Savage looked up, and taking in the suppressed anger in her face, asked, “Don’t suppose you’d believe she got something in her eye, and I was trying to get it out?”
“I’m not kidding, Ben. This is serious.”
“You want the truth?”
“I’m going to have it!”
“Well, here it is. The girl is man crazy. She’ll make a play for anything in pants.”
“So she threw herself down and pulled you down on top of her and was forcing you to make love to her when we so inconveniently happened by. Is that it?”
“Well, I did make a mess of it,” Ben confessed ruefully. “I knew she’d make a play, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.” He looked at Dani and admitted, “All right, I didn’t handle it well. I’m sorry, what else can I say?”
Dani was angry, but forced herself to say only, “You’ll have to be more careful in the future. That’s all we need, you getting mixed up with a member of the Lanza family.”
“I’ll watch it.” Ben stood up and wondered, “What do you think? Are we going to do any good for the old man?”
“I don’t know. But sooner or later Johnny Ring is going to make another try. From what I hear, he’s completely ruthless.”
“So they say. You think there’s some kind of leak? Maybe Ring’s bought off somebody?”
“I don’t know, but we can’t discount it. So keep your eyes open. And be careful.”
His eyes opened wider and he warned, “You, too, Boss. If Ring’s goons start slinging lead, you’re in a good position to take some of it. This thing pays good—but let’s be sure we don’t become casualties.”
The following week, Mardi Gras possessed New Orleans—a demented time, when responsible men and women threw off all semblance of decorum. A vacation from reality—and from morality.
But Mardi Gras did not come to Twelve Oaks. The drawbridge did not lower, and the fortress created by Dominic Lanza kept close watch. Some of the hired help took time off to join in the madness, but by executive order, none of the family went to observe the sickness.
“It would be too dangerous,” Frank stated when the children begged to go. “We’ll make it up to you. Maybe a trip down to Palm Beach.”
Such a promise never brought balm to a youngster, and Dani had to put up with sullen, rebellious behavior from Matthew, though not from Rachel. She had made a separate peace with Rachel and Pat. The girl was so starved for attention that anyone could have won her. It had not taken two days for Dani to discover that a little attention from her father would have given Rachel the confidence she needed. As for Pat, he was such a cheerful little rebel! But it was not a surly rebellion; it was simply the result of a determined spirit, which would, if properly channeled, make him into a man of firm resolution. This bothered Dani, for Pat was like his grandfather, whom that same independent spirit had led into a life-style that was now in danger of collapsing under its own weight.
But Matthew hid behind a wall ten miles high and almost as thick. He challenged Dani’s authority with a dogged persistence, and it was almost impossible for her to show the love she was convinced he needed. Matthew’s need for his father was even greater than Rachel’s, Dani realized. But what could she do with her knowledge? Instinctively she knew that to go to Frank Lanza with the accusation that he neglected his children would be disastrous. It was not that he didn’t have affection for them, for he did. He was able to show this more to Pat than to the others, perhaps because of the child’s open nature. Had Frank become so bitter in his marital relationship that he identified the children with Rosemary? Or maybe, she thought, Rachel and Matthew were complicated, with complex problems, while Frank had learned to treat problems head-on. But you could not attack the sensitive areas in Rachel or in Matthew as you would a problem in business.
In any case, Dani soon was caught up in the Lanza family problems. Against her will she was drawn in, as a swimmer is drawn into a whirlpool. And who was to blame? Was it Rosemary’s fault? Her drinking disgusted Frank, and the children were ashamed of her, though they tried not to show it. But soon Dani decided that the drinking was not natural to Rosemary. She had discovered this when Rosemary had come, as she often did, to observe as Dani taught the two older children some basic math. Pat had crawled up in his mother’s lap. He did not understand, had not learned, that his mother was weak, so he treated her in a greedy manner, claiming her love—which she poured out on him.
After Rachel and Matthew left, Rosemary sat there holding Pat, and the two women talked for a long time. Rosemary, so silent when others were around, seemed to forget that she was talking to one of the hired help. In between all the unimportant and mundane things she said, Dani picked up something.
