Mr. Mastrosimone's reaction to the name confused Sandy, at first- but then the confusion at the questions that followed overwhelmed the initial confusion. The two men that both happened to find her establishment on business trips to Detroit were business colleagues; but didn't know that the other were in Detroit? 

Realizing that she probably had the face of a chicken looking at a card trick, Sandy re-set her expression and thought back to the first question she was asked first.

"Well, no, I haven't asked anyone if they owned a plane. Shoot, I don't think I've ever known anyone that's got that kind of money."

But if he knew Mr. Dynamite, why would he ask if she had his number? Wouldn't he have it?
Something was trying to make her jump out of her seat, but she willed herself to maintain an easy smile and her relaxed posture.

"He did leave a business card, with a number. I suppose I could call him, if the need arose."

Billy nodded.

"Good, you've got his number, you know he can get you a plane and a room. Sounds to me like you're all set to come visit L.A. the next time you are ready for a vacation, or a long weekend."

He looked back toward the kitchen.

"I know you're only open a short time, but is there anything you run out of if you prepare everything the night before? I am always curious about that. Do people get angry when that happens? I mean, it's not like you can anticipate the needs of the followign day right? But maybe you have a signature dish that you created and everyone is clamoring for that so you've got to get one early, or not get one at all."

He leaned back and took another one of the sweets off the top of the tray.

"I must say these are all very good, but I can't stay for much longer. You mentioned Dynamite, and now I've remembered I have things to do. I think I'll finish my coffee while you tell me about your signatures and then be on my way. Unless you have a trick up your sleeve that might have need of me to stay."

He didn't think this woman had any trick up her sleeve. He was entirely joking, but it would be fun to see her pull something out of a hat if she had it. After all, if she knew Dynamite, she very well could know a lot more about Billy than he did of her. That, of course, was the real reason he was cutting his visit short. He was not a fan of people knowing more about him than he knew of them.

"You know, I find the thing we don't have to make very often is cracklin', which is a shame because it's just delicious, and a good kind of snack to take along with you. Also the pimento cheese, that's the orange looking spread on the sandwich you inhaled a little while ago. Not many people up here know what it is, so the are hesitant to try it, you see. The good thing about it is--"

Jane approached the table with a pot of coffee and quickly refilled Mr. Mastrosimone's cup, then looked at Sandy.

"Miss Sandy, there's a Mr. Car- uh..Carrar...Carara on the phone for you?"

Sandy's eyes flashed briefly at the name, and her cheeks might have burned a bright red for a moment as she jumped from her seat.

"Jane, honey, you can just say Mr. C if he calls, ok?"

Looking back to Billy, she gave an apologetic glance.

"Could you wait just one more moment before you leave? I do have to take this call, but I would like to finish our conversation."

Not waiting for an answer, Sandy walked hurriedly toward the stairs leading to her office. 

Billy nodded, and kept his face as plain as he could, but as soon as Sandy walked away he turned.

"Excuse me Jane?"

He pulled out another hundred dollar bill from his wallet and slipped it into her apron.

"Mr. C. He give you a first name when he called? I only ask you see because if he did, and it's the name I'm thinking of, I want to apolgize to him personally. I don't want to step on anyone's toes. We have a way we go about things in my business you see, and it's important to show respect."

He watched the waitress' eyes go wide at the money, and the implication of what Billy was saying. The wheels were turning in her head, but he wasn't entirely sure if she was going to give away the name or not, so he waited. Quietly, patiently, letting the noise of the room drown out everything but his eyes. Letting the waitress decide what a name was worth to her. A name she likely did not even know. And waht telling a stranger might lead to.

Jane had never made $200 in a day before, but this was the second time she'd cleared $150 twice in the same month. Jane really liked Miss Sandy, and certainly wouldn't intentionally do her any harm. What could possibly come of telling the man the very little she knew? What did it matter whether she was supposed to know it or not? Besides, maybe it wasn't that she shouldn't know, just that no one had gotten around to telling her yet.

