“No. Thank you.” She glanced at Darcy out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t hang around. He’ll be watching tonight.”
“Right. Let me know when you need another drink.”
Dropping her tray on the stack by the bar, she shoved through the swinging door into the kitchen. Leaning against the wall, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths. Theresa had come back. She was injured, but she wasn’t dead. Yet, a tiny voice whispered.
There was still a chance to help her.
The door swung open, fanning air across her face. Patrick walked through. Focused on her. “Darcy, would you come to the office for a moment, please?”
She followed him to the cubicle at the rear of the kitchen, where he waited for her to enter before closing the door.
“Snap out of it,” he said, grabbing her shoulders. “Right now. You want to help her? Then don’t make Chuck suspicious.”
“Did you see her face?” Darcy asked quietly. “I can’t even imagine what the rest of her looks like.” Tim had always been careful not to mark her face. He wanted the bruises hidden, where no one would notice and ask about them.
Theresa’s husband apparently didn’t care.
She shivered.
“I saw.” He slid his hands up and down her arms. Comforting her. Warming her. “I know this is hard for you. But keep it together. We’ll figure out what to do. Okay?”
She nodded. For Theresa’s sake, she could pretend.
She’d become excellent at pretending when she was married to Tim.
As she walked out of the office, Patrick picked up the phone.
An hour later, Theresa pushed away from the table. Darcy hurried to the restroom. Better to be there already than have Chuck see her following Theresa.
In case he accompanied Theresa, Darcy stood at the sink next to the wall. Hidden there, no one could see her until they actually walked in. She used a paper towel to wipe up small splashes of water on the marble counter while she waited.
When the door opened, she turned. Theresa flinched and drew back. Exhaled when she saw Darcy.
“What happened?” Darcy whispered.
Theresa lifted one shoulder. “The usual. It got out of control.”
Darcy took the woman’s hand. It was cold and dry, and she warmed it between both of hers. “You can’t stay there, Theresa. It’s too dangerous.”
Theresa stared at their joined hands. “I have nowhere to go.”
“There’s a women’s shelter in this neighborhood.” Darcy squeezed Theresa’s fingers. “I know the place—I volunteer twice a week. They’ll keep you safe and give you the help you need.”
Theresa drew away from Darcy’s clasp. “You don’t understand. My husband is...powerful. He won’t let me get away.”
“Why not?”
“I know things about him. Things he wants hidden.”
Dear God. Darcy had known things about Tim, too. That’s why she’d changed her identity and fled to another state. If she hadn’t, Tim would have come after her when he got out of jail. Killed her.
He’d told her exactly what he had planned.
“The first step is to get away,” Darcy said. “Then we’ll deal with the rest.”
“I’m never alone. Someone is always in the house. Chuck goes everywhere with me.”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“I don’t know.” Theresa’s eyes darted around the room, as if looking for a hidden camera. “If he catches me...”
“I’m not going to force you to do anything, Theresa. But you need to get ready. To seize any chance you get. All right?”
“Maybe.”
Darcy touched her shoulder. “Are there children at home?”
“They’re in college.”
“Okay. Do you have money stashed away?”
Theresa nodded. “I’ve been skimming from the household account. It’s hidden where he won’t find it.”
“Good. Put it in the lining of your purse, so you’re ready to leave anytime. Can you do that?”
Theresa nodded. The sliver of hope in her eyes was painful to see.
“Here’s what we’ll do.” Darcy tried to be matter-of-fact and calm. “You have my phone number. If you want me to pick you up, call anytime. From anywhere. Okay?”
“Why are you doing this?”
Darcy took a deep breath. Let it out. “Because I’ve been where you are. I was in the same kind of marriage. I got away, and you can, too.”
Theresa rubbed her shoulder absently. As if she barely noticed that it hurt. “Your husband—did he let you go?”
“Not by choice. But the shelter I went to helped me document the abuse, and I was able to get a divorce.”
Before Theresa could answer, Phyllis poked her head in the door. “Everything okay in here?”
As soon as the door began to open, Theresa bent over the sink and pretended to wash her hands. “I’m fine.”
Darcy shook her head at Phyllis, mimed zipping her lip and nodded at Theresa. Phyllis’s gaze shifted from one to the other, then she gave a tiny nod. “She’s just washing her hands,” she said to someone behind her. “Looks like it’s awkward with the cast.”
The door closed with a muffled thump, and Theresa’s hands shook as she reached for a paper towel. Then, with a fearful glance at Darcy, she pulled the door open and walked out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
AFTER CHUCK SLID off his bar stool and headed for the restrooms, Patrick motioned Jesse over. “Chuck drinks well scotch tonight.”
“Yeah, you told me that last time he was here. I got it.”
“Any trouble, I’ll handle it.”
“He’s all yours.” Jesse glanced at Chuck. “Dirtbag doesn’t tip.”
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Patrick pushed away from the bar and spotted Chuck standing near the restrooms, behind Phyllis.
His stomach tightened. Darcy was in there. With Theresa. He curled his hands into fists as he stared at Chuck’s back.
Was he the one who’d slashed Darcy’s tires?
