Shadow Keeper

by Feehan, Christine

  There was something about the formality of the way Giovanni worded it that had her gaze jumping to his face. He was looking at his brother. Something she missed passed between them, and Taviano nodded.

  Giovanni caught her chin in hard fingers. “This time, honey, you stay right here. I can’t be dividing my attention, looking out for you and sweeping your apartment.” There was steel in his voice. Sasha was independent, a woman who went her own way and made her own decisions, but she wasn’t about to defy that voice. More, she wasn’t going to put him in danger through her own recklessness.

  Giovanni took the lead going up the stairs. “Someone’s watching from the roof. Text Stefano and let him know. I caught the glint of binoculars. The idiot isn’t that good at hiding himself. He’s watching us. I’m betting it’s the same man who was in her apartment.” He kept moving up the stairs. His brother was fast on his phone, even faster than Giovanni, and he could text as he hurried up to the door.

  Giovanni bent to examine the lock without touching anything. “There are scratch marks here. He used a pick. I’m going to have to get her a better lock, Ricco, and dead bolts inside, if she’s going to stay here.”

  Pulling on gloves, he opened the door and stepped inside. Her apartment smelled like her—fresh cinnamon candy-covered apples. He loved the way she smelled, and entering her home, knowing it held that same scent he was beginning to be obsessed with, gave him a rush of pleasure in spite of the circumstances. He signaled to his brother to stand to one side of the closed door. He opened it carefully.

  Her bathroom was small and very neat. There was no way for anyone to hide in the open space. Her shower curtain was transparent, so even that wouldn’t have been a hiding place for an intruder. He looked around, taking in everything she had on the marble sink. Makeup, although she used it sparingly, he knew. A jar of colored bath salts. An electric toothbrush and water flosser. The woman took care of her teeth and it showed. They were straight and white. She had a dazzling smile.

  A lipstick lay next to a bottle of perfume. Strange, the perfume was in a beautiful bottle, but it wasn’t that cinnamon candy-covered apple he knew was her signature scent; it was a high-end brand he recognized, but the floral scent wouldn’t suit Sasha. He couldn’t imagine her wearing it.

  Her towels were jet-black, which surprised him. He expected her to have chosen more of a pastel color. The two towels were hung with obsessive neatness, which was too bad. He liked neat, but he wasn’t always careful about where he flung his clothes, so the fact that her towels were hung exactly symmetrically was probably a bad thing. Again, he was careful not to touch anything. He wanted Sasha to tell him if anything had been moved or taken.

  The bedroom was next and he opened that door cautiously, keeping out of the line of fire just in case the intruder was still inside and had a gun. The bed was in his line of sight, the comforter a pale mauve. There were girlie pillows on it, up near the head of the bed. In the exact center was a large heart made of roses, the same type of roses that were now on the ground outside in the alley. Inside the heart, laid out precisely in the center, were a sheer thong panty and bra. They were fire-engine red and nothing more than cord and lace, beautiful, sexy and perfect for his woman. He couldn’t imagine that she had placed them there, but he was certain the lingerie already belonged to her.

  He looked at his brother. “What the fuck is that?”

  One look around the small room told him an intruder wasn’t hiding there, not even in the closet. The double doors to the long walk-in were open, revealing a meager amount of clothing. Mostly jeans hung neatly alongside two dresses and several tops.

  “There’s a note.” Ricco removed it from where it lay between the lace bra and panties.

  Wear these for me tomorrow.

  The words were typed out on a single sheet of paper. Giovanni cursed under his breath. “This isn’t good. Someone’s fixated on her.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Ricco said. “She’s beautiful and … extraordinary. That smile of hers could stop a war. She has that face, Gee, the kind a man would spend a lifetime wanting to just stare at. I’m not even going to talk about her body because I’m not looking at her that way. I see her and know she belongs to you and the family. Someone to protect, but other men, they’re going to see her and want her. She’s got something intangible, a magic about her, and you’re going to have your hands full keeping the competition away. Think about that, because it’s going to be for the rest of your life.”