"He didn't give me a first name on the phone, sir, but he calls a couple of times a week. Miss Sandy said he's her business partner; but I've never seen him come in. And at the end of last week, she was stepping out to pick up some things from the market and told me to leave the office door unlocked in case one of Mr. Car-rar-...Mr. C.'s employees came by to 'do the ledgers.' She keeps his business card taped to the bottom of her desk drawer, I guess so she doesn't lose it. I don't remember the name, too be very honest with you sir, but I remember it started with an "N," and it was a name I'd never seen before."

Having given him everything she knew, Jane gave a little shrug.

"Can I get you anything else? Anymore sandwiches or something?"

Billy listened with his ears perked as the young waitress spoke. Every detail, the business card, the location, the... The first letter of a man's name. Could it be that much of a coincidence? He didn't think so, not too many N. Carrara's hanging around the city of Detroit he would bet. When she asked if he could use anything else he nodded slowly.

"One last thing Jane. Have you ever heard the name Ligambi?"

He watched as she screwed up her brow clearly in thought. Before she even spoke, Billy knew she knew nothing. You didn't drop Ligambi's name and have someone take that long to think about it if they knew who he was. Which didn't confirm his suspicion about Nuccio, but it didn't rule it out either.

What it meant was, if Sandy was in league with the family, she was doing a good job of hiding it so far from her staff. And if she wasn't she was going to be very soon.

"I think I might have read it in the papers?" Jane spoke in a questioning sort of answer. As if Billy was quizzing her on something important. Her eyes quickly flashed to his wallet again. Billy thought to himself that she was hoping she might have given the right answer, but he watched that hope die when he made no movement.

"Yeah, it's a name that shows up there once in a while. Alright Jane, thank you." With that, Billy stood and started to gather his things. "Give Sandy my apologies, tell her that I suddenly remembered I needed to speak to a friend about a business matter. I'll be back again though kid, promise. These sweets are too good, and now I have to try some of that craklin she was talking about."

He gave a brief smile, and made his way out the door.

After a long day of collecting protection money from stubborn owners, Lucy couldn't help but stop for lunch. She comes across Mrs. Ruthie's Palmetto Tea Room. She parks her Triumph Speed Twin and comes through the door. She immediately feels a sense of hospitality as Jane. After taking a seat, Jane comes to take her order. It was 3:35, so it was afternoon tea time.

"Afternoon tea you say? Well in that case, I will have a sweetened ice tea, a cucumber and cream cheese sandwich along with coconut cake, pound cake and some cheese straws."

"Will that be all?" Jane asked.

"Yeah. Oh and uhh... is smoking allowed? Sorry it's been a very long day at work and a cigarette helps calm my nerves."

"Umm... I am not sure. I'll have to ask the owner. I'll get the order ready for you and be right back." Jane said, a little embarrassed.

"Sorry for the trouble." Lucy said.

She took a look around the place as she waited for her order to arrive. The decor was something else.

"Order in, Miss Sandy. Customers are allowed to smoke in here, right?"

"Of course. That's why we've got the ash trays over there."

Sandy nodded to a table near the kitchen door, on which sat a few stacks of cut glass ash trays. Checking the order ticket, Sandy went over and poured a tall glass of iced tea into a glass etched with a pineapple design, then grabbed one of the ash trays.

"I'll take this on out. Table four?"

Jane nodded as she gathered the food for the lady's order. Humming softly, Sandy made her way out to the dining area with the items on a tray and approached the table.

"Here we are, Miss. Your tea, and I brought you an ash tray, and I've got matches up front I can bring if you need them."

Once she'd placed everything on the table, Sandy looked up to the customer for the first time, and quickly realized she knew the face.

"Well now, hold on, you're-- Miss Lucy, right? You own a car repair place not too far from here, I believe."

"S-Sandy? You own this place?"

Lucy couldn't believe in her own eyes.

"You have done a hell of a job here darling! No need for matches though. I've got my own. And yes I do own a car repair shop. And since we are 'business associates', you are entitled to all the special services. But enough about that. I actually wanted to ask if you got the call from our 'mutual friend'." she said as she lit her cigarette and took a sip of her tea.

