Vince leered up at her. “Aww Katie, you still want to be my pretty little whore?”
Her finger quivered on the trigger guard, and she adjusted her grip again, taking a shaky breath. Could she really pull the trigger? Or should she let the police deal with him? “Call me a whore all you want, but you’re a gangster, Vince. You’re scum.”
He laughed, but it ended in a wince. “And Lucchesi ain’t? He’s one of the big bosses. Why you think my uncle hates him so much?”
“What?” Kate looked behind her at Enrico, who was untying his feet. When Vince’s fingers wrapped around her ankle, her stomach lurched like a car on black ice. She’d done exactly what he wanted.
Vince jerked her leg out from under her. She fell to the other knee. “No!” she screamed and squeezed the trigger, firing two rounds into the base of Vince’s throat just as Ruggero burst through the door, gun drawn.
Kate swung around and aimed the Beretta square at Enrico, ignoring Ruggero, even though his gun was no doubt trained on her.
Enrico cried out for Ruggero to stop. Why was he so sure she wouldn’t shoot him? Kate glanced at Ruggero. His gun was indeed pointed at her, but she didn’t lower the Storm. Enrico was going to tell her the truth; a gun in the face would ensure it. “What was Vince talking about? Who are you?”
He left his Glock on the floor, then stood up. Skirting her and Vince, he crossed the room until he was between Ruggero and her, his eyes holding hers. When Ruggero moved to get an unobstructed sightline on her, Enrico turned to look at him, his voice angry. “Leave us.”
“I can’t. She has a gun on you.”
Enrico stepped closer to her, blocking Ruggero’s sightline again, but he was careful to keep his hands half-raised. “Kate, Vincenzo would say anything to drive a wedge between us.”
Had Vince lied? He’d certainly meant to trick her. And he’d hated her. She looked down at his bleeding body and burst into sobs. Her hands started to shake, almost completely out of her control, and she put up the Beretta, letting it rest against her shoulder. Enrico slowly closed the distance between them.
She was sobbing full out now, scaring herself. She let Enrico take the Storm from her hands. He handed it to Ruggero as he folded her in his arms. The sudden heat of his body told her how cold she was. And naked. In front of Ruggero. She shivered. “What have I done? Oh God.” Her voice sounded broken to her ears.
“Shh. It is all over, Kate. It is all over.” Enrico cradled her close, stroking her hair. He looked at Ruggero over his shoulder. “Go. Now. Call the polizia.”
The gun still kicked in her hands, Vince’s blood still spattered her face, her arms, her chest. Her mind was still consumed by the coldness and determination that had filled her with one purpose—stopping Vince, one way or another.
She looked at his body again, the blood so red, so thick, a dark pool spreading across the carpet. Had she really done it? It seemed a dream, surreal, unreal. She never imagined she was capable of killing. But the way Vince had stared at her without seeing her—he wouldn’t have stopped until she was dead. Until Enrico was dead.
She nestled closer to Enrico, then brought her shaking hands up to wipe her eyes. She jerked back when she saw the blood speckling her hands. Vince’s blood.
Kate stared at the droplets for a few moments. Her tears dried up. She’d made the only logical choice. It was him or them. This was all Vince’s doing, he’d set it all in motion. She was merely the instrument of his destiny.
“Are you okay?” Enrico pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her. Then he worked on untying her hands.
“No. But I think I’m a little better.” She watched him work at the knots.
“This is all my fault, I should have taken extra precautions—”
“The one at fault is Vince.” He finished untying her and she rubbed at her wrists, glad to be free.
“I feel responsible.” He faltered, his voice thick. “I swore I would protect you.”
Something inside her hardened. “Get over it.” Enrico looked startled. She pushed away from him. “You can’t protect me. No one can. I need to face that.” She took a deep breath. “I’m still a dead woman. Now it’s Carlo who’ll want my head.”
“He will need to take mine first.” His eyes were dark with anger.
