Summer Kisses (205 page)

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Dave said. “But if that’s not a route we can go, then perhaps we can get Angie or Luigi to turn. If they won’t help us, then at least we might put a bug in their ear that this is their chance to be boss. If we’re real lucky, they’ll kill each other.”

Shock zapped Marisa, she knew she couldn’t hide it from her face.

“What?” Dave asked. “You can calmly speak of your family’s death, but is possibly losing Luigi too much for you?”

A bitter smile replaced the shock. “Jealous, Dave?” She ran her fingers along his collar.

He caught her hand. “Maybe.”

Not the answer she wanted to hear. She slipped her hand free and changed subjects. “You don’t think he’s hurt seriously, do you?” She moved over to kneel in front of Luigi, she took his wrist. “His pulse seems strong enough.”

“You do care for him,” Dave accused.

“I feel guilty for using him,” Marisa corrected him, then stood and tried to get his focus off Luigi. “It won’t work. If you arrest my father. For all we know he has some trigger in place to kill Nia and Danny if he’s arrested. We have to get them safe first.”

“I can’t imagine you continuing to be caught up in this life.”

“I won’t,” she answered. “I’m finished.”

Dave turned away and walked to a window, staring out on the street below. “So you wouldn’t have married Luigi if things had turned out differently?”

Marisa hated that Dave had heard that conversation between her father and Luigi. She hadn’t even known about it.

“No,” she answered Dave at last, moving beside him to look out the window. “My goal has always been to get out of the Mafia. I would never marry a member.”

Dave continued to stare out the window.“Would you marry someone in the FBI?”

The question came out of nowhere. Stunned, Marisa turned to stare at Dave’s profile since he was still watching the traffic below. She wasn’t able to look into his eyes. She didn’t know if he was serious.

Then he looked at her, and his gaze said dead serious.

Her heart beating fast, she decided to be cautious, yet truthful. “I don’t know. The FBI is like a “family” itself. Look at you, for example. Your father before you was in the FBI. Your son after you will probably be in the FBI. After growing up in just such a hierarchy, I don’t know if I can handle it for the rest of my life.”

He turned back to the window. “The FBI is slightly different from the mob, Princess.”

“Just because it’s a legal organization, doesn’t mean it still doesn’t control your life.”

“There’s another difference. An agent can quit the FBI without having to die.”

She shrugged. “Point taken.” She smoothed her hand over his back to hide her uncertainty, then asked before she could stop herself. “Would you quit?”

He turned and wrapped her hands with his own, holding them against his chest. His gaze held hers. “Would you ask me to quit?”

“There’s no use in this discussion. I shouldn’t have asked.” She broke eye contact, her stomach sinking.

“Why?”

“We barely know each other.”

“I feel like I know you. Very well.”

“You know what I told you. You have to realize it affected me.” She stared at his chest, just above where he held her hands.

He moved his right hand, and with his finger, he tilted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I respect you just for surviving, Marisa.” He kissed her. Gently, softly.

Marisa’s head spun with possibility. But she had to pull herself back to reality. She knew what lay ahead. Dave didn’t. There was no way he’d want to be with her when he knew exactly what she was capable of doing. Of what she would have to do. Still, she wouldn’t shut the door permanently. Not just yet. “When it’s all over,” she told him, “if you can honestly tell me that you respect me–”

“I already told you–”

“No, I mean when it is
all
over, if you can tell me that you still respect me, then maybe there is a chance for us. Whether you leave the FBI or not.”

Dave pulled her closer for another kiss, but this time a moan interrupted them.

Marisa turned from Dave to look at Luigi. “He’s waking.”

“Maybe now is a good time to suggest it would be wise to cooperate with us.”

“He will never cooperate, but I will try.” She walked over and knelt down. “Luigi? Gigi, can you hear me?”

He moaned again. Then slowly, he opened his eyes. They were clearly out of focus. He blinked and squinted, a pained frown covering his face. “Marisa?
Por Dio
, my head.” His awareness coming back, he realized he was restrained in the chair. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry I had to hit you.”

His sharp, narrowed gaze told her he remembered everything now.

