Double Espresso (A Loretta Kovacs thriller)

by Anthony Bruno

“What the hell’s he doing here?” Rispoli sputtered angrily.

  Alan was decked out in his nerdy best, pocket protector and all. His body language was unmistakable. Even though his shyness made him hesitant, taking two steps, then stopping for a second before he started again, he was leading with his groin as if he had a bloodhound down there.

  Loretta’s body language was pretty clear, too. Her fists were on her hips, and her knees were locked. Marvelli couldn’t make out her face very well at this distance, but he could sure imagine the expression. Fierce and forbidding. Don’t even get near me, buster.

  But with Loretta decked out the way she was, the hound dog in Alan’s corduroys could not be scared off the track. He smelled something very enticing, and he wanted a closer look. Probably wanted to touch, too. Marvelli knew just how Alan felt because he felt pretty much the same way himself.

  “Crap!” Rispoli hissed. “We got more trouble.”

  “What?” Marvelli said.

  Rispoli pointed with his smoldering cigarette again. “Over there. On the corner.”

  Marvelli zeroed in on the fancy jewelry store on the corner. Standing in front in a dark suit was Taffy Demaggio. He was staring at Loretta and Alan.

  Marvelli could feel butterflies fluttering in his chest. He let out a long, slow breath. “Oh, boy,” he said.

  28

  “Loretta?” Alan had stars in his eyes as he approached her. He had a white bakery box in his hand.

  “What’re you doing here, Alan?” She glanced sideways at the green Taurus, hoping one of them would come over and escort Alan away.

  “Bear claws,” he said, holding up the box. “There’s a place down here that makes great ones. You want one?”

  “No thanks.” Actually she wouldn’t mind having a little nosh because she hadn’t had dinner yet, but a sweet pastry would only make her want a cup of coffee even more than she already did. Her head was throbbing from caffeine deprivation.

  He inched a little closer, and she backed toward the fur store’s doorway. She had to get rid of him.

  “Loretta, you look so … different,” he said.

  Yeah, like a hooker, she thought sarcastically.

  “I … I like your new look. I really do.”

  Oh great, she thought. Just what I need right now. A lovesick puppy.

  She didn’t have much sympathy for him because he was staring at her cleavage, not her face. So typical, she thought. Men are all the same. Even the geeks.

  “Don’t you have someplace to go, Alan?” she asked, trying to give him the hint.

  “Me? No, not really. I can hang out. If that’s okay with you, I mean.” He was doing that guy thing, tiptoeing around what he really wanted so that if she rejected him, he could make like he never really wanted to hang out with her in the first place. Marvelli did that all the time, and she hated it. Not that she could ever figure out what he really wanted. The only thing she knew for sure was that it wasn’t her.

  “Alan, why don’t you go home?” she said. “I’m sort of busy here.”

  “Oh … Well, I could just keep you company. I’m not doing anything right now. I could even help you. If that’s okay.”

  “No, Alan, it’s not okay. I told you—”

  “Excuse me.” A tall, very tan man in a dark blue European-cut suit suddenly appeared at Loretta’s side. She hadn’t heard him coming. “Is this person giving you trouble, miss?” he asked.

  In the shadows of the storefront, it took a second for Loretta to realize that this was Taffy Demaggio. His voice was surprisingly warm and deep. She’d expected a dese-dem-and-dose kind of a guy, but he wasn’t that way at all. He was well built with a trim waist and a broad chest. She guessed that he was in his early fifties, but he had a full head of thick salt-and-pepper hair. He also had black-olive eyes that crinkled and sparkled. She glanced down at his hands, which were clasped in front of him. Amazingly he didn’t even have a pinky ring.

  Alan was glaring at him, two hot little eyeballs under one straight eyebrow. “I’m not giving her any trouble, mister. I know her.”

  “Alan, why don’t you go home?” she said, hoping he would just go without a fuss. She finally had Taffy on the line; she didn’t want to lose him.

  “I think I’d better stay,” Alan said stubbornly. He was going to defend her honor.

  She rolled her eyes. Oh, please, she thought.

