Killer Romances
Page 30
Antonio didn’t flinch. He gathered her hair and held it back for her while she heaved until she felt empty and weak. She reached up and flushed the toilet, then sagged down beside it, Antonio letting go of her hair. He stepped over her and filled a glass with cold water and wet a washcloth to wipe her face. He brought the cloth and the glass over to her, crouching down next to her. She took both items gratefully, feeling herself flush with embarrassment. It had seemed like a good plan. Now, she wasn’t so sure. She felt so exhausted, and after his initial uneasiness, Antonio seemed rather calm, not flustered. How was she going to get his phone?
Playing on her weakness seemed like a good ploy. He’d picked her up once, maybe he’d do it again. “I’d like to lie down, but I’m not sure I can walk to the bed….”
He smiled. “Not to worry, signora. I will take you.” He scooped her up again, lifting her easily. While he was carrying her to the bed, she slipped a hand in his exterior jacket pocket, the one she’d seen him put the phone in that morning. Got it, she thought as her fingers closed over it. She shoved the phone under the pillow as he laid her down.
“More water?” he asked.
“No. Mille grazie.” She smiled up at him. “I’d like to sleep now.”
“Molto bene, signora. I will be in my room.”
As soon as he closed the door, Kate rolled over and grabbed the phone. She scrolled through the contacts, searching for Dom’s number. She jotted it down on the hotel notepad on the nightstand, then ripped off the top sheet and stuffed it in the drawer. She’d just dropped the phone on the floor when she heard a tap on the door between their rooms. “Signora?”
She looked down at the phone and swore softly. The display was still lit up. How long would it take for it go dark?
“Signora?” he repeated, easing the door open a crack.
She looked at the phone. Damn it! Still lit up. She reached down to try to flip it over, but it was too far away. “Just a minute!” she said, raising her voice. She kicked off her shoes and hastily unbuttoned her blouse, staring at the phone the whole time. Finally it went black.
“Signora, are you well?”
“Just a second.” She was rebuttoning the blouse when he poked his head in the door. He blushed and quickly withdrew. “What is it?” she asked, letting an edge into her voice.
“My phone. I cannot find it.”
“Well, come in then.” She sat up on the edge of the bed, her bare feet dangling above the phone.
He walked in, not meeting her eyes. “Scusa,” he said. “I must have it. Don Lucchesi will call soon to check on you.”
She felt a surge of warmth, which was quickly dampened by the thought that Enrico could be checking to make sure she hadn’t run off. Even so, she longed for information about him. “How is he?” she asked, while Antonio checked for the phone in the bathroom.
He walked out and immediately spotted the phone on the floor next to the bed. “There,” he said, his face relaxing into a smile. When he bent down to get it, she swung her legs onto the bed and out of his way. He repocketed the phone, then rose and headed for the door as if he hadn’t heard her question.
“Antonio.” He turned toward her, holding the door half open. “Tell me how he is.”
He faltered, looking away from her, then he closed the door and sat in the overstuffed chair next to the window. “Don Lucchesi is…” He groped for the words. “He is…” Antonio sighed and scrubbed a hand through his blond hair, leaving it sticking up in rooster tails. “He is not well,” he finally said.
A little jolt zinged through her. “Does he have an infection? Is he in the hospital?”
He hastily shook his head. “He is not well here,” he said, tapping his chest. “His heart aches for you.”
“Oh.” Kate sat back against the pillows piled in front of the headboard. She crossed her arms over her stomach, imagining she could feel the barest little bump in her abdomen, even though it was far too early. She caressed the spot, feeling lonely all of a sudden. She missed Enrico, missed the way he smiled whenever he saw her, his face lighting up like the sun had just come out. She missed the feel of his arms around her. When she remembered his wild, infectious happiness after she’d accepted his proposal, her throat closed up until it ached. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been so distressed. Like all the joy had gone out of the world. “What does he ask about when he calls?”
Antonio shrugged. “How are you. Are you eating, is the baby well. If I know where you go when you leave.”
She absently corrected him, feeling deflated that Enrico wanted to know her travel plans. “It’s ‘if I know where you will go when you leave.’”
“Grazie.”
“What do you tell him? About where I’m going, I mean.”
He gave her a blank look and a shrug, his arms spreading apart. “Nothing. I do not know.” He looked at her for a second, then he leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. “Signora, he loves you. And the baby too. He is a very good man. I do not understand this”—he waved a hand around in the air, as if searching for the right word—“this separation from him.”
She leaned forward too. “He lied to me. About a lot of things. I cannot trust him.”
“If he lied, it is to protect you.”
Kate shook her head, holding his gaze. “Maybe about some things. But this lie was to protect himself.”
“Signora, there must be a mistake.”
“He killed a judge and his family. A judge who was trying to put him in jail.”
Antonio sat back, his lips compressing together. He crossed his arms. “That is not true.”
“How do you know?”
“I know.”
“Are you sure?”
He paused. “I was not there, signora. But I know him. He is not that kind of man.”
“He’s a Mafioso. He does what he wants.”
He huffed in amusement. “You think every man of honor is a criminal.”
“Aren’t they?”
