by Beth Ciotta
Their goodbye kiss still sizzled through her body. “Call me if you need me,” he’d said. She’d dialed him on the spot, only her need was rooted in desire, not an emergency. After another heated kiss, he’d left, and after locking the front door, she’d beelined for her office. If she didn’t occupy her mind, she’d obsess on her future with Jack or her wacky, scary morning.
After firing up her computer, she’d scanned orders. Her gaze fixed on Bada-Bling! and…bada boom, all she could think about was her maybe, crazy run-in with mobsters.
Needing to vent, she’d called Faye on her new cell, only her friend was in the midst of a personal crisis. Her dad, a widower who’d relocated to Florida, had been in a car wreck and was going to be laid up for weeks.
“I’m abandoning Stan at our busiest time,” she’d said, “but he’ll survive. Not so sure about Dad. What if it’s more serious than he’s letting on? You know him—an independent bastard. I have to fly down to Orlando. I’m making it as easy as I can on Stan, pulling the kids out of school and taking them with me—”
“I’m sure Stan understands,” Kylie had interrupted, hoping to calm her frantic friend.
“Actually, it’s for the best. I think some time apart might help. I’m sorry I’m going to miss your grand opening, Kylie,” she said, skating over her husband woes, “but—”
“I love you, Faye. Go. Be safe. Give your dad a hug for me and call with an update when you can.”
“Okay. Thanks. Love you back. Have fun with Jack.”
Things were wonky with Stan and Faye, and now Faye’s dad was in trouble. Kylie was glad the news of her goon sighting hadn’t yet reached her friend. Like Faye needed another worry. Although maybe she’d assume, like everyone else, that it was just another ploy by Kylie to shake things up.
Feeling absurdly isolated, she’d clicked on a new e-mail from Dixie, who mentioned she was making a special pair of shoes just for Kylie as a thank-you for being her first and best customer. Kylie hit Reply, expressing her appreciation, then found herself typing: You’ll never guess what happened to me this morning!
Now Dixie, along with everyone in Eden, was going to think she was one shoe short of a pair. They were business associates who’d traded a couple of chatty e-mails, not friends. Yet Kylie had relayed her tale as though she’d been talking to Faye. Jeesh. It seemed she really needed someone to believe her. If only Travis had been around.
Instead, she was alone. No one to talk to. No one to rely on if she ran into trouble. Like facing down hooligans intent on robbing the store or fitting her with cement shoes.
Yikes.
Suffering an attack of the heebie-jeebies, Kylie zipped out of the office, checking the locks of the back and front door. No matter who those guys were, they’d still chased her and she was currently vulnerable. It was the first time in her life that she didn’t feel safe in Eden. Surely the feeling would pass, but until then she was on pins and needles. Not the kind of excitement she’d been looking for. She imagined Jack in New York City, where things like this happened all the time and young women didn’t stay alone anywhere without a lock on the door.
She thought about her cozy trailer in the woods, beyond screaming distance from any of her neighbors. No wonder Jack had been so intent on security lighting and double locks. Even if he didn’t believe Eden had been invaded by true gangsters, he worried about those prowling the world with bad intent in their hearts.
He didn’t want her hurt.
For a moment, Kylie wished back her boring, secure existence, where she’d laughed off such concerns.
Then she circled back to the cluttered, blah-boring office and realized there were some changes she didn’t wish back, like Jack in her bed, the renovations to the store and knowing Travis Martin. She should’ve asked Travis to renovate this part of the store, as well. It would have meant him sticking around a little longer. She’d been disappointed not to find him painting or fiddling with a fixture when she’d entered McGraw’s. Except he’d accomplished everything she’d asked for and more. His work was done. As for the grand reopening, all she had to do was haul out her merchandise and arrange new displays. For the first time ever, she wished she had help. It had been more interesting to share the workday with someone else.
