Trent laid his doughnut down and leaned closer. “You haven’t been on the net today? He’s in Florence.”
“No. That can’t be true.” She grabbed her phone and opened her browser. She quickly found the pictures of Marcello and the same woman rushing through the Florence airport. He looked like death warmed over. “This makes even less sense. I saw the fear in his eyes when he talked about getting caught.”
Ally poked her head inside the kitchen. “Hey, Rachel? Sorry to interrupt. You just got an email in your business account I think you should see. It’s from Wilma Drake.”
“The Wilma Drake? The Broadway actress with, like, fifteen Emmys, Wilma Drake?”
Ally nodded. “The subject line just said Marcello. He’s been friends with her since I’ve known him. I didn’t open it this time.”
“Thank you.” Rachel quickly switched email accounts and scanned the list until she found it.
Dear Rachel,
I apologize for using your business email, but I didn’t have any other way to contact you. You don’t know me, but I helped Marcello when he first came to this country. You’re probably very angry with him, but I think all isn’t as it appears to be. He loves you and his children more than anything else.
I don’t use my computer often anymore, but I did today, and when I saw the headlines, I knew something was very wrong. He’d never go to Italy unless he was forced to. Can we please talk at your earliest convenience? I think Marcello desperately needs our help.
Warmest Regards,
Wilma Drake
All isn’t as it appears to be? He’d never go to Italy unless he was forced? Could there be a reasonable explanation for why Marcello had crushed her soul?
She replied to the email with her cell number and then laid the phone down. Hopefully, Marcello hadn’t broken Wilma’s heart too. It’d take something awfully big for Rachel to want to help Marcello after what he’d done to her and the kids.
Trent said, “So? What’s up?”
“Wilma is the actor who helped Marcello when he first came here. She thinks something is wrong that he’d be in Italy too.”
“So maybe before we hate on Marcello, we should see what she has to say?” Trent sat back and took a long drink from his mug.
“Maybe. But now my curiosity has kicked in. I’m thinking a little electronic snooping might be in order. Let’s go to the den. Ally doesn’t know about Marcello’s crime and Italy, so let’s be careful what we say about that.”
“Intrigue. I’m all for that on a Monday morning.” Trent grabbed another doughnut and followed behind.
After they walked into the den, Rachel sat on the blanket with the kids. Trent sat cross legged on the floor and played with the puppies again.
Ally asked, “What did Wilma want?”
Rachel scooped up both kids and placed them in her lap. “She’s concerned about Marcello’s behavior too. Remember that post you were worried about in my business email the other day?”
“Yeah. It was more creepy than threatening, but Marcello said to get rid of it when I called him Saturday morning. I forwarded it to a file where I keep suspicious emails.” Ally pulled out her cell and tapped a few buttons. “It’s from Lorenzo Bianchi. He just says he looked forward to meeting you and giving the twins a hug very soon.”
Rachel’s stomach dropped. That was Marcello’s father. She’d never forget that name because Marcello said it was his given name too. That must mean his father had figured out who Marcello is now. “Can you trace where that email came from, Ally?”
“Not without better equipment. But I bet Deek could. I’ll forward it to him and ask.” Ally’s fingers flew across the screen at lightning speed.
“Thanks. And can you look at all of Marcello’s banking records?” Was his father that last mysterious person Marcello sent money to each month?
Ally’s head whipped up. “Yes, but . . . I don’t know if I should.”
Rachel’s cell rang. “Hang on. This might be Wilma. Maybe she can tell us what the heck is going on.”
Chapter Sixteen
Men. You can’t live without them, but sometimes it’s tempting to try.
Ten million dollars? Marcello stared into the judge’s eyes as his mind raced for a way out. “That’s more money than I have sitting in bank accounts.”
He could sell stock and have the money in a matter of a few days, but that wasn’t the point. He had to stop the blackmailing.
