by Vicki Hinze
“You did, yes.”
“I really did,” I insisted. “I’m not keeping secrets.”
“I know.” He nodded, clasped my hand and gave it a little squeeze. “You told me.”
“Well, if the two of you will hush up, I’ll tell you this ain’t got nothing to do with Jackson,” Lester said. “It’s about Chris.”
“Chris?” I said, momentarily baffled. “Rachel’s husband, Chris?”
“That’s the one, girl.”
“What about him?” Mark pulled himself up, stiffening like a plank of wood. “Was he hurt?’
“Naw, he’s fine.” Lester looked at Emily. Wary, and hesitant.
“Go on and tell him. He can take it,” Emily said, motioning at Mark. “Daisy’s told him everything and he hadn’t gone ballistic or dumped her. Not that it’d matter if he did. He’s got no choice on this bit of business.”
“No choice on what bit of business?” Mark asked.
Still, Lester hesitated.
“Good grief, will you just tell ’em? You’re making ’em both nervous wrecks, Lester.” Emily clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth and leaned forward. “Before the party, we saw Chris talking to Lou Boudin out by the limo. It was real friendly-like. So we bugged his car.”
“You bugged Lou Boudin’s car?”
“No, Mark,” Lester said. “Chris’s limo, though bugging Lou Boudin’s car would have been a good idea. We just didn’t have two bugs.”
“It was you following the limo?” Matthew asked for confirmation neither of us needed.
“Yep. Backed off when he started driving squirrely. Knew we’d been made, so we backed off until you two were in the Honda. Then it seemed to Emily like you spotted us, so we had to trust you two would get out of there on your own. We headed over here,” Lester said. “Didn’t figure it would take you quite so long.”
“After being followed twice—he took the scenic route to be sure we were alone,” I explained.
“Figured that.” Lester looked at Mark. “Point is, you two weren’t outta the limo two minutes when Chris made a phone call. From the conversation, it was clear he was letting somebody know you were in the Honda and headed out. He didn’t know where.”
“We didn’t tell him.” Boy, was I glad now we hadn’t.
“That’s a mercy,” Emily said with an emphatic nod. “It surely is.”
Mark frowned. “He was probably talking to his wife.”
“He wasn’t talking to Rachel.” Mr. Perini sighed. “Not unless she’s related to Victor Marcello.”
“Victor Marcello?” My throat turned to dust.
Mr. Perini nodded. “A friend traced the call. The number belongs to Victor Marcello. He doesn’t take well to visitors, just relatives.”
Mark’s expression tightened, then closed. “Why would Chris call Marcello?”
“It seems pretty obvious,” Mr. Perini said. “Marcello got to him.”
I wanted to sob—and hit something. Betrayed by Chris. Mark trusted him and Rachel. How could Chris do this? Why would he? No matter the reason, that he had would burn Mark deeply, and he’d been burned more than enough already. I mounted a defense I didn’t quite believe. “Duress. He had to be under duress.”
Lester harrumphed. “Then he’s been under it for nearly a decade.”
“A decade?” Incredulity rippled through Mark.
Feeling it, I tensed, wadded my hands into fists in my lap. “What exactly are you saying, Lester?”
“I’m saying, Daisy girl, Chris has been on Victor Marcello’s payroll for ten years. That’s what I’m saying.”
What that meant to Mark hit me hard. Betrayed and wounded didn’t begin to describe it. Violated. To the bone.
Mark grimaced at me. “As soon as I use that email he gave me, they all know where we are.”
“They would,” Mr. Perini said. “But you won’t be using it.”
“I have to use it,” Mark said. “It’s my only channel to my assets. Rachel has my full power of attorney.”
Mr. Perini spread his feet and leaned forward on his seat, then rested his arms on his thighs. “Let me explain the situation to you, Mark. The first time you use that email, you’re signing your death warrant and Daisy’s. Without using it, in my estimation, you’ve got hours not days before they track you here anyway.” His expression sobered. “The life you had and everything you had in it—it’s all gone, son. The sooner you accept that, the better off you’ll be. And, I suspect that’s why Chris turned on you. If you’re out of the picture, Rachel inherits everything, right?”
