by Beth Ciotta
“Who?”
“The creep I asked you to scare off earlier today at the Carnevale. Sofie calls him a watcher. He follows the female performers around, lurks, leers. He’s taken a specific liking to Sofie and Lulu. And guess what? He lives in their neighborhood.”
“That’s gotta suck.”
“So what did you say to him today?”
“That if I caught him staring at my girlfriend again, I’d cut off his balls and serve them to the sharks.”
Murphy suppressed a grin. Typical Bogie. And, hey now, reminiscent of the tougher Sofie. “Yesterday, I’m pretty sure Marlin witnessed me kissing your girlfriend on the boardwalk.”
“Hmm. I guess that pretty much makes her tramp material. Is Marlin pumpkin-smashing material?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s a whiney-ass weasel.”
“Well, at least we know what we’re dealing with. As for Jake, tell him to chill. And do not brief Gallow. It might make him nervous. I just need him to drive the car, transport the couriers to Oz. That’s if he’s even the one sent to do the job.” Bogie glanced at his watch. “I’ve really got to go, Murph. Julietta’s going to start wondering where I am, and if she starts making calls, I’m fucked.”
They both rose. “About this girl,” Murphy said.
“I’m not going to desert her when this is over.” Bogie tucked his hair behind his ears, pulled on the knit cap. “She needs help, Murph. I’ll see she gets it. She’ll be okay.”
Sofie poked her head in the door. She looked dry-eyed, but harried. “I need to go,” she said to Bogie. “Can you give me a lift? Thanks.” And then she was gone.
Bogie stared after her, frustration and—was that freaking longing swirling in his eyes? “What about you?” Murphy asked. “Are you going to be okay?”
Bogie forced a smile. “Aren’t I always?”
Chapter Twenty
“Baby, will you please stop pacing and come back to bed?”
“I can’t help it, Jake. I’m nervous.” Afia continued her back and forth trek, from the bed to the bureau, cell phone clutched in her right hand. “Rudy sounded so upset. You heard the message. He sounded upset, right?”
He sounded close to tears, but Jake didn’t figure that was the best thing to say if he wanted Afia to settle down. He wished they hadn’t crawled out of bed to raid the refrigerator. Wished he hadn’t checked the message machine, but he’d been expecting a call from Murphy with an update on the Oz situation. No Murphy, just a cryptic sad sack message from an obviously down-in-the-mouth Rudy. “He’s a big boy, Afia. Yes, he sounded upset. He’ll get over it.”
“He told me to call him. He’s expecting my call. So why isn’t he answering his phone?”
“He’s probably in a place with low or zip signal.”
“I left three messages on his cell and one at home, and what do I get?” she lamented as though Jake hadn’t spoken. “A phone call back from Jean-Pierre saying that they had a fight and that he hasn’t seen Rudy since this morning.”
Jake threw back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He’d allow her two more minutes of pacing then he was going to sweep her off those frantic feet. All that agitation couldn’t be good for the baby. He knew it wasn’t good for Afia. This is why he’d wanted an assurance from Murphy that Bogart’s sting wouldn’t put Rudy and Jean-Pierre in harm’s way. Afia loved Rudy with a fierceness that should have made him jealous. At one time it did. Before he knew the man was gay. Before he learned that his shrimp-sized wife had a heart the size of a whale, and was capable of loving deeply on several different levels. A quality he wholly admired. But it was also a quality that made her extremely vulnerable to hurt.
“Jean-Pierre said Rudy was slated to deliver a drag queen from Freehold to Ruby Slippers, but other than that he didn’t know his schedule. What if he had an accident?” Her eyes filled with tears. “What if he’s not answering his phone because he can’t?”
That did it. Jake moved swiftly, scooping her off her feet and depositing her in bed. “Take a breath and calm down.” He pressed a hand to her shoulder when she tried to bounce back up. “I mean it, Afia. You’re overreacting. Rudy and JP had a fight. Rudy’s upset. He’s also proud and stubborn. Ten to one he’s not answering his phone because, despite the message he left hours ago, he’s not in the mood to talk. He’s probably off somewhere poring over some damned relationship book on ‘how to fight fair.’ Or maybe he dropped off the queen at Ruby Slippers and decided to stick around and brood over a few beers.”
