Taming Theresa (24 page)

The two men grunted their assent.

Outside again, they surveyed the remaining
gifts and wine. "Why don't we take the wine straight into the
cellar," said John. "They've got some racks down there. We can lay
it all out for Jack. There's at least three cases left, maybe a
little more. Hey Diane, could you crawl in the back of my SUV and
get those things that rolled to the back?"

Diane obediently climbed up into the truck
bed and disappeared. The two men, each carrying a full case of
wine, went inside and headed for the cellar stairs.

Watching from under the trees, just a few
yards away, Tony saw his chance. While Diane's back was turned, he
sprinted for the front steps. That's right lady, you stay out here
for just a minute, while those other two idiots are down in the
cellar and I'll get what I come for. Silently he eased open the
screen door and slipped inside, elbowing aside the heavy front door
that stood ajar.

The wedding gifts were piled high on the
dining room table and he rushed over. Damn, where the hell could it
be in this pile of crap? He rustled through the boxes and bags,
tossing them on the floor, searching for the wrapped box of
money.

"Hey, what the...? Tony! You slime ball! What
the hell are you doing here?"

He whipped around to see Theresa in the
doorway, hands on hips and eyes blazing. Where is it? Where's my
box? I wrapped it like a birthday present, about so big." He made
motions indicating the size of the package.

"Her expression changed from anger to
confusion. "What the hell are you talking about? No, forget it! I
don't care. You've got no business here. Get out!"

He rushed at her in panic. "Tell me Terry.
Tell me where it is and I'll leave. I gotta get that box. I hid it
in the Mustang about two, three weeks ago. Where the hell is
it?"

She stared back not comprehending. He was
like a wild man, sputtering, eyes wide and jaw clenched.

Suddenly, he grabbed her arm, spun her
around, and twisted, until her wrist was between her shoulder
blades. She screamed in pain.

"Tell me now Terry, Give me that damn box or
I swear, I'll break your arm," he hissed in her ear.

Outside, agents Owen and Rodriguez had
emerged from the apple orchard just in time to see Tony enter the
house. Quickly, Owen indicated with hand signals for his partner to
go in the front, while he went around to cover the back. They began
to move. Shielded from the house by the vehicles in the driveway,
they bent low and started in opposite directions.

As she ascended the front steps, Rodriguez
heard Tony DePalma's voice, followed by a woman's scream, then a
thumping sound, like bodies hitting the floor. Without hesitating,
she drew her weapon from its holster and opened the door.

At the top of the cellar stairs, John heard
Theresa scream. He saw clearly framed in the doorway a red-faced
Tony with Theresa's arm bent cruelly behind her. Her face was a
mask of pain and fear.

Launching himself in their direction, he
barreled into Tony, knocking them both off their feet. Tony rolled,
got his feet under him, and dashed into the kitchen and onto the
porch. John heard the back door slamming as Tony made his
escape.

Sitting up, blinking in confusion, they had
only a second before receiving the next surprise. Someone shouted,
"Freeze, Federal agents!" Coming through the front door straight
toward them was a woman wearing a dark blue FBI jacket. The angry
black eyes were frightening enough, but not nearly so much as the
black muzzle of the pistol pointed at their heads. She held the gun
straight before her in both hands, eyes darting to every corner of
the room.

At that moment, Joe rounded into the kitchen
and saw a strange woman pointing a gun in his direction. A small
croak of surprise escaped his lips and he raised both hands in the
air. "Don't shoot!" he gasped.

The woman asked, "Tony DePalma?"

John waved a hand toward the back door. "He
went that away."

The woman brushed past Joe and they heard her
running through the kitchen and the porch in hot pursuit.

Diane looked up from where she'd been
gathering packages in the back of John's car, and saw someone pass
in front of the Explorer. It was Chris! She scrambled out. What's
he doing here?

"Hey, Chris!" she called, delighted to see
him.

He turned, surprised and waved at her, to
back away.

"Chris, come on in. We were just going to
have a glass of wine. What's wrong? Why are you waving your hands
in the air like that?"

The sound of voices and slamming doors came
from the house.

