The Heart Of The Game

by Pamela Aares

  Was Alex baiting him?

  “Yeah, well, Vico Gualdieri has the advantage. He’s a Roman.”

  “And that means what?”

  “Familiar.” Damn. He was in no position to explain what Vico’s real advantage was. That he was a man from her social class, from the city she loved and was departing for sooner than Cody wanted to remember. “Polo guy and all that.”

  “He’s also a jerk.” Alex crossed his arms. “Want to tell me what’s been eating you?”

  It was only a matter of days before Zoe would be leaving and then everyone would know her plans. Cody caved and told Alex in confidence about her gallery project. And about her return home. And about his deep knowing that any move on his part to keep her from what she really loved would be a disaster—if not now, surely later. And though he wished he could engage Alex’s good counsel about his concerns for Zoe’s safety, that would be crossing into territory his dad had specifically warned him against entering.

  Alex was quiet, apparently mulling over the information.

  “I get it,” he finally said. “That’s tough, man. You can’t change the course of another person’s dream.” He waved an arm up at the looming towers of Trovare. “I learned that lesson early on.” He drew his brows together. “I’m just lucky Jackie loves it here, that her work is here. If it hadn’t been...” He shook his head as a dark, stormy look crossed into his eyes. “I honestly can’t say what might’ve happened. But I’ll tell you one thing I’ve learned—you ignore love and you’re playing with fire. It’ll burn you in places that you didn’t even know you had pain receptors.”

  “I didn’t say I was in love.”

  “You wouldn’t be looking down the road, thinking about Zoe’s long-term well-being, about what makes her truly happy, if you weren’t in love. We wouldn’t have had this whole touchy-feely talk if you weren’t in love.”

  Cody nodded. Hearing the truth from Alex drove the pain deeper. “I can’t help wishing she’d wake up and fall in love with California.”

  Alex quirked his mouth into a half smile. “Sure you don’t want to stay for Mass? Call on the powers of the heavens?”

  “I need to get back to the city. But put in a good word in for me, would you?” Cody fished his car keys out of his jeans pocket. “Thank Sabrina and Kaz and give my best to Jackie.”

  “Will do.”

  Cody shook Alex’s hand and headed back across the drawbridge.

  “Hey, Bond...”

  Cody turned back.

  “Miracles happen,” Alex said with a wry smile. “I know. And isn’t this the season for miracles?”

  Cody nodded. And wished he believed in miracles.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Christmas morning should’ve felt like any other morning, but it didn’t. Cody made coffee and toast and stared down at the lights strung on houses and buildings in the city below. Even the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance seemed to have taken on a more festive hue in honor of the day.

  There was no escaping that it was Christmas Day and he was alone. For the past five years he’d liked it that way. Wherever he’d been, he’d made a simple breakfast and then gone for a long run. And he always called his sister. He checked his watch. Kat would be in Montana. He decided to call later when he was in a more cheerful mood. He’d already checked his phone five times to see if there was a message from his dad. But maybe even spies took Christmas Day off.

  He reached for the fridge and saw the fortunes he’d stuck onto it with magnets. At the time, keeping them seemed like a good idea. Now he stripped them off the fridge, but he couldn’t bring himself to toss them into the trash. And gave up trying to pretend he was fine.

  He donned his running gear and drove across the bridge and out to Rodeo Beach. It was still early enough that most people were opening presents and having breakfast with their families. He had the beach to himself except for a dad wearing a Santa hat who was tossing a Frisbee to two small boys down the beach.

  The littlest boy missed a toss, and Cody retrieved the Frisbee before the surf carried it away. He tossed it back to the dad.

  The dad stared for a moment. Cody prepared himself for what he knew was ahead.

  “Hey, aren’t you Cody Bond?”

  “Last I checked.”

