by Terri Reed
She made a noise in the side of her mouth. “Yes.”
Fiona returned, her hands full. “Here we go, two orders of my famous apple pie,” she said, as she placed two plates heaped with steaming hot apple pie and a generous side helping of vanilla ice cream on the table.
Alessandro breathed deeply, enjoying the spicy scents of cinnamon, nutmeg and apple. “Grazie, Signora Fiona.”
“Well, go on, taste it,” she prompted.
He took a bite, savoring the tang of apples and spice of cinnamon. “Mmm, molto bene.”
Fiona flashed a pleased smile. “I take it that means you like.”
“Sì.” He made a gesture of excellence with his fingers. “Magnifica.”
She gave a satisfied nod before moving on to another table.
“I think Aunt Fiona likes you,” Colleen said around a mouthful of apple pie.
“Really?” He took a bite of the sweet confection.
Colleen nodded. “She doesn’t give just anyone this big a portion,” she said pointing her fork to their plates. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
She dragged her fork through her ice cream, leaving long, thin tracks. “Did you have anything to do with the attack on your uncle?”
So much for the chitchat. Very deliberately, he set his fork down and looked her directly in the eye. He wanted her to see the truth in his expression as he said, “No, bella. I did not.”
She gazed at him a moment as if trying to discern the sincerity in his words. A thoughtful expression entered her eyes. “It was weird the way you got a call just moments before the news came that he’d been shot. Brendan mentioned it to me.”
He shrugged. “Coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidence. Everything happens for a reason.”
He didn’t like that she would think something so bad about him. He reached across the table and took her hand. “What would I gain from hurting my uncle?”
Two lines appeared between her eyebrows. “I don’t know. I guess that’s what puzzles me about the suspicions running around that you had something to do with the mayor’s shooting. I just don’t see how you could have benefited. I don’t think you had anything to do with it. I just needed to hear you say it.”
Thankful that she wasn’t judging him on the strength of rumors, he squeezed her hand before letting go. “I do not know my uncle well. For that matter, I don’t know my aunt or cousins well. But they are family.”
Her gaze narrowed. “And family is important to you?”
“Sì. To you, too, no?”
“Family is important.” She pushed her plate away and then pierced him with her blue eyes. “If family is important to you, Alessandro, tell me why you’ve never mentioned you have a wife and child?”
With the force of a gale wind, the grief that always surfaced when he thought of his wife blew over him, making him want to howl with rage.
He forced the unwanted emotions back to the dark hole in his heart.
Focusing on the moment, everything inside went on alert. He’d sensed Colleen had been working up to something; he just wasn’t prepared for this. He should have known that Colleen’s tenaciousness would lead her to dig into his life; she was a reporter, after all.
She posed a threat to all he’d been striving for over the last few years, as well as a threat to his family’s lives.
And to her own life.
He needed to make her understand how important it was for her to stop digging, that she could be hurt or even killed for her efforts. But how did he do that without revealing the true nature of his work?
He glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. Though no one seemed overly interested in them, he couldn’t be sure. He slid out of the booth and stood. Taking out his wallet and laying down some bills that would more than cover their pies, he stated, “This is neither the time nor the place, cara, for such discussions.”
Heart racing, Colleen scrambled out of the booth. Alessandro’s expression was unreadable as he placed his hand on the small of her back, the pressure warm and comforting.
She allowed him to lead her out the door. Once they were inside the car and headed toward her neighborhood, Colleen couldn’t refrain any longer. “So, answer my question. Why do you claim to be a widower?”
He gave her a sidelong glance full of anger and something else that twisted her up inside. She saw a deep pain in the depths of his eyes and she fought the urge to reach out to him, to soothe the hurt there. She needed to stay objective if she wanted to uncover his secrets.
He remained silent until he pulled up in front of her parents’ home. He turned off the engine and sat staring forward for a long moment.
Finally, he faced her and the fierce light in his dark eyes made her draw back, not in fear but in surprise.
“You must stay out of my personal business, Colleen. You must drop this. What you think you know is not for print.”
For the second time in as many days someone was asking for the impossible. First Holly, now this man. “I can’t. I’m an investigative reporter, Alessandro. This is what I do. It’s who I am.”
His nostrils flared with anger. “How can I make you understand that lives are in danger? If you pursue your…probing, you could destroy many lives. Including your own.”
The unnamed threat in his words sent a chill down her spine and solidified her desire to uncover the mystery surrounding this man. The challenge was always what drove her.
“Then tell me the truth,” she said. “Tell me who you really are and why you’re really here. And what do Dahlia Sainsbury and the museum have to do with you?”
He closed his eyes briefly as if struggling with a decision. When he opened them, the determination in his expression was almost palpable. “You must trust me, bella. Stop this now, before anyone gets hurt.”
His gaze shifted to something beyond her shoulder, out the window. “Your parents.”
She twisted in the seat to look out the passenger-side window. Sure enough, her parents, looking as though they’d stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting, were standing on the porch. If she didn’t get out soon she fully expected her father with his deep scowl would come charging down the stairs to drag her from the car to make sure she was all right.