“You think?” She swiped away tears and blinked up at him with a hopeful smile. “Maybe we should go over there and check up on him. See if he needs some company.”
“Maybe you should give the man some breathing room.” No freaking way was he taking her to Oz. He brushed aside her bangs and kissed her crinkled brow. “If he needs you, Afia, he knows where to find you.”
She sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just … I have a feeling something bad is going to happen.”
She clasped her wrist, and he knew she was mentally stroking the charm bracelet she no longer wore. Her good luck talisman. It was an old habit, one that wrenched his heart, because it meant she was feeling insecure and vulnerable to a crisis or tragedy. “Nothing bad is going to happen, sweetheart.” He intended to kiss away her pout, but his phone rang. He reached over and snagged his cell from the nightstand.
Afia bolted upright. “Is it Rudy?”
He glanced at the incoming number. “No.” It was Murphy. He tried to roll out of bed, but Afia groaned and clung. Okay. She didn’t want to be alone. He got that. He’d just have to deal. He kissed the top of her head, relaxed against the pillows then hit the answer button. “Yeah?”
“It’s Murphy.”
“I know.”
“You alone?”
“No.”
“So you can’t talk freely.”
“Not at the moment.” Jake smoothed his hand down Afia’s back as she snuggled in against him. Earlier they’d burned up the mattress, the couch, and had even gone a round in the shower. With any luck, she’d conk out from exhaustion and stop worrying about Gallow.
“Good,” Murphy said. “Means you can’t give me shit.”
Jake fought to keep his expression neutral and his body relaxed as Murphy laid out what he’d learned from Bogart. He wasn’t thrilled to know that Rudy and Jean-Pierre were smack dab in the middle of a drug-smuggling investigation, but he did relish the thought of decimating the Falcones. Bogart’s assurance that Rudy would be shielded from prosecution was a bonus, but he didn’t agree that Rudy should be left in the dark. He knew the man. Bogart didn’t. “I’m cool with everything except the last part. Forewarned is forearmed.”
“Let’s cross that road if we come to it,” Murphy said. “Maybe they won’t even send Gallow.”
“Maybe.” Or maybe Rudy would be too busy sulking or mending bridges with JP to take the assignment. One could hope.
“Oh, and Jake. About Rivelli? I don’t think he’s tangled in the family business, but he’s sure as hell tied to the family. He still plans on marrying the mob boss’s daughter.”
The fact that Rivelli wanted to marry that jealous bitch blew his mind. He was also surprised that Angela was willing to accept Rivelli’s quirky lifestyle. “Life is full of surprises,” Jake mumbled.
“I’ll say. Aside from a couple of glowing moments, this day has been cursed with one calamity after another.”
Cursed. Jinxed. Jake blinked at the ceiling, his brain zinging with illogical thoughts.
“Let’s keep in touch,” Murphy said.
“Yeah.” Jake signed off and tossed aside his cell phone. Afia had freaked when she’d thought Angela had cursed her with the Evil Eye, dooming her to “dry up.” “I’ll never have children,” she’d cried one night. He’d blasted the ancient belief as bullshit, and, over the weeks, as she’d shed her superstitious ways, she’d shed her fear.
“I have a feeling something bad is go
ing to happen.”
Holy shit.
“What’s wrong, Jake?”
He shifted, cocooning his wife and their unborn child in his arms. “Nothing, honey.”
Positive thoughts over negative. Isn’t that what he’d told her once?
Nothing bad is going to happen.
Could this night get any worse? Lulu descended the stairs in a daze, her cell phone in hand. She found Murphy in the library signing off from his own call. “Where’s Sofie?” she rasped.
“She had to be somewhere. Bogie gave her a lift.” He glanced at the phone in her hand and immediately stood. “Was it Paulie?”
