A Bullet for Carlos (36 page)

She seemed to stumble with the response, but finally managed to answer. “I run an interior design store for Carlos. I—”

Max stared at her face. “There is something familiar about you,” he said. “Have we met?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Really? I could have sworn…but it doesn’t matter.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. “Take this and call me next week. I might be able to recommend your services.”

She took the card and, after placing it in her purse, she handed him one. “And here is my card, Señor—”

“Call me Max.”

Her smile was inviting. “Max, then.”

He looked at the card. “Filomena…Uptown.
Now
I know. You run the store…” He snapped his fingers while trying to think of the name.

“A Taste of Barcelona,” she said.

“That’s it. I was there about a year ago, and, if I remember, you were quite rude to me.”

“That would be impossible, señor. I would never treat a customer rudely.”

Max looked her over. “Perhaps you’re right. Either way, I must stop by and see you sometime.”

“Please do,” Mena said, “but for now I must find Carlos.”

***

I nearly choked as
Tip pulled into the lot, getting in line for the valet parking. “Tip, what am—”

“You’re going to do what undercover cops are supposed to do. Act like a professional.”

His words hit hard. This was a job and I was acting like an amateur. “Sorry, Tip. I haven’t been dressed up like this in forever. Actually, never.”

“I don’t do this every weekend either.”

Valet parking took the car, helping me out of the door and waiting until Tip came around. By the time we got to the entrance, my knees were shaking and my heart pounding. The couple in front of us were decked out; him in a tux, and her in what was probably a designer gown, but I wouldn’t recognize one unless it had a sign announcing it. This was a different world.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see a distinguished older couple.

“Excuse me, dear,” the woman said, “I just wanted to say how lovely you look. I adore that dress.”

I blushed, lowering my head. “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say.” I reached out to take her hand. “It should be a nice evening.”

She wrapped her hands around mine. “That is precisely what I was telling Charles. Virginia always brings out the best people.”

I didn’t know what to say. “Yes, she does,” I said, then turned when Tip gently tugged on my arm. I reached up to kiss his cheek, whispering “thanks” as I did.

Within moments we were inside. A lovely woman and a gorgeous hunk of a man approached. I stared, not caring who noticed. The woman wore a red gown that either God or Valentino had made just for her, and the man looked just as good in his black tux. I could not take my eyes from him.

Tip leaned toward me and whispered. “Want me to take his pants off so you can get a better look?”

I felt my entire face go crimson. “I’m sorry, Tip. I…never mind.” I grabbed Tip’s hand and somehow made the final few steps without fainting or gasping.

The woman reached her hand out first to Tip, a curious look on her face. “It is so good to see you again…”

“Tip Denton. We met before, but it’s been a long time. I was at the cancer fund-raiser with Elena.”

The woman grabbed his hand with both of hers, laughing as she did. “Of course, how could I forget. You are a detective if I recall. I hope you aren’t here to arrest me.”

Next she focused on me, smiling sweetly as she reached for my hand. “And look at you, dear. My you’re beautiful. I know we haven’t met, or I would have remembered. I’m Virginia Maxwell, and this,” she pointed to the man at her side, “is Geoffrey, my husband.”

I almost laughed when she introduced
Geoffrey
, recalling Elena’s description, but I managed a normal smile and took her hand. “Connie Gianelli.”

“Such a nice name,” Virginia said, then moved on to someone else.

Geoffrey, though, took my hand and held it, perhaps a little longer than he should have, or was it me just wishing that. Goosebumps ran up my back.

“Connie Gianelli, what a beautiful name. Italian isn’t it?”

His voice fit his looks, but before I let my body take over my mind, I remembered what Elena said about him thinking he’s a charmer. “It’s nice to hear someone say Italian instead of ‘Eye-talian.’”