Touch one hair on her head, and I will destroy you.
As long as he was around, no one would hurt Darcy again.
Phyllis stuck her head inside the door, then said something over her shoulder to Chuck.
Patrick tidied the small glass jars of maraschino cherries, lemon and lime slices, olives and onions as he watched. Chuck hesitated, then nodded to Phyllis and made his way back to the bar. A few moments later, Theresa emerged from the restroom and walked carefully back to her table.
The bruise was a dark shadow on her face, and she moved stiffly. Patrick tightened his grip on the tray. Bastard of a husband.
Chuck followed Theresa’s progress across the room, then his gaze returned to the ladies’ room.
Stay in there, Darcy.
Patrick scanned her tables and caught the eye of an older man. He hurried over, took the man’s drink order and brought it to the table. As he walked past Chuck, he noted the bulge beneath the guy’s jacket.
Wearing a gun again.
As soon as Chuck’s attention returned to the hockey game on the television, Patrick wandered through the back room, stopping at tables, talking to the customers. When he reached the alcove holding the restrooms, he tapped softly on the door to the ladies’ room.
A few moments later, Darcy emerged. She glanced at him, and he held her gaze longer than necessary.
You okay?
I’m fine. Thanks for the all-clear.
Anytime.
Finally a smile lit her eyes, and her mouth curved slightly. Then she nodded, a movement so tiny only someone watching carefully would notice. When he nodded back, she hurried toward the kitchen.
Patrick watche
d until she disappeared. God. Now he was imagining he could read her mind.
And she could read his.
He found himself following her toward the kitchen. Then the front door of Mama’s opened and Danny Kopecki walked in with his father.
“Danny,” he said, changing course to shake the detective’s hand. “Glad you stopped by. Mr. Kopecki.” With one last look at the kitchen door, he focused on the two men. “It’s been a long time. Good to see you.”
“Call me Mitch, Patrick.” The older man with the fringe of white hair smiled. “We go back too far to be so formal.”
“Right, sir. I mean Mitch.” It had been a while since he’d seen Danny’s father. The elder Kopecki had been a cop, too, but around the time Patrick’s parents died, he’d gone back to school, become a lawyer and joined the state’s attorney’s office. “How are things at the D.A.’s?”
“Busy as usual. There’s never a shortage of criminals.”
“Don’t I know that.” Patrick led them to a table in the corner, where Danny had a clear view of Theresa. Mitch sat opposite his son. “Hope you don’t mind that Danny and I have a little business to take care of.”
“Not at all. He filled me in on your situation. I’m just going to enjoy my dinner and keep him company. Be his cover,” Mitch added with a wink.
“Let me get the two of you a drink,” Patrick said.
“Thanks. Guinness’d be good,” Danny answered. He appeared to be studying the menu, but his gaze was on Theresa.
“Same for me,” his father said.
“Be right back.”
As Patrick entered the order, Ashley emerged from the kitchen. He motioned her over.
“I ordered Guinnesses for the guys at your corner table,” Patrick told her. “Their food and drinks are comped.”
“Okay,” the girl answered. She stood on tiptoes to look for Danny and Mitch. “Are they, like, famous?”
“Nah. The younger one is only a legend in his own mind.” When Ashley frowned, bewildered, Patrick bit his lip to keep from laughing. “He’s an old friend.”
Darcy came out of the kitchen, slowed when she saw him talking to Ashley, then kept going.
“Cool.” Ashley headed toward the bar for the beer, and Patrick watched Darcy for a moment. She was talking to a customer, smiling and gesturing. Then she scribbled on her order form and walked toward him.
He stepped aside so she could enter her order on the touch pad. As she typed, he leaned in. Inhaled her scent, even though he knew it was stupid. They were at work. “How’s Theresa doing?”
“How do you think?” She didn’t look at him. “Scared. Hurt. Ground down.”
“Be careful around her. Chuck’s suspicious.”
“I know.”
She finished her order and walked away.
A half hour later, when Chuck and Theresa left Mama’s, Patrick slid onto a chair at Danny’s table. Danny nodded, swallowed, then set his fork down. Mitch kept eating, watching both men. “Chuck Notarro. Used to be a bag man for Rizzulo. Freelances now. Total shithead. And you’re right. Guy’s carrying.”
“How about Theresa? Did you recognize her?”
Danny took a long drink of beer, then leaned forward. “Yeah, I know her. Watch yourself, Paddy. She’s Eddie O’Fallon’s wife. Eddie’s the alderman of this ward. Connected. Big-time.”
“Your guess was right.” Patrick glanced at Theresa’s regular table.
“Yeah. There are wife beaters everywhere.”
“You ever get any complaints from her?”
“Not that I know of. I’ll check, though. On neighbor complaints, too.”
“Can you get me his address?”
Kopecki frowned. “What are you planning, Paddy?”
“Nothing. Just want all the available info.”
After a long moment, Danny nodded. “I’ll call you.”
“Thanks for coming by, Danny.” He shook his friend’s hand, then Mitch’s. “And good to see you again, sir. Next time, let’s make it social. Bring your wives.”