Sandy smiled, happy to have someone from her new...organization visiting the tea room.

"Well thank you, honey! And I appreciate you letting me know about the work available at your shop. If I ever manage to get a car, I'll be sure you're the first to know."

That thought almost made Sandy laugh. She'd been living on a meager teacher's salary all her life. The things Mr. Nuccio had said about the money she "could" make cleaning his money sounded nice and everything, but she had no idea how that worked, and she didn't really see how her little tea room would do anything like that. She was just happy to be running her little slice of home in the cold city of Detroit and managing to make ends meet for now.

At Lucy's other question, Sandy sat at the table and lowered her voice a bit. The only other patron was clear across the room and had her nose stuck in a book, but Sandy knew very well she could still be listening and wasn't going to take any chances.

"I got a call from him earlier this morning, yes."

She noticed Jane arriving with Lucy's order and quietly cleared her throat and sat up a bit, smiling.

Lucy glanced at Jane, who brought her order.

"Thank you darling. Could you give us some time here? I have something I want to talk about with Sandy here." Lucy said.

"Of course." Jane said as she walked away.

"Listen Sandy. I am the one that boss told you he'd sent. This is not the right place to talk about this. Would you mind if I came into your office after my lunch? I'll fill you in on everything you need to know and what to do."

Lucy looked around to check if anyone had heard her, then went back to sipping some of her tea and eating her sandwich.

Nodding, Sandy ignored the way her heart started smacking against her ribs. "What you need to know and what to do" sounded terribly more important than just serving tea and sandwiches and listening for any gossip that might sound important. But, she had promised Mr. Nuccio that she would do anything that was asked of her- leaving out that she didn't exactly have all the faith that she 'could' do what was asked. Then again, there was what Gio had told her; that there was very little chance anyone was going to ask her to do something she wasn't capable of. Of everyone she'd talked to up to this point, Sandy took the most...assurance, perhaps, in the things he'd told her.

"Sure, I can make sure we're not disturbed. You take your time with your lunch and I'll head upstairs."

With that, she got up and slipped back into the kitchen.

"Jane, I've got some work to do in the office. When Miss Helen gets here, would you let her know that I need to finish this up and would like to not be disturbed unless it's an absolute emergency?"

The young woman nodded as she carried a tray of unbaked tart shells to the freezer. Sandy thanked her and got herself a glass of tea, then carried it upstairs to her office. Before she sat down, she took a few moments to straighten it up- though it really wasn't untidy at all. It was more a matter of calming nerves than anything else. Would it always be this way, working for this kind of organization? Would she always feel like a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs? Plopping down into her chair, she sure hoped not.

Almost an hour passes and Lucy finishes having lunch. She signals Jane to come over.

"Was everything to your liking miss?" she asked.

"Everything was wonderful. This might be my favorite place in all of Detroit." Lucy said.

"Now... Could you please accompany me to the owner's office? I need to talk to her."

Jane guides Lucy to Sandy's office.

"Thank you." Lucy said as she shut the door.

Now with only Sandy and Lucy in the room, the atmosphere got heavy.

"Sandy. I'm sorry if I am getting in the way of your business but this is important." Lucy said as she took a seat, with a now more serious tone.

"I am guessing you wanna know why I'm here. Well. Let me explain. There is this fool from the Durden crew that has been dealing on the boss's territory without his permission. We kindly asked him to stop, but he gave us the bird."

Lucy takes a deep breath.

"The boss has placed a contract on him, and I'll be the one fulfilling it. I managed to arrange a little sit-down with him tonight at his apartment. I need you to do 2 things. First..."

Lucy draws a Luger pistol out of nowhere.

"I need you to hold on to this. I can't hide it in my house because I think the cops might have bugged it. This guy has a single bodyguard who is gonna frisk me before I can get in to see him. I don't have anywhere else to hide it. Be careful. It is loaded."

Lucy gets a piece of paper out of her pocket.

"And second. I need you to call this number at exactly 21:05 today. It is the number to his apartment. That is gonna distract him and give me a chance to do what I have to do. Don't worry. I'll make sure nobody knows about it."

