by Cara Marsi
“Plenty.” Dominic pulled out his phone and tapped in the speed code for his division chief.
The phone was answered immediately. “Speak,” Salvatore Russo said in his usual gruff voice.
“Did you get the picture?”
“We’re running it now. What did you find out?”
“She’s American,” Dominic said. “Name Lexie Cortese. From Las Vegas. Here on a month’s vacation. Getting ready to start a new job and go back to school for a graduate degree. Her great-grandparents are from Abruzzo. Not much mob activity in Abruzzo, but you might want to check into mob ties anyway.” He relayed everything Lexie had told him about her life. Sometimes important pieces of information slipped in with all the minutiae.
“I’ll get our people working on this right away,” Sal said. “She’s American? Doesn’t fit.”
“Maybe our intel is wrong.”
Sal snorted. “She may not fit the profile, but our stake-out in the store saw the guy slip the diamond into her purse.” He chuckled. “I can tell from her picture she’s hot.”
Dominic stiffened his shoulders. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“I know you and beautiful women, especially beautiful, vulnerable women. Always the protector, Brioni. Remember, this one is involved with terrorists.”
Dominic tightened his grip on the phone. “You’re out of line, Sal.”
“Yeah, yeah. No matter how sexy she is, looks like your American is so tight with those terrorists it’s a wonder she can take a breath without them. Don’t screw this one up, Brioni. One more fuck-up and you can kiss away your career at Interpol.”
The phone went dead. Dominic jammed the phone into his pants pocket.
“What did he say?” Ruggiero asked.
“Son of a bitch reminded me of Galina.”
****
Nothing like attention from a handsome man to make a woman feel alive and beautiful, Lexie thought as she walked through the hotel lobby to the elevator. So what if Dominic was mysterious? His attention was as welcome as the sun breaking through clouds on a gloomy day. She punched the up button, and the doors of the ancient cage elevator squeaked open. She stepped in, pressing the button for the fourth floor. The elevator creaked its slow way up. The hotel, in the heart of the Via Corsi, was a converted fifteenth century townhouse. She liked its little twists and turns and quirks. She’d rather stay here than at one of the modern chain hotels.
Later she’d go down to the hotel’s business center and use their computer to check her email. She couldn’t wait to email Christy about Dominic. While Lexie’s parents hadn’t seen Jerry for the sleaze he was, her best friend Christy had had him figured out from the first time she’d met him. Christy would know what to do about Dominic. Then again, it was time Lexie started making her own decisions.
She grimaced as she stepped off the elevator and headed to her room. She loved her parents, but no longer trusted their judgment. They’d pushed her to date Jerry. Wanting to please them, she’d stopped dating the slightly rougher-around-the-edges Greg and gone out with Jerry. Now Greg was a doctor. Her parents meant well, but she had her own life to live and her own choices to make.
Lexie pulled the “non si disturbi” sign off her door and entered her room. Damn, she’d forgotten to take the sign down and her room hadn’t been cleaned. In thirty minutes the car and driver she’d hired to take her to dinner would be here. She’d spent too much time at Trevi, but then it wasn’t every day a handsome stranger came to her rescue.
She turned on the shower. There wasn’t much time. Maybe she should have arranged for a taxi to take her to the restaurant. It would have been cheaper than hiring a car and driver. Catching a quick glimpse of herself in the mirror, she smiled. The car and driver were an extravagance, but she deserved it.
Showered and dressed in her new silk skirt and tank top, her hair pulled into a ponytail, Lexie grabbed her black shoulder bag, then paused. She had five minutes until her driver got here. Her new green purse would perfectly pick up the flecks of green in the muted print of her skirt.
She dumped the contents of her old handbag onto the bed and began sorting through it. The phone rang, and still holding onto her wallet, she stretched to reach for it.
“Signorina Cortese, this is the front desk. Your driver is here. And we are happy to tell you a safe deposit box has unexpectedly become available if you still want it.”
“Grazie. Please tell the driver I’ll be right down. And hold the box for me. I have some things I want to put in it now.”