“Don’t have one of those anymore,” Danny said. “How about you? That red-headed waitress going to join us?”
Patrick froze. “What are you talking about?”
Kopecki snorted. “You think I didn’t notice the way you looked at her? And she looked back?”
“Your imagination, buddy.”
“Don’t think so. I’m a trained detective, and I detect something going on.”
“Thanks for your help, Danny.”
The detective grinned. “Anytime, pal.”
After Danny and his father left, Patrick found Darcy in the kitchen. He drew her toward the office, where no one could hear them. “When did Theresa start coming into Mama’s?” he asked.
“It’s been a while.” She stared at nothing and frowned, clearly trying to calculate. Finally she said, “We were in the middle of the renovations. It was crazy, and it took me a few weeks to figure out what was going on.”
“Last winter, then?”
“That sounds right. Nathan started the project in January, since that’s our slowest month. Theresa and Chuck started coming in a couple of months after that.”
“Thanks, Darcy.”
She waited a moment, as if expecting him to tell her what he was thinking. He shook his head. “Make sure there’s no one waiting to be seated. I need to check on something.”
She hesitated. Clearly, she wanted to press him. But finally she headed out the door. Patrick sank into the desk chair.
In the documents he and Darcy had retrieved that morning, there had been no loan papers from a bank. No evidence at all to tell him where Nathan got that money.
Theresa and Chuck had begun coming after Nathan started the renovations. During the spring, Nathan wanted a break from the restaurant.
During the spring, he’d begun making payments to someone.
He was willing to bet the two were connected. And the key to what was going on at Mama’s.
* * *
SATURDAY WAS BUSIER than usual at Mama’s.
A lot of groups came in, and almost all of them consisted of a few adults and several preadolescent boys. The noise level in the restaurant had risen to a high-pitched whine that made his ears hurt. Kids stood up at long tables, shouting to friends at the other end. Finally, Patrick asked one man if something was going on in the neighborhood.
“Hockey tournament,” the guy said with a smile. “The rink isn’t far from here. Guy at the snack bar recommended this place for dinner.”
“I always like to hear that,” Patrick said, smiling. “Good luck in the tournament.”
“Thanks.” The guy counted heads as Patrick escorted his group to a table. By the time he’d made his way back to the front, two more groups were waiting to be seated.
As he called the busboy over and told him which tables to push together, he saw Chuck and Theresa at the back of the crowd. Chuck was gripping Theresa’s arm. Hard. Trying to elbow his way through the pack of kids.
Patrick edged through the group and put his hand on Chuck’s wrist. “Busy tonight. Let me help you.”
He found the pressure point he wanted and squeezed. Chuck’s hand opened and Theresa yanked her arm away.
“Sorry about the crowd,” Patrick said with a bland smile. He wanted to twist Chuck’s arm off and beat him with the stump. “Tournament in town. I’ll help the lady through the crowd and get her settled at her usual table. You go ahead to the bar.”
Chuck stared at him for a long moment. Finally he nodded once. Shouldering a parent aside, he marched to the bar and slid onto his usual stool.
“You okay?” Patrick murmured to Theresa.
“I’m fine.” She rubbed her arm, cradling it next to her body.
&nbs
p; Patrick fumed as he guided her to a table. She moved carefully, as if she was thirty years older than she looked.
“I’ll get Darcy for you,” he said once she was seated.
“Thank you. For what you did back there.”
“Believe me, it was my pleasure.”
He saw Darcy come out of the kitchen and let his gaze follow her across the room. As if she felt him watching, she turned toward him and began to smile. Saw Theresa and her smile fell away.
She nodded.
Theresa was still massaging her arm.
Patrick glanced at Chuck, who was sipping a scotch and watching television. The guy didn’t even care that he’d hurt the woman.
Probably enjoyed it.
Bastard.
He didn’t want Chuck in his place. This ended tonight.
After seating the waiting group, he stepped to the side and pulled out his cell. Dialed Kopecki. “They’re here again. I want this guy out of here permanently. Can you make it over here tonight?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Fifteen minutes later, Danny swung into a seat at the bar. He ordered a beer and struck up a conversation with the guy next to him. He didn’t look at Patrick.
Chuck downed three scotches in forty-five minutes. As he signaled Jesse for another, Patrick stepped close. “Did you drive over?” he asked.
“Yeah. So?”
“You need to slow down,” Patrick said in a quiet voice. “We have liability issues if a guest is overserved.”
“I’ll decide when I’ve had enough.” Chuck tilted the empty glass back and forth, trying to get Jesse’s attention. The bartender was carefully not noticing.
“Afraid that’s not your call,” Patrick said, still keeping his voice low.
Chuck let his glass drop. Swiveled on the stool. His chest seemed to swell as he confronted Patrick. “Yeah, it is. Where’s your brother?”
“He’s still recuperating,” Patrick said coolly. “He’s not part of the equation.”
“Your brother and I have...an understanding.”
“What would that be?”
“None of your business.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Patrick saw Danny tense. Several other patrons were watching, as well.
The Woman He Knows Page 16