The judge lifted his hands. “You’ll be sitting in jail until you come up with the funds. It’ll be up to you how long you’ll be our guest.”
He needed to talk to Gina. If she’d seen the bruises when they’d been kids, maybe others would testify for him too. But the judge and his father had a lot of power over the villagers. Gina would have to work quietly. He’d have never thought he’d have help from someone like Gina after all these years. She was still his way out.
“I’d need access to a phone to organize the money transfer with my financial person to send to my father’s account.”
His father finally spoke. “One call. And we’re going to be right here listening. Have the money sent to the factory account, so it looks like a business transaction. And sign this.” His father slipped a contract in front of him. “It states that you’re buying a portion of the business with your money.”
Marcello quickly scanned the document. It also said he’d be responsible for his portion of the debt among other legal terms he didn’t understand. “I’d need my lawyer to look this over. Would a smaller amount of money with a larger payment in a few months work while she looks at this?”
The judge laughed. “Do we look like fools? You’ll sign the paper and send the full amount. And then the charges will be dropped. No negotiation.”
“How can I be sure the charges will really be dropped?”
His father laid a pen on top of the paperwork. “You’ll just have to trust us. Now sign so I can get back to work.”
He regretted not telling Rachel the truth more now than ever. She’d know how to help Gina line up witnesses and help him know how to placate his father until she could expose him. Rachel’s clients hired her to protect them against unfamiliar and unfair foreign trade laws. She’d be able to understand and at least pretend to negotiate with his father to buy them some time. He’d been an idiot not to accept her help.
But would Rachel help him now after what he’d done to her? And would Gina be able to help, or would she risk too much of her own well-being because she had to still live in the corrupt town? If he only had one call, who should it be to? He refused to pay his father another dime.
What if Rachel told him to go straight to hell? He couldn’t blame her for it. But then would he go straight to jail?
Rachel hung up the phone after speaking to Wilma and let out a blue stream of curses. She was glad her kids weren’t old enough to understand. “I’m going to kill Marcello. That is if we can find him before he does something stupid.”
Trent and Ally exchanged wide-eyed glances. Trent was the braver of the two and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Wilma told me that Marcello’s father has been blackmailing him for the past year. Marcello worried about exposing me and the kids to such an abusive man, so he’s been fighting this on his own. Ally, have you heard back from Deek? Better yet, we need to go to his house. We need to see if we can figure out who that woman was with Marcello.”
Ally asked. “What would Marcello be blackmailed for?”
Rachel shook her head. “I can’t tell you that part yet. But trust me, Marcello is innocent. And we need to help him prove it. Wilma thinks Marcello’s father has had him arrested. Where was Marcello that Saturday you picked him up? After the press conference, he said he had a meeting with someone.”
“The Beverly Hills Hotel. Dave took whoever he met with to the airport.”
“Perfect. That means the blackmailing might have happened on American soil. You call Dave and get a description of his passenger
. Then I’ll call the LA police. They might be able to help us verify that Lorenzo Bianchi was in the country, staying at that hotel, and on that plane heading for home.”
Trent smiled. “I think you ladies have this under control, so I’m going to go to work.” He gave Rachel a kiss on the cheek. “Love is worth fighting for. And forgiveness for male pride and stupidity is a virtue.”
Rachel grunted. “I’m going to be his lawyer for now. The forgiving part is still up in the air.”
“Maybe keep in mind that abused children have intense fears that those fortunate enough to grow up safe and loved don’t understand. Call me later and let me know how this all turns out.”
Trent had a point. Right or wrong, Marcello probably believed he was doing the right thing. But his methods sucked. “Thanks, Trent.”
She saw him out and then thought of another ten things she had to do, but first she needed to ask her mom to babysit, and then she and Ally would go to Deek’s house and start digging for answers. She’d call the cops in LA, and hopefully, between the police and Deek, they’d figure out where Marcello was.