There was no time to go through the stuff in her old purse. She pulled out the red and gold silk pouch she’d gotten at one of the stores. It was large enough to contain her passport and the boxes and small velvet bags holding the gifts she’d bought today. She shoveled everything she wanted to put in the safe deposit box into the pouch, then emptied the contents of her old purse into the new one.
Snatching her wrap and holding onto the silk pouch and her purse, she headed toward the door. It opened before she reached it and Maria her maid slipped in.
“Oh, signorina, so sorry. I didn’t know you were here. I wish to clean the room.”
Lexie waved a hand. “Come in, Maria. I was just going out. I’m sorry to make you work so late.”
“I don’t mind.” Maria spotted Lexie’s old black shoulder bag lying on the bed. “You forget your purse, no?”
A few days ago Maria had admired the functional purse and the brightly colored scarf Lexie had tied around the handle to give it some pizzazz, the way she’d hoped to give her new life some pizzazz by going to Rome. Smiling, Lexie scooped up the old purse and offered it to the maid.
“Would you like it? I’ve bought a new one and don’t have room to take both home with me.”
“Oh, no, signorina, I couldn’t.”
“Please. It will make me happy to know you are enjoying it.”
With a shy smile, Maria took the purse. “Thank you, signorina. The new bag is beautiful. Have a good time tonight.”
****
Dominic stood in the shadow of the building across from the hotel. Lexie had told him she’d hired a driver to take her to the restaurant tonight. The driver had been replaced by one of Interpol’s agents. The agent gave Dominic a cursory glance as he came out of the hotel with Lexie.
Once the car pulled away, Dominic punched in Sal’s number. “She’s with our man,” he said when Sal answered. “Anything new from Florence?” The surveillance video had allowed the Florence police to identify and capture one of the three men who’d stolen the uncut blue diamond. The video didn’t give a clear picture of the other two thieves, who were still at large.
“Fucker stopped talking,” Sal said. “Just keeps repeating what he already told them. Says he knows only the first part of the plan, when the diamond gets handed off to the courier in the leather shop. Insists he doesn’t know when the diamond will be passed to the terrorists.”
“Bullshit,” Dominic said.
“The police will get more out of him,” Sal said. “Right now Interpol keeps the American under surveillance 24/7. You know what you have to do, Brioni.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Dominic hung up before Sal could say anything more. He knew what his job was—gain Lexie’s trust. If he did his job right, she’d let down her guard and reveal enough information for Interpol to determine where and when she’d hand off the diamond to the terrorists. Interpol would give the information to the Italian authorities who would then follow Lexie to the drop-off and arrest her and the terrorists. Dominic barely knew her, but despite what Interpol suspected of her involvement in the diamond scheme, the thought of Lexie in prison made his chest tighten. There was something about her that didn’t fit the profile. Interpol believed she was deadly, ready to betray her country and the world. Yet he’d detected no hardness in her, only softness and spirit.
He set his mouth in a grim line. He wouldn’t be fooled again. This time he’d keep his feelings out of
it while mining sweet Lexie for information. Dominic was very good at getting women to talk to him. Angelica had been confiding in him since she was thirteen and he eighteen. All those years raising his sister after their parents were killed, seeing to her needs before his own, had made him a good listener. Now he used those skills to gain evidence from women in criminal cases, sometimes sending them to prison. It was his job, but at times he despised himself for using what he’d learned through love in such an underhanded way.
Standing in the gloom of the building, a gloom that mirrored his mood, he barely noticed the swell of tourists strolling the Via Corsi. He had to believe Lexie was no different from the others he’d investigated. He had to remember Galina. She too had been sweet and innocent.
But Galina hadn’t been able to escape her past. He’d wanted to protect her. And he’d let her down.
He pushed aside his dismal thoughts and joined the noisy throng of pedestrians, shouldering his way around slow-moving tourists. Time to concentrate on this new mission.
CHAPTER THREE
“Idiot!” Pasquale Dellose pounded his fist on the desk. A vein throbbed in his temple and his face turned as red as the marinara sauce on the plate in front of him.
