Boyd grinned. “That sounds more like what I would have expected you to say.”
Katrina studied him covertly. He liked having the animosity between them. Why? Was he afraid he might learn to like her? A sudden thought struck her. “I'll bet that knife wound in your back was put there by someone you liked and trusted...probably a woman.”
Ignoring her remark, he pulled into the fast-food place and stopped in front of the large menu in the drive-through lane. “What do you want to eat?”
“A determined change of subject,” Leona noted, mischief in her voice. “Obviously you're right, Katrina. It was a woman.”
“It wasn't a woman. And that's the end of this discussion,” he replied. “Now what do you two want to eat?”
Fair's fair,
Katrina reasoned. He'd felt perfectly free asking her about herself and expecting answers. “I'll bet you're lying. You probably irritated her to the point of uncontrollable rage.”
Boyd realized they were not going to stop until he told them what had happened. “It was a man...my first partner. I found out he was on the payroll of the mob boss we were trying to get some evidence on. He tried to kill me to keep me quiet.” His jaw hardened to let them know that he now considered the subject absolutely closed. “What do you want to eat?”
This time they placed their orders.
“I don't suppose we could find a decent bottle of wine to go with this...this meal,” Leona pleaded on the way back to the motel.
“We have to stay clearheaded,” Katrina replied.
“You and Agent Logan have to stay clearheaded,” Leona corrected.
“We're not making any more stops than necessary.” Boyd's curt tone stopped any further pleading from Leona.
She did, however, continue to glower at him until they were seated at the table in the motel room. Then with a final aggrieved grimace in his direction, she turned her attention to Katrina and smiled motherly. “So, do you have a boyfriend?”
“No.” Katrina said it with a finality she hoped would stop any more questions. It didn't work.
“Why not?” Leona demanded. “You're pretty enough. And sweet. Men like âsweet' women. Don't they, Agent Logan?”
“Men like women they can trust,” Boyd returned grimly.
Tired of telling him that she could be trusted, Katrina merely cast him a caustic glance, then returned her attention to her aunt. “Most men exit quickly when they discover I'm a cop. For those that stick around for a second date, eventually the questions about family arise. So, what does your father do? My father's dead. Oh, I'm sorry. Don't be, he was an enforcer for Vince Garduchi. Suddenly, my date's looking at his watch and remembering something important he forgot to do.”
Leona frowned sympathetically. “Wimps. You just haven't met the right man yet You need someone macho, confident, fearless.” She turned to Boyd. “Do you have any brothers at home with a more friendly disposition?”
An unexpected twinge of jealousy at the thought of Katrina with another man shook Boyd. Casting Leona a cool glance, he continued eating.
“I'm sure that Agent Logan wouldn't want me as a member of his family,” Katrina said.
Boyd met her icy gaze. “I have two brothers. But neither of them would suit you any better than I would.”
Katrina was stunned by the glint of possessiveness in the dark depths of his eyes.
Realizing how close he'd come to admitting how attracted he was to her, Boyd scowled angrily at himself and returned his attention to his food.
“That's definitely not promising,” Leona muttered.
Katrina made no response. She was recalling Boyd's kiss. If she could ever break down his barrier of distrust, maybe...
“You're part Native American, aren't you?” Leona asked, continuing to study Boyd with interest.
Pride showed in his eyes. “My mother is Apache.”
“No doubt she's one of those submissive women who caters to your father's every whim and spoilt her sons by waiting on you hand and foot,” Leona said. “That's why you're so overbearingly authoritarian.”
Boyd abruptly grinned. “Anyone who ever called my mother submissive to her face would live to regret it.” The grin vanished. “As for my being authoritarian, I'm just trying to keep you alive.” His gaze narrowed on her. “But I am beginning to wonder how you survived in Garduchi's service for so long. I'm surprised he didn't have you knocked off for being such an irritant.”
“Don't be ridiculous. I'm not stupid. I was always polite and respectful to his face.”
“The not-being-stupid part is questionable. You stole from a man who thinks that death is the only viable retribution,” Katrina reminded her.
“So I showed a little bad judgment, Nobody's perfect.”
Katrina shook her head and finished eating her meal in silence.
While her aunt was in the bathroom preparing for bed, Katrina's gaze traveled over their accommodations. There were two double beds. That meant sharing a bed with her aunt again. “I'll take the first watch,” she said. “I'm not going to get much sleep anyway.”
“There's no need to keep watch. No one followed us here.” Boyd frowned at the two beds. He knew he should keep his distance from Officer Polenari but he couldn't make her spend the night in a chair and he needed to stretch out on a bed. “If you promise to keep on your side, you can share my bed.”
Katrina considered rejecting his offer. His cold, businesslike manner made her feel like a pest. But she was exhausted and stiff and the desire to lie down was too hard to resist. “You've got a deal,” she replied in equally cool tones.
