Mr. and Mrs. Rossi

by Carolyn Hector

  “Don’t,” she warned with a raised brow. “If you don’t answer, they’ll come in.”

  “They?” Dante asked getting up and striding prideful across the room for his pants. He turned in time to see Harley pretend to be modest and look away. She didn’t fool him. The door cracked open, spilling more light into the room. Once again he heard Tai’s voice before seeing her. This time, while blinded by the light, he knew who she was.

  “Wake up love birds,” she practically sang—a vast change from what he’d expected. Last night she didn’t seem too pleased he’d stowed away on her yacht. Of course, if someone had proven his security system faulty, Dante might be mad as well.

  “Hey, we’re up,” Harley scooted over to the side of the bed.

  Dante watched Tai and Hannah waltz in and climb into bed with her. They both looked like a bottle of sunshine, full of energy. Dante noticed the smeared mascara underneath Harley’s long lashes, her hair disheveled as she tried to pull it up into some gizmo ball at the top of her head. He never wanted her more.

  Hannah propped herself up on a pillow she’d picked up from the floor and rested it behind her head. She stared at Dante. He looked for his shirt to cover up. “I’m sure this must be odd to find a man in your aunt’s bed.”

  “No,” Hannah said, chewing on a Twizzler, “I’m just not used to seeing them in the morning.”

  “Behave, Hannah,” Harley said.

  “What?” Hannah blinked innocently. “We’re all adults here.”

  Harley shook her head, “You haven’t proven it to me. Or did you forget about running away with Javier yesterday.”

  Dante watched the interplay between aunt and niece. Harley treated her niece with respect like she was an adult but there was definitely a strong line of authority there. Harley looked out for Hannah as if she were her own child. “Don’t worry Hannah, your aunt may have had other men but I do plan on being the last.”

  Three men walked in carrying trays with silver domes. Without seeing what lay underneath, Dante smelled the fresh cooked bacon. He didn’t realize he was hungry until he smelled the food—an unusual feat for him considering his team liked to call him the bottomless pit.

  “I like you,” Hannah smiled, “Can I call you Zio Dante?”

  Dante and Harley chorused opposite answers to the girl’s question. Displeased, Harley swatted Hannah’s leg. “He’s not going to be around for much longer.”

  While Harley spoke to Hannah, Dante shook his head and mouthed out, “Don’t believe her,” toward the girl. The men finished setting up the trays of food and pitchers of orange juice and left. Tai sighed as she got off the bed.

  “Well, I guess we’ll leave you two alone. We’re docking tonight.”

  “Do we get to know where we’re docking?” he asked.

  Tai nodded in Harley’s direction, “She knows.”

  Everyone walked out the door. Hannah giggled before closing the door behind her. Dante liked her. He never thought about having children of his own. He wasn’t the fathering type, not with his sorry of an excuse of a father. With Allegra gone, he had no nieces of his own. The closest thing he had to extra family was cousins. Dante claimed one of his teammate’s kids as his own niece. Jane Wentworth was one of the brightest kids he knew. Her IQ level surpassed anyone he’d ever met. Matched with her beauty and her brains, she was going to be a force to reckon with—good thing she had lots of uncles to look out for her.

  “So, where are we headed?”

  “Villa San Juan,” Harley answered honestly. “We should have been there by now but I’m guessing Tai gave us the night together.”

  “Well, God bless her heart.” Dante sat down on the bed and brought one of the trays between them. He set the lid off to the side and inhaled the welcoming sight of a peppers and onion frittata. He raised an eyebrow.

  “You being here gives Tai’s chef the chance to put his culinary skills from Italy to good use.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  “Don’t be,” Harley reached for an empty glass. Dante lifted the pitcher and poured for her. “If you end up spending the night again, you’ll wake up eating some mangu and fried cheese.”

  “I like mangu.”

  Harley raised a brow at him. “What do you know about Dominican cuisine?”

