Deceiving Bella: Book Eleven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series
Page 29
“I plan on it.” He stepped back, breaking their contact when he wanted to stay. “See you tonight.”
“Bye.”
He left her to get ready and hurried downstairs, needing to get over to the Hills to pick up Sadie. At this point, he was stuck leading a double life, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be here for Bella when she needed him the most.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bella pressed the button for the fourth floor as she stepped into the elevator with Reed by her side. She smiled when the doors slid closed and he hooked his arm around her shoulders, pulling her back against his chest.
“How are you doing?” he asked next to her ear.
“Good.” She rested her palms on the warm skin of his forearm and leaned into his embrace, finding his cozy hold comforting. “I’m a little nervous, I guess.”
He hugged her closer, settling his chin on top of her head. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
She nodded, even as jittery anticipation and pure exhaustion wreaked havoc on her system. She was officially running on fumes after a night of minimal sleep and her nine-hour day. Her jam-packed schedule had passed in a blur of worry and second-guesses while she thought about Dad and replayed her morning conversation with Reed a million times. Despite the fact that she was still getting used to the idea of Reed knowing her secrets, it felt good to have everything out in the open. She’d never allowed herself to be so vulnerable, but that wasn’t what currently had her on edge.
Reed and Dad were about to meet for the first time. She nibbled her lip, wondering how that was going to go. Dad tended to be overprotective, and she hadn’t exactly mentioned that she was bringing along another visitor, particularly the man she was sleeping with. She hoped everything was going to turn out fine. Reed was an important part of her life, equally as important to her as Dad. She wanted the two people she adored most to know each other.
“Hey.” He jostled her gently. “You’re tensing up on me again.”
“I’m trying not to.” She inhaled deeply, then exhaled, consciously relaxing her shoulders. “Dad’s dinner smells good.”
“I think he’s going to like it.” He gestured to the bag he held in his opposite hand. “The woman at the deli said they make the best chicken stew around.”
“I’m sure he’ll love it, but he doesn’t eat a whole lot anymore.”
“Then he’ll enjoy what he can handle.” He nuzzled her neck. “I bought some for us too.”
Smiling, she turned enough so she could meet his gaze and clasp her hands around his waist. “You did?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He let his forehead rest against her temple. “Sandwiches too. And maybe a couple of brownies.”
Her heart melted. “That’s very sweet.”
“I put everything in the fridge while you took Lucy out to go potty before we left. I figured we would chow down when we got home.”
“Sounds perfect.” She let her fingers slide through his hair, savoring this moment when everything felt warm and perfectly safe. “Thank you. For dinner. For coming with me. For being here.”
He lifted his head and kissed her. “There’s nowhere else I want to be.”
The elevator dinged and the door opened. Bella let loose a small sigh as they broke their connection and stepped out, walking to the nurses’ station. “Good evening,” she said to the nurse sitting behind the desk—a different woman than the one who had been there this morning. “I’m Bella Colby. I’m here to see my father, Vincent Pescoe, in room four twenty.”
The nurse glanced at the duty board over her shoulder and turned back. “Go on down, honey.”
“Thank you.”
Reed took her hand as they started down the hall. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Your dad’s last name is Pescoe, right?”
She tossed him a curious glance. “Yeah.”
“Why isn’t yours?”
“He wanted me to have Mom’s.” She shrugged. “I don’t know why, exactly, but I have to admit I like Colby better.”
He smiled. “Isabella Colby has a nice ring to it.”
She grinned. “I happen to agree.” They stopped outside his door, and she took a deep breath as her nerves came rushing back. “I guess we’re here.”
He tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s going to be fine.”
She nodded. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s do this.”
She pushed down on the door handle and stepped inside, frowning as she studied Dad’s ghostly complexion while he slept. He looked worse now than he had before. “Daddy?”
He opened his eyes. “Bella.” He tried sitting up some as he looked at Reed.
“How are you feeling?”
He pressed the button on the bed, turning off the TV. “A little better.”
“I brought someone to meet you,” she said as she glanced back at Reed. “We brought you some dinner.”
He cleared his throat. “I’m not much good for company.”
“I know. We won’t stay long.” She walked over to him and kissed his forehead, then pressed her hands to his cheeks, relieved to find him cool to the touch. “Your fever’s gone.”
“It broke this afternoon. They say the drugs are helping this time around.”
“Good.” She scrutinized the mostly empty bag of antibiotics hanging on the IV pole, then gave her attention back to Dad. “Did they run any more tests?”
“Just some blood work.”
She smoothed his blankets across his chest. “Have you been eating and drinking?”
“A little.”
“Good.” She touched his cheeks again, wanting to be certain he was indeed on the mend.
He took her hand. “I’m doing fine.”
She nodded. “I want you to meet Reed.”
“Reed McKinley.” Dad studied him with sharp eyes.
“That’s me.” He stepped forward and shook Dad’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Pescoe.”
“Call me Vinny since my daughter’s willing to call you her boyfriend.”
“Vinny,” Reed said with a small nod.
