œI don’t think so.” Dougherty’s eyeballs were tucked up under his lids as he listened. He pointed to a pair of VU meters on the console, their needles relatively still now that Gina was out of the room and Tozzi was by himself in the kitchen. “The sound wasn’t quite right for pearls. It would’ve been higher in pitch, a sudden cluster of sharp clicks. This was much lower, and it