She remembered then that Travis still needed to come by to pick up his check. When he did, she could always approach him about additional work. Feeling a little better, Kylie returned to the desk in search of her spare personal checkbook. When she opened the top drawer she spied a bulky envelope marked Kylie.
She didn’t recognize the writing. Curious, she pulled out the contents and gaped. A bundle of one hundred dollar bills, a handwritten letter and a computer printout for a flight reservation. “What the hey?”
She ruffled through the bills, guesstimating four or five thousand dollars. She glanced at the flight confirmation. A round-trip ticket to Hong Kong! Heart pounding, she read the letter.
Dear Kylie,
By the time you read this, I’ll be on a plane, flying toward my own dream destination. You inspired me. I’ve decided to shake things up by living the life I was born to lead. It’s possible you may hear some ugly truths in the future about my past. Please know, I am a good person at heart, though not nearly as pure as you. I worry that you will never experience your dream trip for varied reasons, always putting business or other people’s needs ahead of your own. For that reason I am gifting you with a nonrefundable round-trip ticket to Hong Kong and some spending money to use at will. Trust me, I can afford it.
I know the new and imaginative McGraw’s Shoe Shoppe will be a hit, and I suspect you’ll find much love and joy with Jack. Embrace your passion, Kylie, your dreams. Life’s too short. Your friend, Travis
Kylie read the letter twice. She stared at the money, at the flight confirmation. Conflicting emotions stormed her heart and mind. Confusion. Curiosity. Elation. Sadness. “Who are you, Travis Martin?”
The phone rang. The landline. Jack would’ve called her new cell. Switching into business mode, she snatched up the receiver, answering automatically. “McGraw’s Shoe Shoppe.”
“You mean McGraw’s Shoe Store. And why are you there on a Sunday? Your grandma and I have been trying to reach you for the past two hours. We told you we’d call you today. Did you forget?”
Kylie cringed at the sound of her mom’s hurt tone. “I’m sorry. It’s been a crazy day. I lost track of the time. So you’re in Anchorage now, right? Is it beautiful? What’s the temperature? Are you and Grandma taking any excursions?”
“We missed our excursion. I didn’t want to go anywhere until I heard your voice. Your grandma said you hired Travis Martin to do some renovations and now it sounds like you changed the name of the store. You blew off work to get your hair done and now you’re working on your day off. What’s going on with you, Kylie?”
She wanted to tell her mom about what she’d witnessed this morning, but then the woman would worry.
She wanted to gush that she’d had her first orgasm with a man, but that was too intimate. Sex wasn’t something she ever talked about with her mom. Plus, she wasn’t ready for Spenser to know about Jack, and surely her mom or grandma would find a way to let him know.
If she went into detail about the extensive renovations, they might freak and return home early, thinking she’d flipped her lid. Besides, maybe they’d love the new look at first sight.
She glanced at the ticket to Hong Kong and the stack of money, and imagined her mom stressing over her only daughter, Kylie, wandering around Asia without a chaperone. Not that Kylie was definitely going. She still couldn’t believe Travis’s generosity.
“I confess I made a few changes, Mom. Chalk it up to a birthday crisis. But mostly everything’s status quo,” she lied. “Same ol’, same ol’.”
JACK WAITED ON THE SIDE of the station house while Shy trotted in circles looking for a prime spot to whiz. “Hurry up, girl.” Even though work waited, he refused to go in without her. The way
his day was going, someone would steal her away or, worse, she’d run into the street and get hit by a car.
Still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, Jack surveyed Main Street and the moderate traffic. Even though the Apple Festival got busier as the week went on, a few early birds were flocking in. By this time Wednesday, he wouldn’t recognize half of the people in town. He wouldn’t know their backgrounds or personalities or what crimes they were capable of. An ordinary day in NYC on a much smaller scale. In one day, he’d gone from relaxed to alert. He hadn’t anticipated reconnecting with his old self this swiftly—a blessing and a curse.