  “Dad! Dad! Take a picture!” the littlest guy shouted. “He’s my favorite player.” The boy ran up to Cody. “You’re my favorite player,” he repeated. “And I’m not just sayin’ that.” He turned to the boy with him—a brother, from the resemblance. “Danny, tell him I’m not making it up.” Before the brother could answer, the boy added, “You were amazing in game seven. I was out in the bleachers. I almost caught your home run!” He looked at his dad. “Tell him we did. It landed only three rows up from us. Next year we’re—”

  “You have to forgive him,” the dad in the Santa hat broke in. “He sleeps, eats and dreams baseball.”

  Cody squatted down. “What position do you play?”

  “Third base, ’cause I’m quick. And I antoocipade.”

  “Anticipate,” the dad corrected.

  “Anticipate,” the boy mimicked. “I want to be a catcher, just like you, but right now we have three guys who catch and the coach says I’m too small.”

  “That’s enough, Buster. Let Mr. Bond get back to his run.” The dad looked over to Cody. “Sorry for the bother.”

  “It’s no bother.” And suddenly Cody’s Christmas spirit kicked into gear. “Do you have a pen?” he asked the dad.

  The dad patted his jacket pockets and came up with one.

  “Don’t suppose you have paper too?”

  The guy sorted in his other pocket and came up with a receipt. “I don’t need this,” he said.

  “Tell you what,” Cody said to the boys. “Give me your address and I’ll send you some tickets for a game. Good seats.”

  If he didn’t make the team, he’d have to beg seats off Kaz or Alex. But heck, it was Christmas, might as well make the kids’ day.

  The older brother lit up. “We’ve never sat anywhere but the bleachers. Wait till I tell Mom.”

  “Could you send a signed baseball card too?” Buster asked.

  “Buster.” The dad pulled the little guy back to stand beside him. “Just say thanks for what Mr. Bond is offering.”

  Cody was relieved. He couldn’t promise to send a card. If he didn’t make the team, he wouldn’t have one.

  “Thank you,” Buster said, looking down at his toes. Then he jerked his head up, a big smile plastered on his face. “Want to play Frisbee with us?” he asked with the guileless innocence of a seven-year-old.

  If anyone had told Cody that he’d have one of the best Christmas mornings ever by simply playing Frisbee with a family of total strangers, he wouldn’t have believed them. But he did. And for about half an hour, he only thought about Zoe a hundred times instead of a thousand.

  Cody finished shaving and threw on a shirt. Once again the laundry had put too much starch in his dress shirts. But he sure wasn’t going to iron them himself when the man down at the corner could do it for three dollars. His fingers fumbled with the starch-encrusted buttonholes. Then the tie he’d chosen wouldn’t knot properly. He tossed it away and grabbed another. His fingers wouldn’t cooperate, and it took three tries to get the darned thing on straight.

  He shouldn’t even be going to the damn party.

  Right.

  Like he had the willpower to stay away. Zoe had better get on a jet and fast before his baser instincts kicked in and overrode his good intentions.

  He stared out the window of his condo. The storm that had been threatening for the past twelve hours was letting loose, the gray skies a perfect backdrop for his burgeoning piss-poor mood.

  Maybe he was a masochist, but he couldn’t resist seeing her one last time.

  His phone buzzed. Dad again. They’d texted back and forth since Christmas, but this was the first time he’d caught up with Cody.

  “You have a moment?�
� His dad’s voice sounded solemn.

  “You know it.”

  “Did you have a good holiday?”

  “Good enough.” Surely he hadn’t called to discuss holidays.

  “My first Christmas with your mother in six years.”

  “I heard. That’s great, Dad.”

  “I’ll cut to the meat of it.”

  “Yeah, thanks. I’m headed out shortly. To the Tavonesis’.”

  “I see.” He cleared his throat. “I would’ve called sooner, but my guys in Langley were off for a couple days before Christmas. We tracked your credit card hacker. You were right to suspect Vico Gualdieri: the information was buried and the tracks well covered, but he was behind the hack. He’s a clever guy, but he can’t know the level of intelligence he’s up against. It was a stupid move on his part, easily traced by people who know what they’re doing.” He was silent a moment before he said, “You must’ve done something to piss him off for him to take a risk like that. But that’s a classic foible of these young cybercriminals. They’ve been wined and dined and chased after by governments and corporations and they start to think they’re invincible.” He paused. “I take it he doesn’t like your interest in Zoe?”