Rosemary had been talking about her youth and let fall: “I was taught to do what was right. But when I married Frank, all I had been taught I had to throw away. My mother had tried to tell me that the Lanzas were not for me, that they were in criminal activities, but I was so in love with Frank, I wouldn’t listen.” Rosemary sat there stroking Pat’s hair and added, as if in a dream, “I’ve been afraid since the day I came to this house as a bride. I’m always afraid, Dani. And I still feel so—so shamed by the way we make our money!”
Dani said nothing, but from that moment, she had known that Rosemary Lanza’s drinking was her only way to escape the shame and fear that must have made her life a hell. But how could she tell Frank Lanza that?
She talked little about these things with anyone, not even speaking of them to Ben. They spent much effort on security, taking such precautions as were possible. But they both felt edgy, as if they could hear the almost inaudible sound of distant thunder—the warning of a coming storm that would tear down the treetops.
Eddy and Irene Lanza had been to the West Coast on business, and they came back the day before Eddy’s birthday.
“We’ll have a party,” Dominic had announced at dinner on Monday. He felt better, and the color had come into his pale cheeks. “A birthday party for Eddy. Take care of it, Frank.”
Tuesday, the house was filled with activity. When she came down for breakfast, Frank rose to greet Dani. “I have someone for you to meet.” He smiled. He turned to the couple at the table, saying, “This is my brother Eddy and his wife, Irene. And this is Dani Ross.”
Eddy Lanza got to his feet and stepped forward to meet Dani. “Pleased to meet you, Dani,” he greeted her. He was only two years younger than Frank, but he looked older. He was very thin, and his brown hair was receding. Dani didn’t look at his foot, for she knew he felt terribly sensitive about the built-up shoe a bout with polio had forced him to wear. His hand was thin, but he had a nice smile.
“I’m happy to meet you, Mr. Lanza—and you, Mrs. Lanza.”
“Abby has said such nice things about you,” Irene commented. “We’re grateful for the help you’ve given her.” She was a sharp-featured woman, wearing the best clothing money could buy. There was a somewhat cold light in her eyes, but she seemed pleasant enough.
“Abby is very bright,” Dani observed quickly. “She’s been a big help to me with the children.”
Both of them had seemed pleased with that, and Dani had said later to Ben, “They don’t seem like big-time racketeers, do they, Ben? She’s a little sharp, but Eddy’s just a nice man.”
Ben had been more skeptical. “Maybe so—but I think some of that’s a front. A few stories about him I picked up seem a little strong. I guess Eddy’s old Dominic’s son. But he’s always had to live in Phil’s shadow—and now it’s Frank’s shadow.”
The party was expensive, but not crowded. Except for the family, there were only ten other people, close family friends. Frank had insisted on Ben and Dani’s attending.
They met at seven in the dining room, and the meal had lasted for two hours. A string quartet, placed at one end of the room, furnished the music, and Mrs. Bennett, the housekeeper, along with the two maids, did the serving. Thomas Rossi played the role of butler, moving about
his duties with one eye always on Dominic Lanza.
As a treat for the children, Frank had engaged the services of a clever magician—one Dani had seen on local television several times. He was witty and entertaining, managing to keep the adults laughing throughout his act. After he was finished, Frank announced, “Well, it’s time for the gifts. Eddy, come up here.”
Protesting but obviously pleased, Eddy limped to the front and, at a sign from Frank, Ben and Vince Canelli entered, carrying a table piled high with presents. “You guys shouldn’t have done this,” Eddy kept saying.
It was a time for family, and Dani sat quietly as the opening of the gifts went on. She ran her eyes around the table, thinking how in such a short time her life had gotten involved with this strange and powerful family. The faces of Matthew, Rachel, and Pat were intent and happy; yet she knew all three faced futures fraught with danger and unhappiness. Rosemary and Frank sat side by side, but emotionally the width of the Grand Canyon lay between them. Beautiful Abby was on a one-way trip to a bad end. Irene watched her husband with a mixture of pride and a faint touch of some sort of anger.
