Authors: Penny McCall
“You left out her measurements.”
“You can ask Eric. She used to supply my shop with candles before she started supplying Eric with herself.”
“And neither of them felt a need to let you in on their extracurricular activities,” Daniel interpreted.
“Brilliant deduction, Ace. I sent Eric packing, and then I invited Heather to go with him.”
“And you think she’d be willing to help you now?”
“We don’t have much choice,” Vivi said, her eyes trained on the street corner behind Daniel.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw the front hood of a cop car, the light bar just coming into view as it rounded the corner and started in their direction. Vivi couldn’t possibly have seen it coming, but she didn’t resist when Daniel pulled her through Heather’s front door.
He almost went back out. The place reeked. The scent of flowers made the air so heavy there was barely room for oxygen. He went light-headed before he realized he was holding his breath. He let it out, deciding there were advantages to being a mouth breather.
“Um, there’s something else you might want to know about Heather,” Vivi said. “She has this thing about competition.”
Daniel wondered what she meant, but that was before Heather appeared out of the back. She glanced at Vivi, took in the fact that Daniel was standing well within her personal space, and oozed across the room to drape herself over him. “Most people settle for a handshake,” he said, prying himself loose.
“I’m not most people,” Heather informed him. “I’m friendlier.”
“Only when it comes to men,” Vivi put in. “I thought you were dating Eric.”
“On and off,” Heather said, but her eyes stayed on Daniel. So did her hands, and one of them was drifting down his chest, heading for his crotch.
Daniel caught Heather’s wrist before she discovered whether he dressed right or left.
Vivi smiled. At first he thought it was because he’d refused to let an attractive woman grope him to prove a point. Really it was the knock at the door, which clearly Vivi had been expecting. “Cranston?” he asked her.
She nodded.
“Who’s Cranston?” Heather wanted to know.
“Just this cop who’s following me around,” Vivi said. “He asked me out a couple times, and he’s having trouble taking no for an answer.”
“Uniform cop?”
“Answer the door and find out.”
Heather made a beeline for the uniform. Daniel and Vivi went in the opposite direction, up the narrow stairs that led to the second floor. They’d barely gotten out of sight before they heard Cranston’s voice wanting to know if Heather had seen a man and a woman.
“Besides us?” Heather asked before he could get into descriptions.
Hand-dipped candles were hanging everywhere at the top of the stairs. Daniel, busy looking over his shoulder, blundered into them, setting them swinging and clattering together.
“What’s that?” Cranston asked, the last syllable coming out as a yelp—Heather checking what Cranston had downstairs, presumably. “That could be construed as assaulting an officer.”
“That’s not assault,” Heather said, “this is.”
“Hey!” There was some more crashing around downstairs, and then Cranston said, “I’m going upstairs,” adding reluctantly, “if that’s all right with you.”
“He can’t come up here if she doesn’t give him permission,” Daniel whispered.
“She could be persuaded.”
Sure enough, Heather’s response was, “You can go upstairs if you promise to check out the bedroom first.”
“Shit,” Daniel said under his breath.
There were three doors leading off the small landing at the top of the stairs. Daniel could have pulled Vivi through any one of them and been completely out of sight, but then they’d be trapped in a second-story room with no way out, except in Officer Cranston’s custody—protective in Daniel’s case.
Vivi would probably have to go the mug shot, fingerprint, cavity search route. The Boston P.D. really had no reason to hold her, but there was no doubt in Daniel’s mind that Cranston would find something to charge her with before he was forced to cut her loose. And Daniel didn’t like the thought of Vivi being released without him around. The hit men knew who she was now, and she’d be a sitting duck.
He took a quick look around, nudging her into a tiny nook in one corner of the landing, then cramming himself in beside her.
“What are you doing?” Vivi said.
“We can’t go into the bedrooms. Heather’ll take Cranston in one of them . . .”
Daniel looked down at her and suddenly the bedroom sounded pretty good to Vivi. Then again, who needed a bed? The wall seemed to be just as good, especially when he braced his hands on either side of her head and leaned against her.
She pushed back, tried to put some space between them. He let her, but she knew what he was thinking. She was thinking it, too, but kissing Daniel was dangerous, even if it was just his mouth on hers . . . His hands slid down the wall, he gathered her against him, and her system took a second punch.
He hooked a hand behind her knee and lifted her leg up along his hip, pressing into her at the same time. Her head spun, her stomach spun, parts of her were tingling, parts were burning, and all the parts wanted more. Right now, bed or no bed.
“It’s awfully quiet up there.”
They broke apart, guilty, chests heaving, Daniel reachingfor his duffel and the gun inside before it sank in that it was Heather’s voice they’d heard.
“Either you guys learned how to fly,” she called out, “or there’s something else going on.”
Their eyes met, held, and it was like the kiss had never ended. Vivi could still feel his hands on her, still taste him. She ran her tongue over her lips, his eyes dropped to her mouth, and she braced herself. But he only took her by the hand and pulled her to the top of the staircase. He let her go before they made it down more than a couple of steps, but Vivi knew it wasn’t over.
Neither of them was going to walk away from what they’d started.
