Summer Kisses (198 page)

Sandro was alarmed. “Do you need a
dottore
?”

“Daniele. They took our little Daniele.”

Sandro gently squeezed his uncle’s hand. “I will get him back,
Zio
. I promise you. I will get him back.”

“Wake up,
Bella
.”

“Hm?” Nia fought against the voice urging her from the sweet escape of sleep.

“You see, I told you she is so tired.”

“You are very generous, Angie, since she tried to take you out with a flower vase.”

The new voice snapped her eyes open. How could she have slept in that damned chair—hands and feet bound, even if her feet were propped up on the desk?

“I would have done no less in her position.”

“More likely, you’d have killed the person. Ah, now she’s awake.”

Nia eyed Carlo warily. He was dressed in an Italian designer suit, same as Angie. Instead of a tie, Carlo wore his pale blue shirt with the top button open to expose a gold cross necklace resting in his dark chest hairs. Trimmer than Angie, Carlo had a hard-edge, air-of-vanity around him.

“Good evening,
Signora
Crocetti.” His voice was heavily accented.

Her voice held contempt. “So, you’ve decided to show your–”

“
Bella.
”

She shot Angie a look. Caught the pleading in his eyes. Carlo must truly be powerful to make a big man like Angie so nervous. She bit back her insults.

“She looks worse than you, Angie.”

“I told you Mikey roughed her up good.”

“Dear cousin Mikey. I told him she was a guest. But no manners. That side of the family always was a rude bunch.”

“Rude?” Nia burst out angrily, drawing Carlo’s attention back to her. She couldn’t hold her tongue as Angie cautioned. Too much had happened. “You call what Mikey did to me rude? Untie me for five minutes, and I’ll show you rude.”

“
Bella
!”

Carlo waved Angie off. “I’ve already seen some of your handiwork,” he said to her nodding toward Angelo. “And I was told you broke Mikey’s wrist. I believe I will pass on a sample for myself.”

“I’m glad his wrist is broken,” she said. “If I see him again, I’ll break his head.”

“She is very good at breaking heads,” Angie commented rubbing his, obviously trying to dispel the palpable tension.

Carlo smiled. “Too late for you to have the pleasure, I’m afraid.”

He could mean one of two things. One, that she wouldn’t have a chance to get at Mikey again because she was going to die, or two . . . it was too late because Mikey was already–

“Yes, I see you understand,” Carlo said. “Mikey met with an unfortunate accident. A gun to his head.” He made a gun image with his forefinger and thumb.

That he seemed to read her mind gave her chills. “You had him killed because he beat me up?”

“I had him killed because he didn’t follow my orders.”

The cold grew within her. Just like that, Mikey displeased Carlo, and he was dead. Just like that, a man was an unlucky witness, and he was dead. How many others had been murdered? Would be murdered?

“Man, if you kill all your employees who screw up, your turnover rate must be sky high.” She was really too tired to think of minding her mouth.

Angie made a funny noise, and at a glance, Nia saw him frantically shaking his head at her. But her attention quickly refocused on Carlo who was approaching her. He pulled up a chair before her, diamond and gold rings glittering on his well-manicured fingers. She wondered how much blood was on those fingers.

“
Si, Signora
Crocetti,” he said softly, his flat eyes blinking like a shark. Cold, dead eyes. “Sometimes my turnover rate is sky high as you say. But it’s a peculiar thing, there is always someone waiting to take their place. Ready to follow my every command. And is it for the money? No. It is for the power, the prestige, they get from being a part of the Peruzzo family.”

Nia realized she was dealing with something way outside her realm of existence. Something sinister and evil. These people didn’t have any sense of right and wrong other than what they deemed fell within that realm. How did Sandro, someone so honorable and upstanding, ever get involved with these people?

Worse, would she and Sandro die because of these warped men?

No!

That was defeatist thinking, and she wouldn’t be defeated.

“My mistake,” she said. “I didn’t realize there were so many sleazebuckets in the world.”

Carlo laughed as he stood back up. “Angie, I don’t think she likes us.”

“You can’t blame me, can you? You haven’t exactly rolled out the red carpet for me here.” She tried to lift her tied hands and feet to make her point.