“What?” She blinked, shook her head. “Oh. No. It was Viv.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yes. No. I just can’t believe it.” She started to pace. If she didn’t walk off this nervous energy she’d explode. “I was feeling overwhelmed, and scared, and I know this sounds childish, but I wanted my Nonna. I wanted her to make everything better. Viv has a way of doing that, you know. She’s this incredible ball of positive energy. She could make a stone laugh.”
“Sounds a lot like you.”
She chewed on a thumbnail and quickened her pace. “Comparing me to Viv is an incredibly kind compliment. She’s the nicest person I’ve ever known.” She snorted. “Even though she is a little nutty.”
“I can say the same about you.”
She glanced over and saw that he was smiling. An affectionate smile that made her insides gooey. Her knees weakened, and she tripped over her own two feet. He caught her before she fell flat out, relieved her of the cell phone, and kissed away her harried thoughts. Oh, to spend a lifetime in this man’s arms.
She sighed when he eased away, trying to remember why she’d been so upset.
“So what did your nutty grandmother say or do that’s got you so riled, tiger?”
“She eloped.” That was it. The staggering news that had sent her into a deeper tailspin. “My seventy-two-year-old grandmother is in Las Vegas on her honeymoon.”
He chuckled. “And this is bad because …”
Because now she’ll probably move to Florida. Because Sofie’s hurting and I don’t know why and it’s only a matter of time before she moves on to wherever.
Because everyone I’ve ever loved leaves me, and I’m terrified that I’m falling in love with you.
She swiped a stray curl off her face, and took a calming breath. She would not wig out. “It’s not bad. I mean I like Franklin. He and Viv met years ago when they worked on a cartoon feature together. He was the animator and she did a voice-over. Anyway, he’s funny and nice, and well, grandpa has been gone a long time. It’s just unexpected. Like everything else in my life lately.”
He stroked his thumb over her cheek. “Like us, for instance.”
Us. The concept struck her with simultaneous joy and panic. Her throat tightened as she put her heart on the line. “I couldn’t tell Viv about Paulie. I didn’t want to upset her. But I told her about you. I told her I’d met a kind and brave man who’s wonderful with children, but whose job entails carrying a gun. I told her that, in the space of three days, you changed the way I look at the world and that terrifies me. I told her I’m afraid you’re too good to be true.”
She realized suddenly that she’d inched away from Murphy with every admission, and now her back was against the wall, literally. He advanced and her entire body tingled with awareness. She nearly shot out of her skin when he grasped her hand and placed it over his heart.
“I’m real. I’m flawed. And you’re not the only one who’s looking at the world differently. Just because we bonded fast, doesn’t make what we feel any less real. I’m in this for the long haul, Luciana.”
His eyes sparked with sincerity and strength. She believed him. Unlike Terry, she couldn’t imagine Murphy giving up when the going got tough. He’d dig in and fight harder. Like a Marine. Her heart thumped in rhythm with his. Deep down, they really weren’t that different. They both wanted to make the world a better place.
Going on what little he’d revealed about his military stint, and after doing some calculations and surfing the Internet, she’d come to the conclusion that he’d participated in Operation Sea Angel and Operation Restore Hope, the latter being a humanitarian effort in Somalia. As she’d spent her life shunning the news, she was ashamed to admit that she didn’t know much about these events. The more she’d read, the more she’d been tempted to fall back on old ways and shut it all out. So much pain and destruction. The only thing that made her eager to learn more was knowing that Murphy and countless others had witnessed these horrible things first hand. Making a difference entails taking risks.
She’d spent her life casting mental stones at men, good and bad, who carried guns, focusing on the violence and not the peacekeeping. She’d lived her life in a bubble, playing it safe and never achieving true happiness or satisfaction. Never making a big enough difference.
“Do you know what Viv said?” She swallowed hard, her voice a nervous whisper. “Life’s short. Live large. No regrets.”
He smiled. “OohRah.”
“We attack life differently, Colin. We’ll drive each other crazy. You do realize that, don’t you?”
He framed her face in his hands, hands that had fed starving children, hands that had dug people free of mudslides. “I’m ready to fill this house with memories.”
Her lips curved as toe-curling joy banished the last of her doubts. “What about furniture?”
He laughed. “That, too.” He gazed into her eyes, and the earth moved. “So what do you think?”