“You.” Luigi spat the word. “Are you trying to kill me? What are you doing with the FBI? Are you plotting something against your father?” He was a whole fountain of questions now that he was cognizant. He also had his own answers. “Of course. You must be. Why would you turn on your father, Marisa?”

“I am helping Sandro.”

Surprise momentarily erased the pain from Luigi’s face. “Sandro? Do you love him still, then? Are you trying to win his gratitude if not his love?”

“I’m trying to do what is right–”

“Since when has what’s right and wrong ever bothered you?”

The jab hit sharp and true. Marisa looked to Dave and sent him a silent message.
See, I told you. I’m not worthy of respect.

“It was wrong of my father to take Sandro’s family to make him cooperate with something illegal.”

“And to make it right, you stole all of your father’s money?”

Marisa was experienced at concealing her emotions, but Luigi’s accusations were so unexpected, she couldn’t hide her surprise.

“Oh, yes, I know it was you, Marisa. I know your skills with the computer. And your alibi didn’t pan out since your “friends” failed to back up your story about the opera.”

“Did you hurt my friends?”

“It took a little coercion.”

She felt sad for her friends, who by now would want nothing more to do with her. “Gigi–”

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you still love Sandro? Is that why you are willing to destroy your father?”

“No. I’ve never loved Sandro as more than a brother. I broke off the engagement.”

“Then why, Marisa? Hasn’t your father always given you everything you wanted?”

“No. He never gave me my freedom.”

“You’re an Italian. Italian women don’t have freedom.”

She shook her head, knowing they wouldn’t get far if they argued. “Luigi, if you’ll just help–”

“Help? What kind of help do you possibly expect from me?”

Marisa didn’t answer. In her mind, there was no way Luigi could help except by staying out of the way. She looked to Dave.

“You can testify against Carlo when we bring him in,” Dave spoke up.

“You want me to be a rat? Are you outta your mind?”

Marisa pleaded, because if Luigi agreed to help, at least he’d be out of the way so she and Sandro could go through with their plan. “Gigi,
caro
, if you ever loved me–”

“You’re an ungrateful bitch. I may have loved you, but I realize my mistake now.”

His anger only hardened her resolve. She and Sandro were doing what was necessary. Dave’s way would not work at all, but he would never believe it. He still naively believed in the justice system. When true justice only existed for those who took a stand.

“If you don’t help,” Dave said, anger outlining every feature as he moved closer, “then I’ll have to take you in.”

Marisa wondered at the anger on Dave’s face. Was it because Luigi insulted her?

“What’s the charge? Running into a heavy object wielded by a traitorous bitch? I don’t think it’ll stick,” Luigi taunted. “As a matter of fact, I’m the one who should be pressing charges. I could have your badge, Fed.”

Marisa wanted to hit him again.

Dave nearly did. He twisted Luigi’s shirt with one hand and had the other pulled back in a fist before he stopped himself. “Actually the charge would be attempting to shoot a federal officer. You’re on your way to jail, buddy.”

He released Luigi and stepped away. “So until my men get here to pick you up, enjoy being tied to a dining room chair.” Dave made himself comfortable on the sofa, stretching his long legs across the coffee table. “Join me, Marisa?”

“Can I have a drink?” Luigi said. “Maybe some pain killer for my head?”

“Certainly,” she answered.

“I’ll get it,” Dave said, moving to get up.

Marisa had a flash of inspiration. “No, stay there. I’ll get it. I have some in my medicine cabinet.” In the bathroom, she took the pain killer and another, smaller vial from the shelf. Concealing the smaller vial, she went to the kitchen for a glass.

Once she filled the glass with water, keeping her back to Luigi and Dave, she made a show of opening the bottle, while in reality, she was counting off drops from the vial into the water.

Shoving the sleeping drops out of the way behind a crockery of cooking utensils, she took two pills and the water to Luigi. She realized with his hands cuffed behind him, he couldn’t take the medicine himself.

“Open,” she told him. “You want one at a time or both?”

“Both.”

She placed the pills in his mouth then held the water to his lips. He nodded his head when he’d had enough.

“Damn, those taste like shit.”