Shy squatted and Jack looked in the direction of McGraw’s Shoe Shoppe. He wasn’t crazy about leaving Kylie alone. He wasn’t thrilled that his sister and niece were out of his sight. Today all of the women in his life had been threatened in some way. Looking at both incidents logically, through the eyes of a cop, he’d been able to put things in perspective.
The physical evidence combined with his brother-in-law’s shady behavior suggested the vandalism at Jessie’s house had been directed at Frank.
The lack of evidence and the improbability of a mob hit in Eden, suggested Kylie had been the victim of a prank. She’d been rattling a lot of chains lately. Maybe someone had rattled back.
Regardless, even if neither woman was at honest risk, both had been traumatized. Jack had spent the morning vacillating between pissed and concerned. So much for numb. This is how he should have felt—times ten—when they’d found Connie Valachi with a bullet in the back of her head and her tongue cut out. Instead of taking that mob hit in stride, he should have been furious. When they’d broken the news to her family, he should have empathized. But he’d shut down. His partner had called it a coping mechanism.
Jack didn’t want to cope. He wanted to serve and protect. He wanted to feel.
This moment he felt like an exposed wire. Alive and volatile.
He refused to shut down, but he did need to get a handle on his emotions. There was a fine line between worrying and obsessing. If he constantly feared his loved ones were in danger, he’d drive them ape-shit by being overprotective.
Step one: uncover the identity of the person who’d broken into Jessie’s home.
Jack whistled for Shy to follow. He sensed tension the moment they entered the station house.
Deputy Ziffel sat at his desk, phone in hand. “I was just about to call you, Chief. Did some investigating on my own. Put two and two together.” Looking like the cat that ate the canary, he gestured to a man sitting in the adjacent chair. “This is Pete Unger. He’s here to make amends.”
AFTER A BLOWOUT WITH Dr. Aversi, Carmine had checked himself out of the hospital. The only way to stave off another attack, he’d told the man, was to take action. Exerting control helped him to keep control.
Wanting this business with his brother under wraps, he’d refrained from calling one of the boys for a ride. Instead, he’d relied on a cab to shuttle him and Dixie to the brownstone where Turk had delivered their previously packed suitcases.
For the sixth time in less than forty minutes, he tried calling his nephew, then Buddah. Again, no answer. “Fuck! ”
“It’s a small town surrounded by cornfields and pig farms,” Dixie ventured softly as the cab navigated the traffic on Chestnut Street. “Maybe they ain’t getting any cell reception.”
Or maybe they were ignoring him. Carmine had read the McGraw broad’s e-mail twice. Either Turk and Buddah had taken control of the situation and whacked Tommy for breaking omertà or two other wiseguys had beaten them to it. Was it possible that computer geek who’d pinpointed Tommy’s location had leaked information to the Gambelli family?”
Tommy.
Carmine hadn’t said his brother’s name out loud in seven years. Now he’d never say it, because, if Kylie McGraw saw what she said she saw, his brother was dead.
He blew out a breath and massaged his chest.
Dixie reached over and squeezed his thigh. She didn’t speak. Sometimes she was smarter than he gave her credit for.
His cell phone chirped. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“Sorry, Chickie,” said Buddah. “We ducked into a bar and grill to grab a bite, thinking maybe we’d spy, uh, Travis, or maybe overhear something that would give us a clue. We heard something, all right. People think it’s a prank. They even laughed. But Turk and I…” He cleared his throat. “I’m leery to report this given your condition.”
“Give me the nut.” Carmine wanted to hear it from Buddah. His version.
It was almost identical to Kylie’s.
When the man finished, Carmine blew out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “So you didn’t do it.”
“What?”
Carmine told Buddah about the e-mail to Dixie from Kylie. “I thought maybe you and Turk disagreed with my order to bring my brother home—alive. Maybe you thought my judgment wasn’t so good given my bad heart and decided to make it easy on me by doing what I couldn’t do—for the good of the family.”
“You thought we betrayed you.” Buddah sounded insulted and hurt at the same time.
