Summer Kisses (209 page)

“I can’t believe it,” she murmured, sitting up and pulling Angie’s jacket around her to cover her nakedness. “Carlo threatened Sandro’s family? He threatened me?” No wonder Sandro hadn’t seemed himself right after the World Cup. She’d thought it was because he was depressed over losing. Or that his leg was bothering him. But he was more likely depressed he’d been forced to lose.

“Sandro thought it was a one time thing. But it is never a one time thing with the family,
Bella
. Sandro learned his mistake too late. By the time he discovered that, he had married you. He had a family to protect.”

Angie went on to tell her how Carlo ruined Sandro’s career in Italy, then by the strange twist of fate, ended up in New York, the same city to which Sandro had fled.

“So, Sandro was working with Dave to set up Carlo, yet somehow it backfired.”

“We have informants everywhere,” Angie told her. “Even in the highest levels of government.”

“But Sandro must’ve learned you were on to him.”

“He must have had an informant, too. He now has Carlo’s money and Carlo’s daughter to bargain with.”

“Carlo’s daughter?” When Angie said that, Nia remembered Marisa was the same one who Sandro had left with.

“
Si,
somehow he was able to take her prisoner.”

Nia knew without a doubt Marisa was the one who had been helping Sandro. But no way would she tell Angie. Let him think Sandro really held Marisa prisoner.

Whatever Sandro planned, Nia had to be ready to help him. “Where is my son?”

Angie called for Giovanni. He came into the room carrying Nia’s son, who had stopped crying but had a case of hiccups. He passed her child to her; she cradled Daniele in her arms, and he shuddered before laying his little head on her shoulder.

