He found her in the closet. “Wow.”
“You think?” She did a quick turn.
He nodded. “Classic black suit is always a good choice. Especially when it’s cut as well as that one is. Armani?”
“Alexander McQueen.”
“Excellent choice. Strong shoulders.”
She stepped aside so he could have a better view of her shoe wall. “What shoes?”
His brows lifted as he took in the selection. “Okay, Imelda. You are definitely going to need help packing all of those.”
She laughed. “Hey, I like shoes. And good shoes are kind of a Mafia wife thing.”
“I see.” He approached the wall, hand on his chin, pondering. Then he reached out and snagged a pair. “Try these.”
“Bold choice. I like it.” She slipped on the wine-colored snakeskin Louboutins and presented herself to him for comment. The shoes had a spray of matching wine-colored crystals across the toes, giving them a little sparkle.
He gave her the once-over, then nodded. “Those are truly amazing. Sexy, powerful, a little bit of dark red, which is very vampirey, and they give you enough height to probably put you at eye level with Fitzhugh. Or maybe taller. I like them.”
“I do too.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’re pretty good at this.”
He laughed. “All I did was pick out a pair of shoes.”
“But they were the right pair the first time.”
He leaned against the center island that served as her dresser and a little display area. “I’ve studied appearances for a long time. When I get someone ready for court, I do more than prepare them with what to say. I prepare them with how to act and how to look. Clothes and grooming can make a dangerous person look meek, a weak person look strong, and a guilty person look innocent. And vice versa. Appearance is everything.”
“You’re right. Although I don’t know if I ever gave it that much thought.”
“Most people don’t.” He shrugged. “But I also like nice things. And it’s not hard to see what looks good on a beautiful woman. Which, in your case, is just about everything.”
His gaze was arrowed in on her so intently that she felt her cheeks heat. “Pierce, I—”
He held his hands up. “I know. We are not going there. Not soon, anyway. But I’m also not going to lie about my attraction to you or how you make me feel. You can rest assured, however, that I won’t act on it until you give me a very clear signal that it is appropriate to do so.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now let’s figure out what other accessories you need.”
That ended up being a simple pair of diamond earrings and a wide diamond band. She spread her fingers so she could have a look at the ring on her hand. “I should probably get a manicure.”
“I bet Charlie could arrange that. Want me to text her?”
“I can do it.”
“I know you can, but it’s not your job.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m guessing whatever services you need can come to you. Hair, nails, massage, yoga instructor, probably anything. Why else do they have a salon in that penthouse?”
She tipped her head. “Good point. Go ahead and text her.”
He finished the text and looked up. “Done.”
“It will be nice to have all those services come to me. And it would certainly make keeping my little secret easier.”
His phone chimed. He read the screen, then said, “She can arrange a manicure for eight p.m., if that works for you.”
“It does. Great.”
He started texting. “I’ll let her know. I’m also having her get a hairstylist. I’m sure you can do your own hair very well, but a good blowout will be a confidence booster too.”
“You’re not wrong about that. How do you think I should wear my hair?”
Text completed, he tucked the phone into his pocket. “Blown out straight and sleek. The end goal is to make you look like the baddest boss on the planet. I’d suggest adding sunglasses when we go to see Boris. They won’t affect your vision as a vampire, but they will give you a mysterious air.”
She laughed. “I think you’re going to be my stylist from now on. I like the idea of being a boss. It’s not a position I’ve ever really held.”
“Well, you do now.” He winked, then surveyed the closet again. “How much of this is going to the penthouse? Temo will be here in an hour. I figured that was enough time to get the first load sorted.”
“It should be. I need to grab some boxes, though.”
“I brought two wardrobe boxes up with me, but I’m guessing you’re going to need all four. And several more for shoes. And purses.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Not all of this has to go. My taste is changing. Some of this is way too Mafia wife for me to ever wear it again. And a lot of it doesn’t fit. You can help me decide on some of it.”
“Happy to. How about I go get some more boxes, and you start separating out what’s going?”
“Deal. I’m going to change out of this suit first.”
When he got back, they went to work. It was liberating to get rid of the clothes that had been part of her old life, and the sorting got easier with that thought in mind.
About an hour into the packing, the doorbell rang.
Chapter Seven
“It’s probably Rico,” Donna said as she hung a few more tops on the bar of the wardrobe box. “Or Temo.”
“You want me to check?” Pierce asked.
“Maybe. Hang on.” She pulled out her phone.
There was a text from Mr. FBI himself. Here.
She held up the phone. “It’s Rico.”
Pierce put the shoes he was holding into the box on the floor. “I’m coming with you anyway. Not saying I don’t believe you, but better safe than sorry, right?”
“Right.” She smiled but tried not to let him see. His concern was commendable, but if it wasn’t Rico at the door, she wasn’t sure what Pierce could do exactly. She had more strength and power as a vampire than he did as a human. Even one who had the benefits of her blood. She wasn’t about to stop him from coming, though.
