“Intriguing,” He raised an amused brow and took a step forward. His muscled, long legs easily closed the gap with one stride. He stood about six-five, a cool foot taller than her frame.
A layer of desire spread between them. Snippets of their night together flashed into her mind. Her heart raced. An audible gulp escaped her throat, the lens of her camera kept as a barrier. “So you’ll agree to an annulment?”
Before she got an answer, a crude division of white light separated their bodies. Still barking orders to the men outside, Steve entered the area. When the flap shut behind him, eyes surveyed their stance.
“Tomasello,” he said, his voice an even keel while he kept his eyes on Dante, “I got the boys bringing out the cherry picker. I’m gonna need you to get up in the bucket and take some aerial shots down the street. Robert thinks there are pieces of the body down the road.”
Harley offered a smile for goodbye, grateful for the escape. Any longer and she would have given in to her desires. The sooner she got this stupid marriage annulled, the better.
Chapter 2
Glad to be done with the job for the day, Harley relaxed in a hot bath. The back muscle of her thigh ached from being stretched over his shoulders. Never had she had a better workout, she thought with a sly smile.
When the water grew tepid, she stepped one wet foot out of her clawfoot tub onto the plush white throw rug, then another. The white body towel drank the moisture off her skin. She patted every inch of her skin, partly drying, partly wiping the imaginary fingerprints Dante Rossi left on her body.
This impulsive marriage needed to end. They had nothing in common except for their employment with the law. She left the scene this morning not knowing what branch he worked for, not that it mattered. Now, since Dante worked with the FBI, the sooner she dissolved this marriage, the better. She’d been in the system for fifteen years without having her cover blown and she wasn’t about to start now with some gumshoe agent. Dante Rossi and this stupid marriage was the last thing she wanted anyone to find out about. Lundy already grilled her ass, fearing she sided up with Dante about the crime scene being a homicide, which now she could not deny.
What did the FBI want with Christopher Alfaro? Had he gotten a whiff of her inquiries? Her heart slammed against her ribcage for being so dense. Harley cupped her face with her towel. Whatever Dante’s intentions were for getting close to her, she had her lead. She had a way into the community and closer to Alfaro. Like most gangsters, nothing happened in their neighborhoods without them finding out or knowing. Harley shuddered at the thought of Alfaro’s involvement.
The case assigned to them both also needed to end. In Harley’s line of work she’d seen evil. Evil came in all shapes and sizes. The worst kinds dealt with kid killers. The kid on the sidewalk had barely lived his life. As soon as she’d returned to her apartment she tore upstairs to find Hannah. Her niece’s room hadn’t been slept in. She didn’t expect to find her. Since Hannah had been staying with her, Harley’s skills as the cool aunt were tested. She hated to have to pull the adult card, but she had to and left a stern message on Hannah’s cell phone for her to come home immediately.
Harley hated having to play the adult card, but her brother Anthony left her in charge. She enjoyed being the cool aunt. Their older sister Jennifer packed up her kids to spend time in town at Anthony’s home in order to keep an eye on Hannah. Harley loved her older sister dearly, from a distance. Jennifer had the tendency to be overbearing and rule with an iron fist and for those reasons, Harley welcomed Hannah into her home. Hell, the graduate had her own room since forever.
The mirror before her squeaked clean when she wiped the glass. The glimmer of the ring resting in the soap-dish attached to the wall caught her attention. Why did she still have the gold band? And how does one go to the courthouse and draw up an annulment? She couldn’t let Hannah find out about her recklessness. Why did she do these things to herself?
A thump upstairs interrupted her self-reflection. Harley reached for her white robe hanging on the back of her door and scooped the ring out of the dish, sliding the gold circle into the pocket. Damn, she’d left her purse on the kitchen island when she came home, leaving behind her gun and her cell phone.
