Beneath the Silk (19 page)

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Authors: Wendy Rosnau

Tags: #Historical, #Romance, #Fiction, #Suspense, #Romance: Modern, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance - Contemporary, #Romance - General, #Adult, #Love Stories, #Romantic suspense fiction, #Fiction - General, #Chicago (Ill.), #Private investigators - Illinois - Chicago

BOOK: Beneath the Silk
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“So that was it?”

Joey shrugged. “When I heard what had happened at Silks I thought maybe you might need to talk.”

Jackson snorted. “Talk about what?”

“This is me, Jacky. We played a lot of games as
kids, but not twenty questions. That night at Caponelli’s, when I first saw you, all you could see was Sunni Blais. Struck by lightning is what it reminded me of. The next day in my office you tried too hard not to let your feelings show. Lucky noticed it, too. And then tonight Sunni confirmed my suspicions. That look she gave you…” Joey whistled. “That, friend, was one powerful look. If I’m wrong, say so, but ten to one, you two are past business and polite conversation.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Jackson reached for his beer and tipped his head back, draining half the bottle before he set it down.

“Okay, then just listen. I talked to Sunni’s doctor. She’s in good health. No kidney or heart problems. No vision problems, so far. No visible signs she’ll have long-term problems until she’s so old it won’t matter. Your old man, on the other hand, had one foot in the grave before you were born. He was half blind by the time he was Sunni’s age. He couldn’t hold down a job, or take a leak by himself. Remember? We used to get him up, each of us on either side of him and take him to the john.”

Jackson made no comment, he simply stared at beer bottle number three.

“I’ll say it again, Jacky. Sunni’s not sick, not like your old man was.”

Jackson lifted the bottle to his lips again. He wanted to get drunk. Needed to get drunk. He drained the beer, then flagged the waitress for a refill. “You sound like you’re trying to sell me a high-risk bad investment, Joe. I’m heading south as soon as this case is wrapped up, remember? Why should I care that the boss’s daughter has health problems?”

“Out of sight, out of mind?” Joey shook his head. “It don’t work that way, Jacky. Not if she’s gotten under your skin. And I say she’s burrowed clean through.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” Jackson studied Joe’s eyes. “Is that why you never got married when you were supposed
to? Did someone
get under your skin,
bro? Is that why you
called off the wedding to Sophia D’Lano? You never really said why.”

“Have you heard something I should know about?”

Jackson shook his head. “No. Just a hunch. This
mystery
woman must have been really something for you to chance all-out war with Vinnie D’Lano. What his daughter wants, his daughter gets.”

“I don’t love her, Jacky, but she fits into the family plans. Frank’s worried his sons aren’t going
to marry
and make baby sons for the organization. You know, the sons are the future.”

“So do you plan to marry Sophia D’Lano?”

Joey shrugged. “I’ve been stalling, that’s true. I can’t much longer.”

“I hear a
but
in there. Is there someone else?”

“No. Not any longer. But I have regrets, Jacky. Too little, too late, as they say. But if I had stood up to that saintly bastard and gone after what I wanted three years ago, I wouldn’t be sleeping alone right now.”

“Joe Masado sleeps alone? We can’t be talking about the same Joe Cool I used to know?”

“You haven’t looked at that runway once, friend.
That’s not the Jacky I used to know. That’s why I’m
telling you, that out of sight doesn’t mean out of
mind.”

Jackson scowled, not liking his words tossed back
in his face. “Okay, Joe. Bottom line. I care about Sunni, but knowing what I do now, I’ll probably run like hell when this case is over.”

“I think that’s the beer talking.”

“I never came back to Chicago planning on staying. This just makes it easier to accept the Louisiana heat.” Jackson took a long pull on his beer, then flagged the waitress once more.

“Got any new information on the case?”

“The Carpenter woman is dead. She was found this morning.” Jackson shook his head. “She didn’t nose-dive that car into the harbor by partying. We both know that, Joe.”

“So what’s next?”

“I need to force this guy out into the open. Make him make a move. The wrong move.”

“Got a plan?”

“Maybe. But to make it work, I’ll need to call in a favor.” Jackson leveled his friend
the look.

“What do you need, bro?” Joey grinned. “Just ask and I’ll see if I can deliver.”

Jackson settled back in his chair and rested his arm on the table. “What I need is someone crazy enough to do something illegal for me. Know anyone who qualifies?”

Joey’s grin spread.

Seconds later, Jackson cracked a smile. It was obvious that they both had the same
crazy
in mind. He asked, “Think he’ll do it?”

“If you ask nice.”

After Jackson had detailed the plan, he waited for Joe to comment.

“It’s risky.”

“I’ll tell him you said that. Tell him you tried to talk me out of asking. I’ll say you don’t think he’s up to it.”

Joey chuckled. “Getting him mad used to work when we were kids. He used to turn into a hailstorm on wheels.” That said, he raised his bottle. “To the old days, Jacky.”

Jackson raised his fifth bottle of beer. “And to the hailstorm on wheels.”

* * *

“Jackson, why on earth are you sitting in the dark?” Lavina Ward stood in the doorway of her kitchen after flicking on the light. “Did you tell me you were going to come over? I don’t remember you saying—”

“No. I didn’t say I was coming by, Ma. Sorry it’s so late.” Jackson shoved himself slowly
to his feet.
He’d been sitting in the window seat that overlooked the backyard. He had a headache from too much beer and breathing in too much smoke without tasting it.

“Business good tonight?”

“A full house,” Lavina offered. “Coffee?”

“Yeah, I could use some.”

“I agree. I can smell
you from
clean over here.” She got busy in the kitchen. “So why didn’t you tell me that Mac was a dog? I had to hear that from Crammer Ferguson at the supermarket. And he was downright smug about it once he saw I had no idea what he was talking about.”