Kate gestured around them. “How are you going to protect me? What good are all the guards? Someone close to you wants you dead. Who the hell can we trust?”
That was the question, wasn’t it? Enrico shook his head. “I do not know. But I will find out who is responsible.”
“We’re both dead, Enrico. We just don’t know it yet.” He reached for her shoulder and she pushed him away.
He tried again, not allowing her to shake him off. “We will survive this.” He waited a beat, then said, “Vincenzo is dead. Just one more to deal with, yes?”
She shook her head. “Two. Carlo and whoever told Vince how to get in here.”
He had a hard decision to make. He needed someone he could trust, someone in addition to Kate. But who?
Ruggero knocked on the door. “The polizia are on the way,” he shouted.
Kate jumped at the knock. “I need a shower.”
“Wait. The police will want evidence….” He trailed off. Had she been raped? An ache gripped his throat. “From your body,” he finally said.
She hugged herself and tears filled her eyes. “I need a shower.”
His chest tightened. There was no choice. “You must not. You killed him. They will need physical proof of what happened. That he did it. He was your husband, but you are here in my home, in my bed. His actions will need to justify yours.”
“I want my clothes then.” Her voice vibrated with anger.
He gathered them up and offered them to her before he dressed himself. He didn’t know what to say.
The sing-song sirens of approaching emergency vehicles intruded on the silence between them. Within minutes, medics, police officers, and forensic investigators filled the bedroom. The medics checked Vince for vitals and pronounced him dead. Forensic techs took over, taking pictures and samples.
A police officer approached them, asked their names, took an initial statement from Enrico, then told them to wait.
Kate watched the activity around them in a daze, Enrico’s arms wrapped around her, his chest pressed against her back. As she looked at Vince’s lifeless body, her anger abruptly gave way to sorrow. She placed her hands on Enrico’s forearms.
An inspector in the black and red uniform of the carabinieri approached them. “Maresciallo Capo Silvio Fuente,” he introduced himself. At Kate’s look of confusion, he clarified his rank for her in lightly accented English. “Chief Marshal. May we talk elsewhere?” he asked Enrico, though it was clear from his voice that it wasn’t a question.
They went downstairs to the study. Kate and Enrico sat side by side on the sofa and Fuente took one of the chairs, crossing his ankle over his knee. He removed his hat and perched it on his knee.
Enrico picked up the phone and called Maddalena. He asked for espresso for all of them.
Fuente looked at Enrico closely. “So, at last we meet, signore.”
Something passed between Fuente and Enrico, and Kate picked up on it. “Why do you say that?” she asked.
Fuente raised an eyebrow at Enrico. “She doesn’t know?”
“Know what?” Kate asked.
Enrico reached over and squeezed her hand. “Nothing.” He turned to Fuente. “May we have a word in private?”
Fuente gave him a small, tight smile. “Of course.”
They walked outside to the rear terrace. What did Enrico want to say to this man that he wouldn’t say in front of her?
Enrico escorted Fuente out to the moonlit garden. He glanced at Kate through the window. One wrong word from Fuente in front of her…. He turned to the inspector. “You obviously know who I am reputed to be.”
“Reputed? It is a fact.”
Enrico smiled, the
same tight smile Fuente had given him earlier. “But never proved in a court of law.”
“The law has limits; the truth does not.”
Enrico almost liked the man; he didn’t mince words. “The signora does not know who I am alleged to be. For her own safety, I wish to keep it that way.”
Fuente stroked his dark mustache with one finger. “You are friends with Maggiore Alfonso, yes?”
Enrico wanted to smile, but he held it in. Major Alfonso was the station chief in Milan. “I am. Very good friends.”
“I have four children. They all wish to attend private universities, but I have only a carabiniere’s third-rank pay. It’s hard to get a promotion to fourth rank.”
“Practically impossible, as far as I know.”
