by Cara Marsi
Dominic’s flight would put in him Vegas almost three hours after Lexie. Closing his eyes, he sent a silent prayer that he wouldn’t be too late.
****
She’d been home over an hour. Her parents had dropped her off at her townhouse with the promise she’d have dinner with them tomorrow night. Lexie lay on her bed, jet-lagged from the long flight, and despondent that she hadn’t seen Dominic before she left.
The lengthy flight had given her plenty of time to think. Had he only wanted sex? A part of her refused to accept that, wanted to think he cared for her. She’d spent her last days in Rome close to the hotel, careful not to venture too far. She’d bought the ceramic clock she’d been eyeing, eaten lots more pasta and gelato. But Dominic had never been far from her mind. She’d willed him to call her before she left, but he hadn’t. No way would she call him.
She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the pain and hurt. The Dominic she’d grown to know and love was intelligent, caring, and protective. She couldn’t have misjudged him that badly. But what the hell did she know about men?
A phone rang and she started. Her landline rang again, a reminder she hadn’t charged up her cell. She rolled over, reached for the phone, then sat up. “Hello.”
“You sound beat. Were you sleeping?”
“Oh, hi, Christy.” For a second, Lexie had imagined it was Dominic, that he’d somehow found her unlisted home number.
“You sound real glad to hear me,” Christy said in a wry voice. “I tried your cell but you didn’t answer.”
“The battery is dead. Again. As soon as I get a chance, I’m trading that thing in. I am glad to hear from you though. I got back to my house an hour ago and I’m jet-lagged, but strangely wired.” Lexie stared at the ceiling. The white, bland ceiling. Bland like her life without Dominic. Get over it, Lexie.
“I’m anxious to hear all about Italy and that mysterious Italian guy you met,” Christy said. “He sounds delicious. If you’re feeling too wired to sleep, how about we meet now for a drink?”
Sadness swirled through Lexie and she sighed. She was tired, but she wanted to tell Christy about Dominic, get her friend’s take on him. And she knew sleep would elude her for hours. “I’ll meet you. I can’t promise to be good company.”
“Not a problem. Let’s go to the café across from the fake Trevi at Caesar’s.”
Trevi. She’d first met Dominic at Trevi. Lexie closed her eyes, not sure she could bear seeing even a fake Trevi now. “Let’s meet somewhere else.”
“You love that café,” Christy said. “Besides, it’s easy to get to.”
Lexie blew out a breath. “Okay. See you in a half hour.”
She threw down the phone, jumped from the bed and started to the bathroom for a quick freshening up. The gifts! She had to dig out the gift she’d bought Christy.
Lexie grabbed her purse from the dresser and fished in it for the brightly colored silk drawstring bag holding the jewelry she’d bought for herself, her mom and her friends.
She dumped the contents of the bag onto the bed and spread them out over the pale green comforter, looking for Christy’s gift. She liked the way some of the Roman merchants had wrapped her purchases in little velvet bags. The sunlight streaming into the room glinted on a small dark blue velvet pouch shot through with gold threads.
Funny, she didn’t remember buying anything in such a pretty package.
She pulled the pouch toward her and opened it, letting the contents slide onto her palm. A pale blue nugget, rough cut, about two-inches around, fell into her hand. The fine hairs on her arms stood up, a strange foreboding. Lexie picked up the stone between her thumb and forefinger and held it to the sunlight, turning it slowly.
The sunlight caught the uncut facets of the clear stone, shooting sparks of blue-white light through it. She was no gemologist, but she knew this was no ordinary stone. She continued to rotate it, mesmerized at the depth of blue-white color playing off the sunlight and reflecting on the white walls.
Customs in Boston had rushed her through, taking her word on the items she declared, not checking her bags. What would have happened if they’d found this stone?
Where had it come from? Hot, burning fear swept over her. Would this gem incite someone to kill?
