Playing with Fire (24 page)

Chapter

T
WENTY
-
TWO

“Mind telling me the story?”

God, he hated hospitals, especially considering his recent stay. Sal accepted the cup of coffee with a murmured thank you. He shook his head. “There isn’t one really. Carmen and I have known each other most of our lives. Small world and all. Thanks for picking me up, by the way.”

And more so for bringing him home.

Dr. Altea looked quite different in street clothes once again. She wore slacks and a sleeveless white blouse and held her coffee cup in two hands. They were on the small tiled terrace off his condo and the evening was pretty pleasant. There were two chairs and a glass table out there, but he almost never used it.

She frowned. “I was actually halfway home when they called me. It happens all the time. The ED doctor recognized your name and knew I’d been your physician. Your friend was in a pretty deep downward spiral when she was admitted.”

He considered the clematis climbing up a trellis on the brick wall that separated the small backyard from that of his neighbor. The purple blooms were delicate and perfect, but that was hardly due to his diligent care. Sal said in a subdued voice, “Carmen is not a drug addict in my opinion, just unlucky today.”

“Have you had unprotected intercourse with her?”

He shot her a direct look. His side hurt. His shoulder hurt. “Drop the doctor thing. No sex with her at all and thanks for the personal inquiry.”

Jennifer looked pragmatic. “I’m fairly jaded when it comes to patients that come in who use drugs. Not only is their judgment in general impaired, but it isn’t like the FDA regulates what they choose to put into their bodies. There’s a reason it is illegal. If you had slept with her, you should be tested, that’s all.”

It was true, he’d almost had sex with Carmen the night he was shot, but he wouldn’t be so stupid as to have unprotected sex with anyone he didn’t know, or even her. “I don’t think she’s like that.”

“Under the influence, people make really bad decisions, like wanting to kill your ex-girlfriend Ms. Grazi.”

The sky had deepened enough that stars were scattered about and visible despite the city lights. Sal looked up at the velvet sky and mused. “Reign was never really my girlfriend. Friend, yes, and still one, but I expected more than she wanted to give, so end of story. We were involved, but calling it more than that is really pushing it. Neither did Carmen have any right to go off the deep end and be jealous. I’ve promised her nothing.”

“And never will?”

“Never will.”

“That’s pretty blunt. She’s quite a pretty young woman.”

He looked at Jennifer, registered the self-confidence she projected, and shook his head. “I don’t want pretty. Let me rephrase,” he said hastily as her brows rose. “I don’t want
just
pretty. I want interesting. I want someone who can make their own way, and maybe would like someone to share their life down the line but not necessarily count on me to solve every problem.”

“Very diplomatic, Counselor.”

He muttered, “Good to hear, since I’m hardly at my best.”

“I think you can be excused under the circumstances.” Dr. Altea’s topaz eyes were very direct as usual, and he had to wonder just what had prompted her to turn her car around and head toward his address when she could have ignored the whole debacle. “Want to know what I’m looking for?”

He reclined his head back and shut his eyes. “Someone who doesn’t get shot or have friends brandishing weapons at other friends? Just a guess. May I note I was about to say ‘this is just a shot in the dark,’ but that would be the worst comment possible.”

She choked on her coffee, laughing. “I want a guy who is attractive, has tons of deadly friends, and seems to lead quite an interesting life all around. I might throw in a nice sense of humor, compassion, and of course, would defend me pro bono in court should a malpractice suit ever come up.”

Sal opened his eyes. “I might know someone like that. But I don’t know if he does pro bono work. He might require some passionate sex in return. Just a warning.”

In a serene voice, she said, “Maybe payment could be arranged on a case-by-case basis. In the meantime, let’s admire the stars, finish our coffee, and I’ll be on my way.”

That sounded like a perfect plan. If he could sweep her up in his arms, carry her to the bed—which would normally be possible since he was considerably larger as a human being—he would, but that wasn’t happening.

At least not tonight.

So he settled for saying, “Would it be wrong of him to ask for a retainer … like next week?”