  “I know I like it. I told you, I have a place in Washington Heights. When I’m home I shop at the bodega and eat at the Latin street vendors.” The glass hid her smile but from the way her cheeks rose, he knew she was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Okay, well, just like Washington Heights is a home away from home for Dominicans, Villa San Juan is a home away from home for Puerto Ricans. My folks have a place off the beach there and Hannah’s house key is missing.”

  “Did she lose it?”

  “No.” Harley set the juice down on the nightstand. The condensation pooled at the bottom of the glass against the wood. “She had it yesterday morning when I questioned her in the kitchen. It was gone yesterday when we were at Alfaro’s.”

  “Speaking of Alfaro, what was the hocus pocus stuff all about?”

  Harley picked up the fork and dug into the egg omelet. She offered him a forkful first before speaking. Dante opened his mouth. His taste buds burst with the delicious flavors.

  “What hocus pocus?”

  “The disappearing smoke your friend had in her balloons. I haven’t seen it since,” he paused pushing his food around in his mouth.

  Harley’s shoulders perked up, “Since when?”

  “Since I visited the magic show when I was a kid.”

  For a second Dante thought he saw a flash of disappointment across her face. Harley’s shoulders deflated. He reached out to caress one and the false smile she offered did not reach her eyes. “Something wrong?”

  “No, not at all,” she dipped her fork for a bite for herself.

  They ate the rest of their breakfast in silence. Dante noted that Harley liked the bacon the best, a girl after his own heart. With docking coming up, they both agreed they needed to at least shower. Harley offered him to go first. He reluctantly went without her. Under the spray of the water, he recalled his night with Harley. This would technically be his second night with her and he still hadn’t tired of her.

  What did it mean? He could hear his supervisor’s, Cole Wentworth’s, wife. Rosalind Wentworth was a romantic at heart. She’d try to convince Dante he was in love. Would being in love with Harley be so bad? It had been policy to not share what one did for a living under the Special Tasks Bureau. He witnessed firsthand how it destroyed Cole and Rosalind’s marriage. In the end, the truth brought them together. Dante did not want to wait for ten years to pass to be sure. He had a hunch and he planned on sticking with it. He liked Harley. She certainly kept him on his toes. Dante lathered and rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. Washing the soap off his bearded face he scrubbed the hard hairs and wondered if Harley preferred the smooth look or the wolf look, as Jane would call it.

  After washing himself clean, he pulled the curtain back and fought against the urge to run out and see her again. That would be dorky, right? The water in the tub finished draining with a glug, leaving the sound of the television on in the bedroom. Did she like to watch the news while drinking her morning coffee like he did?

  “I left you some,” he stopped his announcement on the hot water the minute he opened the door to the bathroom he realized it had happened again. She’d left him. “Damn.”

  Chapter 8

  This time Harley did not leave Dante in the dark on purpose. They’d spent the morning and afternoon wrapped in their sheets enjoying each other’s bodies, giving in only when they took a break for a shower. Harley suggested Dante take one first, to give herself some time to recuperate, and while he sang a few bars of Paradise City, Tai ran into the room and pulled her out, no questions asked.

  Hannah Tomasello used the opportunity of her distracted aunt to slip off in one of the emergency boats—something Tai would have discovered had
her alarm system not been hijacked. Being so close to shore Tai did not want to wait for Dante to finish showering. Hannah had a half a day on them. Harley understood and took a quick whore’s bath and changed into a pair of black Capri pants and a black and white tank top.

  “Is she so stupid she thought we wouldn’t catch her?” Harley asked, propping her foot on the dashboard of Tai’s jeep to tie her black low top shoes.

  On a cloudless day like today, the vacationers were out in full force. The docks were loaded with boaters and beaches filled with tanners. Tai docked her small emergency lifeboat on the import side in the Gustavo Marina. Tai always kept a cheap vehicle in various cities where she docked and spent time. They sped through the cobblestone streets, to get to the causeway that would take them to where the Tomasello beach home stood. Colorful buildings passed by in a blur. The city reflected the homeland of the island of Puerto Rico. Many of its residents were first or sixth generations. Harley’s mother had loved coming to Villa San Juan when she couldn’t get the chance to go back home.