When Leona discovered their agreed-upon arrangements, she wasn't happy. “I feel as your aunt, I should protest,” she said.
“I'm keeping my clothes on,” Katrina assured her.
“And I give you my word, I'll keep my hands off of her,” Boyd added, then realized he was saying this more as an order to himself than as a reassurance to the aunt.
Leona shook her head. “I hope the two of you don't get in a fight over the covers' and maim each other. Good night, children.”
Katrina pulled the bedspread over to her side. “I'll just roll up in this,” she informed Boyd. “You can sleep under the sheet and blanket.”
Boyd nodded. For a long moment he studied her with indecision. Finally, he said, “I'm going to take a shower. I want your word that you won't make any phone calls or leave this room.”
Disbelief showed on her face. “You're actually going to take my word?”
“It's going to be a long trip. I can't watch you every second.”
“You have my word.”
Boyd heard no hesitation in her voice. Either she was on the level or she still needed him. Or, he was playing the fool and she and her aunt would try to sneak out. Might
as well find out now,
he decided. But he wouldn't make it easy if they did decide to run. Saying he wanted to check the fluid levels in the car, he went out and loosened a couple of wires. Returning to the room, he left the keys to the car in plain view and went into the bathroom to bathe.
When he came out a short while later, Leona and Katrina were both there. Leona was snoring and Katrina was curled up in the bedspread watching television. The tiny wad of crumpled paper he'd surreptitiously dropped on the floor and pushed up against the door was where he'd left it, telling him they hadn't opened the door.
Unable to keep her gaze from drifting in his direction, Katrina felt her temperature rising. He was shirtless and shoeless, dressed only in a pair of jeans. His skin still glistened with lingering dampness and his dark hair was wet and mused. She didn't think she'd ever seen a man look more virile. Jerking her gaze back to the television, she kept it there while he combed his hair and pulled on a T-shirt.
Then going over to the phone, he pressed the redial. He got a local pizza place.
She frowned at him. “I gave you my word we wouldn't use the phone.”
“Just checking,” he returned.
The man was impossible, Katrina fumed. She'd allowed herself to actually begin to think he was learning to trust her. When he stretched out on the bed beside her, she told herself to ignore him. Instead she heard herself saying dryly, “So you actually took a shower.”
“I told you I was going to.”
Deciding to let him know that she was aware that he'd left his keys out in plain view for the express purpose of seeing if the women would run, she said, “I considered getting up and clanging your keys. Good thing I didn't. We would have both been embarrassed if you'd come rushing out of the bathroom with only your gun.”
The thought that the lusty effect she had on him could have been exposed caused his neck to redden. “This isn't a game,” he growled.
“You're right,” she agreed, wishing she'd kept her mouth shut. Her jabbering had caused her to consider what he might have looked like and the image that her mind had conjured up was causing her blood to race. Switching off the television, she ordered herself to sleep.
Boyd placed a call to his superior to let him know they were all right. Then lying on his back, he stared into the dark. Bedroom games he'd like to play with Officer Polenari occupied his thoughts.
Keep your mind on the business at hand!
he commanded himself for the umpteenth time and closing his eyes, he slept.
Chapter 7
K
atrina awoke comfortable and rested. Feeling the pressure of something laying on her, she realized Boyd had thrown his arm over her. A sense of being safe and protected wove through her. She scowled at herself. He wasn't protecting her, he was making certain she didn't try to sneak out during the night. Even in his sleep, his distrust was so strong, he'd felt the need to hold onto her. Squirming free, she left the bed and went into the bathroom.
Boyd turned on his back and stared up at the ceiling. He'd been awake for a short while. When he'd woken and discovered he had his arm around Katrina, he'd liked the closeness. He'd told himself he could be holding on to a rattlesnake, but still he'd lain there quietly unwilling to break the contact. The remembered taste of her lips taunted him and he wanted a second serving. Angry with himself, he rose and woke Leona.
“Go away,” she grumbled and covered her head with her pillow.
“Time to be on the move,” he insisted.
She raised the pillow just enough to glare at him. “There's no rush. The attorney said it would take him a few days to convene a grand jury.”
“I want those ledgers in hand so that when that time comes we can be in Washington within hours.”
Leona continued to glower at him as she tossed off her pillow and rose.
Hearing the locks on the door being undone, Boyd's attention was jerked away from her to Katrina. “Where do you think you're going?”
The suspicion in his voice rankled her. “Nowhere. I was just seeing if they'd left a newspaper outside the door.” Her gaze shifted to Leona. “My aunt likes to take her time in the morning.”
“And I don't intend to rush for anyone,” Leona added.