“Isn’t he being a little optimistic?” Jennifer Altea lifted her brows, relaxed in her chair.

“Oh, I think he’ll be more than capable.”

“What if that isn’t what I meant?”

That drew a grin, and a teasing tone he was surprised he could summon to the inquiry. “I guess we’ll find out next week, right?”

*   *   *

It was not the sort of thing she’d normally do.

Reign paused in front of the church, wishing she could have managed some different sort of venue. It was a beautiful stone building, and old, with a slight hint of lichen climbing up the foundation, and it had a small bronze sign posted by the doors into the vestibule that said it had been established in 1855.

As she went up the steps, she wondered if she was doing the right thing at all.

But she had to admit that the day before had taught her an interesting lesson. She’d taken for granted that the blonde who had such a thing for Sal was just a young woman with a crush.

That hadn’t gone so well, and it could have been much worse for both of them. Her father had always told her she underestimated or overestimated people and needed to find some middle ground.

Definitely underestimated this time
.

The church had an undefinable smell that only existed in old buildings like this one, choir robes and a thousand spent candles and pews that were slowly going to dust. Reign walked past a few people who were leaving the building and then was consumed by the silence as she entered the sanctuary. Beautiful windows and a soaring ceiling held her attention, the altar raised, the aisle carpet soft under her feet.

There was a nun who smiled at her as she passed, and she asked in a hushed voice, “Father Fattelli?”

“Go through that door, child.” The woman pointed. “He was in his office just a few moments ago. I’d guess he’s still there.”

So priests had offices? How odd. She’d really not thought about that before, but as Reign followed the directions, she imagined they must. It was, in essence, a job after all.

Well, a calling more than a job, but …

The man she met in the hallway was so like Nick she stopped short and stared. All that luscious dark hair and those striking blue eyes, but he wore a holy collar and smiled in an entirely different way. “Hello.”

It took her a second to respond. “I’m … I’m Reign,” she stammered. “Uhm, Reign Grazi. Can I talk to you for a minute? It isn’t much of a guess to think you are just the person I came to see.”

“I’m going to…” he started to say, but then nodded as if he sensed her unrest. “Of course. This way.”

Louise would
definitely
be disappointed that this man had chosen a different path.

His office was plain and utilitarian, and he settled behind the desk after offering her a wooden chair. She was never uncomfortable around men—or women either, for that matter—but in this setting, she found it a little difficult to relax. Reign took in a breath and said plainly, “I am a very good friend of your brother.”

“Well, let’s see. Great legs and all that gorgeous hair. I’m not all that surprised. He’s always had good taste.” John Fattelli sounded very matter-of-fact. “Nick is usually very private. I’m surprised you even know I exist. We are brothers but do not have the same life. What brings you here, Ms. Grazi?”

“I think someone is trying pretty hard to kill him.”

The response wasn’t immediate, but eventually it happened. “I’ve always been afraid of this.” John Fattelli looked briefly away, his profile remote. When he looked back, he said in measured tones, “Tell me what brought you here.”

She did. All of it. The man in the closet of her bedroom. Sal being shot on the yacht and how Nick had been standing there just minutes before. She tossed in the incident with Carmen, though she thought that had nothing to do with it.

Silence.

There was a clock on the wall that ticked loudly, but otherwise Nick’s brother seemed to just be thinking about what she’d told him.

He finally took in a deep breath. “Has he told you about Catherine?”

“No.” The chair could have been the most uncomfortable one she’d ever sat in, but Reign didn’t even care. “He kind of talks around his past.”

“Our sister. She married young, but a lot of Sicilian women do that. Her husband was abusive, and when she was pregnant with her first child, he hit her a bit too hard one evening. She fell and the blow to her head killed her. Her husband claimed she stumbled, but she’d just confided in our mother what was going on so we doubted that story, trust me. Unfortunately, though he was arrested initially on two counts of assault and manslaughter, there wasn’t enough evidence to take it to trial, just our word for it he’d pushed her before.”