That the zing could fizzle in six months. That he could be caught in a cross fire in two weeks. That she could bite it tomorrow in a car accident like her dad and Sofie’s mom. Life’s short. Live large. No regrets. “I think Viv’s a genius.” Smiling, she stood on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his mouth. “Let’s rock and roll.”
Muffled disco music charged the brisk night air. Sofie glanced at her watch. One o’clock in the morning. She glanced at the entrance to Ruby Slippers. Special Agent Joseph Bogart’s voice rang in her ear. “Stay away from Oz.”
If she had any respect for the fed, she might’ve had second thoughts. Loathing was all she could dredge up for a man who’d saved and seduced her only to make snide cracks about her sexual conduct. Like he had room to talk. He’d used sugar words and a stiff prick to advance an investigation.
Joe’s behavior only reinforced her conclusion that men were pigs and not to be trusted. The episode with Chaz still cramped her stomach, and her sister’s plight with the stalker made her sick with worry and rage. Life in general was the pits right now and to top things off, Rudy was missing.
Jaw clenched, she pushed through the glittering red doors of the gay nightclub, intent on doing something worthwhile and obliterating the awful feeling of helplessness. Intent on finding the selfish ass who was putting poor Jean-Pierre through hell just because he was jealous. JP was certain Rudy had overheard him speaking with Luc. The conversation was harmless, but how could he explain that if Rudy wasn’t willing to listen? “Why is he pushing me to go to California and yet refuses to come along? Are we not a couple? Are we not working toward a united goal?”
Sofie didn’t have the answers. She sucked at relationships. Misery loved company, so she’d joined JP in a bitch and moan session while attempting to drown their sorrows in a bottle and a half of wine. Jean-Pierre had passed out on the couch. Sofie wasn’t sure she’d ever sleep again. Her body and brain surged with morbid thoughts and raw emotions.
She elbowed her way through the packed house, searching faces, asking questions. No Rudy. A Donna Summers song blared over the speakers. The audience whistled and cheered. Sofie glanced toward the stage and saw a buff drag queen dancing in five-inch acrylic platforms while lip-syncing into the microphone. Okay. At least she knew Rudy had followed through and transported the scheduled performer to the club. Maybe he’d checked in with Anthony.
“Flying Monkeys,” he shouted over the music. “Problem with a cage dancer.”
She nodded and then squeezed and shimmied her way through the shoulder-to-shoulder crush of men. She pressed a hand to her moist brow, breathing easier when she reached the Over the Rainbow skywalk. No crowds here. Just a few adventurous women crossing over to Ruby Slippers. One of them eyed her and smiled. Sofie smiled back, wondering for a scant moment if she’d have better luck in a same sex relationship. Then she thought about Rudy and JP who had their own set of problems. A relationship was a relationship was a relationship. Besides it would be kind of hard to pursue a gay affair when she was hard core straight.
She hurried past the women, her spiked heels sinking into the plush carpet as she made her way toward the hetero dance club. When she finally crossed over into Flying Monkeys, a suffocating wave of heat and hedonism greeted her. Trance music blasted from high tech speakers. Bright colored, man-sized birdcages were strategically placed throughout the cavernous room. Inside: male and female dancers wore outrageous, skimpy costumes so obviously designed by Jean-Pierre. The man truly was a genius. Sofie grabbed the gold railing of the upper tier and scanned the club for Anthony.
Hordes of sweaty, half-naked people undulated on the dance floor below, most of them with drinks in hand. The erotic atmosphere sent a shiver up her spine. Strange. She’d partied here on several occasions. She’d danced seductively. She’d drunk too much. She’d even experimented with Ecstasy, though she’d die before ever admitting that to Lulu. But once had been enough. Knowing what she knew now about the Falcones and the drug-smuggling ring put a new and ugly slant on the whole party scene. Her heart pounded with repulsion and dread. Stay away from Oz.
She was ready to take flight when she spied Anthony on the lower level talking with one of the dancers. Swallowing her trepidation, she hurried down the spiral staircase and elbowed her way through another crush of patrons.