  “Listen, my friend,” Taffy said, flashing a menacingly perfect set of teeth, “the lady has made her wishes clear. Now I suggest you honor those wishes and take off. Immediately.” Taffy leaned into him and reinforced the point with his body. Taffy had the stance of a light heavyweight; Alan was a great big marsh-mallow. Despite the age difference, Taffy was the hands-down favorite.

  Alan looked to Loretta for support, but she couldn’t cut him any slack, not in front of Taffy.

  “Go, Alan,” she said dismissively, hiding the fact that she felt bad for him.

  “You heard the lady,” Taffy said. “Go, Alan.” He flashed his perfect teeth.

  Alan looked like he was going to cry. “ ’Bye,” he mumbled to Loretta as he turned and quickly walked away, the bakery box dangling by his side from two fingers.

  Loretta turned to Taffy. “Thanks,” she said. “I just moved here because of him.” She nodded toward Alan. “I didn’t know he’d turn out to be such a jerk.”

  Taffy shrugged sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Say, you wouldn’t know of any good restaurants around here, would you? I want to celebrate.”

  “Celebrate what?”

  “The end of Alan.”

  Taffy laughed. “Well, I’m not from around here myself, but I think there’s a good Italian place near here. In fact, I was on my way there right now. I realize you don’t know me, but I’d appreciate having some company. I don’t like eating alone in restaurants.”

  “Me neither,” she said.

  “So would you like to join me?”

  Loretta just looked into his eyes. His soothing voice was like the warm, sweet taste of hot fudge. She waited, watching his shining eyes. They didn’t wander down to her cleavage or anyplace else for that matter. He was waiting for an answer.

  “If you don’t want to,” Taffy said, “I understand. I apologize for asking.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “I would like to.” She knew he was a mobster with a long résumé of serious crimes, but he was charming as hell, not at all the greaseball that Marvelli had described. Besides, she was supposed to be luring him in.

  “It’s just on the next block” he said. “We can walk.” He extended his open hand to indicate the way.

  Loretta grinned, and she didn’t have to pretend.

  “That was great,” Loretta said as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. The remnants of two lobsters littered their tomato-sauce-stained plates and a large discard bowl in the middle of the table. Taffy had ordered lobster fra diavola for two.

  “I’m glad you liked it,” Taffy said. He was looking into her eyes, his elbows on the table, fingers linked on his chin. His eyes were still crinkling and twinkling.

  The restaurant was old-style Italian—dim lighting, minimal decor, white tablecloths, and flickering candles in green-tinted glass holders on every table. The room seemed to absorb sound, so that even though there were at least thirty other people having dinner around them, Loretta felt that their conversation was their own.

  “This place is a real find,” Loretta said. “Have you been here before?”

  Taffy shook his head.

  “Did someone recommend it?”

  He shook his head again. “I have a rule whenever I go traveling. I get the phone book, and I look for restaurants called Michael’s. Every town seems to have one, and they’re always good. I’ve never been disappointed. I don’t know why, but it always works out that way.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.

  “You do that. Who knows? Maybe I’ll run into yo
u sometime.”

  She shrugged and grinned. “Maybe.”

  She picked up her champagne flute and took a sip. He had ordered a bottle of Cristal, which she’d heard was better than Dom Perignon, but of course she’d never tasted either so she couldn’t say. What she could say was that the Cristal was divine, and even though what was left in her glass was a little warm, it was still great. Everything about the meal was great. Even Taffy, she had to admit.

  She wished she could build up a little animosity toward him, but it was very difficult. Marvelli would have a cow if she knew what she was thinking, but she really had no reason to hate Taffy. She’d never seen the results of his hospital-supply scam or any of his other criminal enterprises. All she saw was a very courteous gentleman who’d treated her to a scrumptious dinner at an elegant restaurant. Sure, this was shallow thinking, and she knew it, but she hadn’t been taken out on the town like this in a very long time, and occasionally a person needs this kind of thing. Marvelli had never taken her out, except for pizza, and they always went dutch. Besides, it was Marvelli and the two hit men who had wanted her to get done up like a bimbo. Okay, fine. If that’s what they wanted, then she got to take the bimbo perks. It was only fair.