Together, they went downstairs and headed for the door. She let Pierce answer it.
Rico gave him a nod. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Pierce said back. Then he looked at Donna. “I’m going to put more boxes together in the garage. Yell if you need me.”
“Will do.”
He left as Rico entered. She closed the door, noting he’d arrived in a standard black SUV and not the usual undercover plumber’s van.
He faced her. “So. You found a gun?”
“I did. And some cash.” No point in mentioning the photo. Rico wasn’t going to be interested in baby pictures. “The gun was wrapped in fabric and hidden away. I think it either has incriminating prints on it or can be connected to a crime by ballistics. Either way, I want you to take it. And I didn’t touch it.”
He grinned. “Look at you, deducing away like an agent.”
She laughed. “Well, why else would it be hidden away?”
“Nope, I agree. There’s something going on with it. What about the cash?”
“No idea, but if it’s mob money, I don’t want it. Can’t you run the serial numbers or something?”
“We can. We can check the money for prints, too, but that will only tell us who touched it.”
She shrugged. “I just thought I’d give it to you and see what you could do with it.”
“Happy to take it.” His smile widened. “Speaking of happy…”
“What?”
“We’ve pulled some pretty damning stuff from those ledgers you turned over. Unfortunately, there are no names, so no one’s really implicated. It’s all times, places, amounts, what the job was, that kind of stuff. Hopefully, that will change once we finish working out the code Joe wrote them in.”
She exhaled. “Nothing on Big Tony?”
“Not yet. But we did find something else of interest.”
She
leaned in, listening hard.
“Lucinda Villachi has an LLC that Big Tony has nothing to do with. We need to do more digging in that direction, but she’s definitely up to something.”
“She was here this morning.”
“About what?”
Donna filled him in. “She was acting oddly nice, which was obviously hard for her because she isn’t that good at it. She brought me banana bread. Can you imagine? Like I was going to eat that.”
“She had to want something.”
“She did. A memento of Joe’s. She was all weepy and whiny about how she wanted something to remember her brother by. She kept talking about this picture of the two of them from when they were kids at the state fair. She said it was in his office and that she just wanted to run in there and get it.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t let her.”
“No freakin’ way. We went into the office together. She didn’t find anything, and I didn’t remember seeing a picture like that, but after she left, I went looking again. In the stash room. That’s how I found the gun and the money. Oddly enough, the picture she described was with those two things.”
He frowned. “You didn’t mention that earlier.”
She lifted one shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in a family photo. It’s old and yellowed and must have been important to Joe. Or he was hiding it from Lucinda for a reason I can’t fathom. Anyway, all three things were together.”
“Where in the stash room? We cleaned that out.”
“There’s an access panel in the ceiling. I popped it open, and there they were.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I can’t believe I missed that.”
“I missed it too.”
“Are you turning the picture over to the Bureau?”
She made a face at him. “No. Is there a reason I should?”
“Not that I can think of, but if Lucinda wants it—”
“If anything, the picture was a ruse to get into Joe’s office. There had to be something else in there she was after.”
Rico nodded slowly. “You think she knows about the stash room?”
Donna considered that. “She might. As brother and sister went, they were very close. I don’t know that he confided things like that to her, but then again, there was a lot I didn’t know about Joe.”
“Like the Russians?”
“Exactly.” But if her meeting went well tonight, they’d be out of the picture.
“Have you heard from them since the incident with Yuri?”
She shook her head. “No. Maybe the fact that they haven’t seen him again was enough for them to leave it alone.”
“When there’s money and an inter-Mafia deal at play? I doubt that.” He glanced back toward the driveway. “Maybe they’re watching. Waiting for the right time. It has been a little busy around here lately.”
She threw her hands into the air. “Oh, thanks. That’s a happy thought.” Then she thought for a moment. “You know, there was a strange car sitting outside the place when we got home last night. The plate light was out, and the windows were tinted, so I couldn’t get any kind of info on the vehicle or the driver. Could have been Russians. Could have been anybody.”
Rico’s expression turned serious. “Might be time for us to start surveilling this place again.”
“Have at it. I’m leaving. As of tonight, I’m moving to the governor’s penthouse at the Wellman Towers.”
Rico let out a long whistle. “I’ve heard about that place. Totally swanky.”
“No one says swanky. But yes, it’s very swanky.” She smiled. “Come over anytime. I will gladly give you a tour.”
He tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his dark jeans. “I forgot for a second there that you’re governor. Moving to the penthouse makes it sound like you’re taking this pretty seriously.”
“I am. And why not? It’s a chance to get away from this life and start my new one with a purpose.”
“Becoming a vampire really suits you.”
“Thanks. I think.”
“It was a compliment.”
“Well, I appreciate it. Let me go get that gun and the cash, and then you can be on your way. I have a lot of packing left to do.”
“Sure thing. Would you bring the picture too? Just so I can have a look at it?”
“Yep.” Letting him look at it wasn’t going to hurt, but he was definitely not taking it. Not when it might be the leverage she needed over Lucinda.
