Come on, guys! Hurry up! She was yelling in her head.
She resisted his embrace, but his hands were locked around her. “I’ll bet you’re a good kisser,” he purred. She could feel the rumble of his voice in her chest.
She laughed nervously. “I think you’re getting a little ahead of the game,” she said.
Come on, guys! Take him now, please!
“No, I can tell about these things,” he said, pulling her closer. “I’ll bet you’re a dynamite kisser.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, keeping her tone light as she tried to push him away. Unfortunately he was stronger than she’d thought, and he wasn’t taking the hint.
Now, guys! Before I put his eyes out.
“Let me just see if I’m right,” Taffy said. “Just one kiss.”
In your dreams, she thought. Just one kiss was like saying, I’m just gonna have one cookie.
“I don’t think this is good idea,” she said as she struggled to keep him off her.
But he could not be dissuaded. His lips were rummaging around in the dark, looking for hers. She turned away to avoid him, but he was persistent.
“Enough!” she finally said.
But he wasn’t listening. He wasn’t about to give up.
Marvelli! she thought. Where the hell are—?
Suddenly she felt something next to her cheek between their faces, something cold and hard and metal. She jumped, suddenly realizing that someone else was standing right there.
“What the hell—?” Taffy said. He let go of her and moved back a step. “What do you think you’re doing?”
But when he moved away, light from the next streetlamp suddenly illuminated the short dark figure. Loretta’s heart stopped. It wasn’t Marvelli, and it wasn’t Sammy or Rispoli. It was Special Agent Veronica Springer, and she was holding a silver 9mm automatic in Loretta’s face.
“Bad choice, Taf,” Springer said under her breath. Her eyes were rivetted on Loretta. “You picked the wrong cutie-pie this time.”
Taffy was pissed. “What the hell’re you talking about?”
Springer twisted the gun barrel into Loretta’s rouged cheek. “Nice look,” she said sarcastically.
Loretta didn’t have a comeback. She wasn’t breathing.
“Shall we stroll?” Springer asked. It wasn’t a question.
30
Moonlight shimmered over the harbor as Loretta clopped across the wooden dock in her high heels. She could hear the distant whoosh of traffic on Alaskan Way. She could also hear the footsteps walking right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Taffy and Agent Springer, both with their guns out. With the end of the dock straight ahead, Loretta was convinced they were going to make her walk the plank.
All things considered, that might be the easy way out, she thought.
The dock was lined with pleasure boats of all sizes and varieties, but none of them seemed to be occupied. Even if they were, Loretta didn’t dare try calling out for help. If Agent Springer didn’t gun her down, Taffy surely would now that he knew who she really was. Neither of them had any compelling reason to keep her alive.
“Take a left,” Taffy said gruffly. “Right here.”
“Here?” Loretta asked, pointing to a tugboat moored to the dock. It had a barn-red pilothouse with polished brass fittings that shone in the dark and curtains over the portholes.
Much too pretty to be a working boat, she thought. Must be a houseboat.
“Go aboard,” Agent Springer ordered flatly.
When Loretta hesitated, trying to see where she was going in the dark, Taffy jabbed her in the back with the barrel of his gun. “Hurry up!” He stepped aboard right after her and went to the door to the pilothouse. He knocked five times, slow and deliberate. Then Loretta heard a bolt being thrown on the inside. The door swung open, and pale yellow light spilled onto the deck as if it had been heaved from a bucket.
“In,” Taffy said, jabbing her with his gun again.
“All right! I’m going!” she snapped, annoyed with the prodding. But before she went in, she looked down the length of the dock for signs of Marvelli, but there was no one.
Jerk! she thought. A sinkhole suddenly opened up in the pit of her stomach as she realized that she was all alone out here. No one was going to rescue her. For some reason Marvelli had abandoned her.