Antonio uncrossed his arms and leaned toward her again. “Not all crime is bad.”
“Next you’re going to tell me black is white and the sky is red.”
He took a second to process what she said, then he shook his head. “You do not understand me. Some crimes are necessary. For justice.”
“You mean killing in revenge?”
“Yes, that is one. That is a law of God, so it is no crime. Not paying all of the taxes? Also not a crime. The Italian government”—he made a face like he smelled something bad—“is corrupt, greedy, wasteful. Don Lucchesi uses his tax money to build schools, homes for orphans like me, and other worthy causes. The government throws that money in the garbage.”
“That may be true. But it is a crime to kill a judge for doing his job. It’s a crime to kill that man’s innocent family. You cannot tell me any different.”
“I agree, signora. But Don Lucchesi will not kill a judge. He will never kill women and children.”
“You don’t know that.”
He thumped his chest again. “I know in here. That is all that counts.” He waited a beat, then said, “Don Lucchesi believes in the old ways, the old codes of the ’Ndrangheta. He does not sell drugs or women. He does not kill women and children. These things are forbidden.”
Kate looked at him with interest, mulling over what he said. It reminded her of Enrico’s slip about Carlo—“he violated our codes.” But she couldn’t be sure. Enrico could be a clever con artist. Like Vince.
She sighed. “I need to sleep.”
He started for the door, then walked over to the bed instead. He sat on the edge, his blue eyes moving up her body. She was suddenly very aware of him, as she’d been when he’d carried her from the elevator. Her breathing quickened. He clasped his hands together in his lap, staring down at them. “I wish my English was perfect,” he said. Then he looked at her. “I want you, signora. Molto, molto. But I love Don Lucchesi, so I will not touch you. I look, but I will not touch.”
S
he stared up at him, her mouth dry. “What do you mean?”
“If Don Lucchesi was a bad man, I will not work for him. And I will do what I want.” His eyes roamed the length of her body, but his hands stayed clasped together. Then he looked up at her, holding her eyes with his.
“I understand. Your English is good enough. But I do not agree with your opinion of him.”
He frowned and stood up. He hesitated, then said, “Signora, you must go back to Don Lucchesi. If you do not, Don Andretti is waiting.”
Antonio must have seen her shudder, for he said, “I am sorry. I do not mean to scare you, but if I must, I will. Signora, per favore. Consider what I say. È molto importante.”
“I will,” she said, and meant it. She couldn’t afford to forget about Carlo. But that didn’t mean she was going to risk her baby’s life on what she hoped and wanted to be true about Enrico. That Antonio shared her delusion didn’t comfort her. The boy in Antonio longed for a father, and he thought he’d found one.
She hoped for his sake that Enrico was the right choice. But she couldn’t take that risk herself. Not with the baby along for the ride. No, she had to be much more steely-eyed.
She waited for him to close the door, then she picked up her phone. Time to call Dom. Her stomach rolled over. Time to find out if she was on her own.
CHAPTER 28
Enrico paced his study again, certain he was wearing a hole in the Aubusson carpet. He hated this waiting. Waiting for the traitor to be caught. Waiting for Carlo to make a move. Waiting for Kate to leave.
Waiting for his world to crumble.
He threw himself into the chair, then leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk and loosely clasping his hands in front of his face. He pressed his lips against his hands, stifling the urge to cry out, to let loose his misery at losing Kate. At losing everything. He didn’t see how he could stand it if she didn’t come back to him. If something happened to her or the child. If he lost her for good.
Losing Toni had been a horrible blow. He couldn’t bear another one, ever. Certainly not this soon.
His chest felt empty, hollow, again. Dead inside. He passed a hand over his aching left side, feeling the bandage that still protected the stitches. He’d taken a bullet for Kate, and he’d do it again. He’d do whatever it took to have her back, to keep her safe. To get her to love him again.
He closed his eyes, tears welling up, his throat aching. He sagged in the chair, feeling like he’d lost every ounce of strength he’d ever possessed. He was drained, done, over with. He couldn’t go on without her. He just could not.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes, willing himself not to cry. He hadn’t given vent to his anguish over Kate. He couldn’t allow himself to. Not even when Antonio reported her tears to him. If he let himself go, if he loosened the bonds holding him together, he might never stop weeping.
He had to keep going. He had to find the traitor and destroy him. He had to save the cosca. And he had to face Carlo Andretti tonight, before all of La Provincia.
He had to do these things for all the people depending on him. For all the people who looked to him for protection from Carlo.
So he held on to a glimmer of hope. But that glimmer grew fainter every day she didn’t call, every day she didn’t return to his home.
He should go see her, should plead his case. He wondered how she’d receive him. Butterflies in his stomach, he picked up the phone. Antonio could tell him how she was, whether she might see him.
Antonio picked up on the second ring. “Tonio, how is she?” He noticed a slight hesitation on Antonio’s part, and his pulse quickened.
“She vomited from the baby.”
“But she’s all right?”
“Sì.”
He relaxed. He waited a second, then said, “I’m thinking of coming to see her.”
Antonio hesitated again. “I spoke to her about you today.”
“What did she say?”