  “You ready for dessert?” he asked.

  “Gee, I don’t know.…”

  “Have you ever had zabaglione?”

  “No, what’s that?”

  He closed his eyes and waved his head as if he were getting light-headed. “It’s the best. It’s a custard that they make right at the table layered with fresh strawberries. You have to try it.”

  “You don’t have to twist my arm.”

  “And coffee? Maybe cappuccino? Espresso with some sambuca in it?”

  Espresso with sambuca sounded awfully tempting. And she was also tempted to have real espresso, the high-octane stuff. She’d been feeling crappy ever since she’d given up caffeine, and this really was the perfect meal. She couldn’t top it off with just a decaf. She reached for her champagne glass and drained it. Hey, why not? she thought. She could quit again tomorrow.

  “Espresso sounds good,” she said. “Make mine a double.”

  Taffy smiled, crinkling his eyes even more. “You got it, sweetheart.”

  Taffy gave the waiter their dessert orders. “Zabaglione for both of us and two double espressos with sambuca. In fact, why don’t you just bring the bottle.”

  The waiter, a poker-faced young man with sleepy eyes and a tiny mouth, nodded. “Anything else, sir?”

  “Not right now,” Taffy said.

  After the waiter left, Taffy poured out the last few drops of champagne into Loretta’s glass. “Go ahead. Finish it,” he urged.

  “Okay,” she said with a cute little shrug.

  He deliberately maintained eye contact with her because he knew broads liked that. It made guys seem sensitive. If she only knew what he was thinking. He had a boner for her like a Louisville slugger. This woman was nice, he thought. She reminded him a lot of Cathy Dunne, the one who couldn’t take a little rough sex. Poor kid. It was too bad about her. Maybe he did get a little carried away.

  But Loretta here looked a lot hardier. He was willing to bet she could take it. That night with Cathy had been absolutely incredible, and he was thinking maybe he could recreate it with Loretta. She definitely looked like she could take it. He’d try to be more careful this time.

  Of course, strangling Cathy was sort of what made it incredible. That made it special.

  The waiter returned, pushing a cart filled with ingredients—eggs, cream, sugar, lemon, and fresh strawberries in a white ceramic bowl. A wire whisk sat in a large copper mixing bowl. Without a word, the waiter went to work, cracking eggs and pouring in ingredients.

  Taffy raised his eyebrows to get Loretta’s attention. When she acknowledged him with a smile, he smiled back.

  “You’re gonna love this,” he said.

  29

  The green Taurus was parked across the street from Michael’s Restaurant. Marvelli was behind the wheel, holding a pair of binoculars to his face, peering through the quaint leaded-glass windows at Loretta and Taffy laughing and eating zabaglione, having a great old time. Taffy kept putting his hand on Loretta’s forearm to emphasize whatever it was he was saying to her.

  The son of a bitch better keep his hands to himself, Marvelli thought, before I go in there and ram his arm down his throat and pull it out his—

  “Hey, Frankie,” Sammy interrupted, “gimme the binoculars. I wanna look.”

  “Nothing to see,” Marvelli grunted. “They’re just eating.”

  “What’re you so grouchy about?”

  Rispoli piped up from the backseat, “He’s jealous, stupid.”

  “Who? Frankie?” Sammy threw his arm over the seat back and turned around to face Rispoli.

  “Why, sure!” Rispoli said. “He’s got a thing for this Loretta girl. Can’t you see that?”

  “I don’t have a thing for Loretta,” Marvelli said, keeping the binoculars on his face.

  “You don’t think you do, but you do,” Rispoli said. “You’re crazy,” Marvelli said. “We just work together.”

  “I got eyes,” Rispoli said. “I can see what’s going on.”

  “There’s nothing going on. You saw nothing.” Marvelli was getting mad.

  “That’s the whole point,” Rispoli said. “I’ve been watching you two together, and that’s what I see, nothing. You both go out of your way to do nothing, and that tells me there’s something there.”

  “What the hell’re you talking about?”