She stepped inside and squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light. Seated at a butcher-block kitchen table were the twin nitwits, Larry and Jerry, both with their guns conspicuously jammed into their waistbands like a couple of pirates. Annette and Jennifer were also at the table, but they weren’t tied and gagged the way Loretta would have expected them to be. A yellow legal pad was at the center of the table, pens scattered all around. A mammoth bucket of fried chicken was on the kitchen counter, at least half of it still left, along with leftover coleslaw, mashed potatoes with gravy, and biscuits. Loretta looked closer and saw that the four of them were playing hangman. They stared up at her with empty faces as if they hadn’t been expecting company.
“Hey, look who’s here,” Jerry said, suddenly enthusiastic.
“How ya doin’, Loretta?” Larry said. “Long time no see.”
Dumb as doo-doo, Loretta thought.
The two women seemed to be unharmed, although Annette’s hair was so frazzled it looked as if she’d just gone through electroshock therapy. Jennifer’s long, lovely locks, on the other hand, looked perfect. In fact, she looked great, which just aggravated the hell out of Loretta. The woman could be held hostage and still manage to look beautiful. Who did she think she was? Patty Hearst? It wasn’t fair.
A sour expression was fermenting on Annette’s face. “Loretta?” she said, both skeptical and condemning. “What did you do to yourself?” She painted the air with her hand. “You look like a putan’!”
“What’s a putan’?” Loretta asked. It didn’t sound like a compliment.
“A whore,” Taffy said with a weird grin on his face.
“In Italian,” Agent Springer clarified as she slammed the door shut and threw the bolt.
“You used to be such a nice girl, Loretta,” Annette scolded. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story,” Loretta said, not wanting to get into it right now. She had her eye on Springer, who was moving around the room like a nervous cat, staring blankly at the bucket of chicken on the counter. The gun was in her right hand; the other hand was a closed fist, and she was shaking it as if she were shaking dice.
“Let us go,” Loretta said to Springer. “You’re in enough trouble as it is. Don’t make it worse.”
Springer shook her head as she shook her fist, still pacing, still staring blankly.
Loretta pointed at Taffy. “If you help him kill Rispoli, then you’ll be charged with murder, too. You know that.”
Springer kept shaking her head. “No,” she muttered. “Won’t happen that way.” She seemed to be talking to herself.
Taffy’s voice boomed through the pilothouse. “Then how will it happen?”
Larry and Jerry were frozen, eyes wide, like little kids who were afraid they were in trouble. Annette was glaring at Springer, waiting for her to answer Taffy’s question. Jennifer was staring at Springer, too, but the look on her face was blank resignation.
“Just let me think,” Springer muttered, shaking her fist furiously. “I’ll figure it out. Just let me think.”
Taffy snatched her wrist and pried her hand open. Two little white pills bounced to the floor. Loretta knew what they were. Diet pills.
Taffy stepped on the pills and crunched them under his shoe. “Don’t overheat your brain, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ve already got it all figured out.”
Everyone was waiting for Taffy to explain when Jennifer’s voice suddenly cut through the silence. “You’re going to kill us,” she said evenly. “That’s what you’re gonna do.”
Taffy grinned. “Very good,” he said. “At least there’s one broad here who’s got half
a brain.” He looked at Larry and Jerry. “And who would’ve thought it would be the bimbo?” Taffy started laughing, and the loyal twins joined in to be polite even though they didn’t understand.
But then Taffy stopped laughing. He gave the twins a grim look, and immediately they stood up and pulled out their guns, flanking their boss. They were facing Loretta, Annette, and Jennifer with guns leveled.
“So where do you stand?” Taffy asked Springer, who was off to the side, looking frazzed and jittery, her eyes darting back and forth between the three women and the food on the counter.
“Oh, go on and have a piece,” Loretta said sarcastically. “You’re too skinny anyway.”
Springer’s eyes snapped like a whip as she shifted her gaze and stared into Loretta’s eyes. Slowly she raised her gun and pointed it at Loretta’s chest. The FBI agent moved her position so that she was in line with the men, facing the women. “This is where I stand,” she said in a low growl.
Loretta’s stare didn’t waver, but she was screaming in her head: Marvelli! Where the hell are you?
