The week had been going amazingly well until that night, when a pair of mob gorillas had entered the carnival grounds, looking for someone. After they'd shoved their way into restricted areas and harassed several of his employees, Tom had finally stepped in and chased them off, though he wasn't at all pleased that it had come to that in the first place.
He'd went to look for the man in the photograph immediately thereafter, but he was long gone. Tom had thought he'd be gone for good (and had taken a pretty good truck with him, too) and was prepared to send people of his own to look for Frankie tomorrow morning, though on a whim, he'd decided to check back at his tent in case he'd returned, and lo and behold, there he was.
Speak of the devil.
"Care to tell me why a couple of hired goons were here, showing this around?" Tom asked him, with a quiet intensity that contained none of his usual gregarious charm. He took the photo the mobsters had left behind out of his pocket and tossed it at Frank's feet.