To kill her?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Dellose pulled the rental car to a stop across from the Cortese bitch’s house. His pulse jumped. She was in there. And so was the diamond. His fingers itched, missing the hard steel of his gun. Fucking airport security. He’d have to use his hands to kill her. He pulled the keys from the ignition and reached for the door handle. Time to get this over with. He had a flight to catch.
He froze. Someone was coming out of the house. He slid down in his seat to where he could watch without being seen. The Cortese woman ran down the steps to the small red car parked in the driveway, then got in and backed out.
Dellose started his car and followed her, keeping far enough away so she wouldn’t suspect. The American had found ways to elude him in Rome. She was alone here. No Interpol or police to help. She was his.
****
Lexie drove the short distance to the Strip, her mind on the strange stone she’d found with her things. She’d stuffed it back into the velvet pouch and thrown it into a drawer, then freshened up and rushed out to meet Christy. Where had the stone come from, and how had it gotten into her purse? Weird things had happened to her the past two weeks. Because of that stone? Shivers ran over her. If someone wanted that stone bad enough to pursue her all over Italy, they’d be after her here.
She gripped the steering wheel with unsteady hands, fighting a headache. Traffic slowed and she hit the brakes, barely missing the car in front of her. She gulped deep, calming breaths. She’d been watching too many CSI shows. There was nothing ominous about the blue-white stone. No one was chasing her for it.
One of the jewelers had probably given it to her by mistake. Or maybe it was some sort of promotion, a free gift with a purchase. But the stone flashed with a deep, penetrating light no mere piece of glass could capture. If it was valuable, she needed to return it. But to whom? Maybe she should go to the police. But she knew they wouldn’t help her any more than the Roman police had. The pain in her head intensified. She needed to calm down, think things through.
As she turned onto Las Vegas Boulevard, she looked in her rear view mirror. A large SUV, black with tinted windows, loomed behind her. Maybe it was following her. It couldn’t be. Lots of cars were heading for the Strip. Most of them SUV’s. Lots of them black.
Damn it all. Paranoia had her imagining evil everywhere.
****
Over an hour later, Lexie and Christy said good-by in front of the Trevi Fountain at Caesar’s. Christy fingered Lexie’s gift, a Murano glass pendant of a small frog hanging from a black satin cord. “I love that you remembered I love frogs. I’ve never seen anything like it. Thank you again.” She gave Lexie a quick hug.
Lexie smiled. “I bought that on a side trip to Venice. I bought one for me and Mom too, but different animal shapes. You should see the beautiful Murano vase I got myself. It’s deep yellow, with shots of green and blue and gold. It’s exquisite and cost way more than I should have paid, but I love it. Once I’m settled back in, I’ll have you over.”
“When do you start the new job?” Christy asked.
“In a month. Then in September, there’s grad school.”
Christy touched her arm. “We miss you at work, but we’re all envious you’re finally doing what you want.” Her eyes softened. “Don’t worry about your Dominic. How could he not love you? I have a good feeling about him.” She lifted her chin. “Remember, I was right about Jerry. I’m right about Dominic. Have faith.”
“Thanks for the support, Christy. Even if you’re wrong, I don’t regret knowing Dominic. And I can handle whatever happens. I’m not the same person I was five months ago, or a month ago.”
“That’s the spirit.” Christy glanced at her
watch. “I’d better get going. Talk to you later.”
They hugged again, then Christy left. Despite her jet lag, Lexie still felt wired and didn’t want to go home yet. She needed time to think, to sort out everything that had happened in the last two weeks. To figure out what the hell she should do about the strange blue-white stone.
Sitting at the café in front of Caesar’s Trevi had brought back too many memories of Dominic. She missed him. Did he think of her at all?
Her thoughts jumbled, she strolled past the high-end shops at Caesar’s. The Trevi fountain and the shops, filled with designer goods, were pale imitations of the real thing in Rome.
Rome. Dominic. All over. Or was it?
She stopped to look at some couture handbags, seeing a few she liked, but none as nice as the one she carried now, the one she’d bought in Rome. The day she’d bought her purse was the day all the weird stuff started happening. Was her new purse somehow tied in with the blue-white stone? How could it be?