31
Four muzzles were staring at Loretta, Jennifer, and Annette, but the only one that was shaking was Agent Springer’s. She was trying to concentrate on the murders at hand, but that bucket of chicken on the counter kept distracting her. She wanted to eat so bad it hurt.
“Why don’t you just take your pills?” Loretta asked. “Don’t you have any more?”
“Shut up!” Springer screamed. She closed her eyes and took a few seconds to get her temper under control. “Just be quiet,” she said slowly and evenly.
But Loretta was feeling reckless. Maybe it was the double espresso she’d had at the restaurant. Caffeine was pulsing through her veins like electricity.
“Go ahead, have some chicken,” Loretta taunted. “It’s probably fried chicken. Bet you haven’t had fried food in a long time.”
But instead of getting angry, Springer calmly reached for the bucket and held it out to Loretta. “Why don’t you have a piece?” Springer said. “You and fried food must be old friends.”
Loretta narrowed her eyes. “What’d you say?”
“Or what is it they say about cops? They never met a doughnut they didn’t like?” A mocking smile curved one end of Springer’s mouth. She shook the bucket as if it were Loretta’s dog bowl. “Go on, have some.”
Loretta’s eyes were popping out of her head. She wanted to grab the little witch by the throat and cram thighs, wings, and drumsticks down her gullet.
“Loretta, calm down,” Annette warned.
“Shut up, lady,” Larry said.
Jerry put in his two cents’ worth. “Yeah, shut up.”
“Everybody shut up!” Taffy shouted. When it was quiet, he looked directly at Loretta and continued. “Now, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna walk out across the dock to another boat, a nice big cabin cruiser, and we’re all gonna take a nice cruise. When we get out where no one can see us, we’re gonna do you girls the old-fashioned way.”
“You mean you’re just going to shoot us?” Jennifer asked.
Taffy shook his head and looked down at her feet. “Cement overshoes. It’s a more natural way to go. And very traditional.”
Springer gave him a grim look as if she didn’t approve.
“First Miss Jennifer,” Taffy said to Loretta, “then Annette, and you last. After we finish our date.” He was staring at her cleavage.
Loretta frowned. “What’re you talking about?”
“Think about it, sweetheart. A man pays for dinner, he expects a little something in return.” He was grinning from ear to ear.
Loretta was livid. “You rotten son of a—”
Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Taffy’s smarmy expression instantly drooped. “Put your guns away,” he whispered, sticking his little automatic in the side pocket of his suit coat. Springer put hers back into her shoulder holster. Jerry and Larry stuck their guns in their waistbands at the small of their backs and faced the door.
“Who is it?” Taffy called out.
“Frank Marvelli. I’m alone.”
Loretta’s heart started to pound.
“I got a message for you, Taffy,” Marvelli said through the door.
“What is it?”
“Open the door first.”
Taffy signaled to the twins to check the windows. Larry and Jerry tiptoed to separate portholes, peered out, then tiptoed back to Taffy.
“He’s alone,” Larry whispered, but he looked dubious.
“He’s wearing just a T-shirt and his pant legs are rolled up to his knees,” Jerry said. He looked at his brother. “I think he’s trying to tell us he isn’t carrying a piece.”
Larry shrugged. “He has a cell phone in his hand, though.”
Taffy thought about it for a moment, then nodded at the door. “Let him in. But keep him covered.”
The twins pulled out their guns, and Larry threw the bolt. “It’s open,” he said, and stood back, his gun ready.
The door swung open, and there was Marvelli in a black T-shirt that showed off his muscles, his jeans rolled up to his knobby knees. Both hands were up where they could be seen, and in one he was holding his cell phone. He scanned the room quickly, then Loretta caught his eye. What the hell are you doing? she wanted to scream at him. You’re going to get yourself killed!
Jerry slammed the door shut.
Taffy sneered at Marvelli with undisguised contempt. “So what’s the message?” he asked.
Marvelli held out the cell phone.