Maxwell leaned his head back a little as he laughed, but it wasn’t real, not like the laugh Uncle Zeppe had. This was staged for my sake. “I grew up near Pittsburgh so we were surrounded by them,” he said, and reached a hand out to touch my arm. “Listen to me, saying ‘them.’ Forgive me, Connie, that’s my Irish upbringing coming out.”

“Maxwell doesn’t sound Irish.”

“It’s not. My grandfather swears it’s Scottish, but my grandmother says it is pure English, and dating back to God knows when.” He grabbed two glasses of wine from a tray loaded with them and handed one to me. “I assume you like red wine.”

Maxwell sipped his wine. His smile was mesmerizing and his eyes wouldn’t let go of me. I almost felt like squirming, or melting—but I was here for Carlos. Busting Carlos would save my reputation and
no
man, not even this one, was worth that. Just then a cold, commanding voice came from behind.

“Geoffrey, we have more guests arriving.”

Maxwell raised his eyebrows and grinned, then he patted my arm and whispered. “We’ll talk more.”

I joined Tip, who seemed mesmerized himself by a woman in a white, strapless gown with a black bow at the top and as much jewelry around her neck as Virginia. Dark hair tickled her shoulders and her skin was a perfect light chocolate. I don’t know why, but I felt like grabbing hold of Tip’s arm and snuggling up close to him and saying something wise, but I opted for a simple introduction. “Hi, I’m Connie Gianelli.”

She immediately took my hand in a firm handshake. “So nice to meet you. I am Filomena Santiago, but my friends call me Mena.”

The woman smiled showing white pearls for teeth and a voice that I felt certain had been stolen from the Sirens of Greek Mythology. It was husky, inviting, and with a hint of Spanish or Italian, a combination that many men found irresistible. I almost felt sorry for Tip, being stuck here with plain old Connie Gianelli.

The scar on Tip’s face twitched when he smiled. “Who’s the lucky Mr. Santiago?”

Mena laughed. I almost did too. Tip had the worst lines.

Mena turned and pointed to a handsome man mingling with a group of ladies. “I came with Señor Cortes.”

Tip handled the situation well, lowering his drink as he reached for me. He must have figured I wouldn’t handle it well. “We’ll have to get introduced later,” Tip said. “Right now, Connie and I need to see someone.” He bowed. “If you’ll excuse us, Mena.”

“Of course. We’ll speak again, I’m sure.”

Tip had to almost drag me across the floor, and the whole time my head was turned to Carlos, flashing glares. “Don’t get worked up, Gianelli. Control yourself.”

“Do you see that bastard?”

“Of course I see him, but you knew he’d be here. That’s why we came.”

“I know but I didn’t…”

“Didn’t what?”

“Didn’t expect him to be so smug. Acting as if he belongs with decent people.” A waiter walked by, and I grabbed two drinks. “
Look
at him.”

Tip looked around. “Do you know where the rest rooms are?”

I pointed with my chin. “That sign says they’re down the hall.”

He started to leave, then turned back. “Stay here, and don’t do anything stupid.”

“You sound like you’re talking to Flash.”

“If that’s the case then don’t shit on the floor either.”

That made me laugh, and for a moment I lost thought of Carlos. Tip hadn’t gotten halfway there when Jeff Maxwell came up to me.

“Hello again, Ms. Gianelli.”

I put on my best smile, but all I could think about was Carlos. “Hello yourself.”

“Are you having fun yet?”

“This is wonderful.”

His raised eyebrows said he didn’t believe me. “Really?”

“No, not really. I’m so out of place that I can’t stand it.”

His reaction was exactly what I figured—that warm, friendly laugh where his chin lifted and his head rolled back. “I couldn’t agree more. If only we could whisk out of here and find something exciting to do.”

“Like what? Tell me what excites Jeff Maxwell.”

“Ah, let’s see…” he pondered, then pointed a finger at me as if he had a revelation. “A walk on the beach,” he said. “At midnight.”

He had somehow moved closer to me during this brief exchange. This guy was so full of shit, and, even though I
knew
that, I was still attracted to him. “With a full moon,” I added. “And sweaters wrapped around us.”

