He tore his gaze from the images of his enemies and stared at Bella as she crouched down to pet her puppy. Why was he so distracted by the bombshell talking to her dog on her back porch? He had a job to focus on, Mafiosi to take down. Nothing had ever gotten in the way of that before. Because he hadn’t let it.
Closing his laptop, he stood, watching Bella gain her feet and glance toward his window. Their gazes locked, holding through the glass. He clenched his jaw, remembering her conversation as she made a date with another man.
“I was thinking about you today.”
Foolishly, he’d been thinking about her. He could still remember the way her legs felt pressed against his while she held his chin and licked her sinful lips. He’d regretted turning down her invitation for soup, sandwiches, and conversation. But now he was glad he had.
She smiled and sent him a quick wave, then went inside and shut off the light to the porch.
He turned away, thanking his lucky stars that it was bound to be a good four or five days before they bumped into each other again. They’d only just met, yet he found himself drawn to her. They had nothing in common. She wasn’t his type, and she’d made it clear he wasn’t hers either, but that didn’t mean he was stupid enough to believe that they didn’t share a mutual attraction.
He walked down the hall toward his home gym. He’d already worked out today, but maybe another round with the punching bags couldn’t hurt. For years, boxing had been his lifeline, giving him an outlet for the pent-up anger that seemed to come with the endless frustrations of his career. He wasn’t so angry anymore. He wasn’t sure what he was, but boxing was something he knew and understood—one of the only things he understood. Bella Colby was kind and funny, but beyond that she was a mystery. And that was exactly the way she was going to stay. If she wanted to have dinner every now and then or take a walk on the beach, that was fine, but otherwise he had every intention of giving them both plenty of space.
Chapter Seven
Bella sat across from Dad in North Basin Country Club’s upscale dining room. She stabbed spinach, leeks, and the other half of the seared sea scallop she’d sampled moments ago and bit in, finding her dish to be perfectly prepared. “This is really good. How about yours?”
Dad nodded. “I enjoy a good lobster tail every now and again.”
She went after more of the wilted spinach. “And to think we used to beg Mom for pigs in a blanket.”
He smiled. “I still like pigs in a blanket, but I can never get the dough cooked around the hotdogs without burning the rest.”
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten crescent rolls and processed meat. “Mom was an expert.”
“She was.”
She sipped her wine and set it back down, trying to think of ways to keep the conversation going. They’d had several long, uncomfortable pauses over the last hour. She glanced around at the other patrons, wondering if she and Dad appeared as cozy and happy as everyone else enjoying their evening meals. Clearing her throat, she focused on Dad again. “You know, I would love to cook for you, maybe have you down to my house one of these days.”
Dad paused with another bite on his fork before he brought it to his mouth.
“It’s only an hour or so away, depending on traffic,” she rushed on when he didn’t appear to be excited about the idea. “I would love to introduce you to Lucy.”
“You can bring Lucy up to see me. We’ll meet at the park or something.”
Why didn’t he want to come to the Palisades? “Sure, but I would love for you to see where I live. I could take you to my office and show you around. I’ll make you a home-cooked meal. Lucy and I have an amazing beach spot too.”
“Maybe.”
Definitely not the enthusiastic yes she’d hoped for. “It’s something to think about.”
“I’ll do that.” He shook his head and chuckled. “I still can’t believe you have a Great Dane.”
She nodded, grinning and grabbing her phone. Although she’d shared a few pictures with him on Sunday, she found another, showing off her pretty girl once again. “She’s beautiful.”
He smiled. “She’s a big one.”
Bella shrugged. “I guess. She’s smart and gentle and has a sweet personality. The kids at the children’s hospital love her. I do a rotation one Saturday a month in the oncology unit and thought it would be fun to get Lucy involved.”
Dad frowned. “I didn’t realize you have a medical degree.”
She let loose a small laugh. “I wish, but no, I don’t.” She swiped at one of the tendrils she’d left free from her French twist to complement the halter neckline of her black wide-leg jumpsuit. Slowly, she found herself relaxing as she and Dad fell into an easier rhythm. “I consult with the pediatric patients and their parents about their skin care needs. Chemo treatments can dry out their little bodies and wreak havoc on their systems. I do an assessment and come up with a plan to keep them moisturized and as comfortable as possible. And the kids really dig the little facials I give them.”
“That sounds like a great thing. Your mom raised you right.”
By the time Bella had turned eleven, she’d been raising herself and oftentimes her mother as well, but she nodded anyway. What good did it do to tell Dad that the Kelly Colby he’d left behind had ceased to be the same woman who’d made them waffles on Sunday mornings? “I love the kids, and I love giving back.”
“I’m proud of you.”
How long had it been since she’d heard those four simple words, and why did they hurt and lift her spirit all at the same time? She dropped her gaze from his and stared at the flame dancing on their tea light. “Thank you.”
Dad set down his fork and patted his belly.
She glanced at his plate. He’d hardly eaten anything at all. “Are you finished?”
“Yeah. I had a snack before we came.”