  “It’s what I don’t see that tells the story. You two are too careful with each other. It’s like you’re both afraid to get too close because you’d be jumping each other’s bones if you let your guards down.”

  Marvelli caught Rispoli’s eye in the rearview mirror and glared at him. He was too damned perceptive.

  “You’re dreaming, Gus,” Marvelli said, forcing a grin. “Loretta’s just my partner.”

  Rispoli sucked on a cigarette. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Hey! Hey!” Sammy said, getting all excited. “They’re coming out. Look.”

  Marvelli didn’t need the binoculars to see Loretta and Taffy coming out the front door of the restaurant. Taffy held the door open for her and put his hand on the small of her back as she walked out. Marvelli squinted to see the expression on her face. She didn’t seem to mind having a low-down murdering scum-thief-bastard’s hand on her.

  “Come on,” Marvelli said, grabbing the door handle. “Let’s grab him.”

  “With pleasure,” Sammy said as he reached for his door. But from the backseat Rispoli grabbed them both by the shoulders. “Wait,” he said, the cigarette dangling from his lips. “What for?” Sammy said, trying to pull away from Rispoli’s grip.

  “Too many people here,” Rispoli said. “Let’s wait and see where he takes her.”

  “Yeah,” Sammy said, instantly changing his tune, “maybe he’ll take her back to where he’s keeping Jennifer.” Rispoli shrugged. “You never know.”

  Marvelli held his tongue, doing a slow burn as he watched Taffy and Loretta strolling down the sidewalk. Taffy still had his hand on her back. Marvelli was seeing red. He didn’t want Taffy taking her anywhere. He reached for the key in the ignition.

  “No,” Rispoli said. “Let ’em walk a little. If we get too close, Taffy’ll spot us.”

  Not if I run him over first, Marvelli thought. But he let go of the ignition key.

  “This way,” Taffy said as he guided Loretta down a side street off the avenue. “I want to show you something.”

  “What?” Loretta asked.

  “You’ll see.”

  So will you, she thought. As soon as Marvelli, Sammy, and Rispoli get here. If they get here. What the hell were they waiting for? she wanted to know.

  She didn’t dare look over her shoulder and risk making Taffy suspicious.

  “Did you enjoy dinner?” he asked.

  “Ve
ry much,” she said, looking into his eyes. Her cheeks ached from smiling so much, and she wished he’d get his goddamn hand off her back. She’d reconsidered her initial impression of him. Taffy was smooth, but he was just like all the rest. He put up a good front, but no man is that perfect, which only said to her that he just wanted what they all wanted, except that he wanted it a lot more. Why else would he act so wonderful?

  The streetlights were spaced farther apart on this street. They walked long stretches in near darkness. All the shops were closed, and there were no residential apartments on the upper floors. There were no other pedestrians either.

  Come on, guys, she thought. Now’s the time.

  “You know, Loretta, I think you’re a very special person,” Taffy said.

  She couldn’t quite make out his expression in the dark, but he was making her nervous now. “You seem pretty special yourself,” she said, working hard to maintain a tone of playful flirtation. “So where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he said. His eyes twinkled in the dark.

  “What kind of surprise?”

  “A good one.”

  “How do you know I’ll like it?”

  “I think I know what you like.”

  “How could you know? We just met.”

  “You liked what I ordered at the restaurant, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah …”

  “Then trust me.”

  As they approached the next streetlight, she could see his face better. It was heavily outlined by the shadows, like a wooden mask. He didn’t look so smooth anymore.

  “You can trust me,” he said. “You do know that, don’t you?” The shadows moved across his face as they walked.

  “I guess,” she said noncommittally.

  Come on, guys, she thought. Let’s go.

  They passed under the streetlight and strolled back into the darkness. He had moved closer to her. His hip was touching hers, and his hand was still on her back. She could feel him slowing down.

  Oh, no, she thought. She knew what was coming next.

  They slowed down to a crawl, and suddenly he moved in front of her, entwining his arms around her lower back. His face was inches from hers. She laid her hands on his chest, ready to push him off if she had to.