Lucy gets up.

"That's all. I'll come back tomorrow to pick up the gun." she said.

She walks towards the door, but just as she's about to leave she pauses.

"And Sandy... That phone call you have to make is really important... My own life may very well depend on it. So please... Don't forget." She said, then walked out.

While Lucy spoke, Sandy listened very carefully and sat very still; not wanting to miss anything that was being relayed to her. There were so many words coming at her that she wished she could be sure she understood clearly- but she didn't want to appear unprepared for what she was being asked to do. It was simple, after all, right? Make a phone call and hold onto... a gun.

The pistol appeared on her desk, and Sandy's eyes moved toward it; slowly, the way someone might look when they know there is a spider on the corner of their desk but they're still hoping maybe they just imagined it. It wasn't as if Sandy had never seen a gun before, though. Her Daddy, Grandaddy, and just about every other man she grew up around hunted everything from duck buck.

Just...not people. 

"I can do it." Sandy looked up as Lucy was getting up to leave. 

"And Sandy... That phone call you have to make is really important... My own life may very well depend on it. So please... Don't forget."

Suddenly, with that simple request, Sandy's perspective changed. She wasn't being asked to participate in a murder. She was being asked to protect someone. What that someone was doing wasn't any of Sandy's business; but Sandy could certainly see that a business associate was safe. There was no harm in that. 

That lie was enough to fortify her. When Lucy closed the door to the office behind her, Sandy got up and went to the small closet of her office and dug around for a moment, then retrieved a shoe box with a pair of bright red shoes she'd purchased a few days ago. Removing the shoes, she carried the box to the desk. She took her gloves from her purse and slipped them on, then picked up the pistol as if it were made of glass. To her surprise, it was heavier than she imagined it would be. Placing it into the shoe box, Sandy put the top on and put her gloves away. Part of her wanted to go home right now; but she knew that would look strange with several hours left in the work day. So, she sat down behind the desk and put the phone number she was given into her wallet, then finished her iced tea while she fiddled with the hem of her dress.

When the time came, the phone rang.

"Hello?" a voice said.

Not long after, sounds of struggling could be heard from the other line.

"Fucking bitch let go of me!" the voice said.

Sounds of glass shattering could be heard. Soon after that, complete silence. Nobody could tell who had won, until a familiar voice picks up the phone.

"Thank you." she said.

"Hey what's going on in there?" the goon's bodyguard said from outside.

"Shit. Gotta go." she said.

The line goes cold. Weather Lucy survived or not was up for interpretation.

When the line disconnected, Sandy's heart went from pounding to a dead stop for a few moments. Her eyes darted around the room, as if looking for help, but no one was there. Placing the receiver back on its cradle, Sandy got up and started nervously pacing in front of her little desk. It was going on ten o'clock at night now. She was alone at the tea room, locked inside with the shades pulled down and the only light on being in this room. 

Forcing herself to calm down as much as possible, Sandy tried to think back to the conversation earlier and what Lucy had told her. This was something Lucy had been sent to do, so surely someone else in the crew had to know about it. Even if she went alone, someone would know where she would be and could go and see if she was alright. 

Scrambling back to the desk, Sandy got her purse and fished out another business card. Quickly, she picked up the phone and dialed the number on it. While she waited for the line to connect, she chewed nervously at her lower lip, hoping Gio Parisi was home.

Giacomo was indeed home. He had left Nuccio's estate after a business dinner there with strict orders to go home and wait for word from Lucy about the results of her mission. When the phone rang, he snatched the handset off the receiver and lifted it to his ear.

"Is it done?" he asked, a note of tension in his voice.

He was temporarily thrown when it was Sandy's voice on the other side of the call. She quickly recounted what she had heard on her call to the Durden henchman's apartment, and Gio reached for his hat and keys even before she'd finished.

"Don't worry, I've got it covered," he reassured her. "You did well calling me. I gotta go."

And with that, he hung up the phone and headed back out the door. Lucy was capable, so he wasn't overly concerned. It was probably the bodyguard who should be worried. But still, better safe than sorry.