“Oh.” She forked up another bite of greens and seafood, then set down her silverware, not wanting to be rude.
“Don’t be afraid to eat.”
“I’m full,” she fibbed. “But I’ll take this with me. I’ll have it for lunch tomorrow.”
“Good idea. Do you want a peek at the dessert menu?”
She studied Dad, dressed in his cheap mint-colored golf shirt and khaki slacks. The decades had flown by, and Dad had grown tired and old. He would be sixty-five in August, but he easily could have been mistaken for someone five to ten years his senior. Neither of her parents had aged well. “No, thanks. I need to be heading back to LA before it gets too late.” She scrutinized his pasty complexion. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Never better.” Dad raised his hand, signaling for the check.
She nodded, but as their evening was coming to an end, she realized that the pedestal she’d held her father on all these years had been distorted by fond memories and the complete adoration of a five-year-old girl. No one was perfect, but she’d built him up to be exactly that, whether he’d abandoned them or not. Dad was no different than her or any other flawed human being. Foolishly, she’d hoped their reunion would bring her peace and a sense of the normalcy she’d craved but had gone without for so long. Instead, she found herself shaken and a little sad that every time they met up, her happy illusions slipped further away. “That’s good.”
The waitress brought over the bill and set it in the center of the table.
Bella made a grab for it.
“I’ve got it.” Dad snagged it before she could.
“Are you sure? You paid for lunch.”
“I’m retired, but that doesn’t mean I’m destitute.”
“I know.”
“A father likes to treat his daughter to a nice meal.” He pulled out a bank card—probably the one Jed had used to track him down—and handed it off to the waitress.
“I’ll run your card and box up your meals,” the waitress said.
“Just hers.”
“Sure.” She walked off with Bella’s dish.
Be
lla looked at Dad’s full plate again. “You could make a lobster salad for lunch with your leftovers.”
“I’m all set.”
“Okay.”
He picked up his phone. “I should call for a cab.”
She shook her head. “I’m driving you home. It’s the least I can do.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Yes, it is. I insist.”
“Bella—”
“I insist, Dad.” This not being welcome at his house was foolishness. If he was embarrassed, he was going to have to get over it. His zip code and lack of square footage mattered little to her. “I’m taking you home.” She pushed back from her chair as he signed the bill, considering the debate over.
“All right.”
They stepped out into the fresh air, and he lit a cigarette.
Bella opened her mouth to scold but closed it again. It wasn’t her job to be a nag. She planned to help him change his ways subtly—less soda and cigarettes, more fruits and vegetables. But they needed to get to know each other better first. She waited several steps away for him to finish, then kept the top down in the car for the ride home.
“Nice night.”
“It is. I love feeling the wind in my hair.”
Dad nodded.
The silence stretched out again as the miles passed by. She slid him a glance and gripped the wheel tighter. “So, I’m going to a wedding next weekend. Would you like to come? You can be my plus one.”
“That sounds nice, Bella, but I like to keep to myself.”
That hadn’t changed. Dad had always been quiet—a family man who’d done his job and come home to his fiancée and daughter. “I thought I would ask.” And it shamed her when she realized she was relieved that he’d turned her down. Although she was happy to have him back in her life, she found their visits exhausting.
“You should bring a real date. A beautiful young woman like you shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone who would like to go along.”
“I’m not interested in dating right now.”
He looked at her. “Someone break your heart?”
“More like bruised. But I’m over it. I go out occasionally, but I haven’t found anyone that I feel that click with.” She shrugged, immediately dismissing any thoughts of Reed that tried to sneak into her mind. “There’s no rush.”
“No, there’s not. You’re young.”
“Exactly.” She turned down his street and into his driveway, then shut off the headlights and unfastened her seat belt. “Home sweet home.”
“You don’t have to get out.”
“Of course I do.” She opened her door. “I’ll walk you to your door.”
“Only if you want to.” Dad scanned the dark as he got out—a habit of his she’d forgotten but remembered as soon as she saw him do it.
“I don’t think we’re going to get mugged in the driveway.”
“You can never be too careful.”
“I suppose that’s true.” She waited for him to come around to her side. Taking a chance, she grabbed his hand.
He hesitated, then secured her fingers in his big palm as they took the steps to his house. They stood in the porch light.
She smiled at him. “Thank you for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ve—I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too. You’ve always been such a smart, pretty girl. I’m proud that you grew up kind and that I can say you’re mine.”
Her eyes filled as she smiled again and hugged him.
He wrapped his arms around her.
She closed her eyes and held on, embracing him as she’d wanted to for so long. “I love you, Daddy.” She eased back and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Good night, Bella Boop.”
She grinned. This was their new beginning. He’d been gone, but he was here now—and trying.
“Go get in your car. I want to see that you get back on the road safely.”
“Okay.” She gave him another kiss on the cheek. “Let’s do this again soon.”
He nodded. “We will.”
She walked to her car and got in, waving after she backed out, struggling with a myriad of emotions. As she made her way through town and to the 405 on-ramp, she was tempted to call Abby or Wren so she could talk to someone about this huge development in her life, but she didn’t reach for her phone even though she had an hour to kill on the interstate.