Two hours later, at Deek and Lori’s house, Rachel disconnected her call and closed her eyes. Things were falling into place. But they weren’t moving nearly fast enough for her.
She walked into Deek’s study, where he and Ally were busy doing their magic on his computers. She’d been so upset when they’d arrived earlier that she hadn’t noticed his T-shirt. This one read: Irony—the opposite of Wrinkly. It made her smile.
“How’s it going, guys?”
Deek looked up and grinned. “Ally has some skills. I’m going to steal her away from you and put her to work for me.”
“Not happening. At least not until she finishes college. We called first dibs.” Deek had been recruited to work for the government right out of college because his skills were off-the-charts good. Maybe Ally would have some similar opportunities too.
Ally said, “Thanks, Rachel. So, we think we’ve figured out the area where Lorenzo’s email came from. And we’ve gotten into Marcello’s phone records. What Wilma said is all true. We see the texts to prove it. It’s too bad Marcello disconnected his phone, or we could have tracked his exact location. We’re still trying to find any public records of Marcello’s arrest in that area, but we’re coming up short.”
Rachel flopped into a chair in front of Deek’s space-station-like console. “The police in LA are looking into things too, but it’ll take time before they can confirm what we already know because of Wilma. We have to let them do things by the book, though, so his father doesn’t get off on a technicality.”
Deek nodded. “Ally and I have looked at Marcello’s bank records. They show regular and increasing amounts deposited into Marcello’s father’s account. The police will see that too eventually. It helps that Ally had all the account passwords, though.”
“While we know Marcello would never willingly give money to the father he detests, it still doesn’t prove blackmail.” Rachel huffed out a breath. “I’m not sure what our next move is.” Rachel’s phone vibrated with a call. She glanced at the screen but didn’t recognize the caller. “Hello?”
“Hello, Ms. Wilson. It’s Marcello Romano. I’m sorry to contact you on your personal number, but I need for you to make a quiet money transfer please.”
She sat up so quickly, she nearly tumbled out of the chair. She drew a deep breath to let him have it, but then stopped. Had he dialed a wrong number, or was he under duress, and she was supposed to know that because he used the wrong name?
It wasn’t hard to put frost in her tone. “Hello, Mr. Romano. How much and into which account?”
Marcello let out a puff of air, as if he’d been holding his breath. “I’ll email you the account details. And I’ll need ten million. How long do you think that will take?” A muffled cough in the background confirmed he was on a speaker phone. Deek’s and Ally’s fingers started flying across keyboards, hopefully tracing the call from her cell records.
“Checking. One moment.” How would she know how long it’d take for that much money? Wait. T-shirt-wearing Deek was almost as rich as Marcello. She hit the mute button and asked, “How long would it take you to put together ten million dollars?”
Deek tilted his head. “A week to ten days minimum. And that’s assuming I’d be able to pull the money from various portfolios in a timely manner.”
She repeated exactly what Deek had said to Marcello.
There was a short pause before he said, “That’s too long. I have a business deal that needs immediate attention. Can you go to the bank and secure the funds for me?”
Business deal? She wasn’t sure what to say, so she took a stab in the dark. “Something we can use for collateral in the short term to obtain a loan?”
“Yes. I can send along the contract that I’ve signed and some financial paperwork for the company. But, Ms. Wilson, you need to remind the bank how much they don’t want to lose my business.”
Ah. Now she got it. He was being forced to sign something, most likely. “I will. But I don’t recognize the number you’re calling from. So, I’m sorry, but company policy dictates that I’ll have to ask you two security questions.”
“Of course.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “I should have told you from the beginning that my cell isn’t working in Italy. I’m arranging to buy a factory in my hometown.”
Okay. He was in his hometown. Now she just had to quickly think of a question to find out where that was. “First, I’ll need the pin number that allows me to access the funds.”
“Six seven nine two.”
“Great.” She hoped her question had sounded official enough to ask the next. “Then the name of you high school?” They didn’t call it high school in Italy, but Marcello would know that.
