Family & Fortune (The Adventures of Anabel Axelrod Book 5)

by Tracy Ellen

  ‘A third floor torture chamber?’ the sex kitten voice squeaked.

  ‘A bigger bookstore office?’ the accountant voice ventured.

  ‘A cabin in the north woods where nobody will hear your screams?’ the detective suggested.

  ‘I have it! How about a house with a white picket fence where the lovely, young couple of killers can live happily ever after?’ the mean mommy voice drawled snidely.

  I really, really needed a few good nights of sleep.

  Rubbing my forehead, I scanned the blueprints spread out on the massive table. Uncomprehending at first, my eyes moved swiftly over the entire design.

  “Why, you’re fortressing me!”

  Luke held up a commanding hand. “I understand you value your freedom and can take care of yourself, so I want you…”

  “Oh, you are the most amazing King of all Men!” I threw myself into Luke’s arms.

  “Okay, I can go with that.” Strong arms caught me and held me tight. His big hands rubbed my back while in a voice laced with pleasure, he stated, “You like the plans.”

  “No,” I pulled back and cradled his lean cheeks to smile up into his watchful eyes. “I love the plans. I’ve never felt more cherished in my life.”

  Before Luke could respond, I slowly started kissing him. I began with those beautiful eyes, an arched brow, the high bridge of his arrogant nose, and then ended by softly biting and tugging on his luscious lower lip. Licking its sensuous fullness with the tip of my tongue, I outlined his slightly parted mouth. Sliding my tongue inside, I swirled it around his and sucked gently, just wanting, needing a tiny taste. I couldn’t get enough of this man. Denying my desire only made the want sharper.

  Luke’s hands gripped my head and his mouth opened to cover mine. One tangled kiss of our tongues led to another and that led to some spectacularly heated groping.

  It was another few minutes before Luke teasingly growled, “Have pity woman, or we really will be too late to take care of business.”

  That got my attention. I stepped away from his embrace and checked the big clock on the kitchen wall. “Well, my gosh, how thoughtful. You gave me one hour to get ready to leave.”

  Luke had turned away to roll up the blue prints for Fortress Anabel, so he heard my dulcet tones but missed the narrowed eyes. “Hey, no problem. I know women need more than a few minutes to get ready.” Without looking up, he gave the plastic cap a final pat to seal it tightly on the tube and added with a fond smile, “I learned that from my dad. He gives my mother a time an hour earlier from when they actually need to leave.”

  I sucked in air between my teeth with a tiny hiss when he confirmed my suspicions.

  It was a glass half full relationship teaching moment teetering in the balance.

  Either I could share the destructive illogic of my boyfriend doing his damnedest to turn me into his mother, or I could have an extra hour every time Luke made plans for us to be somewhere.

  Heroically, I refrained from calling Luke a big, fat jackass.

  Instead, letting out my breath, I purred, “Your dad sure knows his woman.”

  I agree, it was a no brainer.

  Call me Mama, but beat-the-clock sex in the bathroom, hallway, and then the finale of being slammed against the bedroom wall and taken from behind had been too wildly hot.

  “Sorry it took me so long, but I’m finally ready to go, O Master of My World.”

  Luke’s head came up at that and I was treated to a measuring look, but I smiled happily in return and gestured grandly towards the stairs. We went outside through the bookstore’s rear entrance. Walking towards his truck, Luke pointed out the locations for the different features of his birthday present to fortify my secluded back parking lot.

  “Just think, not only will you have wireless hidden cameras everywhere throughout the inside of the building, but out here as well.”

  A man with a toy, it was amusing to see Luke go effusive describing technical details of the new security system. My learning style was more of the hands-on variety, so I watched his lips move while pondering optimum hidden camera placements to avoid recording dirty movies in my apartment.

  My Fortress Anabel present also included a ten foot concrete retaining wall around the open three sides of the parking lot--topped with iron spikes--an electronic sliding gate to close after business hours, bars on the garage windows along the alley, a covered exterior staircase up to my apartment balcony, a commercial-grade steel back entrance door into the apartment, extensive lighting placed for maximum security, and the upgraded security alarm system for the building that met Luke’s exacting professional standards.