Long ago, she’d learned the hard way that some things were better left her secret. She’d worked tirelessly for everything she had now, always eager to leave her past behind. But it was right here in her face again. The moment Jed called her and told her he’d found Dad, she’d been forced to take it all back out and remember everything she’d rather have forgotten.
In Kansas City, Nashville, Albuquerque, and the million other places she’d lived, people had known about her broken home and figured out, eventually, who her mother had been. Here in LA, she got to be anyone she wanted—who she’d always needed to be. If her friends knew the truth, they might look at her differently—the crushing disapproval she’d recognized when people realized she was the daughter of a one-time stripper turned prostitute.
~~~~
Reed sat parked three houses down from Vincent Pescoe’s residence, hoping to catch a glimpse of his man. His eyes had been glued to the property for close to two hours, but so far, no dice. Someone was home. The lights were on in the living room, but it was impossible to see what was going on inside with the curtains drawn over the windows.
He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and blew out a long breath, struggling with a sense of restlessness. Typically he didn’t mind the endless waiting. He and Joey had done it for years, but everything was different now. He no longer had twenty-four hours a day to sit idle and hope for his big break. They were running short on days to keep Alfeo Caparelli locked away.
They’d already missed out on a good chunk of time while Reed had been on duty in Seattle. If he didn’t get them something to work with soon, they were going to have a serious problem. Finding Nicoli was only the beginning. Getting him to cooperate was going to be a whole nother matter. But they had to make absolutely certain this was him first.
His gaze wandered to the door handle as he thought about getting out and knocking on the door, but Vincent wasn’t likely to answer. It was late—close to nine. Reed could be anyone—someone from a Caparelli hit team sent to pop a bullet in the back of Vincent’s brain—the deadly price for being a traitor. Shaking his head, he stared straight ahead. Now wasn’t the time to get stupid and screw everything up. The last thing he wanted to do was spook their one and only promising lead and send the guy running.
He perked up when a car turned down Darby Avenue and pulled into Vincent’s residence. “Here we go,” he said, yanking up the camera as he relished the familiar rush of excitement. Ruthlessly, he turned off his emotions, focusing only on the job as the vehicle’s headlights switched off, throwing the driveway into darkness. He zoomed in, but it was impossible to see who sat in the VW convertible.
A woman got out of the driver’s seat and stood in the shadows as a man came around to the front of the car. They clasped hands and walked up the steps, standing in the porch light. He tightened his focus on Vincent’s face, lit up by the naked light bulb only inches away, while his date kept her back to Reed.
“Got you, bastard. We’ve definitely got you,” he whispered, his heart pounding with his certainty that this was indeed their man as he leaned in closer to the windshield and captured several crisp shots of Nicoli Caparelli.
Now he wanted a peek at the woman. If she would just turn her head a little more to the left…
As if she heard what he said, she hugged Vincent and rested her head on his chest, giving Reed a full-on look at her stunning face.
He fumbled the camera and yanked it back, staring at Bella Colby cradled in one of America’s most dangerous mobsters’ arms. “No w
ay,” he muttered as he absorbed the slap of shock. “No fucking way.”
Adjusting the lens once again, his mind raced, trying to reject what he was seeing, but the lighting was hitting her just right, leaving him no doubts that this was his neighbor. He zoomed in as far as the camera allowed, studying her fancy updo and stylish outfit as she eased away and kissed Vincent’s cheek. How the hell was this happening? Why was this happening? This was Bella’s Saturday night date?
Vincent Pescoe had to have thirty, maybe even forty years on her. He was old enough to be her… He swallowed, watching Vincent and Bella smile at each other, and his confusion vanished into perfect clarity. Her big brown eyes. Vincent Pescoe’s brown eyes. “Son of a bitch.”
Keeping his finger on the shutter button, he captured every move Bella made until she backed out of the drive, waved, and headed toward the interstate.
He tossed the camera on the passenger seat and secured his safety belt, ready to turn over his engine, but he was forced to wait as Vincent stared in his direction. He wouldn’t be able to come back here again in his truck. Reed had little doubt that he was making the man suspicious. Vincent Pescoe aka Nicoli Caparelli was bound to know exactly who was coming and going on his street and which vehicles didn’t belong. Bobbing his leg up and down, Reed watched five minutes tick by on the dashboard, certain Vincent was giving Bella plenty of time to get on her way. If he believed people were tailing him, he wouldn’t want them following her as well.
Finally, Vincent went inside and shut off the porch light, then the lights in his living room. Reed wasted no time heading south on the 405. Bella would beat him home. She had a good ten minutes on him at least, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t knock on her door. He didn’t have an excuse in mind, but he would ask her for sugar if he had to. Wasn’t that some sort of clichéd neighborly line? He wanted another look at her eyes. They haunted him in his sleep, but another peek while he was fully awake couldn’t hurt. There was nothing wrong with corroborating a theory several times.
Deceiving Bella: Book Eleven In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series Page 7