Angie brushed his hand over Daniele’s soft curls and patted Nia. “I will get you some clothes. We will leave soon.”

~~~

“I have to leave now if I want a chance to get the team in place,” Dave said. “Most likely Carlo will be early and I don’t want to get caught setting the trap.”

“You make certain your men are well hidden,” Sandro said. “Only you and Frankie are supposed to accompany me.” Carlo had only agreed to the extra man because Frankie was injured with a bullet wound and wasn’t even supposed to be out of the hospital. But good agent that he was, he’d insisted on helping.

And Dave was still operating under the illusion that when all was said and done he was taking Carlo into custody. Let him think whatever he wanted as long as he left soon. Marisa was quickly running out of time.

“You two don’t leave until I’ve let you know it’s safe,” Dave said. “I don’t want you walking into a trap.” He turned to Marisa. “You won’t have to go back to your father, I promise,” he told her.

She gave him a quick kiss while mentally urging him out the door. “It will all work out, she promised. “Be careful.” Under the guise of patting his shoulder, she practically pushed him out the door. “We’ll be waiting for your call.” She blew him a kiss, shut the door before he’d even turned to walk off. Leaning against the door, she said, “Finally, he’s gone.”

Sandro watched her as she headed for her box. “You seem in a hurry.”

“I am. I have things to do.” Dressed in black jeans and a black sweater, she slipped on a black jacket, as well, and picked up her box.

“What are you doing?”

“I have an errand to run. I’ll be back before Dave calls.”

Sandro’s face registered shock. “No, you will not leave.” He grabbed her arm and held fast. “I need you at that meeting. It must look as if I plan to exchange you. They are capable of killing my wife and child if they suspect a trick.”

Marisa tugged her arm free. “I know exactly what they are capable of, Sandro. That’s why I must leave for a while.”

“What do you have there?” Sandro nodded at the box she was hugging like a child.

“It is best you do not know.”

He frowned. “You are not leaving this building.”

She felt the clock tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. “I have to go,” she said urgently. “There is no debate in this.”

“Tell me why. What are you planning?” He narrowed his gaze. “Is that material to make a bomb?”

She leveled a hard stare at him, she knew chances were good he’d guess. “You have your back-up plan, and I have mine. Neither of which includes Carlo or his associates going to jail.”

“You are planning to make a bomb?”

“I must plant it on my father’s car before they leave. I have little time.”

“Have you built it already?”

Marisa shook her head. “There hasn’t been time.”

“Where were you going to build it?”

“I’d plan to rent another room in the hotel. Sandro, you don’t need to be involved.”

He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Are you crazy? I already am involved. Your father holds my entire life in his hands.”

She studied his face, then finally conceded. “All right, we’ll build it here.” She sat the box on the desk and pulled off her jacket. She opened the box and quickly started assembling parts.

Sandro watched intently. “You’ve done this before?”

“I’ve practiced many times. Hand me that wire, please.” She indicated a small roll of blue wire. She frowned, intensely focusing.

“There,” she said at last. “It is almost ready. I will set the trigger device when we get there.” She packed the nearly complete bomb back in the box.

Sandro slipped on his jacket. “Come, I will drive you. We must hurry so we’ll be ready when Dave calls.”

Speed—and caution—were on both of their minds as they left the hotel. Sandro drove to Carlo’s club, parking a block away and on the opposite side of the street. They stealthily slipped through the dark, heading for his car. While Sandro kept watch, Marisa stole through the night to her father’s limousine and planted the bomb. With quick, sure movements, she connected the trigger device.

It took her less than ten minutes, then they were hurrying back toward the car. Marisa sank into the passenger seat, nerves just now making her shake. Over an hour since Dave left. He should be calling any minute.

Almost on cue, her cell phone rang. Checking the caller ID, Sandro passed the phone to Marisa.

“My men are almost in place. I have to set up the final details. Are you ready to go?”

“
Si
.”

“I’m sending Frankie for you two. He’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“I’ll tell Sandro.”

A movement down the street drew Sandro’s attention and he nudged her arm. She glanced up. Her father and brother were leaving the club. Massimo got in on the driver’s side.

She ended the call with Dave and told Sandro, “That is good. I was hoping Massimo would drive instead of Poppa’s driver.”

“We were specific on who could come.”

“It looks as if he plans to stick with your terms. That is good.”

“Should we follow them? Perhaps we can swipe Nia and Danny from wherever they are being held,” Sandro said. “We can forget our whole scheme if I could get them back.”

“And where would you go? It’s as I told Dave, if Poppa is arrested, he can still run business from jail. You will never be safe as long as he and Massi are alive.”

And she would never be free if they were alive. She thought about all the times they had used her and hurt her without a second thought. How her mother’s life was destroyed without a second thought. How Paolo was murdered without a second thought. Now she would pay them back.

Without a second thought.

Luigi moaned.

“I think he’s waking up,” Bobby said, glancing at the mobster lying on top of the flowered tan hotel bedspread.

Gregg stood up from his chair at the round table, standard in practically every hotel room. He yawned and stretched. “And I think I’m going to sleep. How long did Dave say we had to watch him?”

“He didn’t. We just wait until he calls. It could be hours yet.”

“This is damned irregular.”

“Whatever it takes,” Bobby said.