“Let’s just say I can see Turk losing his temper if someone spit on his shoe,” Carmine said. “Where is he now?”
“On his phone, digging. He thinks someone leaked information. Thinks the Gambellis might have sent someone to finish what they started seven years ago.”
“I had that thought, too.” Carmine passed a fifty to the driver after he pulled up to the curb. “Listen to me, Buddah. I want you to keep an eye on this Kylie McGraw. If they think she can identify them, they might be brazen enough to stick around and silence her. I want her safe. She befriended my brother. I owe her.”
“Will do, Chickie. And if we run into the Gambellis?”
“I’ll be there tomorrow. If I can’t make amends with my brother, I will avenge his death. Capiche?”
“Capiche.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“I KNOW IT WAS WRONG to break into your sister’s place, Chief Reynolds. But I wasn’t thinking straight. You have to understand. Mya’s my daughter. My only kid. She’s seventeen, for God’s sake. Frank’s in his thirties. Aside from the fact that he seduced an underage girl, he took pictures.” Pete Unger shoved both hands through his hair, then sagged back in the chair. “I didn’t know about the…affair. Didn’t even suspect. I’m a widower. I do my best, but I guess that’s not good enough, otherwise she wouldn’t have fallen for that perverted prick, right?”
Jack glanced at his office door, making sure it was closed. He didn’t give a flying fuck about Frank’s reputation. But he cared how the man’s exploits would affect Jessie and Maddie, and Unger’s kid, Mya. “Mr. Unger—”
“Mya locked herself in her room for three days. You don’t know what I went through to get her to confide in me. She thought he loved her. Thought he’d send for her. But of course he didn’t. Then she started fretting about the…” Pete turned away, worked his jaw. “About the compromising photos. She said Frank belonged to a racy social network. Worried that he might post those photos on the Internet now that he was through with her. I was in a red haze when I broke into your sister’s house. I wanted those pictures. I wanted to destroy Frank. Since he wasn’t there, I destroyed his office.”
“Did you find the photos?” Jack asked.
He nodded. “On his hard drive. Along with some other disgusting shit. I worried that maybe he’d seduced and photographed other teens in town. I extracted all the files.”
“You know how to do that?”
“I’m a trouble-shooter for a computer company. Allows me to work at home. After I got what I wanted, I smashed the hard drive and monitor and kept going. Couldn’t stop myself.”
Jack understood and said so.
Just then his office door swung open and Jessie blew in.
Well, hell.
“Someone said they saw Deputy Ziffel escorting you into the station house,” she said directly to Pete. “I j
ust…something told me…it was you, wasn’t it?”
Pete stood and faced her. “I’m sorry, Jessica Lynn, but Frank, he…”
“I know.”
Jack stood as well. “You do?”
“I only recently heard and I…I guess I blocked it out. I didn’t want to believe…” She blushed head to toe. “I’m so sorry, Pete.”
“Not your fault,” he said.
“I’m not pressing charges,” she said to Jack.
“Okay.” Given the circumstances, he was glad about that. He also didn’t feel the need to lecture Pete on right and wrong. “You’re free to go, Mr. Unger.”
“I appreciate that, Chief Reynolds. About the damages, Jessica Lynn, I’ll make good.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” she said. “I’m glad you destroyed Frank’s things. And if you see him, feel free to—”
“Jessie,” Jack warned.
Pete turned to shake Jack’s hand, pressing a flash drive into his palm. “You need to see this,” he said softly, then turned to leave.
Jessie didn’t follow him out. She stood rigid.
Jack ached to hug her, but sensed it wasn’t the time. Discreetly, he slid the flash drive beneath a magazine on his desk. She knew about Frank’s affair with their babysitter, but she didn’t know about the salacious photos. From what Pete had said, Jack assumed he’d found incriminating evidence featuring other Eden teens. He wasn’t looking forward to reviewing those files.
“You okay?” Jack asked his sister.
“I will be when this is over. When I’m divorced.”
“Tomorrow.”