Cold Comfort (29 page)

"I'd build it for the view alone."

"This one has a view." Dismissing it, he rolled the plans and returned them to the box.

Taking her hand, he drew her toward the fire. "Let's sit here for a few minutes and finish the coffee, then go to bed. You've had a rough day." He lifted her cup and set it on the table, then settled into the big chair and pulled Claire onto his lap. "Why don't we go in to Mistletoe for a while in the morning? By now, they won't be expecting you there, and a short visit will relieve your mind and give Will a little time to get an answer on the Committee members."

"Sounds good." She yawned and closed her eyes, rested her head on his shoulder. His strength comforted her. It was so easy to cling and shut out the questions that haunted her, the danger looming over her. She nuzzled the soft spot below his ear, nipped lightly at his ear lobe. His arms closed around her. Maybe she did understand a little of Caroline's feelings.

Riley stood her up and steered her to the bed, where he said goodnight. "I have some things to do. You go on to sleep."

Surprised, she watched him turn out the light and go back in the other room.
Surely he won't be long.
She tried to stay awake.

* * *

She woke in Riley's bed, luxuriated in the warmth under the blankets for a second, then realized the other side hadn't been disturbed. He'd never come to bed, at least not in here. She sat up, wondering. The big jerk. He was still trying to be noble. There couldn't be any other reason for his staying away from her. She gritted her teeth and left the cozy nest under the covers to dress. Through the door, she saw Riley's long legs stretched in front of the chair. What a waste. Why couldn't she feel like this about Hal Beck? She bet he wouldn't leave her alone. Or Lloyd Littlejohn. He would have been a good match for her
—
their lifestyles were compatible, they were comfortable together.... But he wasn't Riley.

She knew there'd be no happily ever after for her and Riley, but she wanted all she could have of him for the short time he'd be around. It would have to last a long, long time.

* * *

Riley went out to warm the car before she finished her coffee. "Let's go. Somehow I can't picture Fortunato up early on a cold morning, but I want to be out of the store before noon."

They drove in silence. Claire squinted at the sky, wondering how long it would be before the next storm hit. The shoppers hadn't arrived yet, and Riley whipped into a parking slot close to the shop. She missed being there, missed her structured life.

"You'd better make this a quick visit," Mary said when they entered. "A new customer showed up yesterday, and I don't think he wanted fancy ornaments." A wry smile touched her lips. "He did get sidetracked by the train though. He stood watching it for several minutes, then seemed to remember where he was and started looking around, but not at the merchandise."

"Not one of the guys here before?" Riley glanced out the window, checking the street.

"Nope. I'd never seen this one, but he had the same look
—
kind of rough and intimidating."

"Did he threaten you?" Claire caught Mary's arm. "Did you call the police?"

"What for? What would I say? He didn't do anything." She patted Claire's hand. "We're all right, honey. I just didn't like him. He could've been a harmless customer."

"Describe him," Riley said.

"Blond curly hair, going gray. Blue eyes, reddish complexion. Not much taller than I am but stocky. I didn't get too close." She pursed her lips, tilted her head. "He seemed...serious, intent. Not someone I'd want to cross."

"I'll get some mug shots of known Geminelli associates
—
think you'd recognize him?"

"Oh, yes. I won't forget that face for a while."

"I'll send some back with Ray. Damn. They're still watching this place. I'd better get Claire out of here. Can you hold the fort a while longer?"

"Yes, of course, but what's going on? Did you find anything?"

"I'll talk to you later, Mary." Claire let herself be led out the back door. She hadn't even taken off her coat, but if the men found her, Mary and Damien would be in danger, and she couldn't risk it. "Do you really think this man's involved?"

"Probably more hired help. With Fortunato disabled, they would have needed someone." He held out his hand, stopping Claire at the corner of the alley, and watched the street for a minute before hurrying her to the car. "Let's go home."

* * *

"I've got the list of committee members," Riley said above the whine of his printer. He pulled a single sheet of paper from the tray and held it out to Claire. "Are you ready?"

She stared at it. This was it. One of these men had fathered her. She shared his genes, his heritage, but not his name. With a shaking hand, she took the paper and sat down, shutting out her emotions.
It's a business problem, something to be dealt with
. But the cold lump in her stomach stayed. Composing herself, she read the list. "Claude Pepper was the chairman. Oh, no! Elton Burley's the first name on the list." She continued reading aloud. "And of course, Lendon Jeffers, but we know he's not the one. Nolan Jennings. And James Mann. Look, some of the names are marked with an asterisk." She leaned over to show Riley.

"Here it is, at the bottom. The asterisk means 'deceased.'" Riley scanned the list. "That's almost half of them, including Lendon Jeffers. I think we should start with the ones still around."

"Since Jeffers is dead, we might have trouble finding anyone on his staff back then. I'd hoped we could find Sandra, Caroline's roommate. The letters never mentioned her last name." Her spirits dropped once again. How would they find a woman named Sandra from more than thirty years ago? Claire's emotions rose and fell like a yo-yo on a string
—
up when she saw the list, plummeting at Elton Burley's name, up and down, up, down.

"I can probably get the names of most of his staff, at least for the major positions." He returned to the computer and began typing. "But it might take a while to dig them up."

"Can you get the addresses of the members who are still living?" Claire picked up Spike and rubbed her cheek against his soft fur.

"Yes. Let's see if Ray and Mary can meet us for dinner in Newport News. Damien can come too. I'll get those pictures for Mary, and then you all can talk shop."