IT WAS EASY TO GIVE CRANSTON THE SLIP. THEY called in a mugging down the street and he had to respond since he was the closest radio car. Vivi figured they’d head back to the apartment, maybe pick up where they’d left off. She hadn’t counted on Daniel’s ability to compartmentalize. Or his reluctance to take their relationship to another level.
She ought to be feeling reluctant herself. What she felt was frustration. A lot of frustration. She’d would’ve liked to take it out on Daniel. Several times. But she’d be damned if she gave him the satisfaction of knowing she wanted him that desperately. Besides, he’d probably reject her. Damned self-control, she thought, glaring at him.
“Now what did I do?” he wanted to know, sounding as cranky as she felt.
“Nothing.”
He gave her a look, anger with a little smolder around the edges.
“Just walk,” she said, “back there.” And she took off, making sure she was a couple of paces ahead of him because the last thing she needed was to see any part of him.
They were on their way to the nearest name on Daniel’s list, and walking a couple of miles in the late-afternoon sunshine didn’t exactly cool her off. It didn’t help when he pulled her to a stop and bent his head next to hers. She turned her face to his, her breath wheezing out on a sigh as she waited, hoping . . .
It took her a minute to realize he was speaking, and then another few seconds for his words to batter their way through her disappointment.
“That’s Dominic Furillo,” he said, gesturing to a hot dog vendor just down the sidewalk from where they were standing. “He was charged with money laundering.”
“Charged?” Vivi asked, turning her attention to the criminal, a much safer subject. Her body wasn’t as quick to make the adjustment, but she figured a slow simmer was the best she could hope for anyway.
“Tried and acquitted,” Daniel said. “He used to own a successful high-end restaurant, but he lost it to legal fees. My guess is he can’t get a loan, so he’s working his way up from the bottom.”
“If he doesn’t have enough money to open a restaurant, what makes you think he could hire hit men?”
“Suppose you go find out.”
Vivi rolled her shoulders to work out the knots. She started for the cart, half turning before she’d gone two steps.
“Don’t worry,” Daniel said, “I won’t take my eyes off you.”
“That might be comforting if they weren’t on my ass,” she said.
He lifted his gaze a foot or so, grinning unrepentantly.
“Not better,” Vivi said, heading off again to play inquisitor, which wasn’t easy when all she could think about was Daniel watching her.
She made it to the cart before she’d come up with a way to get the information she needed. So she did what seemed natural and ordered two hot dogs, loaded. He started building them and her mouth began to water. “Smells amazing,” she said, and then she looked fully into Dominic Furillo’s face for the first time and felt a little tick of recognition, like a puzzle piece falling into place in her brain. “Didn’t you used to own your own restaurant?” she asked him. “That place in the Leather District.”
“Dominic’s.”
“Yeah. That was a great place . . .” She looked at the cart, then back at him, and she could see he was guessing pretty accurately at the direction of her thoughts. “You don’t seem too broken up about being here instead of there,” she said, senses wide open and not getting any regret or unhappiness, or animosity toward anyone for being in this situation.
“Shit happens,” he said with a shrug, handing her the hot dogs wrapped in foil and sitting on a cardboard tray.
She picked one up and took a bite—mostly because he seemed to expect it—and then she closed her eyes and let all the various flavors mingle in her mouth. It was all she could do not to moan in ecstasy and not just because her stomach was happy to be getting sustenance. “This is incredible,” she said around a second mouthful.
Dominic grinned full out. “It is, isn’t it? You know, three years ago I would have told you I’d rather be dead than wind up here. But I think if I’d stayed where I was, running my restaurant and obsessing about being at the top of the game, I would have had a heart attack and I’d be dead right now.”
Or the guys he’d been laundering money for would have killed him. Seen in that light, Daniel had done him a favor, because the mob wouldn’t touch him now.
“Well,” Vivi said, handing him a ten-dollar bill, which was all she had on her. “If you want my opinion, this is where you belong.” She raised her hot dog in a sort of salute and headed back to Daniel.
She got a flash halfway there; her sixth sense was talking again, shouting more like. And what it shouted was “Run.” Not a good idea, she decided, since running would be like painting a big red target on her back.
She picked up her pace, hustling around the corner only to discover the jig was up.
“Feds,” Daniel said as soon as she’d joined him. “One’s by the hot dog vendor, the other is over there.” He pointed to a spot across the street.
Both of the guys were watching them. Otherwise they were going unnoticed by the crowd, casually dressed, appearing to be sightseeing or taking a break in the shade.
“They don’t have cover stories, and they’re not having any trouble blending in.”
“I didn’t have any trouble picking them out,” Daniel said.
“Me neither, considering one of those guys isn’t exactly a stranger to me.”
“Mike put him on you?”
“And I gave him coffee.”
“Shit,” Daniel said, which seemed to sum up their predicament pretty well.
“What do we do?”
“Lose ’em. But they’re not going to be as easy to shake as Officer Cranston.” Daniel took a bite of his hot dog and added, “Damn, this is good. Too bad we don’t have time to eat,” and he plucked Vivi’s out of her hand and tossed them both in a nearby trash can.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he said when he caught the look on her face.
“It’ll have to be something pretty amazing to make up for that hot dog.”
“I think I can manage that.”
Yeah, Vivi thought to herself, he could probably manage that. He could probably ruin her forever for all other hot dogs.