“Bella talks about you—says you treat her well.”
“I try.”
“Good.” He sat up taller, the protective light still shining in his eyes. “You’ll want to keep that up.”
“Reed’s very good to me,” she soothed with a pat on Dad’s arm, wanting to move things along in a more positive direction. “He picked up dinner for you—chicken stew. Do you think you’re up for it?”
Dad glanced toward the bag in Reed’s hand with interest. “I could probably try a bit.”
“Supposedly it’s the best around.” Reed pulled out the small to-go container and set it on the tray.
Dad rolled the mini table closer. “Smells great.”
Bella ripped the spoon and napkin from the plastic baggy and handed them over. “This might help with your energy.”
He took a small sample and nodded. “This is damn good.”
She beamed, happy to see Dad eating something. And the worst of the tension in the room seemed to have subsided. “Enjoy it.”
“Go ahead and have a seat,” Dad invited.
Reed took one of the two chairs, sitting next to Bella.
“So, Reed McKinley, what is it that you do to make a living?”
“Close protection. I’m a bodyguard.”
Dad paused with a chunk of carrot on his spoon. “Really? And who do you guard?”
“Wealthy businessmen and women, celebrities.”
Bella hooked her arm through Reed’s and leaned against him. “Right now, he’s handling a stalker case for a teenage girl.”
“Like she’s being followed or whatnot?”
“Pretty much,” Reed confirmed. “She’s received some disturbing notes—has been tailed three or four times, which means I’m back in high school for the time being.”
Dad grinned. “Well, how about that?”
�
��It’s been an experience. If I ever have a daughter, I’m locking her up until she’s thirty and throwing away the key.”
Dad laughed.
Bella blinked her surprise, smiling her delight. It had been years since she’d heard one of Dad’s full-out laughs. She grinned at Reed, thanking him for such an exceptional gift.
He winked and took her hand, lacing their fingers.
Several minutes passed with easy conversation—mostly pointless small talk. By the time Dad finished half of his dinner, he looked tired again. Setting the spoon down, he gave a satisfied pat to his belly. “I think that was enough for me.”
Bella lifted her head off Reed’s shoulder. “We should probably be thinking about heading out so you can rest.” She stood and gathered the trash, handing it to Reed when he reached for it.
“I wish I had the energy for you to stay longer.”
“Next time.”
“Thank you for coming and bringing me something delicious.”
“You’re welcome.” She fixed his covers again. “If you need anything, please call me or have the nurses call me. Anytime, day or night.”
“They’re thinking I’ll be able to go home on Sunday.”
“That’s great.” She poured more water into his cup from the small pitcher—just in case he needed it after she left. “I’ll be here to get you.”
He shook his head. “You have things to do. A life to live.”
“I’ll be here to get you,” she repeated, refusing to argue with him. “I’ll pick up some groceries and put some meals in the fridge for you as well.”
“I’m under the weather, not helpless.”
She suppressed a sigh of frustration. Why did Dad have to be so stubborn? “I know that, but the last thing we want is for you to go to the store and catch more germs. Give yourself some time to recover.” She kissed him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No. I’ll see you on Sunday. Tomorrow you go to lunch with your friends or do something with Reed. Take Lucy to the beach.”
She frowned. “But my whole day’s free.”
“And you need your rest too. You’re tired, Bella.” He touched gentle fingers to the dark circles under her eyes. “A father knows when his daughter needs a break. Don’t make me tell the nurses you aren’t welcome in my room.”
She gaped. “Daddy—”
He tossed her a stern look, assuring her that he wasn’t kidding. “Don’t make me tell them, Isabella.”
“Okay. Fine.” She huffed out a breath. “But I’m going to call.”
He rested his head against the pillow and turned on the TV, his hint that he wanted them to go. “You can call.”
“Bella, we should head out. It was nice to meet you, Vinny.” Reed extended his hand again.
“And you. Take care of my little girl.”
“I will.”
She leaned over, hugging Dad tight. “I’ll see you Sunday.”
He returned her embrace. “See you then.”
They walked out into the hall, hand in hand, and started back the way they came, passing the nurses’ station.
“I’m sorry Dad was a little intense.”
He shrugged. “He’s your dad. I didn’t expect anything less.”
“You made him laugh.”
“I’m a part-time comedian.”
“No.” She stopped, wanting Reed to understand. “I haven’t heard him laugh like that since I was a little girl. I forgot what that sounded like.”
He exhaled a deep breath as he held her gaze.
“Almost twenty-one years.”
“That’s a long time.”
She nodded as her eyes grew misty. “Yeah.”
He brought her knuckles to his lips. “Let’s go home.”
She nodded again as the elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. “You’re coming over tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ll come over for a little while.” He wrapped his arm around her as the doors slid shut, much like he had on their ascent to the oncology floor.
She relaxed against him, and for the first time in nearly a week, her world felt like it was finally starting to settle again.
~~~~
Reed twisted the key in his front door and let himself into his place while he waited for Joey to pick up his phone. He glanced toward the second-story lights shining bright in Bella’s house, knowing he had to be quick.