  Giovanni knew every word Ricco said about Sasha was the truth. He’d felt the pull of her magic, that mixture of innocence and temptress, her smile, the one that his brother had referred to. He also knew that the assessment coming from Ricco, who loved his wife above all else, was true and stated as a fact rather than interest. Maybe even a warning.

  “Let’s get her and find out if anything is missing,” Giovanni said. He didn’t like her out in the alley where she was exposed.

  He should have known his brother would take care of things. Taviano had Sasha inside the deli. They stood just inside the back door, Taviano’s body blocking the entrance. He glanced up at the roof. Stefano stood there, lifted a hand and shook his head to indicate there was no one there. Emme and Vittorio paced along the alley, one on the left side and one on the right. They moved slowly, looking for any evidence of a person setting up traps or cameras or just leaving evidence behind.

  Giovanni went straight to Sasha and wrapped an arm around her. “He’s gone, but he left you a note. I need you to go through the apartment and tell me if anything is missing, or if he’s disturbed anything. You’ll have to hurry, the police tend to show up fast if we’re involved.”

  “Why?” She looked up at him as they walked toward the stairway. Giovanni wanted to step on the roses and crush them as he passed, but he was careful to step over them just in case the police needed them for evidence.

  “They have the misguided belief that we’re criminals. Mafia. They’ve investigated us numerous times, but they always come up empty-handed.” He put his hand on her back as they went up the stairs.

  Ricco was waiting at the top, and he stepped aside to allow her entry into her apartment. She hesitated, just for a second, just long enough that Giovanni noticed, and then she stepped inside and went straight over to the little table that held the photographs of her family.

  “There’s something beyond terrifying to know someone’s invaded your personal, private space,” she said.

  Her voice was pitched low, but he caught the slight wobble and wanted to smash something—or someone. She was being brave, but she was shaken. He watched as she looked all around and under the table where the photographs were.

  “He took my brother’s key chain. He moved the photographs and the things I have here. Why would he take Sandlin’s key chain? It isn’t worth anything to him, or anyone but me.”

  “What did it look like?” Giovanni followed her as she circled around the living space and kitchen.

  “It was just a key chain with a picture of me in it. He took it when I was barrel racing and had won a championship.”

  She suddenly broke off and ran across the room to the armchair. A book lay upside down on the cushion. Next to the chair was a small round side table. Two wineglasses sat out with a bottle of red wine. There was wine residue in each glass. On the side of one of the glasses was a small smear of pink lipstick.

  “This isn’t mine. I mean, the glasses are, but not the wine and I didn’t drink anything with anyone. My book was sitting here on the table when I left. The book on the chair isn’t the one I was reading. I don’t know where mine is, but that’s not it. He staged this. He had to have, and I’m certain that’s my lipstick.”

  Giovanni picked up the book, turning it over to the open pages. Text was highlighted and he skimmed it, his stomach tying in knots as he did. “It’s an erotica book. This has a very graphic passage between two lovers highlighted.”

  Sasha pressed her fingers to her temple
s as if that might stop a headache. “What’s he trying to say?”

  “I think he’s fantasizing that you’re in a relationship with him,” Giovanni said.

  She turned her head to look at the bathroom door. “He was in there, too, wasn’t he?”

  “You tell me.” Giovanni was certain he had been.

  She took a deep breath and started to touch the door handle. He caught her shoulder to pull her back and opened the door with his gloved hand. “Just in case, honey. We don’t want to mess up any fingerprints.”

  She nodded, and stepped inside, her gaze instantly drawn to the towels and then the little cabinet where her things sat. “He was definitely in here. Those towels aren’t mine. And I’m not that neat. I couldn’t get them on the rack like that.” She pushed back the shower curtain, made a face and stumbled back. “He was in here, too. I think he took a shower.” There were a few drops on the shower curtain, but the floor of the stall was damp. “He used my soap and shampoo. I’m never touching those things again. What’s wrong with him?”