She must be jealous of the favoritism Dominic’s shown to Phil and Frank, Dani thought.
At the moment Eddy’s thin face, flushed with wine and pleasure, seemed happy, but Dani had heard talk that he had moments when a jealous rage came on him, when he even faced up to his father, accusing him of showing partiality toward his brothers. Dominic Lanza’s thin lips smiled, but a shadow lined his cavernous eyes. What was he thinking, now that he had received that last summons? Dani could not read the man; indeed, she doubted if anyone could—unless it were Thomas Rossi.
Frank had been reading the names from the tags on the gifts and handing them to Eddy, who unwrapped them. Each time this happened, Frank would say something about the giver, and when Eddy unwrapped the gift, he would try to say something funny. Usually it was not very amusing, but at times such as these, people were ready to laugh, so there was considerable noise in the room.
Frank had handed Eddy a package about the size of a cigar box, and said, “And this is from your old friend Brad DeVito. Brad couldn’t come but he says he’s sending you the best King’s has to offer. Happy birthday, Eddy, from Brad.”
Eddy reached for the package, and a bell went off in Dani’s head. She acted out of pure instinct; leaping to her feet, she cried out, “Don’t!” as loudly as she could. Pushing her chair back, she ran around the table, her face pale and her eyes wide.
Eddy had taken the package from Frank, had even started to make a joke—but Dani’s cry cut off every sound in the room. He stood there as Dani came to a halt in front of him and stuttered, “W-why, what’s wrong?”
Dani reached out and took the package from him. Carefully she turned and looked at Frank, who was stock still. It was as if everyone in the room were frozen, even young Pat, whose eyes were like moons.
“This package didn’t come from King’s,” Dani observed evenly.
“How do you know that, Dani?” Frank asked quietly.
“King’s uses only one kind of wrapping paper,” she answered, staring down at the package. “A light lavender with gold crowns on it. They won’t use anything else. It’s a status thing. They’ve had the paper patented. This didn’t come from King’s Gift Shop.”
The room was as still as a candle in a crypt. “Please have everyone leave the room, Mr. Lanza,” Dani directed.
It was Dominic Lanza who instantly commanded, “Everyone out—now!”
Everyone left, and Dani put the box carefully down on the banquet table, then walked outside. There was a great deal of talking, and Dani voiced her concern to Dominic, “I may be wrong. It may be just a present.”
Old Dominic’s eyes burned, and he took her hands. “You are doing your best to take care of us. I will rejoice if it is just a present. But if it is not . . . !” He said no more, but shook his head. Frank came up, informing his father, “I called the police. They’re sending the bomb squad.”
Dani left as the guests were being shown out and, as soon as she got to her room, had an attack of nerves. She called herself three kinds of a fool and finally took a shower. She had just come out, wearing her gown, when a faint knock at the door jarred her. Snatching her gun, she threw on her robe, pulled it together, and opened the door.
Frank Lanza stood there, a pallor on his thin face. “It was a bomb,” he whispered. “Sixkiller called. He said there were enough explosives in it to have blown the room apart.”
Dani began to tremble, and Lanza saw it. He stepped forward and took her hands. He seemed to struggle for words, and finally he came out with, “We Lanzas—we’re very cold. We don’t like to owe favors.”
Dani could feel the strength of his hands, but tried to lighten the moment. “No extra charge, Frank,” she whispered and tried to smile. “It’s what you pay me for.”
He shook his head. “No, this is different. This is—this is life!” Suddenly he took her hands and raised them to his lips. His kiss seemed to burn her skin, and he added huskily, “Dani! Thanks—for me and for my family!”
She couldn’t speak, and for one moment she felt the power that was in the Lanza men. It was so strong that if he had tried to kiss her, as she thought he meant to do, she was not at all certain that she would be able to pull away.
But he only stared at her for a moment, then dropped her hands. “Money won’t pay for this. I must find another way,” he exclaimed then turned and walked quickly away.
