by Loren Teague
‘Donuts?’ Now she really had him confused.
‘Like you read in crime novels. Cops always eat donuts, don’t they?’
He felt like laughing. ‘I’m no longer a cop. I’m a private investigator. And I’m Italian, so it’s zeppoli. Donuts made Italian style.’ He had a feeling she was going to swipe him one from the seething look she was now sending him. He’d better backtrack promptly. ‘Er … coffee’s fine. Any way it comes.’
When she headed inside he breathed a sigh of relief. Placing the binoculars on the table in front of him, he picked up a magazine on current affairs turning to the article on a recent report of disengaged staff in the police force.
Most police officers who leave on psychological or physical grounds would like the opportunity to return.
Yeah, he could relate to that, he thought, sighing. He missed the force more than he had realized. But, at least, he was lucky to work in a job similar to police work. Caruso Security Consultants had been established with the money he had received from disengaging from the police force over three years ago, when he’d been thirty years old. Although he had been well known in the area during his younger years as a cop, his reputation as a private investigator had taken time to build up and he’d been pleased with the company’s progress.
After a few minutes, he called out, ‘Gina, what’s happened to the coffee?’ There was no answer, so he called out again. Still no response. He threw the magazine down on the table and walked inside. No coffee percolated in the kitchen. Nor was there any sign of Gina. He frowned. Where the hell had she gone? Quickly, he checked all the other rooms but she was nowhere around.
‘Damn it….’ She must have slipped out the balcony doors in the bedroom and headed upstairs to see her grandparents. Irritated at her lack of consideration, he took the steps two at a time until he reached the top level. About to enter the entrance of the top apartment, he heard the Ferrari starting up in the garage. Then it dawned on him. He bolted through the garage door, catching her just as she was about to reverse.
‘Hey, what do you think you are doing?’ he gasped, wrenching the car door open.
Startled by him suddenly appearing from nowhere, Gina’s foot accidentally hit the accelerator. The car lurched forward scraping the car door against the wall of the garage.
‘I’m going shopping. And I don’t need your permission.’
‘I’ve told you, it’s too dangerous.’ He swung the door, examining the paintwork. Only a small scrape but it really irked him to see such a beautiful car dented. He cursed under his breath.
Gina revved the Ferrari harder, her slim legs moving up and down. ‘If you don’t get in, I’ll go without you,’ she threatened.
He knew she meant every word. So he made a quick decision. There was no way he could keep her prisoner and Mr Rosselini did give instructions she was to lead as normal a life as possible. He’d go along with her decision for now even if he didn’t agree with it. Still, she wasn’t going to get it all her own way. His voice came out firm. ‘All right, but you do exactly as I say. Have you got that?’
Gina smiled as she slipped her Armani sunglasses over her eyes. ‘Of course,’ she replied sweetly.
Rick’s eyebrows knitted together suspiciously at her tone. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re far too used to getting your own way?’
‘Uh-huh. Plenty of times.’
‘Yeah, I thought so somehow.’ He lifted his finger and wagged it. ‘I mean it, Gina. One step out of line and we’re straight back home. Got it?’
She nodded, though there was a curve to her lips that told him she wasn’t taking him seriously.
By the time she had driven the car out of the garage and onto the tarmac area, it was Rick who said, ‘Move over, I’m driving.’ To his surprise she agreed and shifted over to the passenger seat.
After parking in town, Rick was around to her side in a flash and took her arm firmly the minute she climbed out of her seat.
‘I’m not going to run away you know,’ she said, trying to shrug him off. ‘Quit holding me so tightly.’
He grinned. ‘I’ve never heard a woman complain about it yet. Besides, after that car tried to run you down I’m taking no chances.’
Rick’s cell phone went. He gave his name and listened for a moment. ‘Great. That’s a first. I’ll be there shortly.’
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘My old boss. Dave Brougham. He’s been busy on our behalf,’ he replied enigmatically. ‘I need to call into the station for a minute.’
