Alessia (The Casella Cousins Book 4)

by Kathryn Shay

  “Why, Drake. Surely you know you’re endangering her.”

  “I—I can’t answer that.”

  “Then I’m going to tell her about you.”

  “Ronan, you can’t do that. The more people that know, including you, the less likely we’ll zero in on the culprits.”

  “Then stop seeing Alessia. You were at Hayley’s wedding and at Thanksgiving. Sounds to me like it’s serious.”

  It was. He couldn’t continue to kid himself about that fact. And they were right. If something he did endangered Alessia, he’d never forgive himself.

  There was only one way out of this. “All right, I’ll stop spending time with her.”

  “That’s what I want.

  It wasn’t what Derek wanted. In truth, he felt gutted by the thought.

  * * *

  Anxious to see Derek tonight, Alessia tried to banish the fact that he hadn’t texted or called her over the weekend to see how she—or Gideon, for that matter—was doing. But first, she went in the administrative entrance and headed to Jane Carlin’s office to drop off her final schedule for classes next semester. She had plenty of time before class so she could see Derek.

  When she got to Jane’s office, she found the door ajar. A murmur of voices flooded out. The deeper one was familiar. “I know,” Derek said “I had a great time Saturday, too. How about going to a play this week?”

  A feminine giggle. Jane. “Nah, let me cook dinner for you. At my place.”

  A male chuckle. “If you insist, sweetheart.”

  Alessia almost dropped her purse. She was grateful she didn’t and pivoted, then bolted down the hall. She reached the stairwell and dropped down on the top step. She put her head in her hands.

  What were you thinking, Alessia? You knew he was out of your league right from the beginning.

  But damn it. He’d pursued her, inviting himself to the wedding. Accepting an invitation to Thanksgiving dinner.

  Yeah, but he told you he couldn’t get serious with anybody because he was still grieving.

  He freaking didn’t sound like he was grieving in the sexy banter with Jane Carlin.

  She sat there a long time, thinking about her life. Luckily, Billy had taken out a big insurance policy when they got married, so she had enough to pay off the house and banked the rest to live on. But it had been so hard for her to raise her family without him. She’d had to quit her job as a teacher’s aide, too, to take care of the twins. Depression haunted her for a long time, then she was just sad. But she made it through all that. And now, she was a strong woman who wasn’t going to dissolve into a puddle of tears because the man she had a crush on was dating someone else.

  After a stop at the ladies’ room, she headed to class. But when she got there, she found Derek waiting outside.

  He gave her that big, sexy grin. “Hello, there.”

  “Hi, Derek.” Something made her add, “Did you have a good weekend?”

  “It was a little boring. You?”

  “I had fun at the twins’ ice-skating party. Did you have a nice Saturday?”

  “Um,” he frowned. “I just told you it was boring.”

  “Yeah, you told me a lot of things.” She made a show of checking her watch. “We’d better get inside.”

  “Alessia…”

  But she was on her way inside.

  The final lesson of Interpersonal Communication was more of a wrap up than anything else. The teacher asked them to record the top two things they’d learned and how they would translate into the classroom.

  Alessia wrote: How to listen better. It related to classroom by teaching kids how to listen better. She used as an example the talk on listening with the fast speaker.

  Second was group work—the students themselves worked a lot in small groups. And from participating, they learned how groups worked and how to facilitate one. Eventually, she’d teach the kids the rules of group work. She cited the eraser lesson where, in order to speak, the student had to have possession of the eraser. He or she was the only one who spoke. When another student wanted to add to the discussion, that person had to summarize what the previous speaker said before he or she got the eraser and stated her point.

  She put her pen down just as the teacher called for a full class discussion. “Who would like to go first?”

  Alessia raised her hand. She stated her examples. “How many of you put down one or two of what Alessia did?”

  About a quarter of the students.

  “All right, let’s hear some more.”