"All right. I hate being away while it's so busy. Poor Mary." A small part of her mind lingered on the shop, but the names on the list dominated her thoughts. "And I want to make arrangements to go to Washington. I'm going to meet these people and figure this out."

"Sit back down, and I'll see what I can find on their personal lives, see if anything jumps out." He dragged her chair up beside him again and typed the first name into the search engine. "Look at these pictures, Claire. I think he was too old even then, and he doesn't seem all that attractive
—
not enough to lure a twenty-four-year-old woman off the straight and narrow, which is how Caroline strikes me."

"You're probably right. Let's start with the youngest ones
—
and they have to be married."

They quickly narrowed the search.

Riley sorted the names alphabetically and turned to watch her. "Unless there's a fluke in our logic, he's almost certainly one of these three
—
Elton Burley, Nolan Jennings, or David Wurtz."

She held onto the edge of the desk, steadying herself. One of these men. "Can you check their backgrounds? Anything on their personal lives back then? And what's going on with them now that could make one of them so unhappy about me?"
Why would my father, who apparently never knew or cared about my existence, want to kill me now?

"Let's start with Wurtz. He'd been married for six years and had two small children at the time."

"No, not him. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but I can't see Caroline
—
she must have been a lot like Blanche
—
breaking up a family with children." She continued reading the article on the screen. "And it says here he was very friendly with Frank Sinatra and virtually congratulated him after the hearing. Let's put him on the B list. If we don't find any better candidates, we can see what he's doing now."

"You're right. Let's try Burley next." He entered the name and year, pulled up a list of sites, and opened one. "He was the youngest member
—
thirty-three, with Jennings a year older. In 'sixty-nine, Burley married Gina Bellante, Carmine Bellante's youngest daughter. No children."

"Who's Carmine Bellante?"

"An old mobster. I wonder if he ever testified before the committee. He's supposed to be retired, probably late seventies or early eighties now, but he was reputed to be big in the Geminelli crime family. I looked him up before, but I couldn't find anything about his ever being convicted of anything. I'll add him to Will's list to research, especially in connection with Burley."

"If Joey Fortunato works for the Geminellis, maybe it's significant." She curled her lip and shuddered. "I'm not sure I want to know who I am."

"It's the only way to find out what's behind all this. Just think, you might be a Mafia princess."

"No, even Burley's better. And if he's the one
—
" She couldn't think of him as her father. She shut her eyes and shook her head. "But even if he is, I still wouldn't be related to the Bellantes."

Riley saved several articles to a file he titled "Burley" and then moved on to Nolan Jennings. "Here," he said, opening a biography of the senator. "It says
—
uh, oh
—
this is too much of a coincidence. He was married to Marianna Bellante, Carmine's middle daughter, in 'sixty-nine
—
"

"The same year Burley married Gina. They had to know each other outside the Committee and being in Congress together." Claire scanned the screen. "It doesn't seem possible there's a third person with a connection to the Geminellis."

He put his arm around her. "Claire, you're still you, no matter who it is." With his other hand, he saved the article and opened the next one. "Yes, they knew each other. But remember, neither one of them has ever been charged with a crime. We haven't found any suggestion of criminal behavior—or even immorality. One of them is on the opposite side of the political fence, that's all. The only thing we've found is they both married into a family
reputed
to have ties to the mob." He scrolled through the search hits. "Here's something. Burley and Jennings were college roommates. Good friends who fell for sisters. They both married young, the same year they graduated from Washington and Lee. Probably had no idea of the mob connection. And Marianna died in 1978. Jennings never remarried. By all accounts, the three sisters were really something."

"Okay," Claire said when she could talk. "See what happened to the oldest sister."

He typed in the information he wanted. "Her name is Diane, and she married Guiseppe Trapp. He went into the wholesale grocery business with Carmine. Guiseppe and Diane had one child, a son named Tony, who'd be in his early fifties now." He opened another article. "Unlikely end for a grocer
—
Guiseppe Trapp was shot outside a restaurant in Queens. Police called it a mob hit, but the killer was never caught."

Claire slumped in her chair. "My head's spinning. I can't see how I could have any connection to any of these people. Or why I'd be a threat."

"Elton Burley may be running for vice president."

The ringing of the phone interrupted him.

Claire could hear a faint murmur but not enough to recognize the voice or understand the caller's words.

"Yes, she's here with me," Riley said. He listened for a minute, frowning. "Thanks for telling me. I'll be watching. Sounds like you've got your own problem."

Claire didn't like his tone. What now?

He hung up and turned to her. "We have to stop for now. That was your friend the cop
—
Bob Parsons. The file on you is missing. The report is still in the computer
—
only the paper file has disappeared. The detective who had it is positive he left it in his desk this morning, and now he can't find it anywhere. He asked Parsons about it because of your connection
—
thought he might have picked it up for some reason, but Parsons hasn't seen it. He thought we should know
—
someone has all the information we gave the police."

"Why would they want it? Didn't they already know everything?"

"Not my name and this address."

Chapter 20

Riley rose and reached for the window by the desk, began closing the curtains around the room. "We have to leave. No telling when they got the file. You get ready while I make some calls. We need another car. They could be watching now. Stay away from the windows."

"Will they break into the house?"

"Not likely. It's too exposed. They'll wait for us to leave and try to pick us off."

Claire looked around for the cat. "Can we take Spike? He might get hurt."

"Spike wouldn't stay anywhere else, not even with Ray." He pushed her toward the bedroom. "Get your things together. I'm going to arrange for some security. Then I'll transfer everything to my laptop and we'll leave. I want you out of here well before dark."