Summer Kisses (204 page)

“I need to talk to you.”

“So talk.”

“Not out here in the hall. Open the door.”

She glanced sideways. “What do you want?”

Luigi suspected that Dave was right there with her, listening. “We need to talk.”

“Now’s not a good time,” she said.

“That’s too bad. Open up.” He wanted her where he could grab her; he wasn’t stupid enough to just waltz inside her apartment and let Dave ambush him.

She shut the door to release the chain. Unfortunately, at the same moment, security chose to act. A guard came up, his hand hovering over his holster. “Excuse me, sir. Is there a problem?”

Luigi shook his head. “Took you long enough.”

“Oh, Mr. Conte, it’s you.” He relaxed his gun hand. “This was a test?”

“You can consider it a test, yes. You were too slow. You’re going to have to work on it.”

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s just so rare that we have any problems.”

“You get paid to take care of problems. I suggest you practice.”

“You’re right, sir, we’ll do that.”

Marisa watched through the crack in her door.

“Open up, Marisa,” Luigi said as the guard left. “Let me in.”

She opened the door a little more. “I don’t know why you didn’t call.”

“I did call. There was no answer. I’ve had my men watching the place until you returned.” Before she could turn and re-enter her apartment, he grabbed her arm and jerked her toward him. “I know Dave Armstrong is here with you.” He spun her around, wrapping his arm around her neck to shield his way into the apartment. Once he got rid of Dave, he could find out what was going on, talk her out of this craziness.

“Luigi, what are you doing? There’s no one here with me.”

“We’ll just see about that.” Luigi pulled his gun free then kicked the door wide open with his foot. He pushed his gun under her chin and forced her to walk forward.

As he expected, Dave stood inside the entrance, his gun pointed at them. “Drop it,” he ordered.

“So there’s no one here, huh, Marisa?” Luigi said in her ear. “Drop your gun, Agent Armstrong. You don’t want nothing to happen to this pretty lady here.”

“You won’t hurt her,” Dave said, not lowering his gun. “You’re planning on marrying her. She’s your ticket to step into Carlo’s shoes.”

Luigi’s eyes narrowed. “Did you go snooping and find that ring I got you?”

She gasped. “I didn’t–”

“Don’t blame her. You forget, we’re always listening. I heard you tell Carlo you planned to ask her to marry you. Got the big guy’s nod of approval. Pretty smart of you.”

Dave sounded smug, but underneath it all Luigi sensed a rage in the FBI man. An anger provoked by jealousy perhaps?

Luigi decided to test his theory. “There are worse ways of getting to the top. It’s been no hardship to take her to my bed.” He moved his hand from her neck downward to slip inside her open jacket and grope her breast.

Marisa gasped but otherwise stayed still, apparently all too aware that his gun was still shoved into her neck.

As Luigi suspected, his actions made Dave livid. His face, set in rigid lines, flushed a dark red while his narrowed eyes promised certain retaliation. So, if Dave hadn’t fucked her already, he definitely wanted her.

Luigi controlled the rage that thought caused. “You’re right though. I’m not going to shoot her. I’ll punish her my own way later.” He pointed his gun at Dave. “After you’re out of the way.”

“Are you crazy?” Marisa screeched, more out of control than he’d ever heard her. “He’s a federal agent, you can’t shoot him.”

Luigi chuckled. “You’re not so innocent that you don’t realize people disappear all the time. Even feebies. After today, no one will see Agent Armstrong again.” Luigi’s finger tightened on the trigger.

“No!” In a sudden surprise move, Marisa rammed her elbow into his gut and slung her hand to knock his gun arm aside.

The gun went off with a deafening bang, but the bullet zinged harmlessly past Dave. Before Luigi could recover, Marisa brought her clenched hands down on his wrist, making his fingers go numb. The gun dropped and she kicked it hard, sending it sliding under her sofa.

“You fucking whore!” Luigi grabbed for her.

She spun out of the way.

Dave attacked him then. Slammed him into the wall.

Fury gave Luigi strength. He slugged Dave twice in the stomach. Though it was at close range, it was with enough force to make Dave gasp and stumble backward. Luigi advanced.

For a moment, indecision held Marisa immobile. She couldn’t risk letting the fight play out and hope Dave won the battle. Too much was at stake.