The minute turned into five. Gina sat in the Ferrari while a young constable hovered nearby. Rick had taken the car keys with him. When he returned to the car, he was carrying a hard plastic box fastened with a padlock. He put it on the floor underneath his legs and started the car. He didn’t tell Gina what the box contained though he could see her looking at it curiously.
Eventually, she said, ‘So what’s in the box?’
‘Tell you later,’ he said abruptly.
Rick followed Gina around for three hours, in and out shops in the town, until he felt like strangling her. What was she buying all this stuff for anyway?
He soon found out. She gave him directions that took them to the other side of town and to where she demanded he pull up outside the women’s refuge.
‘It’s best you don’t come in,’ she warned, ‘or they’ll probably call the police.’
No one knew better than Rick how the women’s refuge would react if he fronted up to the place. He figured she’d be pretty safe since no one knew they were stopping there anyway. Even so, he wouldn’t let her get out the car until he double checked the street first.
‘Are you sure this is necessary?’ she asked impatiently.
‘Yeah, it is.’ He opened the car door for her, then lifted out the plastic bags of shopping. ‘I’ll be standing right out here waiting for you. If you’re not out in ten minutes, I’ll come in and get you. I don’t give a damn what the refuge staff think.’ He glanced at his watch noting the time.
She raised her eyebrows in disgust. ‘I’ll be out when I’m good and ready. Not before. So quit hassling me.’
Rick’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t reply. He surveyed the neighbourhood as he stood on the pavement. Not a person in sight. He picked up the newspaper he had bought earlier and studied it. After reading for a while, he glanced at his watch again. Gina had been away for almost ten minutes. Her time was now up. He walked over to the low, white painted house, situated behind a high wooden fence. Then he put one foot on the cross bar of the gate and peered over. No sign of her. The front door was closed, the blinds drawn tight on the windows.
Where the hell was she?
He glanced at his watch again. Fifteen minutes had already passed. He wasn’t going to wait a moment longer. He had just put his hand on the latch of the gate when he finally heard the front door of the house open. Gina’s voice drifted down to him. Again, he took a quick look. Gina was bending down, talking to a little boy. Rick watched for a few seconds until Gina noticed him peering over.
She bounded down the steps and opened the gate. ‘Quit spying on me,’ she said, irritation in her voice. She slammed the gate closed behind her.
‘You promised to be ten minutes,’ he retorted.
‘I didn’t promise anything. Being late is not a crime, Caruso.’
They stood glaring at each other until Rick finally said tightly, ‘Arguing isn’t going to get us anywhere. Come on, let’s go.’ He moved forward to open the car door for her. Curiosity got the better of him. ‘What exactly did you do in there?’
‘What do you think? I gave them the stuff I bought, and I had a chat to some of the women. Normally I stay for a cup of tea, but I knew you were waiting so I didn’t.’ She sighed wistfully. ‘I saw this little boy. He was gorgeous. All dark curls and big eyes. I’d love a kid like that.’
Rick slipped into his seat and sat there, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. He couldn’t make
up his mind about her. One minute he was convinced she was a spoilt brat, then she did something which completely dispelled that.
‘I didn’t think you liked kids,’ he stated, as he pulled out onto the main road.
‘What made you think that? I love children. Why shouldn’t I?’
Rick hesitated. ‘It’s just an impression I got. You seem like a party girl. No responsibilities.’
‘And you can’t enjoy life with children?’
He shrugged. ‘I didn’t say that.’
‘Well, what are you saying?’
Rick shrugged again. ‘I’m not sure really. Maybe I’m a little surprised at your enthusiasm, that’s all.’ Silence fell. ‘Why the women’s refuge?’ That didn’t make sense either, especially when she could have easily have donated money to a charity rather than actually buying the goods. She’d even gone a step further by delivering them.
Her voice had an unexpected edge to it. ‘I like to buy stuff for them when I can. They’re always needing things. I’m on the committee for fundraising. Last year I arranged an art auction. The money we raised refurbished the kitchen.’