Mark nodded, clearly strained but holding together. “I need a lawyer.”
“Now?” I asked, not bothering to hide my surprise at that remark. “What are you going to do?”
He looked from Paul to me. “I’m going to revoke the power of attorney and my will. Leave everything to . . .”
“To whom?” He had no one but Rachel.
Mark’s expression cleared. “To the brother of my wife, as soon as I have a wife.”
“Jackson?” Shock ripped through me. “You’re going to leave everything you’ve got to Jackson?”
“He’ll be my family.”
Lester cackled. “Well, that’ll fix that.”
“You’re sure about this, Mark?” Mr. Perini asked.
“Positive. Can you get a lawyer over here? A good one that is well versed in Louisiana and Florida law. I want this locked down so tight a gnat couldn’t find a crack in it.”
“Jackson?” I asked again, dumbstruck.
“Jackson.”
My brother had no idea what good fortune had just fallen in his lap—or the danger that came with it. “Is this your way of making me pay for my sins against you?”
“I’m making your brother a rich man because everyone in my life has betrayed me and you ask me that?”
“Jackson.” I drew in a breath, wrung my hands. “Will they come after him?”
“Why would they?” Mr. Perini asked. “Neither of you have talked to him. He knows nothing. They’ve no reason to bother Jackson unless you contact him.”
Lester grunted. “They’ll be watching for that, all right.”
Emily nodded. “No doubt about it. Victor Marcello is nothing, if not thorough.”
By Mark’s body language, the matter was resolved. He proved my thoughts on that by turning the subject. “Why are you thinking they’ll find us in a couple hours, Mr. Perini?”
Barry came rushing into the room. He held something up in both hands.
“Took you long enough,” Mr. Perini told him. “You should have found those within the first five minutes. You’re slipping, Barry. It’s critical you keep your skills sharp.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What are those things?” I asked, looking at the little black boxes and the wires attached to them.
“They’re why I was certain you had hours.” Seeing my confusion, he elaborated. “They’re the means by which Marcello and Adriano—or the FBI, depending on who put them in the car—will find you.”
Lester groaned. “There it is, Em.”
“There’s what?” Emily asked, straining to see.
“The stuff in that hand,” Lester pointed to Barry’s left, “is the bug and tracker we put in the Honda. It’s what’s in Barry’s other hand that worries me.”
“Another bug?” My heart slid out of my chest and took up residence in my stomach. “Are you saying someone heard every word Mark and I said to each other in that car?”
“Heard you? No, ma’am,” Barry said. “It’s just a tracker. It signaled your location, but they couldn’t hear you.”
“Small mercy.” Mark’s lips flattened to a slash. “Chris had to do it.”
“He did.” Lester nodded. “Seen him myself, which is why Em and me were following you.”
Fear zipped up my spine. “Then they already know we’re here.”
“Barry.” Mr. Perini moved to the desk and dialed the phone. “Finish getting the
car ready and summon the team. I want that VIN number left legible after all this.”
“Yes, sir. I’m on it.” Barry disappeared into a hallway then from sight.
Paul perched a hand on his hip, spoke into the phone. “Dexter, it’s Paul Perini. I need your help, and I need it fast.” He went on to explain in some kind of muffled shorthand what he needed and then hung up the phone. “Emily, watch email. The documents will be here within half an hour.”
“Was that the lawyer?” Mark asked.
Mr. Perini nodded. “Dexter Devlin. One of the best—“
“In the country,” Mark said. “And you’ve got him on speed dial?”
He shrugged. “We go way back.”
“Do you know him, Mark?” I asked.
“Not personally, no.”
There was more so I waited.
Mark hiked a shoulder. “Dexter Devlin has one of the sharpest legal minds in recorded history. My dad and I followed his cases. Anytime a high-profile client needs a lawyer or when it seems all is lost, everyone with the resources calls in Dexter Devlin. He rarely loses.” Mark frowned at Mr. Perini. “He’s also next to impossible to retain.”