John looked at his hands. “They were fraternal twins, so Nick really took it hard. We all did, but not like he did. He was a friend of her husband and introduced them. He won’t talk about it. Flat out. I’ve tried. He just … won’t.”

The words actually explained quite a lot. Reign felt paralyzed, her throat tight.

He added, “We all deal with grief in our way. I became a priest, and he became something else entirely. I want to leave vengeance to the God I believe exists, and he wanted to make sure it happened while he was on this earth. Ms. Grazi, I can’t even tell you which one of us is right, but I assure you that my sister’s husband disappeared the day after he was released from jail, and while I am a man of the church, I will never ask about what happened to him, and neither do I care. But I bet Nick knows. My brother-in-law’s parents were quite vocal in their accusations, but once again, nothing could be proven. Clever of my brother, an eye for an eye, I suppose. I think the justice of the Lord is meted out by various means, don’t you? We all are instruments in his purpose.”

Piety aside, he still hadn’t answered her question. “Do you have any idea who might want him dead?”

“It would not surprise me if Nick had any number of enemies who might have murderous inclinations, but please understand we strictly do not discuss anything except baseball and occasionally he gives me investment advice. I’d like to think we’re close but acknowledge we are two very different people. Morality is a sliding scale depending on the circumstances. For instance, I doubt any woman becomes a prostitute because she wants to, but they are judged very harshly. Marriage is a sacred vow, but my sister certainly should have broken it. My father was a dangerous man, but once I was old enough to realize what he did for a living, he told me that he never took a job if he didn’t think the world would be a better place without that person.”

“Nick was hired to kill me, but it was a setup.”

John laughed softly. “Nick would never kill a beautiful woman like you. Besides, just from our brief conversation, and I consider myself a fairly wise judge of people, I don’t at all think the world would be a better place without you. Quite the contrary, Ms. Grazi. Who would think so? I can’t really imagine you having enemies that determined.”

She thought about Carmen and had to admit she hadn’t seen that one coming. Who would hate her? No one she could think of, but her family did have rivals.

It hit her then, like the proverbial lightning bolt, or considering her location, maybe a gift from above.

Rivals. Aggression and revenge could exist for many reasons, most of it based on either money or prestige.

Or maybe both.

She grabbed her purse and rose to stick out her hand. “I need to talk to Nick. It’s been very … enlightening to meet you, Father. I suppose that’s what I should call you, right?”

Nick’s brother looked a little bewildered, but graciously shook her hand. “I think John would be fine.”

When she stepped onto the sidewalk, her phone rang. She answered immediately. “Vince?”

Her son replied in a strained voice. “Hi. Mom. I wanted to let you know we’re back in the city. Max’s dad thought maybe it would be best. Hey, can you come pick me up?”

Chapter

T
WENTY
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THREE

When his phone rang he was frowning at his computer screen, distracted, wondering why the hell he’d agreed to let Reign go anywhere alone, though she’d insisted she’d take the subway and then a cab, and no one would ever guess where she was going, and it was a safe place.

Nick saw the number with relief. “Where are you? I’m sitting in your office, unable to work. Never again, until we get this resolved, will I let you persuade me to let
you
go somewhere alone.”

“You really liked my method of persuasion.”

He had. A mind-blowing blow job first thing in the morning, followed by slow, steamy sex that involved enough heat he was tangled in the damp sheets afterward, and in a weak moment, he let her have her way.

She’d sworn it was an innocent errand.

“I’ve been worried.”

She said urgently, “Meet me somewhere. We need to talk, and don’t say the location. My office could be bugged.”

“Can you be more specific on where?”
And why does she suddenly think her office could be bugged?

She texted him the location of an office building on 27th Street, and he was a little puzzled but more than happy to comply. He’d gotten nothing done all morning. He took a cab, since he couldn’t be sure about the Bentley unless Pat swept it again, and parking was impossible anyway.

Reign was in the lobby, pacing a little, and it was nice to see her welcoming smile and the tension in her shoulders ease.