  Harley counted the new hotels since she’d last been here. Old and new and most importantly, all filled. The city boomed, not just during the summer, but the rest of the year as well. Many people made the northwest island their home. Children attended Villa San Juan school system from kindergarten to twelfth grade. “Stupid is someone disabling an alarm system,” Tai said drolly in the driver’s seat of the broken down green jeep. Silver electrical tape held together the stuffing of the padded weather-worn seats. An old Big Punisher cassette tape fell to the sandy floor mat as she maneuvered a sharp corner.

  “Are you blaming me?”

  “This is your little husband’s fault. He cut my alarm wires.”

  Harley grinned sheepishly and looked out at the view of the blue green water. The causeway curved out over the water. One direction brought folks to the beach, and the other back home. Local boats lined up under the bridge to enter the harbor to begin their summer vacations. It had been ages since she’d been on the bridge doing the same thing with her family. As a child she counted down her school days until her parents vacationed here. She hated the long trek over the bridge but her frugal parents refused to buy a boat. They saw no purpose in investing in a boat and paying rent for a marina slip when they could easily make the drive. If they had a boat, Harley imagined all the things she and Dante would do on it and not have to worry about noise level. The ache in her body brought a smile to her lips.

  “He’s not little.”

  “Ugh,” Tai’s upper lip curled, “I suppose not. The oaf owes me a new system.”

  “I’m sure STB can pay for it,” Harley hummed.

  “Speaking of, I heard from Makana,” Tai sped past the connection to the Héctor Lavoe Bridge, the bridge linking island town to the state of Florida. “She would not mind us picking up Leonardo Marchette ourselves.”

  Harley raised a brow. Makana never suggested a capture. She gave orders off of her given orders. Harley wondered if the coincidence had anything to do with the team she worked with before. Her mind scrolled the date on the Leonardo Marchette file. He wasn’t exactly out of their jurisdiction, since being a part of STB meant they did a little bit of this and a little bit of that. One of the good things about working for STB, the government did not care who made the arrest as long as a perp was taken off the streets.

  Harley had the picture from Dante’s phone burned into her mind. After what happened at Alfaro’s, he may have caught wind of them. She was sure he hadn’t picked up on her scent but then again the day wasn’t over. Surely this man knew Dante and that made this mission more dangerous for him—and Hannah.

  “What’s up with this guy? Mafia?”

  “He’s bad news,” Harley nodded. “Think spoiled son of New York Cosa Nostra with a borderline sociopath personality,” said Harley with a whistle. The hairs on the back of her neck rose in remembering the grizzly photographs she took. “The twisted kind of bad. I photographed some of his handy work smeared on the road. It was Hannah’s fiancé’s brother.”

  “All the more reason we need to find Hannah.”

  “I don’t know what’s going through that girl’s head,” Harley bit the inside of her thumbnail.

  “She’s in love,” Tai answered the rhetorical question while adjusting her spaghetti straps of her blue and white tank top. Tai’s outfit reminded her of a sailor’s. Only Tai could pull off white shorts with an ass like that. Speaking of being an ass, Tai’s last statement took a dig at her soul. “Kind of like you,” Tai finished.

  Harley’s neck strained from snapping her glare so hard at her friend. “What?”

  “I’m simply reminding you that he broke into your room last night and you didn’t shoot him.”

  “So,” Harley shrugged her shoulders, “he’s not so bad.”

  “So I’ve seen you take aim at anyone touching your mascara.”

  “Mascara is different!” Harley playfully touched the corner of her right eyelash. “A girl’s lashes are like her crown.”

  Tai turned her face toward Harley’s and rolled her eyes. “Okay, Elizabeth Taylor. Anyway, you say he’s not bad now only because he’s laying the pipe but, Tomasello, you found out yesterday about his real profession. He’s lying to your face and you’ve dumped guys for less.”

  “I haven’t been totally honest with him.”

  “Whatever,” Tai took another sharp corner, “on top of coming back here, I don’t want your judgment clouded.”