Luigi must have realized it, too, for he was fighting like a wild man.

Frantically, heart thundering in her ears, Marisa’s gaze searched her apartment for a weapon. Luigi’s gun was under the sofa and she had no idea where Dave had put his gun.

Dio
, why did Dave have to attack with his hands? Why couldn’t he have just shot Luigi? Some sort of man thing she was certain, having sensed his rage when Luigi was fondling her.

At last her gaze landed on a small statue of Atlas holding up the world. It was small, not over a foot tall, but it was solid marble. It would have to do.

She snatched it up and brought it down on Luigi’s head with such force the statue’s arms broke off and the world dropped and rolled across the floor.

Luigi fell to the floor, out cold.

The only sound in the apartment was Dave’s heavy breathing—and Marisa’s thudding heartbeat. Dave looked at Luigi on the floor in front of him, then at her.

“Damn, don’t you do anything like that again,” he gasped.

“Like what? Saving your life?”

“Like being taken hostage in the first place. I told you to let him come into the apartment.”

“Dave, he knew you were here. His men are watching the place, he showed up not long after us. He wasn’t going to come in unless I let him use me as a hostage.”

“When I saw that gun at your throat, I just–”

Marisa laid a hand on his arm. “I’m used to taking care of myself.”

He pulled her into his embrace and squeezed her tight. “I know you are. You took care of me, too. Even though it wasn’t necessary.”

“Ungrateful man, he was going to shoot you,” she murmured against his chest.

“Look at me.”

She looked up and saw unfamiliar emotions swimming in his eyes. Her heart fluttered in her throat. “Dave?”

“Thank you.” He kissed her forehead then rested his head against hers for a few calming moments. Finally, he spoke again. “I better check on Luigi.”

“I think I killed him.” She shuddered, looking at the unconscious man on her floor.

Dave moved her gently aside and knelt on the floor to check her former lover. He laid his fingers on Luigi’s throat. “There’s a pulse.”

“Thank goodness,” she breathed. “I wouldn’t want to go on trial for murder.” She cringed. “Oh, that sounds cold.”

“Hey, he brought it on himself. It would’ve been self-defense.” Dave looked up at her, then back at Luigi. “He must have a damned hard head considering you broke this piece of marble–” Dave picked up the statue and his eyes widened. “This guy is damn near naked.”

“Don’t say it as if it’s pornography.” She took the statue from him and clutched it to her chest. “This is art. It’s a statue of Atlas. Zeus made him hold up the world as punishment for supporting Cronus in a rebellion. I like him very much.”

“And do you like him because it symbolizes your life?” Dave stood and walked to her. “Do you feel like you hold the world on your shoulders?”

She smiled faintly, but didn’t answer.

“We need to do something with Luigi. He complicates things.” Dave sighed. “We should’ve never come here in the first place.”

“Don’t you dare say I told you so. There was no choice. There are things here I need.”

“I don’t know what the hell you need so bad that you would risk–”

“You don’t need to know, so don’t ask.”

With lips clamped tightly together, Dave chose to focus on Luigi. “I’ve got handcuffs, but I want him tied in a chair until I can get someone here to pick him up.” Dave pulled his cuffs out of his jacket that was lying across the sofa and snapped them onto Luigi’s wrists.

The cuffs made Luigi look like a prisoner. Like she was a prisoner. Had always been a prisoner. “I don’t have any rope–” Her voice trembled as delayed reaction set in. This whole ordeal was more nerve wracking than she planned and she was very close to losing it.

“Perhaps chains? A whip?”

With a boyish grin on Dave’s face, Marisa realized he was joking with her, trying to calm her. She attempted a smile of her own but it faded away. “Fresh out of chains. Sorry.”

“Stay with me a minute, Princess. There has to be something.” His gaze scanned the room. He got up and walked to her computer center. “Maybe some of these wires. This wire looks perfect if there’s enough–”

“Wait! Don’t mess with my cords.” She went to the front closet. “There’s some extra wire left from when I had another phone line installed. Of course now I have cable internet and don’t need two phone lines. But the wire is still here.” She pulled out a small roll of gray wire.

Dave nodded. “Handy.” He went back to Luigi. “Help me get him into a chair. Bring one of those dining table chairs. I don’t think there’s enough wire to tie him into one of these fancy wing chairs of yours.”