  When Luke finished his techno accolades, I hugged his arm for warmth and pushed my lower lip out. “This is all great, but what about my very own sniper in a bell tower?”

  He put an arm around me and squeezed. “What’s it worth to you, baby?”

  I bit my lip and thought it over. “Hmm, five more practice blow jobs to get me over the amateur hump and then a month of serious knob polishing?”

  Luke came to a standstill. He lifted my chin with a finger to fix me with a searching gaze, a small smile hovering on his mouth. “Anabel, do you think of anything besides sex?”

  “Not so much anymore,” I answered frankly.

  He lifted his head to the stars. “God, out of all of Pam’s girlfriends to choose from, thank you for leading me to this particular woman to use.”

  “You bastard!” Laughing, I swatted at him while his tricky hands took their time “helping” me into the passenger seat of our Ford F150.

  Luke drove south on Hwy 3. After finding a good song on the radio, I tucked up a leg and got comfortable.

  “Okay, I can’t take the suspense anymore.” I clapped my hands in excitement. “What’s the secret mission tonight and how can I help?”

  “My business is not too complicated. I’m trying to prevent a couple of dumb fucks from getting killed and saving a couple of ladies from certain ruin.”

  “My hero!” I breathed, fanning my face.

  He laughed softly, but his reply was sardonic. “Apparently, I am your hero, Anabel.”

  I cocked my head, stymied by his tone. I knew several dumb fucks and a lady or two, but none that needed rescuing tonight. They would have called me if they did, not my scary boyfriend.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Near Owatonna.”

  I stared unseeingly across the dark truck at Luke until the dots connected. “Holy Hannah, you’re talking about the Ogelbachen brothers, aren’t you? But why do we have to save those two pervs and their snotty wives?”

  Luke shot me a pained look of disbelief. “A feisty little blonde held a gun on me and said I’d hurt her with my actions. She told me to fix the wrongs I’d done to innocent bystanders in pursuit of my revenge against Carter.” His demeanor couldn’t have been more humble when he added in a low voice, “I am doing my best to prove I’m worthy of her respect.”

  “Oh, Luke, Luke, Luke,” I murmured, patting my purse to be sure Rita was ready should I need to threaten him at gunpoint again for insulting my intelligence. There is no such mortal as a humble Genghis. Luke wasn’t outright lying, but the man was up to something. “I meant fix things with Pam and John Smith, not the whole world.” I sighed. “Please, you don’t have to prove a thing to me. Let’s go home, okay?”

  I was surprised when Luke didn’t come back with a smooth rebuttal, but pulled off the two-lane highway and into a gas station to turn around. Only he didn’t do a U turn for home, but stopped the truck in a parking space facing the convenience store.

  He scanned the area for a moment and then looked over at me. The sexy black stubble on his chin made a rasping noise as he rubbed it, obviously coming to grips with a decision. “Look, Anabel, I don’t want to play games with you.”

  “Okay, good,” I replied cautiously.

  “I meant all that, but I know you respect me.” He smiled tenderly and reached for my right hand, his thumb
lazily rubbing Sparky back and forth on my finger. “How could the King of all Men doubt it?”

  “Certainly not from my reverent attitude,” I agreed promptly.

  Luke squeezed my hand. “There’s something else going on, too. You understand the poker I play is for high stakes and involves some serious players, right?”

  We hadn’t talked in depth about poker, other than he’d played all over the world and it was profitable. I knew he had two big games planned in Vegas.

  “Like the million dollar pot competitions on TV?” I enjoy cards more than your average person and know various poker games, but my skills were nowhere near the big money level people like Luke played at.

  “Not quite. Most of the players I know would pull a gun if you tried to take their picture, much less appear on TV.”

  “Oh, gotcha. You’re talkin’,” I made a sign with my free hand, “gangsta poker.”