“Sì. It’s almost unheard of for an inspector to be promoted to a commissioned officer’s rank.”
Enrico held in a smirk. “However, a man like you—a thorough, honest man—should be noticed and rewarded. I’ll speak to Maggiore Alfonso.”
Fuente inclined his head. “I am in your debt.”
“And I am in yours.” Enrico clapped the man on the back. “Do we have an understanding?”
Fuente smiled. “We do.”
When they returned, Kate’s eyes darted between them, questions on her face.
“I apologize for the interruption,” Fuente said to her.
“It’s nothing.” She looked hard at Enrico. “What was that about?”
“My family was involved in a rather notorious case years ago.”
“What happened?”
Time for the truth. Kate couldn’t be frightened any more than she already was. “Carlo Andretti’s men assassinated my mother and my two brothers.”
She stared at him in shock. “You told me they died in an accident.”
“I didn’t want to alarm you. Carlo had intended to kill us all. But my father and I were both stricken with the flu and stayed home that day.”
There was silence for a moment while she absorbed the information. Then Fuente spoke. “What Signor Lucchesi has failed to mention is that the alleged assassins were all found dead some years later.”
Fuck. Enrico glared at Fuente. What kind of game is he playing? “I fail to see what that has to do with me.”
“Their deaths came shortly after your return from England. Right before you married Andretti’s daughter, I believe.”
“Yes. A few days before. But again, I fail to see the connection.”
“You’re right,” Fuente said. “Nothing was ever proved.”
“I was never even questioned. And I resent being accused now.”
“Am I accusing you?” Fuente asked, his voice mild.
Enrico took a deep breath. He’d taken the bait. Stupido.
“I was merely informing your…”—Fuente waved his hand at Kate—“houseguest of my interest in you.”
“Are you finished?” Enrico kept his voice neutral. “We both are exhausted.” To make his point, he took a sip of the steaming espresso Maddalena had brought in.
“My apologies.” Fuente turned to Kate. “Signora Andretti, please tell me what happened here.”
Kate recounted what had occurred and why. Enrico added details when she faltered or forgot them. Fuente nodded, asked questions, and took notes. “We’ll need physical evidence from both of you,” he said as he closed his notebook.
“We know. We haven’t even washed our hands,” Enrico said.
Fuente’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing to hide, yes?”
“I know how important it is to preserve evidence.”
“Of course you do, Signor Lucchesi. Of course you do.”
“Anyone who watches television knows that much.” His voice had more snap to it than he’d intended.
Fuente chuckled. “Touché, Signor Lucchesi.”
Kate looked sidelong at Enrico. Had he murdered the men who’d assassinated his family? She recoiled a bit, but part of her understood. The Old Testament ruled here: an eye for an eye. If Vince had killed her parents… yes, she’d have wanted him dead. But wanting it was one thing, doing it was another. She knew that now, all too well. Even so, the part of her that was appalled, horrified, by what she’d done was already drawing its last breath.
This world certainly wasn’t the one she’d grown up in. The rules were different; here the game had higher stakes than she could have ever imagined. And this was the only life Enrico had ever known. What would that do to a person? What part of him would wither and die, what part would blossom?
And yet—this man hadn’t let all his love and compassion go. She’d seen it in the way he treated the children at the orphanage, in the obvious affection he felt for Antonio, and in how he was with her, loving and gentle.
Enrico was different from her, yes. More ruthless, more practical. Perhaps even more realistic, though she’d accused him of not being so. But he wasn’t so alien that she couldn’t accept him.
Unless he was who Vince said he was.
She couldn’t love a man who killed for gain. That was a line she wouldn’t cross.
“Signora Andretti.” Fuente interrupted her thoughts. He motioned to a female officer standing in the doorway. “Brigadiere Clemente will take you to the hospital for examination.”
“I’d like Enrico to go with me.”
“Of course. We’ll need to take evidence from him as well.”