Before wandering barefoot down the hallway downstairs, she grabbed her bedroom backup Sig Sauer from her underwear drawer and followed the noise into the kitchen at the front of the house. The condo had three bedrooms, two upstairs and one down. Harley took the downstairs bedroom and thanked herself every time she came home from a mission and did not have to climb the stairs.
The sounds came from the kitchen right where she left her purse on the island bar. Not too many robbers set their dishes in the sink. Barefoot, and step-by-step she made her way to the arched doorway and pressed her back against the wall, gun ready. The ends of her dark hair swung droplets of water when she peeked around the corner. At the sink she found the pretty eighteen-year-old brunette setting a few coffee mugs in the cabinet.
“You realize you almost got shot,” Harley said clutching the opening of her robe at her throat. Her mind tried to register the timing of the thump and how Hannah got down here so fast. She slipped her weapon into the front pocket of her robe. The muzzle clinked against the ring. Upon hearing the soft clink, Hannah raised a well-groomed eyebrow. Everyone always commented on how the two could pass for twins but Harley played it off all the time. Hannah was tall and lean with black silky hair that always bounced with every head movement. Her height made her never have to worry about weight gain and despite the altitude, she wore four inch heels whenever she had the chance. Harley cleared her throat with authority. “Young lady, where have you been?”
“Didn’t you bother looking at the text I sent you?”
A text did buzz across the cell phone a half hour after saying ‘I Do’ to Dante. A man with kissing skills deserved her undivided attention. Harley shook her head and wondered where her phone was anyway. Oh yeah, in her purse. She’d stuck her phone in the side pocket of her purse while she slipped her work clothes on in her car. “I was, um, busy.”
Irritated, Hannah sighed, “What if I was lying dead in some ditch?”
The thought of this morning’s crime scene replayed in her mind. Harley reached for the handle of her refrigerator door. Hannah decorated the door with old pictures from when she was a child, stick figure drawings of a white picket fence with the two of them standing outside on the green lawn. The cold air from inside the fridge sent a shiver of cold against Harley’s chest.
“This is your place too, you can come and go around here when you please, but seriously,” Harley reached on the top shelf for two bottles of water then she closed the door with her hip and faced her niece. “Just please, tell me when you get in at night in case I’m out on a call like last night.”
“You were on a call,” Hannah folded her arms across her chest and raised her left eyebrow. “I got in at three. You weren’t home.”
“On a call,” Harley sung with sarcasm.
“At three in the morning?” The girl somehow turned the interrogation on her.
Harley shook her head and matched her niece’s stance, resting her hip on the opposite side of the counter. “This is not about me.”
“And where were you?”
She tossed one of the bottles and a mischievous smile at her niece. The temperature of her body began to spike with the mere thought of Dante Rossi. “Hey, I’m the adult here. You don’t have to question my actions.”
“Well, I do if you’re supposed to be taking care of me,” Hannah grinned, and then stood behind the barstool on the other side of the island. A set of four keys on a red and white tasseled key chain sat next to a pink box of what Harley guessed were pastries, sat in the center of the island. One key was for Harley’s, one for front and back door of her dad’s house, and the last key went to the vacation home in Villa San Juan—just in case they got around to it for the weekend.
With this new break close to Alfaro’s
territory, Harley didn’t anticipate any vacation time in her near future. Finally, a legitimate reason to not set foot in Villa San Juan. She’d dealt with the little angel and devil on her shoulders long enough with excuse after excuse putting off a vacation to her parent’s beach house. The last place she ever wanted to step foot in was Villa San Juan. The northwestern hidden gem of an island was a painful memory.
On the bright side of not having to go, the pastry box on the counter gave a little bit of pleasure even if she knew they would do nothing for helping her squeeze into a bathing suit either. Dante Rossi didn’t seem to mind her curves, her inner voice whispered.
“You’re glowing,” Hannah bluntly stated.
“It is a hundred-degrees out.” Harley nodded her head toward window over the sink where the sun’s blinding light spilled through.