Rick raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘There are plenty of charities you could support; why that one?’
She took a slow, deep breath before answering. ‘I spent some time there for a while when things got tough with my ex-husband.’
‘In the refuge?’ His forehead creased in puzzlement. ‘Why didn’t you go back to your family?’
‘Because I couldn’t. At least, not straight away.’ She hesitated. ‘Things were a bit complicated at the time.’ Before he could say any more, she added, ‘I really don’t want to talk about it right now.’
There was more here than she had let on, he realized. While he was tempted to ask her more questions, she had made it obvious she didn’t want to go there. He had to respect that. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the business-client relationship between them. It was already strained. He didn’t want an all out war.
‘OK,’ he replied slowly. ‘Let’s talk about something else.’
She smiled unexpectedly and that gave him a jolt. Dimples appeared in her cheeks making her seem younger. Rick gave her another quick glance. Oh man … that babe’s smile was a killer. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. Had she any idea what she did to a man? He knew he wasn’t totally immune to her charms, he merely chose to ignore the familiar feelings of attraction. Besides, she’s off limits, he reminded himself sharply. So forget it, Caruso.
Firstly, she was his client, and secondly, she was the granddaughter of Luigi Rosselini, a wealthy fishing industrialist. The Rosselinis owned the largest fish processing plant at the port and fishing was big business in New Zealand. Everyone knew that. Even the Italians had some sort of hierarchy in this town. The Rosselinis had money. Plenty of it. The Caruso family with their horticultural background didn’t. That was simple. And not very hard to understand, he told himself firmly.
He wiped the sweat which had sprung onto his temples, leaned forward and switched on the air conditioning and the CD player. Cool air blasted out refreshing his hot skin. What made him feel even better was Brilleaux, belting out a rhythm and blues number. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to a song called ‘PhD in Stupidity’.
‘Good band,’ she remarked. So she liked the same type of music as he did, he thought. One point in her favour. ‘Yeah, Brilleaux are one of the best blues bands in New Zealand,’ he replied. ‘Saw them in concert at the music festival last year. Absolute dynamite.’
‘You like the blues?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘Sure I do. What red-blooded male doesn’t?’
He tried to relax, pushing back his shoulders into the leather seat. Then stole a glance at her. Gina’s skirt had ridden up her thighs, exposing soft silky skin. How the hell was he going to remain indifferent? Gina Rosselini was hot stuff. And, man … those legs.
He tried to concentrate on the words of the song, but that made it worse.
She’s hot … she ain’t got a lot up top. She’s cool … she’s nice….
Get a grip, Caruso, he told himself. Keep your mind on the job, he thought, glancing in his rear-view mirror. He slowed down and indicated right.
‘Please, can we stop for something to eat first? I missed breakfast,’ said Gina.
‘Serves you right for trying to do a runner on me,’ he said lightly.
‘Have a heart,’ she pleaded.
Rick relented. He thought about where they could get some food without having to head back into town where she’d be more vulnerable. ‘OK. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll call in to my parents’ place for lunch.’
She glanced at him. ‘Are you sure they won’t mind?’
‘It will be fine,’ he replied firmly. ‘They’re used to me coming and going at all times. That’s the nature of my job.’
‘You live at home?’
‘Not exactly. I’ve a studio flat and office on their property, but I often eat at home. It’s easier. Especially since I work long hours.’ He paused slightly. ‘When I’m not working I head to my beach house, out of town. It has great surfing.’
Gina picked up the newspaper lying at her feet. She gasped, ‘Look at that. Haven’t they anything better to write about?’ The story of her sister being shot was splashed all over the front page in hideous headlines. ‘For goodness sake, that must have been that photographer who pushed his way through and stood over me.’ Queasiness rose in her stomach as she took in the details. Maria was lying on the ground with herself leaning over her, a shocked look on her face.
He reached over and grabbed the newspaper. ‘It’s better not to read stuff like that.’