“Ah, you don’t like the bindings? Or is it the surroundings?” He indicated the sparsely furnished office with its bare wood and glass walls and cold concrete floor. “You started out in a nice country house. Who wouldn’t have loved it? But you kept running off, determined not to accept our hospitality. So,
Signora
Crocetti, you can say you brought your circumstances upon yourself.”

“Forgive me if I find your logic skewed.”

Still chuckling, Carlo told Angie, “She is very much like my Marisa,
si
?”

“Who’s Marisa?” Nia played carefully dumb, though she was pretty sure she knew.

He pulled out his wallet, removed a picture. “My daughter.”

Nia kept her face blank, although the picture was clearly of the woman who was with Sandro–

“You know her?” Carlo was as perceptive as ever.

Her instincts screamed that Marisa was somehow helping Sandro. “No, I don’t know her personally,” Nia answered truthfully. “But I’ve seen her at the restaurant.” That much was true as well.

Sandro was a faithful husband. The only reasonable explanation was that Marisa, for whatever reason, was helping him. Surely that gave Sandro an edge to have the Mafia don’s daughter helping him. Nia just had to make certain not to reveal what she knew. Or thought she knew.

Carlo was still probing her with a look that said he wasn’t certain he believed her. She had to change the subject.

“Tell me, since I’m here for this enforced vacation, what do you want from my husband?”

“To talk to him of course.”

“Of course. Ever heard of a telephone?”

Carlo turned to Angie and smiled. “I like her.” He faced her again. “To answer your question, telephones are so impersonal, especially when there’s business to discuss.”

“I can see how a gun wouldn’t reach through the phone lines.”

“You think I want to kill your husband?”

Nia tossed him a phony coy look. “I don’t think you went to all this trouble so you could invite him to dinner.”

“I love your husband like a son. Yet–”

“You’re crazy! I’ve never heard him mention you.”

Carlo’s eyes narrowed. “Now, you are being rude.” He adjusted his suit jacket. “As I said, I loved him and yet he was set to betray me. Of course, if he apologizes, I may forgive him.”

“Betray? Apologize? I’m not following you.”

“We are in business together.”

“Sandro’s not in business with you!”

“Of course he is. With the
ristorante
.”

“No. I was there at the lawyer’s office when all the legal work was done. You have no connections to our restaurant. I know you frequently eat there, but you certainly don’t own part–” She broke off. “Oh, God. You’re laundering money through our restaurant. How?” She shook her head. “That makes no sense. Sandro would never agree.”

“You never know what makes a man say yes, do you?”

“I know Sandro. You must have threatened him somehow . . . threatened us. That’s it, isn’t it? You threatened his family.”

“Threats. Now, that is such an ugly concept,
signora
. I just presented a business proposal that was mutually agreeable to us. He couldn’t refuse.”

Nia felt sick. Worse, her reserve of courage was wearing thin. At the moment, she could see no way out alive. For her or for Sandro.

“
Signora
Crocetti, do not look so sad. I am a fair man. Once Sandro shows himself, I’m sure we can resolve our differences.”

The only resolution she saw was for someone to die. She stiffened her spine. That someone certainly couldn’t be a member of her family.

“There, now you look better. And to show you I’m not heartless, I have brought you a present.”

“Just get this tape off me and keep your present.”

“I will do better. I will loose your bindings, and I will give you your present, too.”

Unease skittered through her stomach. His present couldn’t be good for her. He was too pleased with himself. Sandro! Had they already found him and were just torturing her before they killed them both?

“Angie, get that tape off her. I will return
un attimo
.”

“
Bella
, you are too fearless.” Angie cut through the duct tape on her arms with a wicked-looking pocket knife.

Fearless? She was scared to death. It was only through a supreme effort that every muscle in her body wasn’t visibly shaking.

“You are lucky he is in a good mood,” he continued.

“Angie, he’s going to kill me. Surely you see that? It doesn’t matter what I say to him.”

“No. He said he has you a present.”

“Yes, as warped as he is, I can only imagine. Do you know what it is?”

“No.”

“Probably a .357 Magnum tied up with a pretty bow.”

“I cannot believe that,
Bella
. Carlo is not heartless to kill
la madonna
.”

She rubbed the circulation back into her wrists. “You think being pregnant’s going to keep me alive? No, as soon as Sandro shows himself, Carlo plans to kill me. You know it. I see it in your eyes.”

