I ran back to the bed and picked up the phone. I called my cousin Paulo, the lawyer. He was a smart guy. He’d be in the know.
“What’s the deal with Sammy and the rocks? How serious is this?” I asked.
Paulo sighed. “Don’t involve me in this, okay? I got too much involvement already.”
“Fine by me.” I hung up. Paulo always was a wiener. I don’t know why I bothered to call him.
I moved to the walk-in closet and started whipping out clothes. Sapphire-blue skirt and matching jacket with cute little tie belt in front. He’s got too much involvement. I’ve had involvement up the ying-yang for years and years. Where was that white tank top? Involvement was the whole reason I got out of this burg in the first place. Who needs family like mine?
Twenty minutes in the bathroom got me put together and presentable. All I had to do was get out of the condo—
The phone rang again. I let it go to the answering machine.
“Gina? It’s your auntie. Sammy just told me.”
Oh frig. It was Aunt Miriam—Sammy’s wife. They brought in the big guns. I picked up the phone.
“It’s just a little trip, maideleh—can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want to do a teeny-weeny thing like that as a favor to your dear uncle who loves you so—”
I missed the rest because the door was being pounded out of the wall.
“Hold on,” I said into the phone.
I marched to the door and peered through the peephole.
Angelo stood there with two coffees and chagrin on his face.
I whooshed the door open.
“They sent you too?”
He nodded. “I’m supposed to say ‘please.’ And Luca’s on his way over with cannoli.”
Aunt Miriam was still squawking into the phone. Before I could put it to my ear, the cell phone in my purse starting singing “Shut Up and Drive.”
“That’s probably Uncle Vito,” Angelo said.
“For Christ’s sake! It’s the full onslaught from all sides.” I threw up my arms. “You know what that means. This could go on for days.”
He shrugged. “Can you sort of speed things up a bit and say yes? I’ve got a lot going on right now.”
I whammed the door all the way open. It bounced off the back wall. “Might as well come in. One of those better have cream in it.”
I put the phone to my ear again.
“Aunt Miriam?”
“Gone to the can. She handed it back to me.”
“Sammy?” I sighed. “How desperate is he?”
“It’s the border crossing. Doesn’t trust anyone else to get through it without messing up. Think of it this way. The rocks don’t belong here. You’re taking them back to where they kinda legally belong.”
Yeah, right. As if the city of Buffalo were the rightful owner. I looked down at the floor. It didn’t look back.
“Just this once, right? And you owe me!”
“Of course, doll. You call the shots.”
Yeah, and I’m Pamela Anderson’s twin sister.
“All right. You want me to meet up with this Joey, right? The little skirt-chaser.”
“Not so little,” Sammy said. “Joey is over three hundred. Used to play football for the Ti-Cats.”
“Oh, that Joey!” Missing a few brain cells after all those concussions, poor boy. “I’ve met him. Aunt Vera tried to set me up with him once.”
He laughed. “Joey with the precious goddaughter? Bet that went down great with Vinnie.”
“Like shoes on a goat.”
I hung up, took the coffee from Angelo and started looking for my passport.
CHAPTER FIVE
My car is pretty nondescript. I’d love a hot little convertible like Pete’s, but when you carry a lot of—shall we say expensive—merchandise, as a rule you opt for safe and staid. Doesn’t tempt the joyriders.
I stopped for gas at my cousin Guytano’s station. Some high-school kid was working the pumps, so I didn’t stick around to say hi. Then I hit Main to stop at a bank machine. I saw an empty parking space across the street and made for it. Main is one way, and it is much easier to dash a block down to King than to turn left, and then left again, trying to find a space. Hard to explain, but if you live in a city of one-way streets, you’ll get it.
I grabbed my handbag-cum-suitcase and bolted through the traffic.
Only one person in front of me at the ATM—I was in luck.
Two minutes later, I turned away from the bank machine and bashed right into Pete Malone.
“Jeez, you scared me,” I said, trying to catch my breath.
“I’m not so scary,” Pete quipped. One hand reached out to steady me. A spark shot through me at his touch.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt out. Was he following me? Normally, I wouldn’t mind, but this was damned inconvenient at the moment.
“I was getting coffee next door. Saw you rush up.” He looked amused.
“Oh. Well, nice to see you. Pete, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m in a big hurry. Call me, okay?” I turned abruptly, nearly tripping on the cracked pavement.
Pete was right beside me as I hoofed it, or tried to hoof it, back to my car. These shoes were four inches of stacked-heel torture.
“Wait a minute! We’re having dinner tonight, remember?”
I stopped and turned. “Oh crap, Pete! I am so sorry. Of course we are. It’s not that I forgot—it’s just—”
BAM!
“What the hell was that?”
The whole ground seem to shake for a moment, and then someone screamed.
Pete grabbed my arm. Sirens blasted all over the place. Police cars came screeching—all of them, I swear—the entire Steeltown contingent. They careened up the street and slammed to a stop in front of the bank across the street.
“Run!” I yelled. What can I say? It’s instinctive.
Pete just held me tighter.
“The big bad policemen won’t get you. Promise.”