The worried expression on her mother’s face made Colleen open the door and wave a greeting to let them know all was well.
Turning back to Alessandro, she said, “I’m going to find out the truth one way or another. It would be better if you told me.”
He hit the steering wheel with the flat of his hand. “No. You must let this go.”
“Sorry, can’t do that.” She slipped out of the car and shut her door, then watched him roar away. He hadn’t denied that he had a wife and child and she couldn’t ignore the disappointment slashing her chest.
Okay, so he was married with a family. Big deal. She had no claim on him, so she had no right to feel anything other than curiosity.
A reporter’s curiosity.
His reaction seemed over the top. He was protecting some other secret beyond having a wife and child.
What could he possibly be hiding that would make him so passionate about keeping it hidden?
Alessandro felt as if he’d gone ten rounds in a boxing ring. Colleen wouldn’t give up: it wasn’t in her nature. He knew that.
And in part, that was what drew him to her.
He liked the confidence and strength of character she possessed. He admired the way she went after a story and didn’t let go until she had answers. He just wished she didn’t view him as a story.
He entered his suite, closed the door and leaned back against it as the realization came that he wished Colleen would view him as a man.
But what good would that do either of them?
It was his job to keep secrets. It was her job to uncover them and put them on display for the world to see.
He’d somehow let her get under his skin. A
dangerous thing indeed.
He stripped off his sports coat as he walked into the living room of the two-bedroom suite, and stopped when he saw his brother sitting in the plush recliner, reading a book.
As always when he was not working, his brother dressed in casual cargo pants and a T-shirt splashed with the name of the latest fad designer across the front.
Tomas looked up. “Rough day?” he asked in their native language.
“That obvious?”
“Yes. And I’m about to make it worse.”
Alessandro groaned and held up a hand. “Let me at least take off my shoes and sit before you unload on me.”
Tomas went back to his book, which Alessandro noted with some amusement was Wild at Heart by John Eldridge. His brother was always looking for ways to deepen his faith.
Alessandro had long ago given up on that endeavor.
Kicking off his shoes, he stretched out on the couch and propped his head up on the throw pillow. “All right. What’s up?”
Tomas set down his book. “They want you off the case.”
Alessandro closed his eyes and focused on breathing. “No. I went over this the last time I was called in. I won’t. I’m close. I can feel it.”
“All the more reason for you to get out now. Let someone else take over. The higher-ups believe that your bitterness over Paola’s death is going to compromise the case and lead you to do something they don’t want happening.”
Alessandro snorted. “Like getting rid of Escalante once and for all?” He opened his eyes. “No deal. I’m in to the end.”
Tomas sat up straighter. “You’re getting emotionally involved, brother. You know that makes for a bad situation.”
Alessandro swung his feet off the end of the couch and stood up. “Of course I’m getting emotionally involved. Some of these people here are family.”
“Not all.”
“What does that mean?”
Tomas stood. “Colleen Montgomery.”
Everything inside Alessandro seized with apprehension. He began to pace. “I am not getting involved with her. Emotionally or otherwise.”
“Ha!” Tomas gestured in disgust. “You left the police station with her. Ate in a public restaurant.”
A protective anger stirred. Alessandro narrowed his gaze. “How do you know that?”
“Our contact here in town.” Tomas indicated the phone. “You need to make a phone call.”
Alessandro growled with frustration and grabbed the phone. He punched in the number for his contact from memory.
On the second ring a distorted, non-gender-specific voice answered, “Falcon.”
“You are not taking me off this case,” Alessandro stated in English. “I made that clear already.”
“We’re worried your personal feelings are getting in the way.”
“Personal feelings? You’re right, I have personal feelings about Escalante. The man’s a menace and needs to be taken down.”
“I’m not talking about Escalante. I’m talking about Colleen Montgomery. You can’t jeopardize the mission by becoming involved with an investigative reporter.”
He scrubbed his free hand over his face. “I’m not becoming involved,” he stated between clenched teeth.
He had no intention of leaving his heart vulnerable to a woman again, especially not to a strong-willed one, no matter how much he found her alluring.
“I can handle Colleen.”
“Not if she takes it into her head to find out all there is about you.”
Alessandro grimaced. He couldn’t let on that she knew about Mia. “It will take her some time.”
“You need to come in now!”
“No!” Alessandro held on to his rising frustration. “I’m close to getting Dahlia Sainsbury to trust me. I’m sure she’s in league with Escalante—I can feel it. I just need a little more time.”
“And what of Colleen?”
“She’s a suspect in Neil O’Brien’s murder. That should keep her occupied.”
“Hmm. Yes. We’ll make sure it does.”
Concern for Colleen arched through Alessandro, but he pushed it aside. He had to stay focused on bringing an end to Escalante and his drug trade. Colleen would be fine.
The image of Dahlia handing Colleen the tainted punch flashed in his mind. “Colleen needs protection. She’s become a target of Escalante’s because of her investigations.”