Boyd waited until Katrina had picked up the newspaper left outside their door and relocked the locks, then he again stretched out on the bed and lay staring up at the ceiling. He should have let Lewis take this assignment, he grumbled silently. Then the thought that Katrina could be exactly as she presented herself brought the realization that he wanted to be the one to protect her in case there was trouble, and that realization brought a mental groan. Sitting up, he switched on the television and found the news channel.
It was nearly three hours later before they were finally ready to begin their day's journey. Leona had insisted on breakfast at a local diner instead of a fast-food place and she'd also insisted that they keep the motel room and return there to freshen up after they ate.
“So what direction do I head in?” Boyd asked as they sat in the car and he prepared to pull out of the parking lot.
“Head for Natchez,” Leona replied, handing Katrina the map.
Well, at least she wasn't keeping their destination a secret any longer, Boyd thought.
They'd been riding for nearly an hour in silence when Katrina could no longer keep the thoughts bouncing around in her head to herself any longer. Turning to look at her aunt, she said, “You were always cautioning me not to cross Vince. You used to tell me that he could hunt anyone down anywhere. And you used to say it with admiration. The one thing I never would have questioned was your loyalty to him. I still can't believe you actually stole from him.”
Hatred glistened in Leona's eyes. For a long moment she was silent, then said, “Maybe I wouldn't have if I could have gotten my hands around your uncle's throat and choked the life out of him. But he was already dead by the time I found out what he'd done.”
Katrina had never heard such venom in her aunt's voice. “What did he do?”
“A simple affair I could have dealt with.” Leona gave a sharp wave of her hand. “Men begin to worry about losing their macho image so they play around a little. But not Carlos Serrenito. He did it in style. And Vince helped him. Carlos set his mistress up in a house, bought in her name, and fathered two sons by her. Just because I was barren didn't justify that. The wedding vows say âfor better or worse until death us do part.' And I lived up to my end of that bargain. Believe me Carlos wasn't that easy to live with either.”
Katrina recalled her uncle being a very stern, cold man who demanded that everything be done his way. She even remembered seeing him slap her aunt once and guessed that wasn't the only time.
“And,” Leona continued, “his mistress, the house, the boys were all paid for out of Carlos's salary and by bonuses Vince gave him in cash, under the table. Carlos told me that he'd gotten into debt gambling and Vince was deducting his losses, some each month from his salary. Instead the money was going to his mistress. I even wrote the checks to her. The woman was Vince's niece, Stella Berrette, the one with brains but homely as sin. I never saw her around, but Vince liked to put family on the payroll if they needed a little help so I didn't think anything about her getting monthly checks. I guess Vince figured being a kept woman was as close as Stella was going to come to having a man of her own.”
“That would be a shock,” Katrina said sympathetically.
“A shock? A shock? It was humiliating. Everyone knew but me. After Carlos died, behind my back, Vince arranged for Stella and the boys to come to a private viewing of him in his casket. Then she had the nerve to come openly to the funeral and bring her sons along as well. It wasn't until we were leaving the cemetery that I overheard Roseanne Garduchi and Wilma Valpreo talking and found out the truth. You know how loud Wilma can whisper. It's a wonder the Pope in Rome didn't hear her. I went directly to Vince and demanded to know how he could have allowed me to be humiliated that way.”
Apparently Vince Garduchi had never taken seriously the old saying about how dangerous a woman scorned could be, Boyd mused.
The sarcasm in Leona's voice increased. “He said that he'd suggested to Stella that perhaps she shouldn't attend the funeral but his niece had wept because of her deep love of Carlos and argued that the boys should have a chance to say a final, graveside goodbye to their father. âShe's family,' he said to me. âAnd she was right. The boys should have the right to pay respect to their father.' Then he pointed out that I had a well-paid position in his organization and it would be foolish to do anything to threaten it He also mentioned that it was tragic how so many widows followed their husbands to the grave...his little way of letting me know that if I caused any trouble, I'd find myself being taken for a ride by Louey and Victor and there'd be no return trip.”
“Now I understand why you did what you did,” Katrina said. “It had nothing to do with a midlife crisis. It was revenge.”
“You haven't heard the worst yet.”
Katrina stared at her aunt in disbelief. “It gets worse?”
Leona nodded. “The reading of the will. Carlos legally recognized the boys as his sons and left half of everything we owned to them and their mother. The house, our savings, what was in our checking account...everything. I was in a rage. Vince showed up that evening and told me he'd made arrangements with his niece to turn down her portion of the house so that I could keep my home. In return he paid her its value out of his own pocket and kept her on the payroll. For that, I was supposed to be grateful! I knew that behind my back, the other wives were laughing at me.” Leona drew a calming breath. “But I ignored them, pretended that I was pleased.”
Boyd glanced at Leona in the rearview mirror. He recognized the murderous look in her eyes. This was not a woman who dealt well with wounded pride. “I'm surprised you didn't try to kill Garduchi.”