A woman’s laughter came from behind me. Before I could turn, Virginia Maxwell appeared. “‘Around us?’ Oh dear, Connie, I hope Geoffrey hasn’t been using his ‘walk on the beach’ line with you.”

I laughed with her, but only to hide my humiliation. “It
is
a good line.”

“Indeed it is. He managed to hook me with it.” She placed her hand on Maxwell’s arm and smiled. “The George’s just arrived. Come and say hello.”

As they were leaving, Tip grabbed me from behind. “And just when you were getting cozy.”

I elbowed him. “Cut the shit. Let’s go see the reason we came here.”

“I’m right behind you.”

“Damn chivalrous of you, but let me go alone.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Signal if you get in trouble.”

I meandered to where Carlos was, stopping to chat with a few people along the way, and grabbing another glass of wine before reaching him. I waited in the wings while he chatted with some older ladies, but the whole time his eyes kept darting to me with a hungry look. Before long he made his excuses to the others and turned to me.

His smile and charm were undeniable, and his English had just the right amount of accent. “Good evening,” he said, with a slight bow and an extended hand. “Carlos Cortes.”

“So nice to meet you,” I said, trying hard to keep my smile. “Connie Gianelli.”

I was positive he knew who I was, and I thought he might stumble when he heard the name. But he handled it as if I were anyone else.

“A pleasure, señorita. You look magnificent.” His eyes glittered when he said it, almost as if he meant it.
Almost.

“Thank you. I met Mena. What a gorgeous woman.”

Carlos turned to look at Mena, and he let his gaze linger. “Mena is
so
beautiful…she must get tired of people telling her.”

“Mr. Cortes, I don’t know that
any
woman would get tired of hearing that.”

“I detect an accent, señorita. You are not from here. New York, perhaps?”

“Very good,” I said. “Brooklyn.”

“And what brings you to the great state of Texas?”

“The same thing that brings everyone else—weather, friendly people.”

“The people
are
friendly here,” Carlos said. “Did you know Texas meant “friends” in the language of the Texas Indian tribes?”

I caught a glimpse of Mena heading in our direction. That ticked me off. I was hoping to get inside Carlos’ head. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“There you are,” Mena said, and she gave Carlos a peck on the cheek as she took his arm. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Carlos nodded to me. “Duty calls, señorita. Perhaps we shall meet again.”

“I’m sure we will.”

As he turned to go, he said, “Have a safe trip home to the Bronx.”

“It’s Brooklyn.”

Carlos stopped, and smiled. It was the kind of smile that held a thousand words. “My mistake, señorita. Of course it’s Brooklyn. I remember you telling me.”

Tip had come up behind me as Carlos was leaving.

“Hope I didn’t miss all the fireworks.”

“No fireworks. Just two old friends talking.”

“What was all that about the Bronx?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you later.”

We mingled for another hour or so, then said goodnight to Virginia and congratulated her for organizing such a wonderful event. On the way out the door, Tip said, “Did we get anything accomplished?”

“That depends on how you look at it. Carlos mentioned me going home to the Bronx. I grew up in the Bronx and he would have no way of knowing that unless he was digging into my background, which means he knows who I am. And I’m pretty sure he was surprised to see me in Texas, though he covered it well.”

“So the bottom line is, we let him know you’re in Texas and we didn’t get shit on him.”

I thought about it. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“Damn, we did good.”

“Shut up and drive, Denton.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Chapter 44

A Long Ride Home

C
arlos stayed the appropriate amount of time, every minute seeming like an eternity. After almost an hour of idle chatting, he set out to find Mena. She was talking to Jeff Maxwell. Carlos joined the conversation, but after a few minutes he looked at his watch and whispered to Mena. “As much as I regret it, my dear, we must be going.”

She stayed alongside him while he made his rounds. When he got to Virginia, he kissed her hand, apologizing profusely for his early departure. “We will see you again.”