"You never said anything about being in witness protection," Julia said.
"I couldn't talk about it at the time of the bombing because Roberta was still in the program, even though I opted out," Mario replied.
"So your real name isn't Mario Moretti."
Mario shook his head. "I left that punk tough guy behind when I was given a new identity and background and decided I liked the new guy better. Before then, I was bouncing around pool halls, listening to bookies discussing races they planned to fix, and being a general flake up, while setting my sights on becoming a made man. But when Roberta witnessed a mafia execution by three wiseguys who turned out to be men I'd looked up to because they could say and do anything, and no one ever challenged them, I had to face some serious realities."
"Executed in what way?" Julia asked, aware that it wasn't exactly the dinner conversation she'd envisioned, but it was a part of Mario's life, and she wanted to know everything about him.
"An icepick-kill," Mario replied. "That's when a couple of wiseguys hold the victim while another jams an ice pick through the victim's eardrum and into his brain, resulting in death by cerebral hemorrhage. That's also when I decided I'd rather be on the other side of things, and once I left witness protection, I never went back to the old neighborhood."
"What about your parents? Where were they?" Julia asked.
"My mother died when I was two, and my father worked long hours in his own Italian deli until he died of a heart attack when I was twelve. But the one thing I remember about the old neighborhood was that kids and old people could walk around safely because the mob made sure no one harmed them or anyone else in the neighborhood. The mob boss and his soldiers looked after everyone like we mattered. My father's deli was off-limits because he made the best Italian sausage in Chicago, but most in the neighborhood never saw into the black souls of these men, so they were admired and respected, because they did look after us."
"Did the killers see your sister?" Julia asked.
"No, but she saw them clearly, and knew exactly who they were."
"Then why did you have to go into witness protection?" Julia asked. "Couldn't your sister just tell the authorities what she saw, and let them take it from there?"
"It doesn't work that way," Mario replied. "Her testimony was needed to convince a jury. The Feds can have fingerprints, forensic evidence, and murder weapons, but there's nothing as convincing as a credible eyewitness who takes the stand, and swears under oath, that they were there and saw it."
Julia said nothing, but she was beginning to get a better picture of the man sitting opposite her, and she admired him even more for the path he took, to dedicate his life to stopping the kind of people he once looked up to.
After they'd finished eating, which didn't take long, Mario shoved his chair back and stood. Taking his plate to the kitchen, he said to Julia, "I don't cook much, but I can wash dishes."
Julia took her own plate and set it by the sink. "Leave the rest. I'll do dishes later. I want to hear the rest of the story."
"What? About mafia executions?" Mario asked.
"No, about what happened after you left the old neighborhood," Julia replied. "You became another person. That doesn't happen every day." She sat on the two-person couch positioned a short distance from the wood stove and motioned for him to sit next to her.
Mario lowered himself beside her, sitting with his arm stretched along the back of the couch, and his hand resting behind Julia's head. Being so close to Mario triggered memories of being pressed against him in the curve of his arm during a time when she'd thought of nothing but the fact that there was a human being with her, her guardian angel, whose arm was around her for protection and assurance, but now, if Mario were to put his arm around her, it would be for a very different reason. The thought both excited and frightened her…
"Okay, to give you a rundown of my life," Mario said, "after leaving the old neighborhood, I was a cowboy all my teenage years, helping Otto run several hundred head of cattle on his ranch in Wyoming, which meant summers were spent getting up at daybreak and working my ass off until sundown, and during bitter winters making sure the stock were tended, even pulling me out of school some days when he needed me, but he never had me do anything he wouldn't do himself, even though he was in his sixties. He knew where I was headed before we were placed on the ranch, and he had big hopes for me, so I decided I wanted to be the man he expected me to be. But the U.S. Deputy Marshal overseeing Roberta and me was the one who had me thinking I could do what he did, and be instrumental in getting a whole lot of wiseguys off the streets and behind bars, and that's what I set my sights on."
"But going into law enforcement meant leaving the ranch," Julia said. "Didn't that bother Otto, since he needed you to help with the stock?"
"No, Otto was a philosophical man. He figured my growing up in a neighborhood run by the mob happened for a reason, and I needed to use what I'd learned and turn it against the wiseguys. It worked for me too. Roberta's the one who took to ranching. She could round up cattle with the best of them, and before Otto died, she was managing the ranch and hiring the wranglers. All I did over the years was spend my vacations making repairs and stretching fences. So that about sums it up. The rest of the time I've spent babysitting stoolies."
Julia was about to question him further when she felt the tingle of Mario's fingers toying with her hair, accompanied by his words, "You have nice hair. Are you a natural blonde?"
Surprised, but amused by his question because she knew he didn't mean it in an offensive way, Julia looked at him and said, with wryness, "Do you realize the jeopardy you put yourself in by asking a woman that question?"
Mario sobered at once. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business," he said. "Social graces aren't one of my strong suits."
"I've suspected that from the start," Julia replied, "but to answer your question, yes, I'm a natural blond. If I wasn't, there wouldn't be so many silver threads among the gold."