“I considered it But that would only have gotten me killed in return. So I decided to hurt him in a way that would bring me a great deal of pleasure. I took his money and, if I get away, there will be a blemish on his reputation he can never get rid of. He'll have been outdone by a woman.” She laughed. “And then as icing on the cake, there's the jail time he'll be serving.” She grinned at Katrina. “Don't ever let anyone tell you that revenge isn't sweet.”
“You're not going to feel that way if you end up in a grave,” Katrina cautioned.
Leona smiled confidently. “I'm counting on you and Agent Logan to see that doesn't happen.”
Katrina had to admit that she felt a little better knowing her aunt hadn't gotten herself into this predicament simply out of greed.
Â
Several miles outside of Natchez, Leona insisted that Boyd stop at an abandoned gas station. “You two need disguises,” she said. “I'm sure Vince has sent out descriptions of both of you.”
Katrina had to admit her aunt was right. Opening up one of her suitcases, Leona pulled out a red wig. “I've always thought you'd look good as a redhead,” she said tossing the wig to Katrina.
“As for you.” Leona turned her attention to Boyd. “I figured they'd send a man but I had no idea what you'd look like. But I came prepared with several choices. The black beard and mustache will do.” She tossed them to him with a tube of glue.
Katrina was glad her hair was short. That made it easy to get the wig on.
“And now a little eye makeup and some lipstick.” Leona handed Katrina a makeup kit and directed her on how she wanted it applied.
“I look like a hooker,” Katrina grumbled.
“You look terrific,” Leona insisted and turned her attention back to Boyd.
Grudgingly, he'd glued the beard and mustache into place.
“You're perfect,” Leona said. “You look like a mountain man come into the big city for a look around. And that accent of yours will fit your disguise perfectly.”
She turned back to Katrina. “You need to speak with a southern flair as well.” Adding with her own southern accent, “I watched
Gone with the Wind
twice to get mine right. How do you like it?”
“Very good,” Katrina replied mimicking her aunt's drawl.
Boyd had to admit that Leona had thought of everything. Pulling back on the road, he wondered what other tricks she had up her sleeve.
Reaching Natchez, Boyd found them a motel. It was late afternoon.
“I've got to stretch my legs,” Leona said. “We'll find the main shopping district and do some looking around”
Boyd wasn't happy with the thought of them exposing themselves so openly. But he also was feeling the need for some exercise. And their disguises were good.
Katrina, too, wasn't interested in spending the rest of the day closeted in a motel room with the two of them. She also hoped her aunt was finished playing games and was going to pick up the ledgers.
But Leona seemed only interested in shopping. Then spying a quaint restaurant, she insisted on eating there. “I must have some decent food,” she said and strode in before either Boyd or Katrina could stop her.
By the time they returned to the motel, Katrina and Boyd were both tense from constantly keeping an eye out for trouble. Leona, on the other hand was relaxed and very pleased with her purchases.
“I hope you plan to pick up those ledgers tomorrow so I can get you to a safe house near Washington,” Boyd said in a tone that warned her of dire consequences if she didn't.
“We'll get them soon,” she promised. “Now turn around. I'm tired and I want to get changed for bed.”
With his back to Leona, Boyd looked at Katrina, impatience written on his face.
Knowing it was futile but wanting to prove to Boyd that she was trying to cooperate, she said, “Aunt Leona, it really isn't safe to keep running around the country so openly.”
Leona turned and smiled at her. “I'm sure you'll do an excellent job protecting me.” Then climbing into bed, she went to sleep.
Katrina gave Boyd a look that said she'd done all she could, then headed into the bathroom to take a shower.
Â
While they ate breakfast the next morning, Leona pulled some brochures out of her purse. “I want to tour these old plantation houses,” she said.
Boyd frowned at her. “I really don't think that sight-seeing is a wise pastime.”
“This could be my only chance. It's something I've always wanted to do and I insist upon doing it.”
Boyd groaned.
“Really, Aunt Leona, I don't think this is such a good idea,” Katrina protested.
Leona smiled at her. “Don't you remember how we always planned to take a trip down here but we never got to. Now don't fret. Everything is going to turn out just fine.”
“Overconfidence has been the downfall of many a man,” Boyd warned.
Leona simply smiled at him, then finished her breakfast.
Â
As they climbed the stairs of the porch at the first plantation house, Leona said with disappointment, “This isn't anything like Tara in
Gone With the Wind
It's just a big, old, white frame house.”
Katrina barely heard her aunt's complaint. She was experiencing an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She glanced around. The only people she saw other than them was a group of elderly ladies. Entering the house, they began the tour on the lower level. Katrina's uneasiness grew. Flashes of memory began to dart through her mind. When the guide paused at the door of the downstairs parlor, vivid images began to emerge. Terror threatened to overwhelm Katrina. “I have to get out of here,” she mumbled and fled from the house.