  “What?”

  “We’re in Villa San Juan, are you going to be okay? You know you’re going to run into him, he practically owns the city.”

  A shiver rolled down Harley’s spine. Almost twenty years ago Harley found herself infatuated with Julio Torres. Her sister told her he’d become mayor, which didn’t surprise Harley at all. The man always knew what he wanted. Harley was not a part of his plan. She’d left town ashamed and full of heartache. The experience left her with a hardened heart many men could not soften, until Dante. She thought about Dante without having any family, no influences and no one to support him. Why did she want to be that person for him? Harley forced a smile on her face.

  “I’ll be okay. We won’t be here long enough for me to run in to him. Even if I did, I’m an adult now.”

  “And all in love and married.”

  “I did not,” Harley emphasized ‘not’, “say I was in love.”

  “Your actions say something different.”

  “What actions?”

  “For starters, you didn’t shoot him.” Tai gripped the steering wheel and shouted. “You slowed down yesterday when leaving Alfaro’s. Whatever, enjoy him now, just don’t go soft on me.”

  Harley’s brows scrunched together as she feigned being hurt. “Soft? When have I ever been soft?”

  “Clear headed,” Tai corrected.

  Whatever Tai had to say was drowned out by a loud wail. Villa San Juan’s Fire and Rescue truck raced past them. The agents exchanged a worrisome glance and Tai pressed on the gas. Harley clung to the bar above her seat and the homes passed by in a blur. She hated Tai’s jeep but right now, she prayed the piece of crap to hurry. They turned the corner onto Mariposa Lane, seconds after the red fire truck. They shared another look. They were so busy looking at each other and following the truck, neither of them noticed the billowing flame reaching the cloud-free sky until a blue uniformed officer held up his hands, preventing them from turning into the driveway where her family vacation home stood for twenty years—or at least used to. The windows of the three story home exploded, sending broken glass along the beach, driveway, and fire crew.

  Harley leaped from Tai’s jeep, her feet barely touching the ground. She ran full speed toward the home but a police officer caught her and held her off to the side. Her lungs burned gasping for air. “I can’t let you in there, ma’am,” he said, plopping her on the other side of a yellow tape.

  “That’s my parents’ house!” Harley gritted between her teeth. She glan
ced out to the pier. A small motorboat bobbed in the water. Her eyes glanced around for a glimpse of Hannah. “My niece is in there.”

  The officer’s hard glare lessened at the news, he lifted the tape and allowed Harley to walk underneath, away from the nosy neighbors. “Hannah Tomasello?”

  “Yes,” Harley breathed a sigh of relief. “Where is she?”

  “She’s been arrested.”

  “Arrested?”

  “For arson,” the officer said calmly.

  “Arson?” Harley’s neck ached from the whiplash when she did a double take. “What the hell do you mean arson?”

  “A neighbor called in some suspicious activity going on this morning.”

  Harley hadn’t been back to Villa San Juan in forever. She had no idea who the neighbors were. Who was this Good Samaritan? “What neighbor?”

  “He wants to remain anonymous, but he said this place has remained empty for years minus the housekeeping and gardening. Last night someone had a full rage party. He witnessed a girl trying to break in this afternoon and he called us when his wife smelled gas. Cops caught her down the beach.”

  “Why would she break into her own house?” Harley asked, and then remembered not seeing the beach house keys on the key ring.

  “Ma’am, I arrived a few moments ago after we secured the building. We had no idea there was a bomb in the house.

  The word bomb caused a blast of pain in the pit of Harley’s stomach. Was Javier inside? Had Hannah been hurt? Tai approached at the bit of details the officer shared. “Where is Hannah now?”

  “She was taken to the station and booked this afternoon.”

  “I still don’t understand what proof you have?” Harley stated. Cases were no place for emotions. But this was more than a case—this was her niece they were talking about. Hannah was family. Hannah came to the house in search of Javier. Obviously, so did Leonardo.

  “Harley,” Tai tugged at the crook of her elbow. “Let’s go.”

  “Ma’am, what about your house?”