“So you took a hot shower? Nope,” Hannah’s hand rested on the plastic white cap of her bottled water, ready to turn, and tilted her head to the side. “I think you got lucky last night.”
First Lundy. Now Hannah. Harley’s sister Jennifer found Hannah and Harley’s relationship highly inappropriate. Of course Jenny would. Harley was convinced her older sister was born with a stick up her ass.
“I’m going to tell your mother what you just said.”
“Tattletale,” Hannah said grinning and sticking out her tongue at the same time. “What happened last night or better yet, who did it happen with?”
“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”
“What lady? You?” Hannah snorted and shook her dark curly head. “Who took me at sixteen to get on birth control.”
As a former wild child, Harley recognized the signs in Hannah: staying out late, turtleneck sweaters in Florida, and skimpier outfits. Harley shrugged her shoulders, not the least bit sorry for taking such precautions. “Because I didn’t believe for one minute you fell asleep at that boy’s house while studying! Your dad may have, but not me.”
At least Hannah had the decency to blush and glance away briefly. “So, who’s the lucky guy you met?”
“An FBI agent, actually,” the words sounded funny coming out of her mouth. FBI agents were pleasant to be around if you went into their HQ to have a talk with them at their desks. She didn’t know many who participated in her kind of fieldwork. She made a mental note to call her supervisor, Makana Leonard, to find out more about him and his job. Makana, burned once or twice by men in the past, would understand Harley’s need to know.
Hannah’s dark eyes widened with intrigue. Her elbows resting on the countertop indicated she wanted to hear more about this mystery man. “And?”
“He’s here on assignment.”
“Which means he’s perfect for you.”
Without even meeting him, Hannah already decided he was perfect for her aunt? Harley raised an eyebrow and waited for an explanation.
“If he’s here on assignment,” Hannah explained, “he’s only here temporary, your ideal guy?”
“No,” Harley lied. Typically this was her perfect guy. Long relationships did not work for her. This gig with the police department wouldn’t last long. Eventually the Special Tasks Bureau will call and send her on another assignment. Men around town wanted a relationship, and those just weren’t her thing. Maybe a lifetime ago, but her career consumed her. Besides the length of being gone, Harley often found out too late she had nothing in common with the men she came across. Men did not understand her affection for weapons and were easily intimidated by a woman with the power to take them down in the blink of an eye. A nagging voice sang into the back of her mind, Dante might be different, at least so far he was. He worked for the FBI. He might understand the long hours.
“Maybe,” Harley shrugged, irritated with herself allowing her interactions with Dante last night and tonight to interfere with her set ways.
“Well, tell me if he’s the one you’re bringing as your plus-one to the wedding.”
Harley doubted this setback would last long. A date as her plus one to the wedding would cause far more questions. Everyone would ask a thousand questions, mainly her mother. Where did they meet? How long had they been dating? What were their future plans? And besides, there hadn’t even been a second date to start thinking about a wedding date. Did last night even count as a first date?
The mere mention of the wedding made Harley frown. It was too soon for Hannah to get married. What did she possibly know about love and hard life decisions? Harley tilted her water back to keep from responding with anything too negative. What were the odds that two eighteen-year-olds could make a marriage work? She sure as hell couldn’t.
“Speaking of this wedding of yours, have you heard much from your parents?”
Hannah’s shoulders slumped and her dark bouncy hair shook from side to side. When Hannah appeared after graduation with a small engagement ring on her left finger from a man no one had met yet, no one was pleased. Harley tried to keep it together.
“They don’t approve,” Hannah tilted her head to the side and gave a grin, “I think it’s because he’s Mexican.”
The water Harley sipped just about choked the back of her throat with laughter at her niece’s comment. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“No it’s not.”
“Hannah, you’re half Puerto Rican. Your grandmother is from Puerto Rico. Your grandparents live in San Juan.”
“Being Puerto Rican and being Mexican are two different things,” Hannah explained simply. “People around here think of Mexicans differently.”