“Yes, they do, don’t they?” she calmly agreed, then sat the glass back on the counter. “I’ll gather all my things now,” she told Dave and disappeared into her bedroom.

~~~

“Hello, Markie. Guess today is your lucky day,” Steve, the big Texan on the task force, was hard to miss as he walked up beside the parked mobster car. He opened the door.

“Hey, what’re you doin’? Can’t a guy sit in his car without being hassled?”

“Not in this neighborhood, partner.”

The guy in the passenger seat next to Markie went for his gun but his door suddenly flung open and he found a gun pressed to the back of his skull. “You don’t want to do that,” Tony told him.

Steve sent Tony an appreciative look, then turned back to Markie. “You two need to come with us.”

“What for?” Markie asked.

Tony reached into the glove compartment and rummaged around. “Oh, maybe for these parking violations you haven’t paid.”

“You two ain’t cops. You can’t hassle me about no parking violations.”

“But we can give you a ride to the police station. I’m sure they’d be very appreciative.” Steve reached in and pulled Markie from behind the wheel, while Tony pulled his guy out of the car on the passenger side.

Quickly and efficiently, the two FBI men disarmed the two mobsters.

“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“You got a permit for these?”

“Sure I do.”

“Good, I think the police are going to want to see it.” Steve took Markie’s arm and led him toward the gray government-issued sedan.

~~~

Nicola needed some fresh air. The car reeked of cigarette smoke. They’d been sitting in the confined vehicle, doing nothing more than watching the garage exit of Marisa’s building and puffing one cigarette after another. Now, Nicola’s head was hurting.

“I’ll be back, man,” he told his companion.

“Where you going?”

“Just up for some fresh air. Honk if you see anything, I’ll come back down.” Nicola opened his door and climbed out. His eye caught a furtive movement between two cars behind them. It was there, then it disappeared. He peered hard between the cars.

“What’s wrong with you?” his companion asked.

“Shh,” Nicola warned. “I think something’s up.” He stared harder. He saw nothing, yet an uneasy feeling had settled in his chest. “Start the car, we’re getting out of here.”

“Luigi’s gonna be pissed if we let Marisa get away–”

“Fuck, Luigi. Something’s not right.”

The man started the car. At the sound of the engine, two men came from between the parked cars, running toward Nicola.

“Freeze, FBI.”

“Shit,” Nicola swore then dived into the car. “Get out of here now.” Nicola nearly tumbled out of the car as the tires spun on the concrete garage floor. He managed to pull the door shut as the car sped away. He looked behind them. The two FBI men were chasing on foot. One fired his gun. Nicola ducked.

“Wait, man, there’s an old lady, don’t shoot again,” Gregg told his partner.

“Oh, hell, they’re gonna run her down.” At the last minute, the car swerved and missed the old woman.

Gregg and his partner Bobby, still the newbies on the team, ran over to check on her. “You all right, lady?”

“Get those damned hoodlums.” The old woman wielded her walking stick like a weapon.

“Yes, ma’am, we’re after them.”

“You cops?” she asked.

“Something like that.” Gregg and Bobby ran for their car. The engine barely started before Gregg was spinning out after the two mobsters who got away.

When Marisa came out of her room with a duffel bag and a wooden box ten minutes later, Dave was standing at the kitchen counter, examining the glass she’d used for Luigi. A quick glance told her Luigi was out cold.

“Dave?”

He turned. He held the vial in his hand. “You drugged him?”

“Sleeping drops. I thought it would be more convenient if he were unconscious.”

“Your own special concoction, I presume?”

She dropped her gaze and shrugged.

“My God, the man most likely has a major concussion and you’re giving him sleeping drops.”

She looked at Luigi with alarm. “You think it’ll kill him?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.” Dave sighed. “But if he survived that damned knock upside the head you gave him, he’ll probably survive this.”

“I’m sorry, Dave. He made me mad when he threatened to press charges.”

“Remind me not to make you mad.”

The intercom by the door buzzed. Marisa walked over to press the button.

“Ms. Peruzzo,” the doorman said, “there’s two men down here who want to come up. A Gregg and Bobby—they wouldn’t tell me their last names, said you knew–”

She glanced at Dave who nodded. “Yes, yes, I’m expecting them. Please send them up, Murray. Thank you.” She turned to Dave. “You better start untying Luigi.”