“You still gonna cook him a six-course meal?”

“Was there a reason for not telling me your partner was a dog?”

“Maybe at first I was a little sour about the idea of having a four-legged partner. But not anymore. I guess you could say we’re a good match.” Jackson staggered into the kitchen to stand over his mother’s shoulder.

She looked back. “Need a lesson in brewing coffee or a shoulder to lean on? You’re about as pale as a wash rag. Not going to pass out, are you?”

“No.”

“Need an ashtray?”

“No, I quit.”

“You quit? Praise be! When did that happen?”

“A few days ago.”

“So you’re here to talk. Is that it?”

“I guess.”

“At the table, or out on the back step? The night air might do you some good. For sure it’ll make you smell better.”

“The table’s closer, and not so low to the ground. Once I get down I might not get up again.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned and headed for the table.

“So where’s your partner now?”

“Spending the night at the vet’s.”

“The vet’s?”

“He’s having gum surgery. Decided to eat a door.”

“A door? Are you serious?”

“It’s a fact.”

His mother finished pouring the water into the coffeemaker, then turned around and stared at him from across the counter. “Okay, let’s hear it. You don’t do stupid things, Jackson. So what’s this all about? Is something wrong with Joe or Lucky?”

He shook his head. “No. She’s got diabetes, Ma.” He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that. He’d come to talk about it, but he’d planned on easing into it.

“Who has diabetes, Jackson?”

“Sunni Blais.” He made a swipe through his hair, feeling sick all over again. He wished he had a cigarette. He’d definitely quit smoking too damn soon.

“Why don’t you explain?”

“That’s what I’m doing, Ma.”

“Back up and give me a little more information, son.”

His mother’s voice had softened. He nodded. “Okay, from the beginning.” By the time he had finished bringing his mother up to date on the case, she’d poured coffee twice into their cups.

“That poor girl. An insulin reaction, at the same time she was being attacked by some crazy killer. To survive all that she must be tougher than she looks.”

Jackson raised both eyebrows and scowled. “A week ago you were calling her dangerous, Ma. Now she’s a tough girl?”

“Maybe I spoke too hastily. She sounds like she’s someone I’d like to get to know. A lot of the diabetics I visit at the medical center are bitter. Some take my words of encouragement, but so many don’t and believe they’re either being punished, or that they’ll never live a normal life. Sunni sounds like she’s determined to rise above her illness.”

His mother still belonged to a support group for diabetics and their families. Jackson thought she should give it up, but she had told him that her experience was meant to be shared, and if she could help just one person by offering support, then it was worth it.

“Jackson, if you got drunk over this, what does that mean, exactly?”

He stood and began to pace while his mother watched him wear out her rugs. “It means I would have appreciated a little honesty from her. I’m out busting my ass to keep her safe and she… I can’t do my job if I don’t know the bottom line.”

“So it’s doing your job that’s got you angry?”

“Hell, yes, it’s the job. Keeping her alive is why I’m here, Ma.”

“What does her father say? I’m surprised he didn’t give you all of the facts before he sent you here. Did he tell you why he didn’t share that information with you?”

Jackson snorted, then stopped pacing. “Because he doesn’t know. She’s been keeping her little secret from everyone. Even her folks.”

“Oh, dear. When did you say she was diagnosed?”

“Two years ago.”

“Something must have happened.”

“What do you mean?”

Lavina sipped her coffee. “Usually if they hide their condition it could mean that they’re not able to accept the illness themselves, or someone else hasn’t been supportive. Acceptance can be just as hard for family and friends as it often is for the diabetic. You know that. You had an awful time at first. Blaming your father for being sick all the time.”

“Ma, just lay it right out there.”

“You were young. You didn’t understand.”

You don’t understand.

You have a disease. A disease that’ll most likely kill you. Sooner than you think.

He caught his mother studying him as
if she were going to pickle him and was deciding which end to start with. “Okay, let’s hear it. Why are you swimming in guilt? What did you say to that poor girl to make her feel worse and you run for the bar?”

His mother’s words knotted Jackson’s gut. “She should have told me.”

His mother’s brows pleated. “So you told her off, then went out drinking.” It wasn’t a question.

“I went out drinking because I felt like it, Ma.”

“You went out drinking ‘cause you feel guilty over something and you’re angry. Angry at yourself.”

His mother knew him too well. “She should have told me, dammit! Before I—”

“Before you what? You’ve known this woman a little over a week. Are you… Have you… Oh, dear.”

He walked to the window and stared out at the stars.

“You care about her, then? That’s what this is about?”

Jackson didn’t answer.

“You care, but you don’t want to care. Especially now that she’s going to require a little more work.”

“Dammit, Ma, sink the knife in a little deeper.”

“If you had no clue she was a diabetic, then she can’t
be all that sick. She owns a business. That requires a healthy mind and a body to go along with it. We’re both in agreement that she’s beautiful and intelligent. There are different types of diabetes, Jackson. Did you talk to her doctor?”

“She’s IDDM.”

“Okay, so she uses insulin. Thousands of people do. Correction, the smart people do. That’s good news. That means she’s taking care of herself.”

“Complications can crop up overnight, Ma. Dad—”

“Harold had major problems, Jackson. The day we met and fell in love, I knew our life together would be short. Actually, your father outlived the doctor’s time line.”

Jackson stared at the clubhouse, with its weathered slat board and chipped white paint. The clubhouse had been his escape as a boy, Joe and Lucky his salvation. His mother was right; as a kid he’d been bitter about his father being sick all the time. But then things had changed. His father had won him over with his steadfast faith and gentle heart. They had loved hard and fast in those last few years and not one minute of life had been wasted on anger or regret.

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