‘Yes, I know …’ her voice tailed off. ‘But I just wanted to see what they had written.’
He tried to change the subject. ‘So what other things do you do in your spare time, Gina Rosselini? Since I’m going to be following you around for a while, it would help me to know what I’m in for. Three hours’ shopping is probably stretching me a little.’
‘That’s just tough,’ she answered in the same tone. ‘I’m going to make you work very hard for your money.’
He gave her a crooked smile. ‘Hard work never killed me. Seriously though, I need an idea of your movements during the week.’
She considered his question for a moment. ‘I don’t have any regular timetable,’ she admitted. ‘But I try to keep busy. Occasionally I help my grandfather with the business. Mostly to do with arranging functions for any visiting clients from overseas. That type of thing. But for the last three months, I’ve mainly been organizing the wedding.’
‘I heard you were planning on taking a trip overseas.’
She shrugged. ‘That’s true. I was going to Italy to visit relatives, but when Maria and Anthony announced their engagement, Maria wanted me to stay to help, so I postponed my trip.’
‘And now?’
‘Oh, I still want to leave here. Travel the world. But now I need to wait until Maria is better – and they’ve found the person responsible for shooting her.’
‘That could take a while.’
She didn’t answer, her green eyes worried. ‘I hope they catch him and he gets everything he deserves.’ She sighed as she stared out the car window at the slowly moving traffic. ‘So where exactly do you live in this town?’
‘Well, it certainly isn’t on snob hill,’ he said bluntly. ‘Damn it.’ He smacked the steering wheel, furious at himself for talking that way. He sounded insulting. And, as his client, she deserved better. ‘I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean that.’ His mouth twisted wryly. ‘Sometimes, it gets to me….’ His shoulders lifted then fell, wondering if he should take time to explain how he felt, then deciding it probably wasn’t worth it. Would a rich girl like Gina Rosselini really understand anyway?
‘Got a thing against money?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, the lack of it,’ he replied with a grin.
She laughed. ‘Don’t they say money is the r
oot of all evil? Well, you might not believe this but if I could choose my life without it, I would.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But I can’t … so I make the best of it and give away as much money as I can. That’s why Anthony doesn’t like me. He hates parting with money and he certainly doesn’t like the way I spend it.’
His voice lowered. ‘Come on, I don’t think he’s that bad. Sure, I’ve always known him to be careful money-wise, but he’s always the first to stand a round of drinks when he’s out with his mates. Besides, he’s a lawyer, so what can you expect?’
‘He’s our family’s lawyer. A while back I asked him for some of my inheritance to pay for extensions to the women’s refuge. He refused, advising my grandfather I was wasting my money. He said eventually the building would be pulled down.’ She sighed. ‘He might have been right, but it wouldn’t be for years. All the same I got the money in the end once I explained to my grandparents what exactly it was for.’
Rick listened to her words carefully. This was a new side to Anthony than the one he was familiar with. Could there be truth in what she said?
Within minutes they pulled up outside Rick’s parents’ place. The wooden colonial house, painted cream with burgundy window sills, had been built over a hundred years ago. An expanse of lawn, freshly mowed, rolled down to the road. Opposite the house, rows upon rows of greenhouses lined the street, all built by the Italian community.
‘What’s happening to the land next door?’ Gina inquired interestedly. A yellow digger moved back and forward shifting dirt from one area to another. Rubble and broken glass were heaped in a corner waiting to be taken away to the dump. Gina read the large sign nailed to the fence advertising a well-known property developer.
‘It’s a subdivision. Some of the tomato growers have sold out. Others have gone into rural parts taking their greenhouses with them.’
‘Are your parents going to follow?’
‘Not likely. Papá wouldn’t sell his land and greenhouses for all the money in the world. He’s worked too hard for it.’ However, he didn’t tell Gina if his father did sell, that would be the end to his parents’ financial worries. For the last few years, supermarkets had been squeezing the local tomato growers and profits had gone right down. To make matters worse, cheaper tomatoes were being imported from Australia.