"Hey, what are you doing, Chris?" She saw
another man dart across the drive, while Chris's head was turned in
her direction. The man vanished into the trees.

"Diane, not now! I can't....” he turned and
started running up the driveway.

"O-ka-y." She slumped against the car door.
"I can take a hint."

In the kitchen, Joe still stood with his
hands over his head, staring at the back door dumbfounded.

John and Theresa sat on the floor, still
trying to figure out what had just happened. John put his hand on
Theresa's arm. "What was it you told me before? Something about not
needing a bodyguard?"

"Daddy, why didn't you tell me that Tony was
doing something illegal? Don't you think I had a right to know?"
Terry was pacing back and forth in the farmhouse living room, the
familiar smells of her mother's cooking drifted in to blend with
the scent of her father's fine cigar. "What kind of crazy business
is Tony mixed up in anyway?" she exclaimed, dark eyes flashing.

Dominick held his hands up, trying to calm
her. His voice was soft, his tone conciliatory. "Baby doll, I
didn't want you involved in this matter. I thought everything could
be resolved without your knowledge, but I was wrong. I'm
sorry."

"Daddy! I thought you and Ma liked Tony and
wanted me to marry him. I never should have gotten engaged."
Dejected, Theresa dropped onto the couch opposite her father.

"I disapproved of Tony's behavior and was
relieved when you broke your engagement. He was never right for
you, not for my princess." He picked up his cigar and puffed,
eyeing his daughter through the drifting smoke.

"The miserable creep attacked me. He kept
yelling about some money he was looking for. I don't know anything
about any money. Since when did Tony have any money?” She hopped up
off the couch and began to pace again. “I don't know what he was
talking about. What's going on and what is this money everyone's
looking for?"

"Theresa, I believe Mr. DePalma, is in a
little trouble.” Dominick looked amused. "I expect the police will
have him in custody soon. Perhaps they already do, so don’t
worry."

"A little trouble!" she fairly screamed. "It
looks like a lot of trouble to me! Tony threatens to break my arm
if I don't give him some money I don't know anything about. Then
FBI agents start running through the house with guns, and I'm
supposed to not worry?"

“Sit down, Baby Doll.”

“Thank God, John was there.” Theresa sat on
the edge of the couch remembering. “He knocked Tony down and chased
him out of the house.”

"That is precisely why I asked John to stay
here until Victoria and Jack return from their honeymoon. I didn’t
want you to be alone. Now please try not to be concerned. With the
FBI here, Tony wouldn’t dare come back again. Your mother is making
some nice soup. You have a glass of wine and a bowl of soup and
you'll feel better."

"I don't want any soup and I don't want John
staying here. If you're really worried, I'll go back to Jersey, but
I don't want anyone babysitting me, especially not John."

"I understand that you are upset, but trust
me, everything will work out all right," said Dominick.

Theresa sighed and sat back on the couch.
"Will you let me know when the police have Tony in jail?"

"Yes, of course. The other day he managed to
slip away from the FBI agents, but they’ll find him soon."

"And Daddy, you should have told me that the
guy, Chris, and the dark haired girl at the wedding were FBI
agents? You told me he was your guest!"

"Yes, that's right. I couldn't mention that
Mr. Owen would be at the wedding in his capacity as an agent. He
was undercover to keep an eye on Tony. You see, the FBI feels that
Tony will lead them to this money so they can recover it, and he
can be charged. You understand."

"All right," she sighed. "I'm sorry I got so
hysterical, but this has been making me crazy. I do trust you,
Daddy. Maybe I will have a bowl of Ma's soup."

"That’s nice. Everything will be okay. You'll
see. Now, I would like your opinion on several points. This
afternoon I will speak with Mr. Spangenberg about buying Paulding's
Rest. I'd like you to come with me."

"Okay, I’ll be ready. You're serious about
buying the tavern?"

"Your mother and I feel this is a good
opportunity. If we can close the deal, I would like this location
to be yours. You manage the renovations and take over after it's
finished. Would you do this for me?

“Daddy, I don’t know what to say. I’d love
to!”

“You'd be close to your cousin, Victoria
here. I know you'd like that."