  But Alessia didn’t listen to them. She was incredibly distracted by the fact that Derek stared at her for almost the whole class period.

  * * *

  Derek had to end the relationship tonight, even if it killed him. So, he waited for her to come out of class. When she did, he grasped her by the arm and said, “Let’s go get coffee.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “You have to. It’s important.”

  She conceded without argument and when they settled into a booth in the café, he sat across from her. Instead of drinking the coffee he’d gotten, though, he took her hands in his. She was trembling and he didn’t know why. “I have to tell you something.”

  “If it’s about your pillow talk and your dates with Jane Carlin, I already know.”

  “What?”

  “Before class, I went to hand in my schedule for next semester and the door was ajar.”

  Goddamn it, he thought it was closed.

  “I’m sorry you heard that. But it’s true. I’ve decided to see Jane, too.”

  “And sleep with her?”

  “Maybe.”

  Alessia’s face paled and those huge dark eyes got bleak. “Why her and not me?”

  The truth might help here. “Because I can’t keep it casual with you. I’m starting to care too much about you. So, I thought if I dated someone else, my feelings for you might diminish.”

  “Derek, I care about you, too.” Her voice was so sad, and he wished instead she’d get angry. “I care about you more than you know.”

  “I sensed that. But Alessia, I can’t fall in love with you after Linda’s only been gone eight months.”

  She glanced down and she took a deep breath. “I said I’d respect that. But Derek, you casually screwing Jane Carlin? That breaks my heart.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It sounds so seedy. Please don’t do this.”

  “I have to.”

  A few tears rolled down her cheeks. She disentangled their hands and swiped them away. She slid out of the booth, picked up her jacket and bookbag. “I guess I have no say in this. But I want one promise from you.”

  “I’ll do it if I can.”

  “Promise me you won’t come back and tell me you made a mistake by choosing Jane.” Her voice was hoarse and husky. “I can never accept you if you go ahead with this.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodbye, Derek.”

  Quietly, she walked away.

  Out of his life.

  Grant would be pleased.

  * * *

  Stuart wasn’t the only one in this place. He’d seen the others coming and going. He was totally addicted to the drugs, as was their plan, but at times, when he was coherent enough, he planned his suicide. There were no knives with meals, but he’d managed to snitch a fork because they unknowingly sent him two, and the deliverer didn’t notice.

  Sure, it would be painful. But nothing, nothing, could be more excruciating than spending his entire life in a prison not of his making.

  Chapter 7

  * * *

  Alessia was really pissed off. Really pissed off! On Wednesday morning, she texted Adam Baron and asked if he wanted to go to the movies. He texted right back an enthusiastic Yes, with emojis and suggested the next night. That done, she cleaned her house. From top to bottom, skipping lunch, and working right until the front bell rang.

  Listlessly, she walked to the foyer and opened the door.

  “Hey
, Ali.” Gideon’s face darkened. “What’s wrong?”

  “Come on in.”

  He walked in and down the hallway to the kitchen. “Want coffee?”

  “Yeah, I’ll get us both some.”

  They sat at the table, and he said gently, “Tell me, honey.”

  “Derek and I broke up. He said he can’t get involved with me because his wife died not long ago and it doesn’t seem right.”

  “Geez, you two hit it off so well.” His white-blond brows knitted. “And he’s a good guy. He was a big help in the car crash.”

  “I know. He is a good guy. But it’s over.”

  “Maybe something will change.”

  “No. We’re done.”

  “I’m sorry for you then.”

  “Was there a reason you came over from Mama’s?” He was recuperating there for a few days.

  “Yeah. I didn’t get the promotion. Anabelle Sanders got it.”

  “Oh, Gid, I’m sorry.” She took his hand. “Did they say they gave it to her because you were sidelined?”

  “They hinted at it in private. Not in front of her. They said their decision was still pending, but my injury made their minds up.”

  “Did you talk to Anabelle?”