Feeling the blood drain from his own face, Giovanni stepped back. He could well imagine Pasquale’s thick fingers squeezing the life from him, as he’d seen his boss do to others. Giovanni began to speak, needing to put the distance of words between himself and the possibility.
“How did I know she was the wrong woman? She fit the description.” He hated the whiny sound of his voice, but his life depended on appeasing his boss.
“It’s not my fault our courier was delayed in traffic,” he continued in that same detested whine. “She knows how congested Rome is. It’s her fault for not allowing extra time. I was told to go to the leather shop and slip the diamond to a young woman carrying a black purse with a scarf tied around the handle. That’s what I did. I was just following orders.”
Pasquale pushed aside his half-eaten plate of pasta and stood, glaring at Giovanni across the desk. The vein in Pasquale’s temple looked ready to pop out. Giovanni swallowed the fear clogging his throat and glanced nervously around. Darkness had settled over the city and the small library was dimly lit by a lamp in one corner. Leather-bound books lined the shelves, but Giovanni knew his boss had no interest in reading anything but the scandal sheets. Peasant.
“Don’t give me that just following orders crap.” Pasquale raked short, fat fingers through his thinning gray hair. “I’m surrounded by idiots. Did you think to say something to her to confirm before you gave away the damn diamond? No, of course not. Idiot! Some very bad people are expecting that fucking gem.”
White-hot anger chased Giovanni’s fear. “Hell, Pasquale, you know what our woman looks like. I don’t. Why send me? Why use a go-between at all? We could have held onto the diamond until the right time and delivered it to the others ourselves.”
Pasquale’s face got redder until Giovanni was sure his boss’s head would explode. Pasquale leaned over the desk, so close Giovanni could smell the garlic on his breath. “You dare question me?”
“No, boss, I didn’t mean it that way.” Giovanni’s insides trembled. He’d gone too far.
“Insurance, that’s why we use a go-between, you jerk. And the others insisted. They’re smart, those guys.” He grinned, reminding Giovanni of a wild Tuscan boar ready to pounce. Pasquale swept his hand, encompassing the room. “If the police find out we stole that diamond, they’re all over our asses.” He shrugged. “No diamond. No case. Our woman has the diamond, gives it to the Taliban, or whatever the hell they call themselves, and we get lots of money. A good plan, but no, first Nunzio gets himself caught by the Florence police. Half-wit could have squealed like a stuck pig for all we know. The woman you slipped the stone to might work for the police. Did you see anyone else following her?” His lips twisted in a sneer. “Or were you too busy planning to fuck her?”
Giovanni stood rigid, trying to control his trembling. “She’s not my type. Too skinny.” He gave his boss a shaky smile. “Nunzio wouldn’t squeal. He’s loyal. The police can’t know about the leather shop. I would have known if they were sniffing around.”
“You know nothing!” Face still red, Pasquale sat back down.
With an effort, Giovanni relaxed his stance. “Some stupid thug stole the woman’s shopping bag,” he said, glad to shift the idiot label to someone else. “Another guy found it and she had drinks with him. That’s it. Stupid stuff. No police involved except the ones who went after the jerk who stole her bag. I know where she’s staying. I was smart enough to follow her to be sure she kept the diamond safe. I’ll go to her hotel now, get the stone, then we’ll set up another meeting with the right woman.” He smiled. “See. All okay.”
Pasquale grunted and narrowed his ice-blue eyes. “If we don’t deliver that diamond, our bodies will be floating in the Tiber. I don’t intend to let that happen to me.”
****
He didn’t know the bitch’s name. Damn! Giovanni yanked open the hotel door and strode into the tiny lobby. Behind the desk stood a young woman with long black hair, large brown eyes, and a ripe body begging for a man like him, a man who knew how to make a woman scream with pleasure. He felt himself harden. Maybe after he’d taken care of the bitch, he’d come back here.