“Stay away from Colleen Montgomery. She’s no longer your worry. Get Escalante.”
The phone went dead.
Although logically Alessandro knew Falcon was right—Colleen Montgomery would only jeopardize his mission—he couldn’t help feeling as though he’d just lost something precious.
All the more reason for him to stay away from Colleen. She was a risk to his heart, and that was something he couldn’t allow. He had no desire to go through the heartache of loss again.
No, he had to stay focused on meting out the justice that God hadn’t seen fit to do.
FIVE
Three days after her arrest, Colleen stepped into the fire station much as she had a few months earlier when she’d been investigating the hospital fire; the fire at AdVance, Travis Vance’s private investigation firm; and the fire at Montgomery Construction.
Back then, Battalion Chief O’Brien had been alive and intent on blaming the hospital fire on Lucia.
Colleen’s articles on the not-so-seemingly random fires had helped to throw suspicion elsewhere. Namely on Chief O’Brien’s head. Boy, had he been steaming mad at the museum gala.
Now the man was dead and Colleen suspected of his murder.
A career-limiting development if she’d ever heard of one. Not to mention a life-altering situation if someone were successful in framing her for Neil’s murder. Her stomach bunched in a ball every time she thought about it.
“Hey, Colleen, what are you doing here?” Luke Donovan, Lucia’s partner, asked as he came out of the dining room where she saw several other firefighters gathered at the long table. Luke strode toward her down the short hallway. His big football player’s physique took up most of the hall. His blond crew cut looked damp, as if he’d recently showered. His jeans were worn to a faded blue and his plaid long-sleeved shirt hung partway open, revealing his T-shirt underneath.
“Doing a little investigating,” she answered warily, adjusting the collar of her pink cotton blouse. Would Luke demand she leave, considering she was suspected of murdering his boss?
“Of the chief’s death?”
“Yes.”
He nodded, his grimace one of sympathy. “I don’t blame you. Just for the record, none of us here think you had anything to do with his death.”
Relief washed through Colleen. She gave Luke a grateful smile. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Is Lucia around?”
“In her cube.” He indicated the direction of the office cubicles with a jerk of his head.
“See you later,” she said and headed for Lucia’s desk.
Her friend was busy writing on a thick notepad. Her dark, straight hair hung over one slim shoulder and spilled down her back to cover most of her striped shirt.
The cluttered work space made Colleen wince. A stuffed bear sat in one corner; several family photos lining the back wall were barely visible because yellow sticky notes with Lucia’s precise handwriting covered every available smooth surface. Colleen leaned forward to read one. Objective of Fire???
“You know, I’d like an answer to that question myself,” Colleen stated as she flicked a finger at the sticky note.
Lucia sat back with a small yelp. “Don’t do that.”
Colleen grinned. “Sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.” Lucia’s eyebrows creased. “I’d like to know how my brother could think you had anything to do with the chief’s death.”
Colleen shrugged. “He’s just doing his job.” But it still stank that he’d had to arrest her. Her stomach turned queasy, but she forced herself to stay calm. She didn’t want anyone to kno
w how upsetting she’d found the experience.
Lucia’s chocolate brown eyes flashed with anger. “There are plenty of people who had reasons enough to want the chief in the grave. Me included.”
Grateful for her friend’s support, Colleen gave her a quick hug. “You’re the best.”
Hugging her back, Lucia commented, “You seem awfully chipper for someone detained and questioned for murder.”
Being hauled to the police station like a criminal in the back of squad car had been infuriating, but leaving with Alessandro in his sporty vehicle had salvaged some of the day. But she refused to voice that thought. No need to let her friend know that bit of information.
Colleen stepped away and hiked a hip on the edge of the desk. “Hey, I’m not guilty until proven otherwise. And since there isn’t any proof to be found, life’s good.” At least she hoped it would be.
With a sly grin, Lucia shot back, “Especially when a certain handsome Italian man soundly defends you, then whisks you away to have a leisurely breakfast at the Stagecoach.”
Heat crept up Colleen’s neck. Lucia knew her too well and knew too much. “He’s just a friend.” And that was all he could ever be.
Lucia scoffed. “It’s me you’re talking to.”
Colleen rolled her eyes. “You and Holly see romance in everything.”
“Don’t knock it until you try it,” Lucia said with a wide smile.
Colleen smiled back, happy for Lucia, who’d found love with Rafe Wright, a smokejumper for the U.S. Department of Agriculture. They’d met when Rafe had saved Lucia’s life in the hospital fire. For the first time, Colleen felt a twinge of envy for her friend’s joy in finding a relationship that made her so happy. Did she ever become anxious? Worry that somehow it would all end and she’d be left alone and grieving like Mary? The thought was heart-wrenching and too awful to consider.
Wanting to switch to a less disconcerting topic, namely the reason she’d come to the firehouse, Colleen asked, “Could you get me into the chief’s office?”
Lucia’s eyebrows drew together. “Do you think you should do that, considering…”
“It’s my life, my reputation on the line here.”