"Motherfu-"

The bodyguard didn't get to finish his sentence before he was shot 3 times in the face with his own boss's gun.

"Ah fuck me." Lucy said to herself.

She walked towards the exit and encounters another man, who had probably just finished his night shift. He sees Lucy holding a gun and the body of the bodyguard behind her.

"Oh my god... Please don't shoot."

Lucy took a second to gather her thoughts, then she quickly raised the gun and shot the man in the face.

She stood there a moment, only then realizing that she just killed an innocent man who was there in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Only seconds after, Giacomo Parisi rolls up.

"Mr Parisi... I..."

She was at a loss for words. The guilt she felt after doing what she just did was overwhelming her. On top of that, she knew she fucked up because she wacked a civilian. The only way that this could have gone worse was if she was shot instead.

The next morning, Lucy pulls up at Mrs. Ruthie's Palmetto Tea Room. The venture had just opened up for the day, so no one was in but the staff. She hadn't slept all night. Right now what she wanted was some coffee, just to stand up straight. Jane spots her and rushes over.

"You don't look so good miss. Here have a seat." she said with a concerned tone.

"Thank you... Can I get... Can I get a coffee please." Lucy asked, ready to fall asleep.

"Sure I'll get that for you." Jane said as she left to get the order.

All of a sudden, the radio playing in the background got louder for Lucy.
 

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is Robert Sinclair, bringing you the latest developments in a chilling and baffling crime that unfolded late last night on the north side of our city. A violent confrontation in a modest apartment has left three men dead."

"According to police reports, a total of four shots were fired in what neighbors described as a chaotic and terrifying scene. The gunfire erupted in an apartment on Maplewood Avenue, just two blocks from Grover Park. When officers arrived, they found three men at the scene. Two of them have been identified as associates of the Durden Gang, a name that has become notorious over the past few years. The third man, Charles Whitmore, is a civilian with no known criminal ties, leaving investigators and the public alike wondering how he became entangled in this violent episode."

"The deceased has been identified as Ray ‘Trigger’ Madsen, a known enforcer for the Durden Gang. He was found with a broken neck and pronounced dead at the scene. Earl ‘Cat’ Corrigan, another gang associate, was discovered with three gunshot wounds to the head and chest, also pronounced dead. Meanwhile, Charles Whitmore, a local tailor with a reputation as a quiet, law-abiding man, was found with a single gunshot wound to the head."

"God..." Lucy sighed.

"Could you please turn that off?" Lucy said to miss Helen.

Helen turned off the radio, calming Lucy down a bit.

Jane arrived with Lucy's coffee.

"Thanks. Is Sandy in? I need to talk to her."

"I'll tell her." Jane said.

"And bring me 3 more cups of coffee please. 1 won't be nearly enough."

Lucy drank the coffee as if it was water and waited for Jane.

Jane had barely finished saying "Miss Lucy is downstairs and-" before Sandy was on her feet and heading for the stairs. The gun was still tucked away in the shoebox, which was now under her desk. As she came to the bottom of the stairs, Sandy could see Lucy sitting at a table near the door. Miss Helen was coming over with a pot of coffee and a trivet, which she placed on the table and left.

Sandy sat down in the chair across from Lucy and grabbed her hand.

"Good lord in heaven, am I glad to see you. I was plum terrified when I heard that phone go dead. I thought- well, I didn't know what to think. I'm so glad Gio found you."

Sandy could see that Lucy was a mess; exhausted being the least of it. Sandy's eyes softened and she slowed down. She'd heard the story from both Gio Parisi and the radio news several times; and while the idea of what some of her new colleagues did for a living was...troubling to her, she was still able put details aside when needed.

"Aw, honey, he told me what happened. Now you can't be too hard on yourself. Sometimes these things happen, and it's just a whole lot of bad timing. He didn't mean to be in the middle of that kind of thing, and you didn't mean to....well, you didn't mean for it to end that way."

Noticing Jane's cup nearly empty, Sandy picked up the pot and refilled it for her.