Warning chills ran over her. Someone was watching her. She looked up. A pair of ice-blue eyes, cold, menacing, familiar, reflected in the window. Heart pounding, she whirled around.
But the man had disappeared just as suddenly as he’d appeared.
Her desire to window shop fled along with the ominous man. She hurried away, glancing from side-to-side as she walked. She didn’t see him again. But her vigilance wouldn’t subside until she was home.
The sensation of danger stayed with her all the way to the garage where she’d parked her car. The garage was crowded with noisy tourists, her protection, she hoped. She quickly got into her car and locked the doors, then drove out, going too fast. She didn’t care. She had to get the hell out of there.
On the ride home, she took several extra detours, but didn’t notice any car following her. Feeling more relaxed, but still on alert, she settled into her seat. Her imagination was going kerflooy. She’d feel better after a long nap, a shower, and a light meal. But she’d make sure to lock her doors and keep all the lights on.
She parked her car in her driveway and looked around, but the quiet street was empty. With a sigh of relief, she exited the car, and keys in hand, ran up the steps, unlocked the door and pushed it open.
A sense of foreboding swept her. She turned away, ready to go back down the steps, when a hand snaked from behind the door and grabbed her arm, pulling her into the house. The door slammed shut. She screamed.
The intruder clamped his hand over her mouth, stopping her scream. His other arm tightened around her midriff. He shoved her against his broad chest. She tried to twist free, but he held her tight, his hand still covering her mouth. “Any noise out of you and I’ll strangle you with my bare hands,” a rough, familiar voice, his Italian accent thick, growled in her ear.
Adrenaline shot through her veins, forcing out the fear that squeezed the air from her lungs. She jerked her head up and made contact with his chin, then brought her thin stiletto heel down on his foot.
“Bitch!” he yelled. He threw her away from him. She fell to the floor. He stomped over to her and yanked her up by her arm.
He released her and she staggered back. She looked at her attacker’s face for the first time. “You!” she managed. A rushing noise sounded in her head. The man of her nightmares stood grinning at her. Evil flowed from him.
Cold eyes, deathly blue, stared into hers. His nose was crooked, swollen, red. He’d attacked her in Rome. He’d followed her home. Fear escalated to terror.
“Where is it?” he rasped.
“Wh-where is what?”
“Stop playing games, bitch. I don’t have much time. Give me the diamond.”
Diamond. So that’s what the blue stone was. A diamond. Oh, God. Once she gave it to him, he’d kill her. Panic clenched her stomach and her insides shook. She fought to stay calm. Her life depended on it. She had to stall for time, had to get the hell out of the house. Desperation filled her with a strange peace. She wouldn’t let him kill her, not without a fight. She began backing slowly away, hoping he’d follow. If she could get him away from the door, she’d make a run for it.
“What diamond?” she asked, unable to keep the tremor from her voice.
He must have guessed her game because he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.
“You can give me the diamond nice like and I’ll leave, or I’ll kill you now and rip this place apart. Either way, I’m not leaving without the fucking diamond.”
Tears sprang to her eyes from fear and from the pain of his thick fingers squeezing her arm. She would die today, here in her own house. Whether or not she handed him the diamond. No, she would not die. Think, Lexie, think.
“So that’s what it was,” she said, smirking to disguise her terror. “I thought it was an ugly piece of glass. I threw it in the garbage dumpster out back.”
“Bitch!” he yelled again. He slapped her hard.
She stumbled backward. Tears streamed down her face. She would have fallen if he hadn’t been holding onto her arm.
“Get the diamond now, or when I’m done with you, you’ll pray for death.”
She drew ragged breaths, pulling air into her lungs. She wanted to close her eyes and pray for strength but if she was going to die, she wouldn’t go out with her eyes closed. A raging storm of anger rolled through her. How dare he!
“I told you it’s in the dumpster,” she snarled, surprised at the strength of her voice. “You’d better go look for it now. Garbage pickup is today.”