She got to her feet, grateful for Enrico’s hand at her elbow, for the solidity of his presence beside her. She hated needing him like this, hated feeling weak. But she was so tired.
They walked out to a waiting police car. Enrico helped her inside. “I need a word with Fuente before we leave,” he said, then he closed the door.
Turning to Fuente, Enrico laid a hand on the man’s shoulder and steered him a few steps away from everyone else. “You are a clever man, signore,” Enrico said.
Fuente grinned. “If I were a truly clever man, I would have recorded our conversation.”
“What do you want?”
The smile left his face. “What I asked for. And no more trouble in the district. This is my warning to you.”
Enrico stared at the man. “Understood. But hear me: you would much rather have me as a friend.”
“As would you.” Fuente placed his hat on his head and tipped the brim to Enrico. “This could be self-defense, it could be murder. You were lovers; he was her husband. It could go either way. Don’t forget that.” He smiled at Enrico. “Buona sera, Signor Lucchesi.” He turned and walked away.
Enrico watched him for a moment, then he got in the car. He didn’t want to alarm Kate, but Fuente was trouble. He could feel it in his bones.
CHAPTER 14
At the hospital, Kate refused to be separated from Enrico, insisting they be examined in the same room. Enrico tolerated the doctor’s exam—the x-ray of his head, the photographing and cataloguing of his injuries—without protest. But his stomach churned during Kate’s entire exam. Though she barely reacted when the doctor photographed the marks on her face and when he took samples from under her fingernails, she flinched when he asked if he could inspect the rest of her body. With tears in her eyes, she nodded, and Enrico gritted his teeth as the doctor scrutinized the bite mark on her breast, swabbing it for Vince’s saliva, as he parted her legs and studied the bruising on her inner thighs. But the exam and collection of evidence was necessary to keep her out of prison. For anything less, he would have spared her the intrusion.
The doctor, a balding middle-aged man with a kind face, photographed the bite and the bruises, draping her with a sheet when possible to preserve her modesty. When he finished, he removed his glasses, closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose while asking his next question. “Signora, were you violated?”
Enrico held his breath until she shook her head. “No. It was damn close though.”
The doctor replaced his glasses and smiled, patting her arm. “Are there any other injuries?” When Kate said no, the doctor wrote her a
prescription for Valium, then left them alone.
No matter how careful the doctor had been, how gentle, how respectful, the exam had continued Kate’s violation. Enrico had never felt more helpless. He’d been able to do nothing other than hold her hand and dry her tears with his fingertips. After he helped her dress, she leaned against him for a moment and whispered, “Thank you.” Her gratitude made his eyes burn and his throat ache. He hadn’t kept her safe. He’d broken his promise.
When they returned home, he helped her into a warm bath. Then he turned to go, to give her privacy at last, but she grabbed his wrist, her hand wet and slick on his skin. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. “I’ll stay.” She soaped her arms while he watched. “Do you want help?”
She shook her head, not looking at him. After a moment, she said, “What was going on with you and Fuente?”
A tingle of adrenaline shivered through him. He’d thought she would shut down, but she’d kept her head. It was admirable, and a bit frightening. “Fuente wants help getting a promotion. I am friends with Major Alfonso, who heads the Milan branch.”
“Will you help him?”
“I would be stupid not to.” She studied him with steady eyes. What was she thinking?
“Were you bribing him?”
Enrico raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected the question, but he should have. Kate was far from dumb. “A man can be bribed only if he wants to be.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He smiled. She should have been a prosecutor. “The answer is no.”
“The two of you were keeping something from me.”
Enrico looked at the floor tiles. “Just the details of how my family was killed.”
“Why? Was it really so horrific?”
Enrico fixed her with his stare, his anger hot and sudden. Words poured out of him. “Was it horrific? My mother, my brothers, they were slaughtered like animals. Mario was only eleven. It was his birthday. They shot him over and over as he tried to crawl away.”
Killer Romances Page 14
