Dirty Trouble (8 page)

“Well, it was more than that. I’d appreciate you minding your own business in the future.”

A humorous sparkle entered his eyes. “Does this mean I can’t come to dinner anymore?”

A smile teetered on the edge of my lips, and I gave in.

“You can, as long as you keep your trap shut.”

“Wow, that hurt.” He held his hand against his heart.

“My parents are good people, and DeGreico scared the bejeepers out of them. It’s bad enough my father doesn’t give me a break about my job and living alone. You did see that, didn’t you?”

“I did. He’s just concerned for your welfare, though.”

“Oh, yeah, I get it. The guy thing.” I turned to Aaron as he wandered toward his truck. My hand rested on my hip.

“My father is the epitome of male chauvinism. Do you understand? I don’t need a babysitter, a hero on a white steed, or any of the rest of that shit. I’m a woman, quite capable of taking care of myself. Understand?”

“Yeah, I understand. Maybe better than you think.” Aaron backtracked toward me with a tense attitude.

I’d hit a nerve.

“What I understand is that those two people in there care deeply and worry about their only daughter. The same daughter caught up in the life of criminal justice. A life they don’t begin to comprehend. Try to understand that, will you? I think you give your father a bum rap.”

“Think what you want. I’ve lived with them a long time and of course I know they care. I also know how easily they’d run my life, if they could.” I sighed and shook my head. “Sorry about the tirade, but I know my parents and their conniving ways. You have no idea.”

He drew nearer and ran his hands along my arms in the chilly night air. Goose bumps layered my skin. His hands felt warm.

“I think you’re overreacting to the fact that I’ve been invited back. It’s no more than a simple extension of hospitality, I’m sure.

He didn’t know my father the way I did. He also wasn’t aware that if my father knew Aaron was FBI, there would be no further invitations for anything. Even Marcus walked a thin line with my dad.

This was a no win situation. I realized Aaron was blind to the ways of Italian parenting. To end the argument, I nodded in agreement and forced a smile to my lips.

He smiled back and said, “I’ll see you later. I’m headed into Providence for a bit.” His lips brushed my cheek, and he was gone.

As I settled into the front seat of Lola’s car, I buckled the seat belt. I backed from the driveway after Aaron pulled away from the curb. My mind a muddle, I knew there would be hell to pay with my parents. They’d taken a liking to this monolithically proportioned guy, and it made me nervous.

Chapter 7

Sunlight waned as I covered the distance from my parents’ house to the deli. I returned the car keys to Lola and walked up the street to the house. A Dodge Ram pickup truck glided into the driveway just as I headed toward the door with my goody bag in hand. Marcus parked his truck and strolled toward me.

His walk neared a swagger, and he reminded me of a pirate ship captain. My imagination was running away with me again. It must be his craggy good looks that brought me around to this way of thinking.

A slow smile crossed features that hiked my pulse and warmed my heart.

“Is that a bag of food from your mother?”

I should have known he’d be interested in the food first.

“Yeah, are you starving? Didn’t you eat yet?” I chuckled.

“There wasn’t that much time today. What’s in the bag?” He reached over and uncurled the crimped edges of the brown bag. A rich aroma wafted out, and he turned to me with that wolfish grin.

“Come on in and I’ll feed you.”

“Dessert, too?” Dark brows waggled as the grin widened.

“Don’t tell me, you have to have dessert, too?”

“Yeah, but it depends on what you have to offer.”

I ignored the remark and unlocked the doors to the house. In the kitchen, I set out a plate while Marcus unloaded the goody bag. I rounded the counter toward him and he wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling my neck.

Succumbing to his lips, my knees weakened and my mouth found his. To hell with dinner, I thought while my inner voice started its usual low-keyed scream of
Beware, beware, he’s a cop. He’ll break your heart.
I ignored the voice and let Marcus have free reign.

A while later, dinner still sat on the counter. As we wandered into the kitchen I was happy, Mr. Winky was happy, and Marcus looked pretty happy too. I chucked the food into the microwave, set the timer, and straddled a stool at the counter. Across from me, Marcus picked at the apple crisp and then glanced in my direction.

“What’s been happening with DeGreico?”