We stood across the street and watched the action at the other bank. Car doors slammed, and there was a lot of yelling. I tried to keep out of sight and peered out from behind Pete’s shoulder. Man, he smelled good—like bread just out of the oven. Yum.
“Looks like a robbery.”
“Yup,” I said, watching more cops pile out and pull guns.
“Anyone you know?” Pete asked innocently.
I would have whacked him, but he had my arms pinned.
“Got to be first-timers, blowing a safe like that. No one blows up safes anymore.”
Pete raised an eyebrow.
“The trick is to get in and out fast,” I said in disgust. “You can’t blow up things and do that.”
We stared at the lockdown from the alley between two buildings across the street.
“Well, that’s just perfect,” I muttered. “What the hell am I going to do now?”
“Explain?”
“My car’s over there, behind the wall of cops.” Think hard, Gina. Okay, I had everything I needed. Passport in pocket. I was wearing my new shoes with the custom compartments. I had a pair of ballerina flats in my handbag to change into after the drop. So I had everything to make the Buffalo contact, except the vehicle to get me there.
I could rent a car, maybe. Or I could take a plane. Probably quicker to drive, but a rental car might be trouble at the border. Okay, it’s a plane and then a taxi from the airport.
“Pete, can you drive me to the airport?”
He frowned and released me. “Where the hell were you going today?”
Oh right. I was supposed to meet him for dinner tonight. Backpedal.
“Just to Buffalo. I was going to drive and be back in time for dinner, but I don’t want to bother renting a car. Important meeting,” I said. I even nodded. That should make it look authentic.
“Ah.” Pete looked relieved. “We can go together. We’ll take my car.”
Crap.
“Oh now, I couldn’t.” It was true. I could
n’t. I also couldn’t tell him why I couldn’t.
“Nonsense, no trouble at all. It’s only an hour away. I’ve got my Nexus card on me. I can stop at WBEN Radio while we’re there. We can even have dinner over the border. I know this little place in Amherst.”
I fiddled with the handles of my handbag. “Don’t you have to go to work?”
He laughed. “It’s Friday. They owe me about a month of overtime. Besides, I’m working on a story about cross-border rivalries between football teams and can talk to the guys at WBEN about it. I’ll drop you off where you have to be and then come back and pick you up. Then we do dinner.”
This could work, I thought. Maybe it would even be a good cover.
“Where do you need to go?”
“The Walden Galleria shopping center.” I said it without thinking.
He looked straight at me. “For a business meeting?”
I gulped again. “They have offices above the stores.” Didn’t they?
He tilted his head and shrugged. “Let’s go, then. I’m parked over here.”
CHAPTER SIX
Buffalo used to be a booming dynamic city in the 1800s. You can still see vestiges of the grand old gal as you drive through areas such as Amherst. But for me, the glory of Buffalo will always be the Martin House, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in his early days. It’s under reconstruction now, or I would have insisted on Pete taking a detour.
Hamilton is only an hour from Buffalo, but you need a passport or Nexus card to get into the United States from Canada now. In the old days, we used to hop across the border for dinner on the other side with a mere flip of a driver’s license. Usually, customs officials didn’t even ask to see it. Most of the time, they’d ask us what the specials were tonight at John’s Flaming Hearth, and maybe join us at the bar after they got off shift.
The world was different now. I was expecting the worst, but going through customs was just one more surprise in a day of surprises. Pete drove up to one of the many kiosks at the Peace Bridge. The middle-aged redhead in the booth beamed a toothy smile.
“Hi, Pete,” she said. “Staying for a while this time?”
Pete—the dirty dog—smiled back. “Nah, just a day trip. Taking the lady shopping at the Galleria.”
Her smile changed to a frown. Reddy-locks peered in at me. “Where you from, Miss?”
“Hamilton,” I replied, in my sunniest voice. “Born and bred.”
“Passport.”
I handed it to Pete, who duly presented it.
Back it came through the open window.
“Nice to see you, Marcie.” Pete can be a charmer.
The smile was back on her face. “Have a nice time there.”
I waited until we were clear of the exit before starting the interrogation.
“Who’s the dye job?” I asked in my most nonchalant manner.
Pete glanced over. “Jealous?”
“No, I like my hair.” Sometimes you gotta be obtuse.
Pete laughed. “I cross the border every other week. You get to know the people with the power.”
I cocked my head. “Care to elaborate?”
“I was born here,” Pete said simply. “My folks live here.”
Well, that explains the Nexus card.
“They have a house in Amherst. Kind of old.”
Figures.
“They also have a place in Florida.”
Better.
We were on some highway now. At this speed, it was hard to hear. I kept my questions for later.
* * *
Half an hour later, I was sitting on a bench in the Galleria, massaging my right foot. I deliberately avoided the Macy’s end so I wouldn’t run into my drop contact ahead of time. Why? Pete had insisted on coming into the mall so we could agree on a spot to meet later. I had insisted on finding a bench so I could sit down and take off my shoes. They were killing me.
“Nice place,” Pete said, gazing down the length of gilded stores. “Used to be classier, and a whole lot busier. Place is a morgue now during the day.”