He didn’t hesitate. “San Michele.”
“Very good. I can proceed as soon as I receive the contract and account information.”
“I’ll send it to your private email account shortly. Do I have your assurance that you will handle this matter with utmost discretion? I don’t want Stella or the others to get wind of this and start snooping. This purchase needs to stay under the radar.”
Stella? Radar? Was he telling her not to go to the press? Or just the opposite? “I’ll handle this myself, of course. What number shall I phone to confirm when the transfers are made?”
There was a silence on the other end for a few moments before Marcello said, “Please reply to the same email I’ll be sending with the account information.” He cleared his throat and the charming Marcello voice said, “It was very nice to speak with you as always, Ms. Wilson.”
She couldn’t help her grunt. She was still furious with him. “I’ll get back in touch shortly.” She almost hung up but stopped. She’d still help him because he was her client, but she needed to know. “Give my regards to your new girlfriend.”
“You mean my fiancée, Rachel. I’d be very happy to do that.”
Her throat tightened. “Yes. I’ll be in touch. Goodbye.”
After she hung up the phone, she dropped her head into her hands. So the other woman hadn’t been a girlfriend. And he’d done just as Wilma had said. Tried to protect her and the kids and handle it alone. Wilma had mentioned that he carried a deep shame about something he’d never been able to let go of and would never want Rachel to know. He feared she’d think less of him, and he couldn’t bear that.
Whatever it was, he hadn’t cheated. And his problem was bigger than he was, and out of his control. So, she needed to put aside her trust issues and help the man she knew in her heart was a good one. A man who deserved her trust no matter what. She wouldn’t forget that again.
She lifted her head and found both Deek and Ally staring at her. “Sorry.” She cleared the emotion from her throat. “Well, there’s likely our blackmail proof, and it’s going to be sent right to my inbox. Marcello finally pulled his head out and figured he needs legal help to make the blackmail sto
p.”
Ally smiled weakly. “But you’re still going to help him, right? Not wait for the police to figure this all out. Even though you’re mad?”
“Of course. So, we’ll go to Italy and make some noise. Have you guys figured out where his hometown is yet?”
“Almost there.” Deek held up a finger. “Got it. Ally will you confirm with the high school name?”
“Already on it. Um, there’s two with that name and one similar with a longer name, but two are in the wrong location. We found him!” Ally threw up her arms in a double fist pump. “Let me call Marcello’s pilot and have him come pick us up. We can land in Florence and then drive about an hour north.” She looked up from the computer with a pathetically adorable begging face that would make the puppies proud. “Assuming I’m invited to come along and help?”
Rachel laughed. “Yes. You can come. I’ll ask Lori and my parents to watch the kids. They wouldn’t do well being hauled across the ocean and then all over Italy to chase down their idiot father.”
“Yes!” Another fist bump split the air. “So what’s next?”
Rachel dialed the cop in LA she’d been working with. “We get a little help from the police, and then we ask Stella to get the press involved. No one wants to see their favorite movie star being mistreated by the authorities. And I’ll win my own Oscar for the pathetic, scared girlfriend I’m going to show the press to compel them to help us.”
Marcello lay on the hard bed in his cell at the police station the next morning after his phone call to Rachel. He’d never been more tired in his life, but he hadn’t slept all night. All the thoughts racing through his mind wouldn’t let him rest.
The last time he’d been in the same cell, he’d been sixteen, covered in cuts and bruises and scared to death. But until his aunt had come to save him, he’d been strangely relieved that he’d be safely away from his father for a very long time.
He’d been so afraid of his father that he’d refused to go with his aunt at first, until she’d told him that his mother would never be the same, and that his father would never stop hurting him unless he left Italy for good. What would have become of him if it hadn’t been for his brave aunt?
Truly A Match (Rocky Mountain Matchmaker Book 4) Page 18