  “Yep. She wants me on the task force as soon as my two-weeks’ required recuperation time is over. I said I’d think about it.”

  “You really wanted to be on that.”

  “I know, but geez…”

  “Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.”

  He thought about that a minute. “Yeah, why deprive myself of a new job, just because I can’t be boss?” His gaze narrowed on her. “When did you get so smart?”

  She laughed and it felt good.

  Gideon left with a reminder she was supposed to come to dinner at Mama’s tonight.

  An hour later, Mattie burst inside, running into the kitchen with his boots on, getting her clean floors dirty. “Mommy, can we go to Tommy’s. He got a new train set as an early Christmas present, and we wanna play with it.”

  “Sure, Mattie. Let me get the snack I made for all of you.”

  “Uncle Rafe said he’d fix us one, and to watch from the house till we get there.”

  Mikey had stayed in the foyer waiting.

  “All right, I’ll take your bags to your room, so you can go now.”

  Alessia was glad for the bite of frigid air as she stood in the driveway of her house and Rafe opened the door to his, called out, “Hey Sis. I got this. Thanks for helping us out, here.”

  She knew Tomaso had become clingy the closer Kate’s due date got. Having friends over occupied him, so Rafe could spoil his wife.

  Before she went back inside, Pete’s bus stopped and he got off. “Hey, honey. Have a nice day?”

  “Yeah.” They went through the garage, he kicked off his boots in the mud room and tucked his coat on the hook. When he came into the kitchen, he said, “Mom, I need to talk to you.”

  Man, she wasn’t up to another row with her son. She was hanging on to her emotions by a thread. “Sure.” She got a fruit plate from the fridge and she and Pete sat. He asked, “How long am I grounded?”

  “Let’s see. It’s the end of November. You’ve been grounded, two weeks. Is that enough, you think, for smoking pot and lying to me?”

  The kid she loved dearly surfaced from inside the rebellious teen. “Probably not. But the school’s sponsoring a movie night this weekend. The teachers are chaperoning. I wanna go, Mom. Please.”

  Drained, sad, and exhausted, Alessia didn’t have the heart to say no. “Yes, you can go. You’re grounded until then. But that’ll be the end of it if I get a promise from you not to smoke marijuana until you’re of age and have the right to decide for yourself.”

  “I promise, Mom.”

  Would that ever happen, though? When she was in high school, she and Billy drank on occasion. And had sex, she reminded herself. But now the latter was more prevalent and smoking pot was the new drinking.

  She’d deal with that when she had to. Before he went upstairs, he asked, “Mom, are you okay? You seem sad.”

  Truer words were never spoken. She’d been a fool to let Derek Davidson do this to her. “I’m fine.”

  And she would be, she promised. She’d pull herself out of the quagmire of loss and be herself again.

  * * *

  The date with Jane was excruciating. Derek sat in her high-end apartment, which was way too expensive for the salary she made. The couches and chairs were stark white leather and the rugs were Persian. Equally, the tables were an expensive teak.

  Jane herself was dressed for seduction tonight with her blond hair down and tousled, her voluptuous body draped in some slinky purple material. She had too much makeup on her face.

  “I’m so glad you came, Derek.” Her voice was a purr. “Did I tell you I’m going to a conference this weekend?”

  “No, you didn’t.” How had they missed this? “Where is it?”

  “In Albany. I hate them, these administrative get-togethers.”

  “I thought teachers loved conferences.”

  “They’re boring.” Her gaze perused him. “You look good. Different somehow.” He’d gone home and gotten the expensive jeans and green cashmere sweater because he figured that would impress her.

  “Yeah. My one and only good outfit.”

  She kept watching him. “But you look tense.”

  “Do I?”

  “Uh-huh. I know just the thing.” She rose and crossed to a five-by-five inches, small ceramic case. From it she took something. He didn’t see what until she turned around.

  A joint.