  “Maybe not.”

  His dad was a perceptive man; it was likely all successful agents were. That Vico would go to such ends just to take a swipe at Cody seemed ludicrous. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of a snake like Vico having designs on Zoe. And the idea of hackers having the kind of power his dad described intensified the burn.

  “In any case, Vico Gualdieri is just one of many hackers targeted in a high-clearance investigation involving fund siphoning from international banks. He and the others being investigated are suspected of stealing digital certificates, of using them to hijack data and bend it to their purposes. Modern-day bank robbery, really. From the info we have, it’s not clear who’s at the top of the bank-hacking operation, but Mafia families could be involved. Maybe the Gualdieris. But they aren’t likely in the lead.”

  He paused and Cody knew he was sorting and editing, presenting only the information he was at liberty to tell him.

  “I suspect that the bank hacks aren’t at the heart of this operation. And that Vico’s part of a nasty puzzle far more complex and dangerous than he may know. A puzzle that involves international arms deals and funding for terrorists.”

  Cody heard his dad take in a breath. And realized he’d been holding his own. He made himself breathe as he listened.

  “Some of the data leads to Santino Tavonesi, Cody. It’s puzzling, but... my guys suspect Santino is an undercover agent. And so do I.”

  He cleared his throat, a sound Cody remembered from his childhood. Instructions usually followed.

  “I don’t have to tell you to keep that information to yourself—no matter the circumstances?”

  “Got it,” Cody replied.

  “If the Gualdieris are part of an international arms-dealing ring, this could get ugly really fast. If Santino’s involved and he’s fearful that his cover could be blown, that explains why he moved the family, at least those he could, out of harm’s way.”

  Cody’s mind raced. “I have to keep her from going to Rome.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. If there isn’t Mafia involvement, she should be okay. Maybe even Santino doesn’t know who’s behind all this yet. But delaying Zoe wouldn’t hurt—at least until this wasp nest gets smoked out.”

  “I think I can handle a delay. How long?”

  “Four, maybe five, days. It looks like the sting to round up key operatives is planned for right after the first of the year.”

  Cody could tell that his dad knew way more than he was revealing. But he also knew his dad had put himself on the line. And he’d trusted Cody.

  “This cost you, Dad. Calling in favors.”

  “Worth it, son. Keep this under wraps. And keep me informed.” His dad again inhaled a long breath. “And, Cody?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t go doing anything too heroic. Or rash. There are professionals involved, a lot of them. And don’t tip off Gualdieri. I can’t tell you why, but just don’t.”

  Such words in the past would’ve inflamed him. But now, now that he knew what could be on the line—the possible dangers—and how vast the team of people making an effort to put things right was, he understood.

  “Right. I’ll call you when I get home.”

  Cody palmed his phone and then shoved it into the pocket of his sport coat. The same inner voice that told him what a hitter would be looking for at the plate, that told him what pitch to call for from the mound—the voice he trusted—nagged at him now, telling him to act, but act intelligently. Whatever it took, he’d keep Zoe from returning to Rome.

  He grabbed his rain jacket and raced out the door. He might not be free to make Zoe a permanent part of his life, but he sure as hell could make sure she was safe.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  I think you should wear the green silk,” Amber said as she plopped down onto the bed beside Zoe. “It brings out the gold in your eyes.”

  Coco turned from where she sat at Zoe’s mirrored vanity. “I vote for the red one. It is the holidays, after all.”

  “The red will look exquisite on Spice,” Zoe said, handing Amber the dress. “You have the hair to carry it off.”

  Amber wrinkled her nose. “You know how I loathe that nickname.”

  Zoe laughed. “After three months of chasing down rare herbs in Tibet, the name suits you better than ever.” Zoe pulled the green dress out of the garment bag and laid it on the bed. “Where’s Pippa?”