Mr. Perini shrugged. “Like I said, we go way back.”
“Then this is good news. Chris won’t get away with your assets.” I felt compelled to add, “I accept that he’s rotten, Mark, but I just don’t believe Rachel is. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”
“Yeah.” He turned to look at me. “At some time, we can contact Jackson, and he’ll be there for us. Chris wouldn’t—and Rachel wouldn’t because she couldn’t be there for us and keep the peace with her husband.” Mark turned on the sofa toward Mr. Perini. “You told Barry to summon the team.” Paul nodded, and Mark then asked, “What team? Summon them for what?”
“An accident, I think. A fiery one. Lots and lots of heat.”
“What are you talking about?” Mark asked.
“You’re going to die tonight,” Paul said calmly. “Actually, both of you are. I’d hoped for a little more time to train you on surviving off the grid and on evasion tactics, but the families have made the timing choice for us.”
“Ain’t no help for it. It’s out of our hands, all right.” Lester shook his head. “Well, it is what it is.”
I stared from them to Mark and he seemed as pole-axed as I felt.
“Lester, you best get finished with the paperwork for after.” Paul spared Mark and me a glance. “Don’t worry. You’ll die, then Matthew Green and Rose—that’ll be you, Daisy—will get out of here. We’ll take care of everything, including seeing to it Jackson has smooth sailing.” Mr. Perini stood up and cleared his throat. “All we need to know is one thing.”
One thing? At least a thousand things were fighting for attention in my mind.
“What’s that?” Mark asked.
“Do you want to die before or after the wedding?”
Chapter 10
“WELL?” MR. PERINI seated a red newsboy cap on his head, then waited.
The lump in my throat felt huge. “I’ll go with whatever Mark decides.”
“After,” he said. “I want it, and Emily got you a dress and everything.”
“You two being hitched will make any legal case stronger on Jackson’s inheriting, too,” Lester said. “If Chris and Rachel should decide to dispute it.”
“Daisy, please.” Mark dropped his voice. “Don’t let them get away with taking everything I worked for, too.”
“All right.” I agreed, but I did it knowing this wasn’t just about that, it was about Mark having ties to something. To someone. To me.
“Thanks.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. For the first time, I felt truly special to someone other than Jackson and Lester. That it was a gorgeous man who was good and decent and so much more was the proverbial icing on the cake.
So okay, marrying Mark wasn’t exactly crazy but it by no means ranked anywhere near normal or traditional. Still, it made more sense than anything else that had happened in my life since I kissed the concrete in Biloxi and saw Edward get murdered—and I am crazy about Mark and about to die. Jackson would be cared for, too. He’d never lack for a thing. Mark knew, of course, that would seal this for me, but it also showed me how much Mark wanted this marriage. How much it meant to him. And that, I find quite charming and endearing.
Oh, all right. And a little sappy. I’m not blind, and I see it. I haven’t had a lot of experience with mushy stuff, but I am human and it does touch me. I can’t afford to let it go to my head. I mean, just think a minute. I’m in a bit of an unusual situation here, and I have one shot to marry a man I really care about before I’m lost and gone forever. My life might not seem like much to others, but it’s mine. I built it from nothing by myself. It’s all I’ve got, and it’s going away. I worked so hard to make Daisy Grant a good person, someone respectable and that I respected, and tonight she will cease to be. Marrying Mark is Daisy’s last hurrah. So blame me for taking it. I don’t care. I’ve done without and had less than I needed—forget what I wanted—my whole life. Not just my adult life, my whole life. I’m not complaining, but I’m not kicking this gift in the mouth, either. This is my last chance and my last shot, and I’m taking it. “All right. I’ll marry you, Mark.”
Emily squealed and ran for the dress.
He squeezed my upper arms and planted a hard fast kiss to my lips. “Go on and get ready. We’ll talk more afterward.”
I stepped even closer and dropped my voice so only he could hear. “You’re really sure you want to do this?”