  Jesus. Could this get any worse? Because this operation was so important, he had leeway to do what was necessary, “Let’s share one, okay? I don’t want to get too high.”

  She sat down next to him and lit it. He took shallow puffs but felt the effects. And the skunky smell filled the air, probably seeped into his clothes.

  When they finished, she smiled sexily. “There, you’re more mellow. Just what I want.” She stood and took his hand, pulled him up.

  He followed her down the hall, cursing fate and his duty to serve and protect. When they reached the bedroom, she went to the huge bed and drew her top over her head. A sexy black bra pushed up her breasts. “Take your clothes off, too, sugar.”

  Feeling ill, he started unbuttoning his shirt.

  * * *

  As soon as Jane Carlin texted him on Thursday night that she was at the conference, he left the college café. He’d asked her to let him know when she arrived in Albany, so he didn’t worry about her safety. She’d loved that, not knowing it was a ruse.

  He took the elevator to her second floor. There, with no one around, he wandered nonchalantly down the hallway. When he reached the office, he donned gloves, then used his lock-picking tools to get in. He didn’t turn the lights on but went to the desk. A hint of her expensive perfume still lingered in the air.

  Of course, when he booted up the computer, a ping, resounded in the small office, seeming unnaturally loud. Ignoring it, he took out his phone and typed in the password the FBI had culled—he didn’t know how they got it—and he clicked into documents. What would she name the file, if she did indeed keep track of her operation at the school? His studied each folder, tried several for the better part of an hour, then clicked into one named 1-2-3-4-5 that was buried within a folder, within another folder and yet another. There was only one page in it. Five entries on the paper. He stared at list. The last one was SBt1020B55P. SB as in Stuart Breed?

  He carefully entered the information of all five notations into his phone, rechecked it once, twice, three times. He closed the computer down, and crept out of the office. He needed to get to Grant so they could decipher what this meant.

  * * *

  Alessia met Adam Barone at the movie theater Thursday night. She’d forced herself to fuss with her appearance. She put on casual jeans, her fur-lined boots and a sparkly sweater.
Over it she wore her down coat. He smiled when he saw her enter the lobby. “Alessia, hi.”

  “Hi, Adam.”

  “You look cute.”

  “Thanks. So, you’re a James Bond fan?”

  “Fanatic, if you ask my brothers. I like the cinematography, the outlandish feats Bond performs and the love story, of course.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  He insisted on paying for the tickets.

  She insisted, “Then I’ll buy popcorn and drinks.”

  They settled into the plush, push-back, reclining seats in the new Hidden Cove Cinema Complex.

  “Were you happy with the skating party?” he asked her before the movie started.

  “I thought it was great. Better yet, the kids raved about it. You did a nice job.”

  “Now, onto Movie Night this weekend. Is, um Pete coming?”

  “Do you know he’s grounded?”

  “Yeah, I hear the kids talking.”

  “The sentence ends tomorrow.”

  “Ali, if you ever need an adult to talk to about your teen, I’m available.”

  “Thanks. I’ll remember that.” She didn’t say she had brothers and cousins for the role of confidant. It would have been rude.

  The movie began. Initially, Alessia immersed herself in the special effects: James Bond rappelling off a bridge, a motor cycle chase that had her nearly choking on her popcorn.

  But when Bond started to romance an old flame who’d betrayed him, a woman who hadn’t told him who she really was, Alessia’s stomach got queasy. Man, she just couldn’t escape Derek. And against her will, she wondered where he was, what he was doing tonight. But when an image of Jane Carlin intruded, she cut off the thoughts. She had to be strong.

  “Did you like the movie?” Adam asked after it ended. “You got a little quiet.”

  “Just enjoying the romance.” Not. “Did you like it?”

  “What man wouldn’t?”

  Would Derek? She’d never get to know.

  “Want to go for a drink?” He checked his watch. “It’s still early.”

  Because the images of a man who shut her down kept coming, she said, “I’d love to, Adam.”