I looked up. “You know this mall?”
“I grew up not far from here,” Pete said.
“So you know the people at WBEN.”
Pete smiled. I felt my heart teeter.
“Did an internship there when I was in high school. You know, the work experience thing. Made a lot of great friends and contacts. Then they followed me when I was in the pros. Local boy makes good. Until I didn’t.” Pete looked off in the distance, thinking about those days, no doubt. I didn’t want him to feel sad, so I rushed to speak.
“I’ll bet you took a lot of girlfriends here.” Why did I say that? Of all the stupid things…
Pete looked up in surprise. Then he raised an eyebrow. “Only one. I went with one girl all through school. I’m the monogamous sort.”
I felt my face go red. What can you say to top that?
“So I’ll meet you back here at five.”
“Right,” I said, looking up and away. “Opposite the lingerie store there.” I shifted over on the bench to make room for a large-breasted blond woman. She smiled her thanks.
Pete wandered up to the window with his hands in his pockets. “Come look at this.” He nodded to the strappy satin nightgown in the window. “You like that sort of thing?”
I grabbed the pair of flats from my handbag-cum-suitcase and put them on. Then I rushed to join him at the window.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. Just looking at it made my heart sing.
“You’d look good in pink. Although you look pretty good in that blue suit too,” said Pete.
I felt a charge hit me clear through the chest. Damn, but he looked good from the side. Something about the casual way he stood with his hand in his pocket, the way his hair fell over his eyes, which were fixed on the mannequin…
I shook myself. “That’s fuchsia. Guys never know colors.”
“Red, blue, yellow and green. And orange. That’s all I need to know.”
“What about purple?”
“And purple.”
“What about brown, gray and beige? Chartreuse? Puce?”
“Never heard of it. You’re making that up, right?”
Men. I shook my head and turned back to the bench. The blond woman was gone. And so were my…
“Bloody hell!” I yelled. I dashed around the back of the bench. Nothing.
“What is it?” Pete was baffled.
“My shoes! My shoes are gone!”
I was scrambling now, knees on the floor, looking under everything in sight.
“When did you last see them?”
“I left them on the floor right here. Then you called me over to look at the window, and then”—I was starting to wail—“they aren’t here!”
I stood up and scanned both right and then left. No sign of the blond woman. Where could she have gone in that time?
Maybe she dashed into a store? A change room? If I tried to search every change room in the place, someone would call security for sure…
“Ah.” His voice relaxed. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll buy you another pair. I bet they have some really nice ones in—”
He stopped when he saw my face.
“It’s not just the shoes, is it?”
I hesitated, then shook my head.
“Was something in the shoes?” His voice was tense.
I gulped.
His hand went to his forehead and brushed back hair nervously. “Don’t tell me it’s drugs,” he hissed. “Don’t tell me I just smuggled drugs over the border.”
I shook my head. “Not drugs.”
He let out a sigh. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Not so much.” It was hard to breathe. I flopped down on the bench.
“You going to tell me?”
I thought for maybe two seconds, then shook my head.
“Mind if I guess?”
I thought for maybe three seconds, then shook my head.
“
Does it have anything to do with the business you’re in?”
I didn’t move.
“And maybe that store over there, the one with the flashy things in the window that people might buy for engagement gifts?”
I looked up at him.
“Okay.” He plunked down on the bench beside me. “What do we do first?”
I think that’s when I started to fall in love with Pete Malone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
We found the women’s washroom. Luckily, it was empty. I took out my cell phone, punched numbers and waited for the “Hullo.”
“Sammy, I lost the shoes.” Have you ever tried to yell without raising your voice?
A pause.
“What do you mean, lost the shoes?”
I took a breath. “The shoes, Sammy! The shoes. I put them down on the floor by a bench and someone walked off with them.”
“Holy crap!” He got it now. “You lost the fucking shoes! Why the hell did you take them off ?”
This is where it got tricky. “They were making my feet hurt. I switched them after we got across the border and put on flats instead.”
Another pause.
“Who’s the we?”
A blast of cold hit my face. Crap. I blew it. Sammy may be rough, but he isn’t stupid.
“We.” I swallowed. Tried to breathe. “You know that bank robbery on King? My car was in the parking lot, and I decided to leave it there because I didn’t want to be frisked—you know, scene of the crime, and me being who I am and what I was carrying—so I got someone to drive me here.”
“Who someone?”
“Um…Pete Malone.”
I heard real bad cursing. Real bad. Aunt Miriam would have his nuts for noodles if she knew.
“How much does he know?” Sammy said finally.
“Nothing. He thinks we’re going out to dinner tonight after I do a little shopping.” Lie, lie, lie. I’m going to hell, no question.
“Vinnie ain’t gonna like this.” I could almost hear him shaking his head.
“Vince doesn’t have to know about it. At least not yet. Look, I need you to call the Battalia people and tell them there’s been a slight delay. We’ll make the trade tomorrow, same time. Can you do that?”
“You going to be able to get them back by tomorrow?”
The Goddaughter Page 2
