GUNNER (ALTON RHODE MYSTERIES Book 5) Read Online Free Page B

mayor of New York than Governor or U.S. Senator. There’s half a million people living in our quiet little burg. We’re bigger than Cincinnati. Why do you think Blovardi and his boys were pushed aside? Staten Island is changing. Too much money at stake to leave things to the local yokels. We’re no longer the undiscovered county.”
    “A Star Trek pun, Mike. I’m impressed.”
    “I stole it from your pal, Levine.”
    “I would have thought the Blovardi crowd had a lock on development here. They have as long as I can remember.”
    I knew it was a touchy subject for Sullivan. He came from the same side of the political divide as Blovardi, although I knew he despised the man and his minions. For years there had been rumors of political payoffs and shady real estate deals, and questions about why so many members of the current administration had Florida and Caribbean condos in resort areas that also housed many developers. But Mike Sullivan had not looked too closely at the shenanigans of the Borough hall crowd. He was a good, decent District Attorney, as were most of his predecessors, but the “old boy” network is very strong on Staten Island. It didn’t matter what party was in power, the D.A.’s office concentrated on street and quality-of-life crime and steered away from the political shoals. It would be interesting to see how Mike treated outsiders like Yorke and his backers. I was about to ask him about that when Alice slipped her arm through mine.
    “If you two are through talking politics, Linda and I are starving.”
    “We’re meeting a politician for dinner,” I reminded her. “It’s a safe bet we’ll talk politics.”
    “But at least we won’t be starving.”
     

CHAPTER 3 - SNAPPER
     
    Alice and I were the first to arrive at La Strada. We sat at the small intimate bar at the front of the restaurant and I ordered a bottle of Sorelle Bronca Prosecco. Alice likes the Italian sparkling wine and I can live with it, especially the Sorelle, which has a nice bite. Some Prosecco’s are too sweet for me.
    “I’m sorry you got roped into dinner with Yorke,” I said. “But you are on his bandwagon.”
    “No, it’s fine,” she said, as we clinked our flute glasses. “And I’m not on anyone’s bandwagon, present company excepted, sweetie pie. Bradley got an invite to the stadium thing but had something else going on tonight so he asked me if I’d be interested in coming.”
    Spencer Bradley was the President of Wagner College. 
    “Why you? Why not someone in the Political Science Department or Community Relations?”
    “He said he was intrigued by Yorke and wanted input from someone he trusted.”
    “He trusts a philosophy professor? You only make sense to each other.”
    Alice kicked me in the shin. Alice’s kicks, either to shin or ankle, range from “you’re an idiot but I love you” kicks to “shut up, you’re making an ass out of yourself in front of everyone” kicks. This one was an idiot/love tap. We both liked Bradley, the college’s first black president and a man who was known to be unhappy at the way the previous Borough Hall administration had catered to some of the borough’s racist constituencies. Bradley thought highly of Alice, and I knew he was worried about losing her.
    “At least Bradley knows I don’t have a vested interest,” she said. “I can’t even vote for Yorke. I’m registered in the Village. But truth be told, I am intrigued by him. He seems such a change from the current mob running things out here.”
    A waiter came to the bar and put a small plate of hot Italian delicacies in front of us.
    “The owner says he hopes you enjoy these,” he said. “On the house.”
    “Quick,” I said, “lock the door and let’s eat these before the others show up.”
    Just then, the door opened and Mike Sullivan and Linda walked in, ruining my perfectly good plan. Both were fine with Prosecco, so I had the bartender provide two more flute glasses. It turned out