Harley thought of Steve Lundy’s constant ignorant comments. To Steve, anyone who spoke Spanish came from Mexican ancestry. No matter how many times Harley pulled out her Italian-card by bringing in homemade sauce and meatballs, he still thought of her as a Mexican. He also thought today was gang related without even knowing the whole story. He was more pissed off for having to drive out there so early in the morning. But Harley doubted race to be the reason her brother did not like Javier.
“You’re so wrong.”
A thump upstairs distracted Harley. Both of the ladies eyes glanced at the ceiling. Their eyes slowly met each other. Harley raised her left eyebrow. She reached into the pocket of her robe and brandished her pistol. “Something you want to tell me?”
Hannah held her hands in the air, her brown eyes widened with fear, rimming with the threat of tears. “Wait!”
“Who is upstairs, Hannah?”
Harley’s heart sank with disappointment with the idea of Hannah lying to her. “Hannah.”
“Okay fine, Javier is up there.”
“What?” Now, for a split second Harley’s guilt tried to make its way through her veins. Wasn’t she the one who took Hannah to get on the pill? Had her actions caused Hannah to think it was okay to sneak a boy into the house? “Why is he here? Are the two of you? In my house?”
“No. It’s not what you think,” Hannah wailed as her golden brown face reddened. “I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was sneaking him in the house. He and his brother got into some trouble last night.”
Harley held her hand in the air to stop her, “I thought you two were together last night.”
“Javier dropped me off and then went to take his brother home and something happened.”
“What something?”
“Mmm,” Hannah shrugged her shoulders up and down, “He won’t talk about it but he’s freaking out upstairs. He couldn’t stop crying so I gave him some of your anxiety pills to help him calm down.”
Harley’s eyes darted toward the ceiling. The heat of embarrassment crept over her cheeks. The last thing she wanted to do was come off as weak. On rare occasions she’d get panic attacks, typically, like every woman over thirty with no marital prospects. A comforting stroke on her back from her mother would have sufficed, but Harley didn’t have that, so she learned to harden her heart and kept telling herself she preferred to live her life stress free these days with as less involvement from committed relationships as possible
.
The pills worked once for her. They knocked her ass out and she slept for two days straight. After the sleeping beauty incident, she never took another pill. Her job depended on her being alert.
“Did he give any indication of what happened?” Harley asked, her mind flashing to the unidentified body this morning. Harley liked to trust her gut and right now her gut told her to listen.
“No. And he’s been trying to call him but there was no answer.”
Despite their engagement, Harley never met Javier’s family. She only just learned they attended the same school. “Where did you guys go last night?”
Hannah blurted out quickly everything she did since leaving the family yesterday afternoon. They’d gone out to dinner, went to a club, hung out in the parking lot, and then Javier brought her home. “Didn’t you look at the picture I sent you?”
“No,” she tugged the purse from Hannah’s hands and reached inside. She still had three unopened text messages. The attempt to download this morning failed, probably due to the incoming phone call. She clicked on the envelope icon and waited for it to download, again.
“We didn’t do anything wrong, you know me.”
“I know you,” Harley clarified, “not him or his family. Where does he live?”
“Out by Three Points in Little Mexico.”
Harley’s special agent spidey senses went on full alert. The tingling sensation in her gut kept her alive in many situations, not to mention solved a lot of mysteries. A kid dead and disfigured in Little Mexico plus Javier not being able to reach his brother mixed in with teenager trouble in the middle of the night equaled a scenario for anxiety. A sinking teetering at the top of a roller coaster feeling washed over her. “I need to meet Javier.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” The deep masculine voice echoed through the kitchen.
Hannah jumped.
Harley extended her right hand with the 9mm attached at the end toward the arched doorway. Dante Rossi came around the corner, arms raised in surrender. “What the hell are you doing here?” Harley growled out loud.
Mr. and Mrs. Rossi Page 3