Angie bent down, concentrating on the tape around her feet. When he finished, she said, “Don’t get in my way next time, Angie. I don’t want to have to hurt you again.”

Looking unhappy, Angie was saved from comment when Carlo’s voice sounded outside the office. He was singing an Italian children’s song.

Nia frowned. “What the–”

Carlo opened the door and entered.

“Oh, God!” Nia’s chest caved in. “Daniele!”

Angie caught her before she rushed Carlo.

She turned on Angie. “Let me go.” She swung at him, kicked at him. Without food all day and with the physical demands she’d put on her body, her blows were weak and ineffectual.

“
Calma, Bella
. Be calm.” Angie wrapped her in a tight bear hug.

The moment he saw her, Danny started screaming for her, squirming in Carlo’s arms.

She strained against Angie’s hold. “He’s got my son.” Hot tears burned her cheeks. “He’s got my son.” Nia lunged, but Angie’s grip remained firm and secure. “Give me my baby, you son of a bitch. Let him go.”

“Really,
Signora
Crocetti. Such language in front of your child. You are upsetting him.”

“I’m not the one upsetting him. Let him go!”

Danny’s screams matched hers as they reached for each other. Tears flowed out of big hazel green eyes that were so much like his father’s.

The pain hit her like fierce blows. “Please,” she whispered, hating herself for begging. “Let me have my son.”

The pleading seemed to please Carlo. “Certainly. I’m a thoughtful man, see? I have brought your Daniele to you.”

His ‘thoughtfulness’ felt like sharp shards of glass piercing her skin. She wondered how Carlo had gotten him, what had happened to the babysitter?

He released Danny. Angie let her go. She sank to her knees to embrace her son. “
Mio bambino, mio bambino
,” she crooned over and over until he quieted and all that was left of his tears were soft little hiccups.

“Such a beautiful picture. Mother and child. Your son looks very much like his father.” He touched Danny’s curly hair.

“Stay away from him,” Nia hissed as she pulled her son protectively closer.

“He could have been my grandson.”

The thought of that man as Danny’s grandfather was too horrible to contemplate.

“Ah, you won’t ask. But I will tell you anyway. Your husband and my daughter were once engaged.”

Another blow. Carlo was a malicious man despite his claims.

“Don’t look so distressed. It was many years ago. He is several years older than you, no?”

His question didn’t need an answer and he continued with his monologue. “She broke off the engagement long before he met you in the United States. Yes,” he said to her shocked look. “I know all about when he met you. How Beppe was your coach. And I know all about your family and where your parents and each of your five brothers live now.”

She felt sick. It was like he was an octopus with tentacles everywhere.

“It is a good thing in my business to know all about my family.”

“We’re not part of your family.”

“Oh,
si, signora
, you are. Are you not here as my guests?”

She stood, pulled Danny into her arms. “Really, I think we’ve imposed enough. We can leave now.”

“Ah . . .” he chuckled again. “You have the sharp wit. Because you must stay with us, I have brought you your son. As long as you behave, he can stay with you. If you continue with your persistence in trying to escape, I will take him from you. You will know nothing about him then.”

She squeezed Danny. Kissed his curls. Tears clogged her throat. She couldn’t lose him.

“I know you must be hungry. I will have food brought to you, a bed. Some toys for Daniele. If you cooperate, your stay will be pleasant.” He stepped toward the door. “If you don’t, remember that I warned you.”

Angie followed Carlo out of the office.

They were alone. She and her little boy. Nia held her son. Just held him. Relishing the warmth and weight of his little body. She hadn’t known if she would ever see him again.

Daniele squirmed. “Momma, you have owie.” He gently patted her bruised face.

“
Si, bambino
. Momma has an owie.” She moved to the desk chair and sat down. “Where have you been, little one?”

“
Zio. Zia
.” He bounced in her lap. “I’ve been with
Zio
and
Zia
.”

“So your aunt and uncle have had you?” She wondered where they were now. She prayed they weren’t hurt when Carlo’s men snatched Daniele, but in the pit of her stomach she feared they were. She’d known Giuseppe and Luciana longer than she’d known Sandro. She knew without a doubt they would fight to the death to protect their family.