Taffy didn’t want to take it. He didn’t trust this Marvelli as far as he could spit. He didn’t trust anybody.
He glanced at Veronica Springer, who was just standing there like she wasn’t part of this. Taffy didn’t trust her either. He could see it in her prissy little cat face. She was figuring out how to distance herself from this. She was bailing out, the little witch.
Marvelli shoved the phone at him. “Take it. It’s for you.”
Taffy looked right and left at the twins by his side, making sure they were in place in case Marvelli tried something funny, then he glanced at Loretta poured into that skirt just the way he liked it, wishing he’d never seen her in the first place. Finally he took the phone. “Hello?”
A raspy voice was on the other end. “Let ’em go, you miserable bastard.”
“Rispoli? Is that you? Where the hell are you?”
A mocking laugh turned into a smoker’s cough. “I’m where you ain’t gonna find me. That’s where I am.”
“But you’re near here. I know it.” Taffy had stomach cramps. Rispoli was cunning and he was cold, the best hit man there ever was. If he was anywhere nearby, no one was safe.
Springer sidled up next to Taffy and leaned in close so she could hear the phone. Just like a goddamn cat, Taffy thought.
“So talk to me, Gus,” Taffy said. “What do you want?”
“I told you what I want,” Rispoli yelled. “Let ’em go. All of’em.”
“And what do I get out of this?”
“I won’t testify against you, that’s what you’ll get.”
“And what’s my guarantee?”
“You want a friggin’ guarantee, go to Sears.”
“I’m just supposed to take your word for it. What’re you, kiddin’?”
“That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”
Springer was staring at him, waiting to see how he played this, but her face told him nothing. She was no help whatsoever.
“And what happens if I don’t accept your terms?” Taffy asked Rispoli.
“You’ll see.” Rispoli hung up.
“Now what?” Springer said. All of a sudden she seemed nervous.
Taffy wanted to slap her.
32
“What the hell’s going on?” Taffy said, flinging the cell phone back at Marvelli. “What’s Rispoli talking about?”
Marvelli caught the phone, but he was so mad he could barely speak. He couldn�
�t stop thinking about the shoddy medical supplies Taffy had sold, wondering how many people had died because of them, wanting to believe that Taffy was at least partially responsible for his wife’s terrible suffering before she’d died. He glanced at his mother-in-law and sister-in-law, trying to avoid looking at Loretta. He felt guilty thinking what he was thinking about Loretta. He should still be in mourning for Rene, he felt. But Loretta was on his mind.
Taffy started shouting: “So whattaya think you’re gonna do to me? You think I’m worried about Gus Rispoli? Forget about it. And as for you two”—he pointed at Loretta and Marvelli—“you’re just pimples on my butt. You’re nothing.”
Marvelli wanted to coldcock him, but Larry and Jerry had their guns out, and they weren’t smart enough to have second thoughts.
“And you,” Taffy said, shaking his fist at Loretta, “I never thought a woman like you could ever betray me like this.”
“I didn’t betray you,” Loretta said. “I was never on your side.”
“Oh, yes, you were,” Taffy said, pointing to his temple and smiling like a snake. “In my mind you were. In my mind we were like spoons in a drawer. I was all over you, doing the nasty. Doing things you would never imagine in your dirtiest dreams. Making you squeal like a—”
The cell phone flew across the room and beaned Taffy in the head. Marvelli lunged right after it, going for Taffy’s throat. He’d heard enough. No one should ever dare talk to Loretta that way.
Marvelli grabbed Taffy by the lapels and wrestled him to the floor. Taffy smashed him across the face with his forearm, but Marvelli didn’t feel a thing. As they tussled on the floor, Marvelli fought to get both hands around Taffy’s throat, determined to strangle him.
But the twins were on top of Marvelli in a flash. Jerry grabbed him by the collar and hauled him off Taffy while Larry jammed the barrel of his gun between Marvelli’s nose and cheek.
“Do him!” Taffy screamed. His face was scarlet.
Double Espresso (A Loretta Kovacs thriller) Page 20