Antonio let out a breath. “She thinks you killed the judge and his family.”
Merda. Enrico felt queasy. “Did you tell her I didn’t?”
“Of course. I told her you believe in the old codes. I think maybe she believed that.”
“So there’s some hope?”
Again, Antonio hesitated. “Sì, some.”
It wasn’t much, but he had to try. “I’ll be there in an hour.”
Enrico showered and shaved. He hadn’t taken much care with his appearance since Kate had left. He took care with his clothes as well, choosing a dark blue suit he knew she liked, deliberately playing the peacock: diamond tie pin, platinum cufflinks, the signet ring with the Lucchesi crest, his best watch.
He looked at himself in the mirror. To the unobservant, he might be the same man he’d been before. But to anyone who looked closely, the wear of the days without her showed in the circles under his eyes, in the hollowness of his stare. He took a deep breath, willing himself to have hope.
A Lucchesi always got what he wanted. Enrico wasn’t about to be the exception.
Dom heard his mobile phone ring. He looked at the display, but since he didn’t recognize the number, he let it go to voice mail. Then Dom picked up another phone, one he was certain wasn’t tapped, and used it to check the mobile’s voice mail. He listened to the message, unable to believe his good fortune. He scribbled down the number the caller left, then dialed it. When she answered, he said, “Ciao, Kate. It’s Domenico. Where are you calling from? This isn’t Enrico’s number.”
“He hasn’t told you?”
“Told me what?”
“I’ve left him.”
Most interesting. And alarming. Enrico should have told him. “Why?”
“He’s lied to me too many times. He’s done things I can’t condone.”
“What has upset you so much?”
“He killed a judge and his family. As I’m sure you know.”
So Carlo’s plan was in motion. “There is more to it than you know.”
“I don’t care about the details. He’s guilty. You should have seen his face when Fuente told him they’d found the missing murder weapon.” She paused. “And I’m sure I know how it ended up missing in the first place.”
“Sometimes unfortunate choices have to be made in this business.”
“Murdering innocent people isn’t an unfortunate choice.”
“Why have you called me?”
He heard her take a deep breath. “I have to leave the country. I need a fake passport, a fake American social security number, and transportation to the nearest train station.”
“Enrico would gladly help you with that.”
“I don’t want him to know where I’ll be.”
“So it is final then?” he asked.
He heard a new firmness in her voice. “Yes.”
“Why do you think I won’t tell him where you are?”
“Because you don’t want us together.”
Dom held his breath for a second, debating. “That is true.”
“I just want to disappear. After I’m safely away, I’ll tell Enrico I’ve lost the baby. Then he’ll marry Delfina Andretti, and everything can go back to the way it was supposed to be. I know how to keep my mouth shut, and I don’t know anything of substance anyways. However, I’m not stupid; I know you’re not supposed to let me go. So I have an incentive for you to help me.”
“Which is?”
“I ran across something interesting while transcribing records at the orphanage. I know about the adoption you arranged. And I know the mother’s name. I’ve written letters to several people that will be delivered if something happens to me. I’m sure you don’t want this information to get out.”
Dom clamped his jaw shut to keep from shouting and took a deep breath through his nose. Fucking nosy bitch. She was willing to ruin his family. And that couldn’t happen. He didn’t speak until he felt he could keep his voice even. “I would prefer that matter to remain private, as I was promised.”
; “Desperate times….” Her voice trailed off. “Do we have a deal?”
He smiled, then straightened his face to keep it out of his voice. She wouldn’t like the reason he was smiling. “We do.”
He could practically hear Kate sigh in relief. “So what happens next?”
“I need to make arrangements. Call me at this number in two days.”
They said their goodbyes, then he snapped the phone shut.
This was an unexpected and welcome opportunity. He had something Carlo wanted very much. Despite the complications—which he was sure he could deal with—his heart filled with glee. Carlo wouldn’t get Kate cheap. Far from it.
The cost of having her would be Andretti’s downfall.
The guards seemed startled to see Enrico outside the suite. Tommaso knocked on the door, and Antonio opened it a moment later and gestured him inside. Enrico glanced at the closed door that joined the rooms. “Is she still resting?”
“I assume so. She’s been quiet.”
He walked to the door and raised his hand to knock. He’d almost turned and said “May I?” to Antonio, but caught himself. Antonio had no claim to her. Enrico did. And he was going to exercise it. He tapped at the door, then heard her saying come in, the sound thrilling through him, like a shiver. How he’d missed the music of her voice.
He eased the door open, slipping inside. Kate lay on her back, propped up on some pillows, her eyes closed. They opened as he shut the door and approached. He studied her, looking for some clue to her feelings. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. A flush came into her cheeks. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone edged with steel.
He stopped where he was. “Antonio said you were ill.”
She waved her hand in the air. “It’s nothing. Some morning sickness. I made the mistake of having anchovies on my salad.”
Enrico smiled. What had she been thinking? “I thought you hated them.”
“I do. But I was craving the salt.” She reddened.
“You could have put salt on the salad.”
She looked up at him. “I know. I thought maybe some extra protein….” She trailed off. “Why are we talking about this?”