Gregg pulled out his wallet, checked it for cash. “I’m going out to get coffee. You want some?”

“Yeah, sure. Good and strong.” Bobby pulled some bills out of his pocket. “Maybe bagels too.”

Gregg nodded his head toward Luigi. “If he’s waking up, you better get him secured with more than those cuffs. Of course, with a knot on his head like that and those drops she gave him, he won’t be too active for a while.”

“Yeah, sure. Okay.”

Gregg left the rented hotel room. Bobby pushed up out of the chair, where he’d been watching “Cops” on the small, ancient television. He took some rope out of his duffel, intending to hog tie Luigi. He paused long enough to slap at a roach scurrying across the table.

A high-speed chase on TV made Bobby pause. He stared at the cops speeding along in their cruisers on the open freeway in Abilene, Texas. They sure had wide-open spaces there. Hard to imagine.

Still half-watching the show, Bobby bent over the bed and did his own brand of hog tying around Luigi’s legs. He took the extra rope intending to loop it through the cuffs to hold Carlo’s
consigliere
immobile.

Bobby jumped when he saw Luigi’s eyes wide open and alert. Then everything happened so fast—

Luigi lurched up, grabbed the Fed’s Glock from his shoulder holster. Using his feet, he launched the man away from him. Holding the gun awkwardly with cuffs on, he still managed to pull the trigger twice. The shocked Special Agent slammed against the wall before sliding down to land in a heap on the floor.

The bone-cracking pounding in Luigi’s head knocked him back over when he tried to get up. His stomach rolled. Damn that fucking bitch Marisa.

Ignoring the throbbing, he crawled off the bed and stumbled toward the fallen man. No blood. The FBI man wore a vest. Since he was unconscious, most likely had several broken ribs as well, he wouldn’t be coming after Luigi any time soon.

Luigi wouldn’t finish the guy off. Attempted murder was enough to be charged with for one day. He fumbled in the guy’s pockets, found the keys to the cuffs. Working quickly as he could manage, he freed himself. Snatching the gun up, he hobbled out the door, pain limiting his speed. He avoided the elevator, knowing the other cop would likely be back soon. Instead he found the stairway. Each step made his head pound like a drum, his stomach threatened to explode out his throat.

As best as he could, Luigi ignored the pain. With a quick scan of the lobby, he headed for the street, hiding in the shadows of the building. He felt his pockets. His cell phone was gone. Fuck. He needed a way to reach Carlo and warn him.

There was a pay phone on the corner. He stumbled to it, dug for change in his pocket, dialed the club number. Only to discover Carlo had already left. He then called the warehouse and Giovanni told him Carlo had come and gone from there as well. Too late. Figured. Definitely made his life more difficult. At least Giovanni told him the meeting place where Carlo was headed.

Luigi knew it was useless to try to reach Carlo on his cell phone while he was enroute. Carlo had an unbendable rule of no phone calls in his car. He had a fear of bugs, with good reason. And no matter that he had his car swept every day, they all knew by now that the FBI had remote controlled listening devices which could be deactivated during a sweep.

No, no way would Carlo answer his phone. Angie or Massimo either. Luigi was going to have to go after them. He sagged against the phone, tried to concentrate. He needed a car.

He could call his men to pick him up, but waiting on them would take too long. Time was something he didn’t have if he was going to save Carlo from walking into a trap set by his daughter.

Better to snatch a car and drive to the meeting place himself, stop by the club and grab some of his men. Before Luigi could leave in search of a vehicle, a rattletrap car pulled up to the curb. Inside were two guys wearing gang colors.

The muscular one stepped out of the driver’s side. “Hey, asshole, get away from that phone. I gotta use it.”

Luigi raised the Glock. “Fine. Use the phone. Give me your car keys.”

“What? No way, you jerk off.” The man went for his gun. Luigi shot him point blank, then whirled and fired at the other man climbing out of the passenger side with his gun drawn. Luigi missed, and the other man ducked and ran.

Quickly, Luigi searched the dead man’s pockets until he found the keys. Wasn’t the first time he had to toss a dead guy.

Hobbling to the car, he slid into the seat, stuck the key in the ignition and pulled the car in gear. He pressed the accelerator and jumped when the car backfired. Luigi hoped the piece of junk lasted long enough to get him to the club so he could get his men and a better car. He had to make that meeting in time.

~~~

Gregg was whistling as he waited for the elevator to reach his floor number. He held two coffees on a cardboard tray in one hand and a sack with two bagels in the other. The doors slid open, and he headed down the hall hoping this job would be over in time for him to catch his wife awake. Sex would be welcome tonight. A good change of pace.

When he found the door to the hotel room standing half-open, he pulled up short, all thoughts of sex forgotten.

The hairs raised on the back of his neck as his alert signals kicked in. Quickly, he sat the coffee on the floor and drew his weapon from his shoulder holster. Scanning the hallway for a possible ambush, he approached the room with caution. He used his free hand to shove open the door.

When no bad guys or gunshots greeted him, he swung around the door ledge, leading with his gun. At first the room looked empty.

Then he noticed Bobby on the floor.

“Holy shit.” In case Luigi or some of his soldiers were hiding, Gregg did a sweep of the room. It was empty and Luigi appeared long gone.

Gregg dropped beside Bobby, felt for a pulse. Found it, strong and steady. Relieved, Steve dug out his cell phone and called for help.

Bobby jerked, came awake swearing a blue streak when Gregg tried to remove the vest.

“Take it easy, buddy.” Gregg laid a hand on him. “You likely got a few broken ribs.”