“Great. While you get them, I’m going to grab some evidence bags.”
“Okay. Back in a minute.” She jogged upstairs, retrieved the items, and jogged back down as he was coming back in the front door.
She held out the items. “Here you go.”
He opened the first evidence bag. “For the gun.”
She placed it carefully inside, then held out the wrapped bundle of cash.
He opened the second evidence bag. “Thank you.”
She dropped the money in, then showed him the small, framed photo. The picture was in color, but faded and yellowed by time. The frame was cheap gold metal, and the backing was brown felt that was molting away in spots. “It’s nothing special.”
He took it from her, turned it over once, then again. “No, it’s not. Did you open up the frame?”
“No.”
He handed it back to her. She slid away the two little metal tabs holding the frame’s back in place. The felt was uncut on one side, acting as a hinge. She opened the frame carefully, thinking it might disintegrate in her hands.
Two little initials in wobbly script decorated the back of the photo. “L and J. Lucinda and Joe.”
She showed it to Rico.
He seemed nonplussed. “Why was it hidden away, then?”
“Maybe he was secretly sentimental? Although that doesn’t sound much like the Joe I knew.” She shook her head as she closed the frame. “I have no idea. Maybe he knew Lucinda wanted it, and he was keeping it from her. For another reason I don’t know.”
“I suppose it’s possible. People do weirder things for lesser reasons. Are you going to give her the picture?”
“I don’t know.” Donna looked at the faces of the children. So innocent. Hard to believe they would grow up to be two giant pains in her backside. “Lucinda hasn’t ever really done anything for me to feel kindly toward her.”
“Don’t you feel bad that she lost her brother?”
Donna raised her gaze to him without moving her head so that she was looking at him through her eyelashes. She stared at Rico for a moment like that, calming herself down so that she wouldn’t yell. “Don’t you think a good sister would have told her brother to get out of the life of crime he was in?” She finally raised her head to match her gaze. “The life that was destroying his family?”
Rico took a step back. “I can see by the glow in your eyes that I’ve struck a nerve. I know you don’t like her. But you said yourself you’re leaving this life behind. Why not give her that and get her off your back?”
“If I thought it was that simple, I’d do it. But I don’t believe Lucinda will ever truly leave me alone. She blames me for a lot. And an old photograph isn’t going to make that go away.” She was miffed at him for not seeing her side of things more clearly. “I hope I hear some good news from you soon. The kind where people have been arrested.”
“We’re working on it. I promise.”
“Great. Thanks for coming out. You know how to reach me if you need anything else.”
He nodded, his hand on the doorknob. “I didn’t mean to tick you off.”
Her mouth twitched, almost achieving a smile. “It was bound to happen while talking about Joe and Lucinda.” She took a breath to calm herself. “I really do appreciate you coming out on short notice. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have packing to do.”
He opened the door. A black Land Rover was pulling into her driveway. The day was waning, giving the sky that hazy, just-before-sundown look and pushing the
shadows out so they were long and thin and reaching.
He glanced at the car as Temo parked and got out. “You know that guy?”
“My new driver and head of security.”
Rico’s brows went up, but that was his only response. “Talk to you soon.”
She nodded and waited at the door for Temo.
He greeted her with a big smile. He had an Amazon box with him. “Hi, boss.”
“Hi, Temo. How was the drive?”
“Nice.” He looked up. “Quite a house you got here.”
“Don’t be too impressed. It was bought with blood money.”
He nodded. “Right. Mafia husband.”
“Right. What’s in the box?”
“Security cameras. Pierce thought it might be a good idea with you out of the house. They’re pretty easy to set up. Once I have them done, I’ll get the car loaded.”
“Hey, that’s awesome. Come on in.”
He came in. “I don’t want to interrupt. I’m sure you have plenty to keep you busy.”
“Just packing, mostly. In fact, I should get more of that done so you can take those boxes back with you. I’ll show you where the boxes are that are ready, then I’ll let you get to work.” Pierce had started a grouping in the living room, so she took him there first. “These can all go.”
“I’ll get to work.”
She left him and went back upstairs, her mind turning to the two meetings that lay ahead of her. Governor Fitzhugh and Boris Reznikov.
Which man was going to give her more trouble? Which meeting was going to be more fruitful? She had no idea. But she knew one thing for sure.
Both meetings would test her in some way. She just prayed she would pass.
Chapter Eight
Donna changed into a robe before sitting down with the manicurist. Each nail was filed into a short, blunt-ended shape the woman told her was called coffin. Seemed fitting, all things considered. Then she painted them the same deep, rich wine as the stilettos Pierce had picked out.
In the kitchen, where he was getting ready to make steaks for dinner, Donna splayed her fingers, showing him her nails. The hairstylist had just arrived and was setting up in the salon room, which Donna had to admit was a very cool thing to have. She wondered if Claudette had put it in or if it had already been here.
Suck It Up, Buttercup: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Novel (First Fangs Club Book 2) Page 6