  Giovanni stepped up and caught her around the waist, pulling her back to him, wrapping his arms around her. “The cops will get him. What about anything else? Look carefully, Sasha.”

  She studied the cabinet and then indicated the lipstick. “He used that on the wineglass rim. I keep it in the drawer along with the other makeup. He put that there. The perfume bottle, I’ve never seen before, nor do I use that particular scent. He had to have brought it.” She pressed back into him and turned her head to look up at him. “You don’t think he used my toothbrush, do you?”

  Giovanni shrugged, trying for casual, but he was buying her a new toothbrush. The idea of her putting her mouth anywhere near where the intruder had put it sickened him.

  “Cops are here, Gee,” Stefano announced.

  Instead of two uniformed officers, two men in suits came through the door. Giovanni introduced Sasha to the two detectives, who he was very familiar with, and then indicated the scratch marks, pointed out the bouquet on the ground and where she’d found it. He circled Sasha’s shoulders with his arm and pulled her under his shoulder, keeping it there, letting the detectives know she was not only with him, but under his protection. His hovering family told them the rest.

  “Stupid mistake on his part, messing with your family,” the one who had been introduced as Detective Jason Bradshaw said. His tone held all kinds of innuendo.

  Giovanni didn’t rise to the bait. He let them question Sasha, realizing almost immediately they were falling under her spell. Even now, with everything going on, she managed a smile that made them look at her in a way that had him wanting to tear their heads off.

  The detectives were thorough, he had to hand them that. Stefano always said the department’s detectives weren’t always the politest, but they definitely knew their jobs and didn’t jump to conclusions; they worked their cases and had a high arrest rate. He respected them, and Giovanni could see why. The two men might not like the Ferraros, or at the very least, suspected them of being a crime family, but they put aside any prejudices and photographed and documented everything. Their questions were polite but probing, leading Sasha to find a few other items that had been touched, moved, or had disappeared.

  Her hairbrush was missing. Her mother’s silver hand mirror. The book she’d been reading was nowhere in the house. The other two wineglasses that made up her set were gone. She was trembling visibly by the time they entered the bedroom. It was the first time Sasha had been inside it, and she made a small sound that tore at his heart before turning her face against his ribs.

  “I take it you didn’t leave your bed that way,” Bradshaw stated.

  “No.” She cleared her throat and forced herself to look at them, but she gripped Giovanni’s suit vest so hard, her fingers curled into his skin. “But the clothes are mine.” She glanced at the dresser just under her window. “That drawer was closed when I left.”

  The other detective, Art Maverick, walked over and peered inside. He turned his head, his eyes meeting Giovanni’s and then his partner’s.

  “What is it?” Sasha asked.

  Giovanni was afraid he already knew. “Baby, go with Ricco. Wait for me outside. I’ll just be a few more minutes. You’re finished with her, right? She gave her statement.”

  Maverick nodded. “That’s right, ma’am, you can wait outside. I need to talk to Giovanni.”

  “I should stay,” Sasha protested, but they all heard the reluctance in her voice.

  Giovanni brushed a kiss on top of her head and gave her a little push toward Ricco. His brother reached out and gently took her by the shoulders. “Emme’s waiting to meet you. She didn’t want to come in and accidently touch evidence, so she’s been not so patiently waiting for the police to be finished with you.”

  “One more thing, Miss Provis?” Bradshaw said. “Have you ever had a stalker? Do you have any idea who could be doing this?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing like this has ever happened to me. Never.”

  Giovanni watched them go. Sasha looked back at him several times, clearly feeling guilty about leaving him to deal with the detectives on her behalf.

  “Has she talked to you about anyone she was concerned with?”

