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</div>NAME: Terry Morgan<br/>Alias: Cabal Black<br/>Age: 40<br/>Location:  Kitchen<br/>Wearing: See Picture<br/>Mood Music:<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutu.be%2F4VR-6AS0-l4&amp;hash=a0ae5525b3170f94d5d4e096b01954be" href="https://youtu.be/4VR-6AS0-l4" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">Ludovico Einaudi - Nuvole Bianche</a><br/>Tagging:<br/>Mentioning: Iris<br/><br/>Terry was just finishing texting the shopping list to Iris when she spotted the pizza delivery car approaching the front entrance on the kitchen monitor.  She ran down to the gate, recognizing as she got closer it was Sammy, who delivered to her often.  And who's life she'd saved.  Sammy's eyes were shifting back and forth between her and the sprawling manor behind her.<br/><br/>"Did you win the lottery and fail to tell your favorite delivery guy, Lieutenant?  I'm crushed!"<br/><br/>She laughed.  "Don't be.  It's not my place.  It belongs to a friend."<br/><br/>"A Gia Penelope Sergia?  Sounds like a good Italian name to me.  So this is where you're spending your vacation?"<br/><br/>"Sammy, how'd you already know I was on vacation?"<br/><br/>"Everyone in the neighborhood knows when Lieutenant Terry Morgan takes a vacation.  There's been a wager about when you'd finally take one that's been going on for years.  By the way, I lost the bet.  I said you wouldn't take your vacation time until it was time to retire."<br/><br/>As Terry opened the gate to take and pay for the pizza, Sammy leaned in close, furtively looking around to make sure no one else was about.  "Word has it that Carmine Scarlatti is gunning for you again.  Is that why you're here?"<br/><br/>"No, I'm just visiting friends.  Why?"<br/><br/>"Well, if Scarlatti's after you, this is a better place to hide out than in your apartment."<br/><br/>"How reliable is your information on Scarlatti?  I haven't heard anything at the police station about it."<br/><br/>"Everyone who works at Gino's is either Italian or one generation removed from Italy.  We don't do business with the Mafia, but we hear things that the cops might not.  Too many people in the neighborhood owe you too much to keep quiet about this.  We have your back, Lieutenant."<br/><br/>Fighting back tears, Terry laid the pizza on the hood of Sammy's car long enough to give him a grateful hug.<br/><br/>"Don't worry, lieutenant.  I won't tell anyone you're here."<br/><br/>After Sammy drove away, Terry glanced up and down the street, looking for anyone suspicious.  Then she closed and locked the gate. Rather than heading directly back to the kitchen, she detoured to her car, unlocked the glove box, and retrieved her Glock, sliding in the magazine she'd been carrying in her pocket.  Then she clipped the holster and gun to her belt.  Yes, the Manor was safer than her apartment.  But someone had still managed to kill Mother here.  And though there were guns in the house, she preferred her own.<br/><br/>When she got back to the kitchen, Terry started to stir up the roux for the gumbo.  Sammy was a reliable source of information, but she doubted Carmine would go against the wishes of the other four bosses.  They'd made it clear to Carmine in the past that Terry was too high profile of target and would bring too much heat down upon them.  She hated the media, but sometimes they had their uses.