Mario gave her a half-smile then moved toward her, and studying her hair more closely, said while toying with a lock, "In a few years you'll be a platinum blond."
"Don't remind me," Julia said, while feeling Mario's breath against her temple, making her heart quicken while sending flurries to her tummy and a flush of warmth creeping up her face.
"That was a compliment," Mario said.
Their cozy moment was broken by a knock on the door. Julia moved away quickly and stood, hoping whoever it was wouldn't stay. She wanted this time with Mario. It was like she'd waited twenty years to be with him again. And she'd never had such a curiosity about anyone before. She sensed intuitively that he was a man with many layers, but the world around him knew only one layer—the gruff, take-control, U.S. Marshal layer ready to put his life on the line and kill if necessary. Yet, she knew him as a man with softness and goodness, a man she very much wanted in her life, implausible as it was.
On opening the door, she was surprised to see Maddy, accompanied by two fair-skinned, blue-eyed kids with blond hair, a boy about ten, and a girl who looked to be around five.
"This is Sergei and Irina," Maddy said. "They're staying with Mom and Dad over Christmas. When I saw that Sergei had several of your video games, I told him the person who wrote the games was here, and he asked if he could meet you."
"I'm flattered," Julia said. She knew Maddy hadn't noticed Mario yet, and wondered what her reaction would be on seeing him. It was awkward at best, knowing what Maddy's opinion of Mario was. "Come on in," she said, then stepped back for them to enter.
When Maddy caught sight of Mario, her face showed surprise, and bafflement. Mario, who'd been sitting casually on the couch, one arm across the back, a leg stretched out, sat up, and on seeing Maddy, dipped his head in acknowledgement and said nothing.
Julia saw Maddy's gaze flit over the table with its setting for two and candles still flickering, sending light dancing off the wine glasses, a cozy setting that was clearly confusing to Maddy, and
with good reason. The day before, Julia assured her she didn't know Mario.
"I can see you're busy," Maddy said, "so maybe you could show Sergei what you're working on at the moment, and he can come back later."
Julia smiled at the boy. "I'm glad you like my games," she said. Then she looked at Irina, who was holding her brother's hand, which Julia found sweet, and said, "Irina, that's a pretty name. Do you have a middle name?"
The little girl looked up at Julia and said nothing.
"She doesn't talk," Sergei said. "Her middle name's Kristina."
Julia had a dozen questions to ask about why this little girl, whose eyes were bright with intelligence, didn't talk. She also felt an odd bond that maybe she could understand something about this silent child others missed, which didn't make sense, having not overcome her own problems. Still, she smiled and offered her hand to Irina, who looked at it thoughtfully. Then to Julia's surprise, the child dropped her brother's hand and took Julia's, which brought the slight sting of tears to Julia's eyes that they had connected.
For the next half hour, Sergei was so filled with eager questions about what it took to create a video game, and Irina didn't fuss when Julia invited her to sit on her lap while she explained things to Sergei, that Julia didn't want to send the kids off, so she answered Sergei's questions as they came, and talked to Irina as if she understood, but after a while, Maddy, who'd been standing behind Julia while looking on, said to Sergei, "We need to go, but you and Irina can come back another day."
After they'd left, Julia looked to where Mario was placing a couple of small logs in the wood stove, and said, "I'm sorry I took so long, but Sergei was so enthusiastic that I didn't want to brush him off, and Irina took to me, like she needed someone to love her."
"She probably does," Mario said. "They're Russian orphans in state custody."
"What happened to their parents?" Julia asked.
"They were killed in a car accident a few months ago, which was shortly after they became naturalized citizens, so the kids have no family here. Grace Hansen heard about them on a local TV show featuring hard-to-adopt children needing families to take them in for Christmas."
"What's the story with the little girl?" Julia asked.
"Presumably she's deaf or hard of hearing," Mario replied.
"That's sad," Julia said. "I've never done a video game that included a deaf child. If nothing else, kids would have an awareness of what it's like to live in a silent world. I could even call it "Irina's Silent World.'" She visualized the Children's Club kids meeting a silent child, and the game would take them through the challenges of not hearing a horn honk to warn her to stay back, and never hearing birds, or music, or the sound of voices. Kids playing the game could also learn some basic sign language…
"Speaking of video games," Mario said, "I'm curious why you ended up doing that, when before, you told me you never wanted an inside job, that you had your sights on getting your whitewater certification so you could lead raft trips? What changed?"
In an instant, Julia was back in time, envisioning the disbelief on Cole's face when she tried to explain why she couldn't go rafting, not even on calm water. He'd been rafting for years and held certifications that cleared him for taking rafters over the most dangerous rapids. She hadn't been a water person before meeting him, but she was determined to make her way up the certification levels. But after the bombing, she couldn't get past the image of being swallowed up and trapped by churning water...
"Are you with me?" Mario asked, when Julia became so preoccupied she didn't reply.
Snapping out of it, she gave a little shrug and said, "Sorry, I was distracted. You asked why I'm doing videos. My father's a computer programmer who branched into writing video games, and he convinced me do it too because I always loved writing. As it turned out, it's far more practical than rafting because I can do it at home."