Marisa brought the chair, then struggled to help Dave lift and settle Luigi’s dead weight into it. She held Luigi while Dave wrapped the wire around him several times, securing him to the chair. Luigi’s head slumped forward.

“He looks uncomfortable,” she said.

“He’s going to be more than uncomfortable when he wakes up with that knot you put on his head.”

Marisa fingered the knot and cringed. Luigi had never been anything but good to her. Even if he was her father’s right hand man.

“I’ll call for back up now.” He had just pulled out his phone when it rang. They both jumped. He recovered and answered, “Armstrong.” He listened. “Shit, how bad is he?”

How bad was who? Marisa wondered. Sandro? Her heart sputtered. She prayed her father hadn’t caught up with Sandro.

“Everything else went okay, then?”

Marisa relaxed a little. Even if Sandro had been injured, it couldn’t be bad.

“Listen, I’ve got a pick-up for you at Midnight. Yeah, Mr. Right-Hand man himself.”

“Wait, Dave.” She tugged on his arm.

He paused to look at her.

“Don’t forget about Luigi’s men watching the place.”

“Oh, that’s right. On second thought there might be a problem here,” Dave said. “There are some old friends visiting who need to go home now. Yeah, both exits at least. You think you can make them? You’ll take care of it then?” Dave nodded. “Okay, call me back as soon as it’s clear.” He punched the button to disconnect.

“Who was hurt?” she asked.

“Frankie.”

“Is it bad?”

“Not too bad. A shoulder wound.”

“And Sandro?”

“He got away just as planned.”

That was good, right? It was okay to feel relieved, she told herself. Everything was working as planned. Well, except for the little glitch with Luigi. But now he was contained. She pulled off her jacket and collapsed on the sofa. “Guess we’ll be waiting here for a while.”

“I’ll call Sandro and see what he has to say,” Dave said, pulling up the number. When Sandro answered, Dave said, “Are you safe?” A pause. Then, “How’d it go?” Dave listened for a few moments, had several more questions and suggestions for Sandro before he glanced at his watch and ended the call with, “We’ll see you before then.”

“Before when?” Marisa asked as Dave slid his phone into his jacket pocket.

“Sandro is giving your father a chance to call the banks to check on his now non-existent accounts. Only trouble is, the banks don’t open for another five hours.”

“How is Sandro holding up?”

“Better than I expected considering that Massimo has taken a sudden interest in Nia.”

Marisa sat up straighter and sent Dave a piercing look. “What sort of interest?”

“Mostly bullshit, I think. You know, threatening that he’d be happy to take care of the grieving widow.”

“Oh, no,” Marisa whispered. “Massimo has been infatuated with Nia since he first saw her, but Sandro would never let him close.”

It was Dave’s turn to send her a sharp look. “Infatuated? You don’t think . . .”

Marisa shrugged. “My brother has never been one to deny himself what he wants.”

“Damn.” Dave’s chin sagged toward his chest.

Marisa knew the guilt he must be feeling. The worry Sandro must be feeling. “How is Sandro reacting?”

“Typically,” Dave told her. “I think he’s got your brother’s murder planned right along with your father’s.”

“No!” Marisa blurted. She caught herself before she added,
Massimo belongs to me
. Massimo was the one who planted the bomb. She owed him.

Dave misunderstood her reaction. He knelt in front of her and took her shoulders. “We won’t let your brother or your father die.”

Taking a deep breath, she tried to make Dave understand. “If my brother and my father live, then Sandro and his family will never be safe. No matter where they go.”

“It’s not too late, Marisa. Turn over that information on those accounts and we’ll haul their asses into jail so fast–”

“They won’t stay in jail. My father is very smart, has the best lawyers. You know there’ll be some technicality–”

“We’ve learned a lot of lessons over the years. Many former mob bosses are living out their last years in prison.”

“Even if they go to jail, my father can run the family from his cell. At least for a while, and especially if Luigi and Angie stay loyal. Sandro will still be in danger.”

“Then we need to find a way to limit your father’s power. Possibly have him deported if the Italian authorities were after him–”

“I don’t know how much information the Italians have. We had just gotten rumors that they were starting an investigation. After having seen what they did to the other families, we decided to not risk capture. For all I know, the Italians gave up on investigating us after we left.”