  Luke’s mouth quirked. “Closer.” Looking down, he laced our fingers together. “After our fight the night of Carter’s banquet, you made me think. I introduced his brothers to the big leagues and now they’re swimming in deep shit way over their heads. Long story short, last week, I got a tip about some the money the brothers owe to a man from Vegas who I’ve played cards with…”

  “Mr. V.G.,” I confirmed decisively, nodding encouragement for him to continue when Luke glanced up in surprise at the interruption.

  He glanced towards the gas station again before he looked back at me. His left hand started drumming faintly on the steering wheel, but his mouth was curved up in a faint smile. “Okay, God help me, but who is Mr. V.G.?”

  “First, what’s up with you and God tonight?”

  “Hey, I need all the allies I can get,” Luke replied, straight-faced.

  I laughed, loving his wit. “Mr. V.G. is short for Vegas gangsta.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I figured it would be easiest to keep your poker pals organized in my head by city, at least until I’ve met them all and got their real names straight. The mister is to show some respect. You know how touchy gangsters can be.”

  For a fraction of second, I glimpsed the incredulity in the widening of his eyes when Luke gawked at me. Then Genghis hid behind his default expression of cool neutrality. I didn’t think it was that crazy an idea I could possibly meet some of the people he played poker with at some time or another. His reaction only encouraged my outrageousness.

  I shook our clasped hands with enthusiasm. “Will you be hosting a game in Northfield soon? If you want, you guys can play in my dining room at the big table.” I sat up straight in excitement. “I know! I can serve my hot artichoke dip with pita bread that everybody raves about. I’ll ask Anna to make cupcakes decorated with cards or maybe poker chips.” I grinned and went on in a rush, “Heck, I won’t even care if you smoke cigars. I can light up those new bayberry tart candles I got from Larissa for my birthday. They smell soooo good and aren’t too girly. Of course, I’ll disappear out of your way after that, unless you want me to stay? Because,” I lowered my voice and gripped his hand tighter, “I’m not sure if this would be considered cheating or not, but I could send you signals if somebody is bluffing. I’m no poker expert, but I’m pretty darned good at tells.”

  Luke’s fingers on his left hand abruptly stopped drumming and he eyed me warily. I kept my expectant grin in place. It was fun watching him try to come up with a diplomatic response other than, “Are you fucking insane?” I have to give him credit for almost succeeding to completely disguise the shock of horror my words sent skittering up and down his spine. Again, it was the slightest flaring of his eyes that gave him away.

  Feeling somewhat better about Luke’s patronizing gift of an hour to get ready, I waved nonchalantly, “No worries. We can talk party details later.” I prodded him with another hand flip. “So go on, go on. You were saying, ‘Last week, you got the tip about the morons owing money to Mr. V.G.’…”

  Luke still eyed me suspiciously, but relieved at the respite from having to answer, he swiftly continued, “I had already made a deal with the morons and their wives that if the brothers stayed away from the tables for good, we’d work out something to save their businesses.”

  “Wow, you did? That’s generous of you.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t think I’m too altruistic because the odds are heavily in my favor I won’t have to lift a finger. In fact, I heard tonight one of the brothers is playing in a game. You and I are going to check it out to verify if it’s true.”

  “And if it is?”

  “It was through me the morons were able to set up a repayment plan to…Mr. V.G.”

  Rewarding him with a huge smile, I swiftly brought his hand up and kissed his knuckles. Luke’s cruel mouth twitched, but there was a warning glint in his eyes that prompted me to cover my small smile with another kiss to his hand.

  He squeezed mine hard in return. “Mr. V.G. is not the kind of man you fuck with because the first time gets you dead.” His voice went cold. “If one of those Ogelbachens is gambling before paying back every cent he owes and Mr. V.G. finds out,” he shook his head and grimaced, “I can’t help a dead man.”

  “No, you can’t,” I commiserated soothingly, “but, odds or not, you did try.”

  My thumb stroked his hand while we were both silent with our own thoughts.

  Mr. V.G. sounded vicious, but also short-sighted. Generally speaking, didn’t it make more sense to remove body parts rather than out-and-out kill those that betrayed? Luke couldn’t help a dead man, but Mr. V.G. couldn’t get his money back out of a corpse, either.