“Nothing, though everyone seems worried.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“My parents, Lola, you, and Aaron.”

“Your parents know he’s out of the looney bin?”

“Yep, and my mother thinks I should move home. Good grief, as if that would ever happen.”

“Want to tell me the whole story? I’m a good listener, you know.”

“Honestly, I’d rather not relive that particular experience, if you don’t mind.” My look pleaded with him to stop the interrogation.

He gave a small nod.

“Whatever you say, Vin. If you ever want to discuss it, let me know.”

This was way too easy. If I were a stupid, gullible sort I’d have believed that tripe. However, I know Marcus better than that.

“You’ve undoubtedly done a preliminary search for information on this guy, Marcus. Don’t play me, okay?”

“No search, no prelim, no nothing,” he said with a sincerity that I didn’t believe for a moment. “If you want to tell me, you will. If not, then don’t.”

Uncertain if this new attitude was real, I nodded and changed the subject.

“What’s the scoop on the racketeering charges against Antonio?”

A chuckle erupted from Marcus, and then he sobered. “It seems that Antonio, the businessman, has been shuffling more than his share of stolen goods. He’s into high-end merchandise, and, unbeknownst to him, the stupid ass dealt these goods to an undercover FBI agent, the same agent who lives upstairs.”

“Get outta here,” I exclaimed. “Aaron never said it was his investigation and that he was the agent involved with the arrest. It makes sense, though, now that I think about it.”

“He wasn’t. The police and FBI set up a sting with Aaron as the buyer. Antonio made the deal, and the whole thing was taped. The arrest wasn’t made at that time. The fool did another deal on the way to pick up your aunt. When they were leaving her house, they both got arrested.”

“That’s when my aunt shot her face off, right?”

“Right. She was a firebrand. Huffing and puffing like the old dragon she is.” Laughter rolled from Marcus.

Humor tickled the corners of my mouth and I managed a chuckle. Aunt Muffy had always been a dragon. Her candid attitude was legendary in our family and among friends. Much to my mother’s dismay, Muffy drew the worst of the bad boys and loved every minute of it. If this were the 1930s, my aunt would undoubtedly be considered a ‘Gun Moll’ for the mob. I smirked at the thought.

When Marcus caught the smirk he raised a brow in question, and I shared the thought. We got a good chuckle from it.

“What do you think will happen to Auntie?”

“She’ll probably get let off with a warning from the judge, and maybe some community service – if she keeps her dragon attitude to herself.”

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t turn the courtroom into a circus. Lord, I don’t know how I get dragged into these things.”

“District Attorney Kincaid might try to use her against Antonio, you know. It wouldn’t be the first time the DA’s played that particular game, tough bastard that he is.”

“She’ll have an attorney. I won’t allow her to be used by anyone. What do you know about Kincaid? He has a nasty reputation among the cops, but then, who doesn’t?”

“Kincaid is a climber.” Marcus turned an arched brow and a cold-eyed stare toward me. “You know what that means. He’ll step on anyone, anywhere, at anytime to get his foot up another rung on the ladder of success. He’s about as ruthless as they come. If I were you, I’d make sure Mafalda has the best attorney money can buy.”

“All I said was that I’d take her to the arraignment, not all the way to the Supreme Court, for God’s sake.” I ran a hand across my brow and flipped the mop of hair off my face.

He stretched his hand across the counter to run warm fingers over my hand, which then tightened into a squeeze.

I glanced into his warm gaze and smiled.

“Why did you have to protect the governor yesterday?” I asked. “Doesn’t he have a regular trooper to do that? Someone who’s assigned to him?”

“Yeah, the trooper was on vacation. He and his family went to Disney, and I caught the last day. It’s not unusual for that to happen, but it’s not a job I care for. Standing around looking like a boob, while the governor shakes hands and has dinner, is boring as hell. I even had to eat in the kitchen with the help.” Marcus stretched and yawned. “At least they were good company.” He smirked as he rose from the counter.

“Leaving already?”

“Yeah, tomorrow is another busy day. I’ll stay in touch, though.”

This was said as he ran his hands along my arms, up to my shoulders. A finger traced the neckline of my scoop-necked jersey. He pulled it open a tad and glanced down the front, a gleeful smile on his face.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Richmond.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?”