Theresa and her father were in the living
room, but their voices were loud enough to be clearly heard in the
farmhouse's kitchen where Rose stirred a large pot of simmering
soup. John sat at the big table with a steaming bowl before
him.

"Don't pay any attention to what my daughter
is saying about you leaving," said Rose over her shoulder. "She's a
little upset right now. Everything will be fine when she's had time
to think about things and calm herself."

"That's okay, Mrs. Buonadies. I
understand."

"She doesn't really want you to go. I know my
daughter. Theresa wants you to stay here with her. Believe me, I
know what I know." She turned back to the stove and began to turn
the sausages, browning in a skillet.

"This smells wonderful." He blew on a
spoonful of soup to cool it, sipping tentatively. "Mmm, this is
great! What kind of soup did you say this was?"

"Pasta Fagioli, you like?" she said, turning
to smile at him.

"It's wonderful." He began spooning up the
soup enthusiastically.

"I make you a nice sandwich to eat with that
soup, Okay? I got some sausage and peppers right here. You like
that?"

"I'd like nothing better, Mrs.
Buonadies."

"I told you before, never mind the Mrs.
Buonadies. Call me Rose, please," she insisted.

"Does Terry know how to make this soup?"

"Of course she does. She can cook anything
her mother can, sometimes even better. She helped me make this
sausage."

"You make your own sausage?" John asked,
amazed.

"Of course I do! How you gonna know what's in
those things they sell at the market?" She'd expertly sliced open a
long crusty roll, filled it with sautéed peppers and onions, and
was topping it with fat juicy sausage links. "I taught her
everything I know when she was a girl. Theresa is a natural cook.
Knows her way around the kitchen. I'm telling you, she'll make
somebody a wonderful wife some day." She gave John a significant
look.

Rose brought over the enormous hero, dripping
with olive oil, and sat down with him. The tantalizing aromas of
hot peppers, onions, and garlic filled the air between them. "I'm
very glad you like the soup. Try the sandwich."

"Wow. This is awesome! "John reached for the
sandwich and tried his best to fit a corner in his mouth. His eyes
closed in pleasure as he chewed.

"Come see us in Jersey whenever you like and
Theresa will cook something for you."

Ralph sighed as he sat with Dominick and
Theresa at a table in the special occasion room of the tavern.
Their empty coffee cups were pushed aside, forgotten. "I'm very
sorry Mr. Buonadies; this other offer is just too good to pass up.
To tell you the truth, I wish I could have sold to you. Terry
mentioned some of the plans you had for the place. Keeping the name
and the colonial style and atmosphere means a lot to me."

“That is a shame.” Dominick rubbed his chin
thoughtfully. "I'm curious about this other offer you received. If
you wouldn't mind my asking, was a man named Anthony DePalma
involved in any way?"

Ralph looked up sharply. "Yeah, as a matter
of fact, he was the one first approached me. "You know the
guy?"

Theresa looked at her father with surprise.
"Tony?" she asked. "Is he mixed up in everything?"

Dominick nodded to her and held up a hand to
quiet her, before continuing. "Yes, I know Mr. DePalma. Was he
representing a Mr. DeLuca?"

Again, Ralph nodded. "That's right. He's the
one; his company is making the purchase offer."

"You say they were going to have a building
inspector look the place over?"

"Did that this morning," said Ralph. The guy
was here all morning and looked at everything, from cellar to
attic. He said his written report wouldn't be prepared for a few
days yet, but that someone would probably get back to me soon if
there were any major problems."

"I see," said Dominick. "Have you heard
anything from them yet?"

"No, not yet," answered Ralph.”

Dominick was thoughtful. He looked around at
Theresa's satin lined walls, at the bar in the corner, still
stocked with bottles left from the wedding reception. He toyed with
his empty cup, gazing into it, as if looking for something.

Ralph opened his mouth to speak, but was
interrupted by his ringing cell phone. He grunted and dug it from
the pocket of his apron. Looking at the caller's number he said,
"Excuse me, I have to take this."

At her request, John drove Rose downtown and
walked across the street with her to the Henry Hudson Grocery.