He slapped her across the face again. This time she fell, biting down on her lip. She tasted blood.
His face reddened and a vein throbbed in his temple. Fury emanated from him, enveloping her in new fear. Lexie tried to stand. In quick strides, he was at her side. He grabbed a hank of her hair and pulled her up. She screamed.
Her front door crashed open and Lexie screamed again. Her attacker, shock on his fat face, released her and spun around.
With a primal roar, Dominic lunged into the room and launched himself at her intruder. Gasping for air, Lexie pushed hair out of her eyes. Staring in disbelief, she staggered on shaky legs as the men hugged each other in a macabre dance as each fought for control. Dominic gained the advantage and threw the other man to the floor, then jumped on his chest. Fists flying, Dominic pounded the other man’s face. Grunts, snarls, and heavy breathing, mingled with the sound of bones crunching, vibrated through the room.
Her attacker howled in pain, then shouted in Italian, flailing out his arms. His fist caught Dominic under the chin. Dominic’s head snapped back, but he kept up his relentless assault. Hatred twisted Dominic’s features as his fists came down again and again. Blood spurted from the other man’s nose and mouth and covered Dominic’s fists. Lexie’s living room filled with the metallic odor of blood.
Heart pounding, she ran to the phone and called 911. As the operator answered, Lexie’s attacker, still on the floor, reached up and wrapped his hands around Dominic’s throat. The man’s face turned purple as his stubby fingers pressed into Dominic’s flesh.
Struggling to breathe, Dominic released his hold on the other man. Her attacker rolled away. Lexie dropped the phone and looked frantically around for something, anything to help Dominic.
Shaking his head like a wounded bull, Dominic labored to stand. The other man scrambled up and rushed Dominic, knocking him back to the floor. He jumped on top of Dominic and began choking him again. Dominic writhed under him, throwing his arms out, but couldn’t dislodge the scum from atop his chest.
Lexie’s gaze locked onto the large, heavy, and very expensive Murano vase she’d bought. She ran to the table and grabbed the vase.
Running back to the two men, she took careful aim and brought the vase down on the other man’s head. He staggered back, releasing Dominic.
Dominic lurched to his feet and grabbed the other guy, throwing him against the wall. Like a man possessed, Dominic punched and pounded until the man’s face was covered in blood and he slumped over,
sliding down the wall.
Dominic, fists bloody, turned to Lexie, his breathing harsh.
Sirens sounded, then doors slamming and running feet. Lexie ran to Dominic, but just as she took him in her arms, he collapsed, unconscious.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Well, that was interesting.” Lexie stood at her door and watched the cars pull away, the four police cars providing escort for the two large black SUV’s holding her attacker and the FBI agents. One of the agents had the blue diamond. She’d been glad to be rid of it. Dusk had settled around the usually peaceful neighborhood. Things had been far from peaceful today.
Her neighbors, who’d gathered in clusters outside, began to disband, but not before throwing inquisitive looks her way. She resisted the urge to go out and take a bow. If she’d wanted to introduce the world to the new Lexie, she’d sure done it with a bang. The neighbors would have something to talk about for months, maybe years—quiet, hard-working Lexie who kept to herself and followed all the rules involved with international jewel thieves and terrorists. She tried to smile, but the cut on her lip ached too much. Hugging herself, she turned to face Dominic.
His knuckles bandaged, he sat on her couch with the lamplight shining on his beautiful face, a face marred by new cuts and bruises to join the bruises and black eye from his fight in Rome four nights ago. Was it only four nights? She’d lost track of time. The paramedics who’d come with the Las Vegas police had treated them both, but they’d refused to go to the hospital. From the tightness around Dominic’s mouth, she knew he fought pain.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“I’m fine, now that I know you’re okay.”
She drew a deep breath. “You’re with Interpol?”
He nodded.
She shook her head. “You told the FBI you came all this way to protect me.” She pressed her palm against her suddenly trembling midsection. Damned delayed reaction.
“I knew you were in danger. No one would believe me. Not my boss at Interpol, not your police.”