“Yeah, I am.” He tilted his head. “My mom was always on me to find a good wife. I think she would have liked you.”
My heart rate sped up. “You’re marrying me for your mother?”
“No. I’m marrying you because I’m marrying you,” Mark said, his tone steely but level.
This wasn’t about me. Not really. Or his mother. It was about everything and more, including abandonment. One can’t just walk away from a spouse. I clasped his hand. “All right, then. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“You want a tux for the pictures?” Lester asked. “Paul’s got a lot of ’em.”
“Let me guess,” Mark said. “He does tuxedo rentals on the side.”
“During prom season mostly, but he keeps a few around.”
“For funerals?” Mark grunted. “Why not?”
“Good attitude, son.” Lester smiled. “Daisy will like the pictures. Most women do.”
“Daisy will be dead. So will Mark.”
“No reason to get all persnickety about it. Jackson will have it. It’ll mean a lot to him.”
Lester grabbed a tux from a side room, then returned with it to Mark, unaware that standing in the room next door, I could hear every word uttered. Emily was well aware, and she and I both pretended to be deaf as dead stumps while going about our business as quiet as church mice so we didn’t miss a thing.
“Here you go.” Lester passed the tux to Mark.
“Black.” On the other side of the wall, Mark made noises like he was shrugging into the jacket. “I’ll keep my own pants. Switching black for black—it’s overkill.”
A few minutes later, Mark said, “It fits pretty good.”
“It does.” Lester dusted at Mark’s shoulders and smoothed the fabric between his shoulder blades. “You realize that once you’re dead, you and Daisy ain’t gonna be married no more.”
“’Til death. Yes, I realize it.”
“You’ve had a lot to take in tonight.”
“I have.”
“I wouldn’t be letting you marry her—even with conditions being what they are—if I didn’t think you cared about her. For all her little flaws, Daisy’s got a head on her shoulders. She’s devoted and loyal, and she’ll make a good wife to the lucky man she chooses to love.”
“She’s a good woman, I agree.” Mark paused and his voice hinted at him being bewildered. “Does anyone choose to love, Lester? Reall
y? Isn’t it something that’s just there in you, or it’s not?”
On the other side of the wall, I held my breath.
“Sometimes it’s that way. You might be dead set against love, but if it’s there, it’s there. Might as well accept it. Love’s got some good in it. Sure as certain.”
“Love is a gift,” Mark countered. “Unfortunately we don’t often realize all the ways it impacts us until we lose it.”
“That’s the way of things. It’s a gift, but it’s a nightmare too—when it ain’t returned.”
“Did you love someone and it wasn’t returned? Is that what this is about?” Mark’s voice lifted. “Or are you afraid I won’t love Daisy or be good to her?”
“This ain’t about me, though I’ve had my fair share of troubles with Mr. Cupid. It’s about my Daisy.” Lester paused, then added, his voice strained. “I know you’ll take care of her. But taking care of her and loving her . . . well, that there’s two different things.” Lester paced a bit then stopped. “The fact is, she’s all I got, son. I want her loved. You treat her right because she deserves it, but you love her because you can’t not love her. And because . . . she’s all I got.”
Mark’s voice turned tender. “She’s all I’ve got, too, Lester.”
“We understand each other, then.”
“Yes, we do.” Mark coughed. “I hope she’s thinking about these things in there like we are out here.”
“She’s a woman. They don’t think like men.”
“You know what I mean.” Mark straightened his tie.
“Lemme do that.” Lester grabbed the tie and began fiddling with it. “Yep, you’re wanting to be loved, too. Well, don’t you worry. She’ll settle in. One thing I know about Daisy Grant. She needs loving. I’m guessing only Jackson ever cared if she lived or died—least ’til I came along.”
“You love her?”
“Like a daughter.” He pulled at the edge of the bow, straightening it. “She’ll never leave you, son, and once you get into her heart, you’ll be there to stay. That girl’s longed to love somebody her whole life. Make sure you’re that lucky man.”