Dani stepped inside and shut the door, holding her hands together to stop the trembling. Death had been in the room below, and her fertile imagination could see the mangled corpses of Pat and Rachel and Matthew, of Ben—and of herself. She walked to bed, kneeled, and began to pray, not for anything that God could give, but for what He had already given that very night.
6
Matthew
* * *
Matthew watched the black Lincoln pull up to the front door. Perry got out, held the door open for Dani, Rachel, and Pat, closed it, got in, and drove off. “I don’t care!” the boy muttered angrily. He flung away from the window, crossed to his desk, and stared down at the sheet of paper half filled with math problems. “Who wants to go to the stupid aquarium anyway?”
You do, Stupid! a disgusted voice spoke deep inside. True, his only visit to the fabulous new aquarium had been wonderful.
Matt suddenly scooped the sheet of paper up, shredded it into strips, and threw them on the floor. “See how you like that!” he cried out defiantly and, with his shoulders squared, turned and dashed out of the room. He left the house, slamming the door, and rapidly headed for the geodesic dome that housed the swimming pool. As he went through the door he exclaimed under his breath, “Let’s see if she can stop me from having a swim!” In short order he changed into a suit, then walked down the short hall that led from the men’s dressing room to the pool itself.
Matt looked up at the arching ceiling, as always admiring the space and the way the sun filtered down. The pool’s heaters kept the chill out of the air, and the water was a tepid seventy-one degrees.
He saw Savage vacuuming the pool. “Hey, what’s going down, Matt?” Savage asked.
“Oh, nothing.” He hesitated, and Savage saw the petulant expression on the boy’s face. “Thought I’d take a swim.”
“Sure. But I thought all of you were going to the aquarium with Miss Ross.”
“Aw—who needs it? Bunch of stupid fish!”
Ben shook his head. “That bad, is it? I was thinking you and I could sneak off some afternoon and take it in. I’ve always loved those things!”
Matt objected, “I didn’t know you liked stuff like that.”
“Well, if you think it’s dumb. . . .” Ben shrugged. “Guess it wouldn’t be too good an idea.”
Matthew opened his mouth to protest, then confided, “I really wanted to go, but Miss Ross wouldn’t let me.”
“Why not?”
“Well—” His you
ng face was as easy to read as print. It made Savage think of his own boyhood and the troubles that had gone with it. “I—I was supposed to do some work. Shoot! I could have done it when we got back— wouldn’t have killed her to let me do that!” He dropped his head and stared down at the tile, muttering, “She’s a drag! You don’t like her, do you, Ben?”
“Well—I kind of do.” Savage nodded. He saw the disappointment written on the boy’s face, and added, “She reminds me of the drill instructor I had in the marines. If you think Miss Ross is tough, you should meet up with W. A. Pendergast! He just about peeled my potato, Matt!”
“And you hated him?”
“I did until we got in the jungle and started getting shot at,” Savage said. “Then you know what I thought, Matt?”
“What?”
“I thought, Thank the good Lord for W. A. Pendergast! I all of a sudden realized that he wasn’t being rough on me just because he was a bully. He was trying his best to get me ready for something he knew was coming. There’s no real easy way to do that—in the marines or anywhere else.”
Matt struggled with the idea, hating to admit he was wrong. But a streak of honesty in him finally forced him to remark, “I—I guess she’s not so bad. I could have done that old math easy!”
“Just didn’t want her to push you around, I guess.”
“How’d you know that?” Matt stared at the man with a mixture of shock and admiration.
Savage put the wand down, not wanting to turn the talk into a lecture. “Because, buddy, there’s something in us men that works like that. Don’t know why it is, but we just got to prove how tough we are. I have several unnecessary scars I collected showing people how Ben Savage couldn’t be pushed around, no, sir!”
“You have?”
“Sure. Come on, and we’ll work on that back dive. I think you’ve almost got it.” He let his hand drop on the boy’s thin shoulder as they walked along. “Us guys have to give in to women, Matt. They’re kind of fragile.” His words did what he expected, for by speaking of the two of them together, he gave Matt a way to save face.
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