Plastering his most charming smile on his face, he approached the woman. She looked at him with those big eyes. His gaze went to her magnificent breasts, straining under her tight white blouse. He licked his lips.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
I can tell you exactly how you can help me, he wanted to say. He read her nametag. “Anna. What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
She smiled. He’d get everything he wanted, and more, from her.
He broadened his own smile. “I’m looking for one of your guests. Small woman, long brownish hair, carrying a black purse with a scarf tied on it. We met at Trevi today. She didn’t give me her name, but she said she was staying here.”
Anna smiled. “Oh, that sounds like Miss Lexie Cortese. She’s American, from Las Vegas.” She blushed. “I shouldn’t have told you that. We’re not supposed to give out information on our guests.”
He leaned over the desk, inhaling the woman’s heady scent of musk. He’d definitely be back later. “I don’t want information, Anna.” He touched a strand of her silky black hair and let it slip from his fingers to fall over her shoulder and brush one of her large breasts. His fingers itched to follow. Her face pinked. He had her where he wanted her. “Miss Cortese dropped something and I want to return it to her.”
“You are very kind, sir. Should I ring her room?”
“Please. And my name is Angelo.”
“Angelo,” she said, with a flirtatious grin. She picked up the phone.
Luck was finally with him. A large mirror hung behind the desk. Giovanni positioned himself so he could see the phone’s keypad reflected in the mirror. Anna punched in the numbers. He grinned. He knew the American’s room number.
Hanging up the phone, Anna looked at him and smiled. “No answer. Sorry. If you want to leave the item with me, I will give it to her.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll stop by later.” He touched her chin. “I’d like to see you later, too.”
Leaving the blushing Anna, Giovanni went around to the back of the hotel. He found the employees’ entrance and waited for someone to open the door so he could slip inside.
One of the maids came out. She set her purse on the low wall while she adjusted her hat. Her purse. A familiar looking purse. Adrenaline shot through his veins. Black purse with a scarf tied around the handle. The Cortese woman’s. The maid must have stolen it. Could the diamond still be in there?
Giovanni followed the woman, careful to stay out of sight. She wound her way along a narrow street filled with crowded cafés and noisy people. He knocked into a man getting up from a tab
le. Pushing the man away with a loud curse, Giovanni hurried to catch up with his prey. The bitch turned onto the Via Corsi. Too many people around for him to do anything. Would she ever get to a deserted street where he could snatch the purse and take care of her? She finally turned down a small, dark street. He smiled and picked up his speed.
His shoes slapped on the cobblestones, alerting the woman. She turned quickly, her eyes wide. He hurried toward her. Holding tight to the black purse, she began running.
Giovanni quickly caught up to her. He grabbed her by the arm, pulling her to a stop. She twisted around, her mouth open.
He clamped his hand over her mouth, stifling her scream. “Give me the purse,” he growled. “And you won’t get hurt.”
Her whole body began to shake. With a trembling hand, she held out the purse.
“You scream and I’ll kill you,” he said. “Understand?”
Her eyes wild with fright, she nodded. Cautiously he took his hand from her mouth. “Please let me go,” she begged in a quivering whisper. “My husband is home waiting.”
Giovanni leered. “He’ll have to wait a long time.” He threw the purse on the ground and pulled the knife from his jacket, slipped it under her ribs and into her heart. Without a sound, she sank to the ground.
He wiped his knife on her jacket, picked up the purse, and hurried out of the alley, glancing around to be sure no one saw him. If his luck held, the diamond would be there. Then he’d go back to the hotel and the luscious Anna.
He walked briskly along the Via Corsi to another small street, then waited until the few pedestrians cleared out before he opened the purse. Empty! Not believing his eyes, he tore through it, ripping out the lining, shaking it. Totally empty. What the hell had the American bitch done with the gem?
Cursing, he threw the purse down and headed back to the hotel.
****
Lexie gave the driver his tip and glanced around before going into the hotel. Everything seemed normal, yet a weird foreboding that something was about to happen had stayed with her all through dinner. Her driver had hovered near the entrance to the restaurant while she ate, almost as if he were keeping guard. He hadn’t made her feel safe, only more wary.