“How’d it go?” Joey answered on the third ring.
“Good. Better than expected.” Hurrying upstairs, he stripped out of his jeans and T-shirt. He grabbed his favorite pair of ratty gray sweat shorts and put them on, then threw his laptop in its case—his excuse for coming over to his condo so he could call Joey. “He’s in rough shape, though—definitely dying.”
“That bad?”
“It’s not good.” Vincent Pescoe did not look like Nicoli Caparelli. Cancer had been unkind to the one-time mobster—to the point that Reed had second-guessed himself a couple of times while he’d studied Bella’s father from his chair in room four twenty. The frail, thin man lying in the bed was a startling contrast to who he’d been in his glory days. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Sounds like we should be bringing in Skylar on this. We’ve done the preliminary work. If we’re going to make something happen, it’s now or never.”
He’d been thinking the same thing on the hour-long drive home. Reaching out to their FBI contact and Reed’s longtime friend was the next step. “I’ll give her a call.”
“Let me know what she says.”
“I’ll send you a text.” He shouldered the computer bag, shut off the bedroom light, and headed downstairs. “I need to get back to Bella. She’s had a long day.”
“How are things going between you two?”
“They’re going. I believe her, Joe. I can’t help but believe her. If we could just explain the pictures…” He hated that the connection was still there—still plaguing him, still making him question and doubt. He locked up and started across the side yard.
“Hopefully Caparelli will be able to clue you in on what the hell’s going on.”
“If he’ll even talk to me.”
“You brought him dinner. You’re sleeping with his daughter. He’ll talk to you. Maybe to tell you to fuck off, but he’ll definitely have something to say.”
He grunted his response, again on the same page as his partner. Things were finally happening—moving in the direction he and Joey had worked so damn hard for. How ironic was it that now that he had bedside access to one of the top dogs in the Caparelli crime family, the only thing he was worried about and focused on was Isabella Colby. Tomorrow he would have his answers when he paid Vinny another visit—or the one that mattered the most. Bella was either part of the life or she wasn’t. If nothing else came out of meeting with Nicoli, he needed to know that. “Let’s hope he loves his daughter enough to do the right thing.”
“Let me know what Skylar says.”
“Will do.” He hung up and stepped inside Bella’s entryway, satisfied when he heard the water running through the pipes. She was still in the shower. Securing the locks for the night, he moved into the kitchen, searching through his contact list for Skylar Grayson’s number. He sent the call through and waited, his heart kicking up a beat, knowing that Skylar would make this case or break it. And he had to hope like hell she was up for keeping this between the three of them. Vincent Pescoe was in no shape to run. If word got out that Vincent Pescoe was Nicoli Caparelli, he wouldn’t be able to hide fast enough.
“Special Agent Grayson.”
“Skylar, it’s Reed McKinley.”
“Reed McKinley. I swear I’ve heard that name before.”
He smiled as he opened the refrigerator, pulling out the container of chicken stew he’d put away for later. “I have something big. Can I trust you with it?”
“How big?”
He grabbed two bowls next. “As big as it gets.”
“Yeah, you can trust me with it.”
“Nicoli Caparelli.”
“The one and only.”
“And how did you do that?”
He leaned against the counter, keeping his ears trained and his eyes on the stairwell across the room. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I thought you gave up police work, bodyguard.”
“You didn’t expect me to get out of the game entirely. Now that I don’t have all those pesky rules and procedures to follow, it’s more fun.”
“Where is he?”
“I have an in.”
“Which is?”
“I can talk to him tomorrow.”
“And what will you two be talking about?”
He glanced at the ceiling as the water shut off upstairs. “About how he’s going to help keep Alfeo locked away for the rest of his miserable days.”
“And why do you think he won’t just kill you, ditch your body, and take off?”
“Because he’s sick. Dying. He’s got a couple months left.” The line stayed silent and he knew he had her. “Think of all of those prison letters and phone calls we tried to decipher over the years. You’ve got two dead mafia men on your hands, and you know the orders are coming from the Godfather himself while he sits in his cell. Do you think that’s going to stop?”
“We’ve got a statute of limitations.”
Bella’s footsteps moved from the bathroom to the bedroom. “Not on murder. Not on class A felonies. And we both know Alfeo has plenty of those under his belt.”
“No, we don’t. Nothing we can prove or we would have done it already.”
“That’s where Nicoli’s going to come in. We just need something to stick, something solid little brother might be able to hand over, and Alfeo’s done.”
“You see what you can come up with and we’ll talk.”
He shook his head, even though Skylar was hundreds of miles away in Manhattan. “We’ll talk and I’ll see what I can come up with.”
“I’ll talk to my supervisor.”
“Wrong.” He ignored the beeping microwave, knowing he was running out of time. “We’ll keep this to ourselves until I get something worth mentioning. I want to know you’re in once I do. Whatever it takes, we’re moving forward with keeping that son of a bitch in prison and protecting Nicoli while we’re doing it.”