  “No. She’s relatively new to the city. Her brother suffered a traumatic brain injury, and she had him moved here from Wyoming. The Hendrick Center is one of the top in the world for rehabilitation and care of that magnitude.” Giovanni volunteered what he knew as he took the necessary steps to cross the room to peer into Sasha’s private underwear drawer.

  There was a stack of lacy stretch boy shorts as well as lace bras. The intruder had ejaculated all over her panties and bras. Giovanni was aware that he possessed a very volatile temper. It often boiled up out of nowhere, so he was used to the feeling erupting. This was different. This was a rage he wasn’t certain he could contain. He turned away from the two detectives, afraid the need to snap the neck of the perpetrator showed on his face.

  “He planted cameras,” Taviano stated, pulling all interest away from Giovanni. “In the bathroom, bedroom and living area. Stefano found several video cameras on the roof across the street.”

  “This is one sick bastard,” Maverick snapped. “Where do these guys come from?”

  “There were a few incidents at the club involving her a couple of nights ago,” Giovanni said, staring out the window. The entire apartment was suddenly too small. He could barely breathe with the need to exact justice for Sasha. “I think she would have admitted if she had a long-time stalker or if she thought she knew who it was. I can have West, our manager, give you the incident reports involving Sasha last night. He can provide the footage from our cameras as well. Darby was there and used her to try to create sensationalism for his show. We stopped him and took the film. Several cameramen weren’t happy when we took film from them, but they had signed an agreement with us before they were allowed in.”

  “Given all the cameras set up in her apartment and outside, I want the names of those photographers,” Bradshaw said. “The setup looks professional.”

  Giovanni nodded. “We’ll get you whatever you need.”

  “She’s the kind of a girl who’s going to attract attention,” Maverick stated. “It could be some asshole she passed on her way to work and she smiled at him. Someone in the deli or club, since she works both places and has to smile to be polite. Now he thinks they’re in some kind of sick relationship.” He looked around the apartment. “She’s in real danger, Ferraro. You don’t go to all this trouble without being truly fixated.”

  Giovanni nodded. “We’ll watch out for her,” he assured. “You find this bastard.”

  “You know as well as I do, these creeps are difficult to find. He left DNA, so if he’s somewhere in the system, we can get him for breaking and entering, and stalking.”

  “Why would he exchange towels and get out her wineglasses? Have you seen that before?” Giovanni asked.

  Maverick sho
ok his head. “It’s all part of his fantasy relationship with her. Having a sexual encounter, sharing wine, showering. The roses he left for her. His towels hung in her bathroom. Some of her things brought back to his place.”

  Giovanni swore under his breath in Italian as he lifted his gaze to Taviano’s. They had to find this man and eliminate him. If Maverick and Bradshaw were concerned, then Sasha was in even more danger than she knew.

  “If you’re finished with her, I’m going to take her out, get her a few things to wear and a new toothbrush before we go to see her brother.”

  “Just to warn you, Ferraro, if he’s as dangerous as I think he is, he’ll be angry with her for having anything to do with you and he’ll perceive you as a threat to his relationship. He’ll definitely go after you.”

  Giovanni gave the detective his shark’s smile. “I want him to come after me. If he fixates on me as his enemy, he won’t have time to harass her. I can take care of myself,” he assured. “Just find him.”

  Maverick nodded. “Then we’re finished with her. We’ll need to be here a little longer. I want to take these cameras for evidence as well as sweep for more.”

  Giovanni started out the door.

  “Ferraro?”

  He turned back.

  “Is it possible someone is striking at you through her?”

  “She isn’t a part of our world.” He wanted her to be. He intended to make her a part of it, but she wasn’t yet. “She works for us at the club, but no member of my family hired her. We don’t do that. She was in trouble the other night because a few customers got out of hand, so I stepped in, but that’s something all of us do when there’s trouble. My table just happened to be closer than security. I did take her to dinner after and my brothers and cousins joined us.”

  In his gut, he was certain whoever had fixated on Sasha had done so without counting him in the equation. Maverick nodded as if he had been just as certain but had to ask.