  I compared Mr. V.G.’s reputation to mine as a boss at Bel’s. If one of my employees was running short of cash before payday, everyone knew they only had to ask and I’d open the till to help them out. However, the couple of times I caught an employee with a hand in the till, I had prosecuted them to the full extent of the law. Perhaps Mr. V.G. found such an extreme reputation worked best at dissuading people from even thinking of screwing him over, too.

  Luke spoke first. “John likes Minnesota. We’ve been kicking around the idea of him becoming a partner in the offsite training here for DDL, as well as other directions we could take that business.” His voice was wry. “Do you think Pam might be interested in owning a travel agency?”

  I thought it over for a second. “It could get messy, considering the travel agency is currently owned by Pam’s sister-in-law,” but then I smiled at a vision of the new, improved pugilistic Pam, “or that could be the reason she jumps at the opportunity. There is no love lost between her and the awful Ogelbachens.”

  It could also get messy if the man-whore John Smith lived around here. Since hooking up with my friend, I was trying hard to give him the benefit of the doubt he truly intended to change his wicked ways. My far-reaching Northfield Network was becoming more entrenched every day, albeit I had a dimwit or two in the trenches. However, if John reverted to poking his pecker into anybody with a handy hole, odds were I would hear about it PDQ.

  Misinterpreting the reason for my big sigh, Luke said, “Yeah, none of us can fault Pam for that, but I won’t bring up the travel agency if you don’t think it’s a viable idea. So are we good? You sure you don’t want to shoot me?”

  His voice teased, but the overhead lights of the gas station revealed the serious gleam in the dark eyes waiting for my answer.

  I shook my head and marveled, “Whoever said men don’t notice the little details in life should try to get something by you, Mr. Tricky.”

  He pulled on my hand until I leaned over the console and our faces were inches apart. “I would never describe you as a little detail in my life, Princess.” His lips touched mine. “You’re much too loud.”

  I giggled and kissed him back. “We’re good.”

  “Good.” Luke opened his door. “I’m going inside to get a bottle of water. Do you want one?”

  “Please.”

  The song ended on the radio and a previously taped ad blared out. The perky voice of a popu
lar KDWB morning show host announced, “Studies show a man 5’ 10’’ or under is less likely to cheat on a girlfriend.”

  As the co-host bantered over what scientific reasons could possibly explain the results of the study, I murmured aloud, “Well, there you go, John Smith. If it’s a study, it must be true.”

  My eyes followed Luke as he walked into the gas station’s convenience store. I beat down my ongoing fetish to take a bite out of that athletically round ass disappearing into the building. Through the plate glass window, I could see the young girl at the counter straighten to attention and thrust her chest out at Luke’s entrance.

  Shaking my head at his charismatic effect on the female population, I had the strangest thought. I wondered how many other women could say they’d been cheated on by both of the major boyfriends in their life, ten years apart, yet each time it was a phony cheat and involved the same phony woman.

  Sitting back, I forgot about cheaters and phonies to let out a triumphant breath.

  I think I may have just witnessed a minor miracle or at least a significant breakthrough in our relationship. Maybe it was because I was the birthday girl, or maybe it had finally penetrated Luke’s Cro-Magnon skull that we’re stronger as a team, but whatever the reason, he had voluntarily shared all the mission information with me. I didn’t even have to use black magic or sleight of hand tricks, if you didn’t count patting my purse gun pocket, which I wasn’t. Genghis may have started off on shaky ground with that laughably humble “I want your respect” routine, but all I cared about were the end results.

  Already brimming with happiness, the next song sent me over the top when the Beatles started singing to me. They had heard it was my birthday. I sang along and had a good time, stomping my feet and seat dancing to the fun beat.

  Luke came into view inside the store again. My attention was caught when I saw him talking to a tall man near the checkout counter. I turned down the radio so I could see more clearly. I squinted to determine who else was crazy enough to be out after three in the morning on a Tuesday, but could only see the back of the guy, and he had on a hat. In the parking lot were two other cars, neither belonging to anyone I knew. One was a beat up old Toyota missing a hubcap and the other a black Lexus with out of state plates. I strained, but the angle wasn’t right to read which state.