  “Down in the studio with Anastasia,” Amber said, smoothing a hand over the silk. “Pip’s not so sure she’s ready for full immersion yet. If I hadn’t insisted, she would’ve stayed in China for another week.”

  “I’m glad you insisted,” Zoe said softly. “This is the first time we’ve all been together since... since Mama.” She felt tears welling. Surrounded by her sisters, preparing for the party their father had planned for weeks, should’ve been a joyous occasion. The preparations for the gallery opening were going better than planned and she’d be going back to Rome in less than a week. But seeing Cody at Alex’s had thrown her. And now, with her family gathered around her, she’d begun to question the reasons she was so obsessed with the gallery project.

  Amber draped an arm around Zoe’s shoulder. “Coco told me about the gallery. I’m coming, you know. For the opening. We all are. Mama would’ve been so proud of you. I know I am.”

  “Papa isn’t,” Zoe said truthfully. Her father hadn’t spoken to her all day. His icy silence was like a gray film, muting everything.

  “He’ll come around,” Amber said in her best cheerful tone. “He just has it in his head that we’re all going to stay in the nest forever. You should’ve seen his face when I told him I’m taking the fellowship to study herbs in Switzerland. I’ll stay here until spring term starts, but then”—she waved her long graceful arms—“I’m off. We can meet up to ski. It’ll be fun, you’ll see. The important thing is you’re following your heart.”

  Coco shot Zoe a look. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Not now, Coco. No more lectures. I’m not in the mood.”

  Amber drilled Zoe with her best sister glare. “What have I missed?”

  Coco slipped on a pair of silver sandals and admired them in the floor-length mirror. “Just that our esteemed sister has the hottest guy on the planet after her and she’s running away.”

  “I’m not running away,” Zoe protested.

  A loud knock at the door saved her from explanations. She was tired of explaining. Especially since her motivations were tangling with her emotions and her emotions were winning.

  “Okay to come in?” Rafe looked beyond handsome in his dark gray jacket and patterned silk tie. Zoe hadn’t seen him since he’d arrived from Rome that afternoon. Soon they’d be living in the same city once again; spending time with her brother
would be good. Her dogs bounded in behind him and leaped onto her bed.

  “If you can tolerate this gruppo,” Zoe said, forcing a light tone. She patted each dog in turn, kissing them on their foreheads and breathing in their warm, welcome scent. Their tails wagged as she opened a jar of treats and handed one to each of them.

  “I see that I’ll always come in second to them,” Rafe said with a laugh and a nod to Pulu and Kaja.

  “I have my priorities.” She hugged Rafe. “You look delicious. I’ve missed you.”

  He kissed her on both cheeks. “I’ve missed you too. This is the first chance Gaetano and I have been able to get away, what with the late harvest and the grape crush. The house looks beautiful, Zizi.” He held Zoe at arm’s length. “But you aren’t dressed, and the party’s starting. What have you been doing up here all this time?”

  “Discussing Zoe’s move back to Rome,” Coco blurted out.

  Rafe’s eyes narrowed.

  “I was going to tell you tomorrow,” Zoe added quickly. “After you and Gaetano had a chance to settle in.”

  Rafe ran a hand through his hair. “That’s not a good idea. Not right now.”

  “Too late, it’s all set.” She told him briefly about the gallery opening.

  “You’re right—discussing this tomorrow is a better idea.” His tone chilled her. “In the meantime, get a move on sorellas. There’s a celebration awaiting its stars. The Trovare clan is already on their second glass of champagne.”

  He turned and left without looking back.

  “I hate it when he takes on that ‘I’m the king of the universe tone’ with us,” Amber said as she slipped into Zoe’s red dress. She helped Zoe zip up the green silk sheath, then said, “You need these to finish off your look.” She pulled a string of pearls from the pocket of the jeans she’d shed. “I bought them for you in Shanghai.”

  Amber fastened the pearls around Zoe’s neck.