“Me.”

With that, he backed me into the bedroom again, toward the bed. He started to pull my jersey up when the phone jingled. I sighed. He sighed. And I answered the second ring.

“Vinnie speaking.”

A long silence met my greeting. I waited another few seconds, repeated my name, and then hung up. My fingers tapped the surface of the phone as I tried to figure out who called. Caller ID listed the caller as unknown.

“Who was it?” Marcus’s inquiring look met mine.

“Nobody, probably a wrong number.” I shrugged and moved toward Marcus.

A buzzing sound filtered through the material of Marcus’ trousers. I glanced down and then looked at him, a smirk on my face.

“Your pants are buzzing, Marcus Richmond.”

“Shit.” He withdrew the small unit and read the text message.

“What?”

“I have to report to headquarters. Sorry.” He grimaced.

“No problem, I knew you couldn’t finish what you started.” Laughter filled my voice, and I chuckled at his look. One point for me, and zero for Marcus.

We walked to the door as Marcus tucked his shirt into his uniform pants. After a lingering kiss that promised he’d be back again, I watched him leave and then locked up behind him.

The truck spun out of the driveway and I heard it roar up the street. Whoever paged him better have a good reason, I thought. I surmised Marcus wouldn’t be kind to anyone who yanked his chain.

As I extinguished the lights and wandered toward the bedroom, the phone jingled its tune again. The clock on the bedside table just climbed to ten o’clock and I wondered who’d call this late. Not another family emergency, I prayed.

“Vinnie speaking,” I said on a sigh.

Silence met my words once again. I disconnected the call and checked the phone for the caller’s number. The read-out showed unknown, which left me a bit annoyed. I slipped the phone into the cradle, set up the coffee pot for the morning, and headed to bed. One dead-air call was fine, but two in a row could be more than coincidence.

The house was locked up, though I hadn’t heard Aaron return. I knew with his stealthy maneuvering I wouldn’t hear anything but his truck. With that realization, I snuggled under the covers and awaited sleep. To toss and turn all night was not my idea of a good time.

An hour later, I still lay wide-awake, the covers in a jumbled mess. Cripes, I needed to be clear-headed for class or the cops would harangue the daylights out of me. It isn’t easy to stay one step ahead of people who work on the streets everyday. Earlier, I’d considered how I would manage to get to class without my car. I couldn’t continue to borrow Lola’s, though she didn’t mind. A sigh escaped me as I thought of the students again.

These people had more street smarts than I’d ever have, but I had more expertise in areas that they hardly ever worked. That was my one advantage when they snickered over my inexperience with ‘upfront and personal’ crime. When push came to shove, these cops, Two-Point-Fives and real Five-Os, grudgingly gave me credit for teaching them something they didn’t know, and a good time was had by all.

After another hour of flopping around like a beached fish, I sat up in the dark. The pillows bunched behind me. I slumped against them with chagrin. What was bothering me? I ticked the list off in my mind.

Aunt Muffy’s arraignment for resisting arrest topped the list. My mother might start making marriage noises. Aaron would undoubtedly grill me about my family and their connections due to the fact he was investigating Auntie’s new flame. My father was worried I’d get involved in a mob investigation. To top it all off, ‘Tony the Slimeball’ had left the looney bin, and my family acted berserk about it already. All I needed now was for Nonni to enter the picture.
Cripes.

I tried to relax in the soft darkness of the room. I listened to the noises outside. A hearty wind rattled crisp leaves, and tree branches scraped against the house. I slipped from beneath the covers and drew the drapes against the sound. A chill scuttled along my skin. I hunkered back under the blankets and considered Tony DeGreico.

 He was a charming guy who had been engaged to a bright, cheerful woman. Maria had been in high school with me and we stayed in touch. Early on in my career, I lived in a small duplex in Cranston, not far from her florist shop.

An elderly retired couple, which migrated to Florida from November through April, owned the duplex. That left me on my own. I checked their apartment and watered the plants while they were gone. Once in a while, I managed to kill a plant and would replace it with healthy look-alike from Maria’s shop. The couple never caught on to the fact and I was most grateful.