Mario looked at her like he didn't quite believe her, which was understandable given that she'd assured him, years before, that she'd never want a job that kept her inside, but he didn't press her. Instead, he said, "I hate to cut the evening short but I have paperwork to complete before heading to the Federal Building in the morning, but why don't you come with me? We could visit in the car, and at the grocery I'll split the list down the middle and we'll both shop."
Again, Julia struggled for an excuse. What he suggested was more than disconcerting. It was simply not possible. "I… really have to… well, finish the video game I'm writing."
"The job is that demanding?" Mario asked.
"Well, yes, sometimes," Julia replied, and realized her response didn't indicate work so urgent she couldn't ride to Portland with him.
Mario looked at her long and hard, and Julia had the gut feeling he was beginning to put things together. He might be more understanding than Cole had been, but no man wanted to be strapped with a woman who was afraid to leave home, and it was impossible to explain.
"Okay then," Mario said, "give me your car keys and I'll spend half the day tomorrow grocery shopping."
"You really don't have to do it," Julia replied.
"I know, but I've had worst assignments," Mario said, with a twinkle of humor in his eyes that told her he really didn't mind. "I doubt if I'll be able to find good bratwurst where I'll be shopping though," he added.
"True, but you can find it at a German deli in McMinnville," Julia replied. "It's on the main street in town, two blocks off the highway. You can't miss it. Be sure to pick up enough sausages to fill a big man."
"You're going to have me spoiled by the time I leave here," Mario said.
"That would be a good thing," Julia replied, which brought another smile from Mario.
She fished the keys out of her handbag and offered them to him, along with a bank envelope containing several one-hundred dollar bills. When Mario looked inside the envelope, he said, "You always carry this much money around?"
Julia realized she was batting her eyes quickly again, while searching for a reason to have four-hundred dollars in her handbag, which was something she'd been doing for years, having cash on hand so whenever someone went to town, she could have them pick up whatever she needed. "I went to the bank when I first arrived, just in case I couldn't get into town because of the snow." She realized that made no sense because the snow had only just started falling the day before, and if she couldn't get to town, she wouldn't need the money.
Again, Mario looked at her like he didn't quite believe her. Then he pulled his billfold from his back pocket and slipped the bills into it, and said, "A woman walking around with that much cash can be a target. If I were around here much I'd start worrying about you. Have you ever thought about getting a concealed carry permit?"
"You mean carry a gun?" Julia asked.
"A small one in your handbag," Mario replied. "It's not a bad thing for a woman to have. If you were my wife, I'd probably insist. While I'm here, I could even take you to a shooting range nearby and give you some instruction."
Julia's mind was all over the place while trying to process Mario's reference to having a wife, in the same context with giving her instruction on how to shoot, which made her wonder if he could possibly have feelings for her anywhere close to what she felt for him. But going to a shooting range was out. The shots, the noise, the concrete walls of a range… just the thought of it had her chest feeling tight and her heart beating heavily.
Quickly dismissing that image, she said, "I never go anywhere with that much money, but thank you for caring." Before he turned to leave, she kissed him on the side of the jaw, and added, "And thank you for doing my grocery shopping."
Mario laughed. "If grocery shopping's all it takes to make you happy, you're a woman in a million. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon. And before I leave here, I'm going to teach you some self-defense. Even if you don't go out carrying a wad of money, every woman needs to know it."
Julia had enough knowledge about learning self-defense to know it entailed a lot of body contac
t, which had her heartbeat quickening. But there was also a lot of grabbing, and seizing, and restraining involved, which made her chest feel tight again, and her palms damp, and she had no idea how she'd react when the time came, knowing it was Mario who'd be restraining her. Yet, it made no sense to be apprehensive about being held by the man whose arms had given her comfort during the most life-changing six hours of her life.
For the moment though, she was determined to set that troubling thought aside and concentrate on having Mario all to herself for the duration of another evening. But the thought of his arms around her could not be set aside, so she concentrated instead on programming herself for what was to come.
CHAPTER 4
Julia spent the better part of the following day working on the game manual for her latest Children's Club video game. Knowing Mario was at the ranch changed things. If she could have his evenings, she wanted them, which meant working hard during the day.
To get around going places with him though, she'd simply claim she had a deadline to meet, and leave it at that. But she also took time to make a decoration for his door by tying several fir limbs together with a wide ribbon covered in Santa's elves wearing red and green hats and turned-up-toe boots, which she found amusing because Mario was not a turned-up-toe-elf kind of guy, and it would give the Hansens, especially Maddy, pause for thought.
Once satisfied that the decoration looked festive, she walked through snow that was slowly accumulating, and on arriving at Mario's cabin, which was on the other side of his sister's cabin, she hung the fir spray on a small nail on his door, and left.
Late that afternoon, she had just finished setting the table for another cozy dinner, when she was interrupted by a knock on the door. On opening it, she was surprised to see Maddy again, but without the kids.
"I hope I'm not interrupting something," Maddy said.
Finding Justice (Dancing Moon Ranch Book 12) Page 4
