Give Him the Slip (25 page)

"It's one of the reasons I love Brazos Bend," Maddie
said as he opened the passenger-side door for her. "Not every town is
lucky enough to have a Dairy Princess."

"Kathy Hudson is one of a kind."

This felt like a date. Not a first date. A second date. Second
dates had a sense of familiarity combined with a he's-still-a-stranger awareness.
Second dates meant a lot of small talk. Which was why Maddie asked, "So,
is Fratelli's food as good as I've heard it is?"

"It used to be. My mother loved the eggplant Parmesan. We'd
eat there at least twice a month."

"I've seen pictures of your mother at Branch's house. She was
a beautiful woman."

"Yes, she was. Beautiful, but stubborn as a two-headed mule.
She said she took after her great-grandmother Jenny McBride, who was one of the
first businesswomen in Fort Worth. Mom's idea of volunteer work went far beyond
garden clubs and Junior League. She was a nurse and she took a personal
interest in health care for low-income children. My brothers and I spent many a
Saturday in rural health clinics handing out toys to bawling kids after Mom
gave them immunization shots."

"She sounds like a special woman."

"She was. Mom loved her family, her 'kids,' as she called
them at the clinics, her roses, and old Frank Fratelli's eggplant
Parmesan."

After a moment's pause, his expression went grim and he added,
"I haven't had a meal there since she died."

With that, the date atmosphere evaporated, and Maddie was reminded
just why they were going to dinner there to begin with.

"You said the Fratellis' son was your bookie?"

"Yeah. I don't recall now how my brothers and I learned that
Frank Fratelli's son, Marco, made book, but we liked to take advantage of the
service. A lot of Callahan money flowed through his hands in those days."

"I don't think we have many Italian families in town. I
wonder how they came to settle here."

"That I do remember. We were sophomores in high school when
Mark asked Marco how a New Jersey family ended up in Brazos Bend, Texas. I'll
never forget how he gave this nonchalant shrug and said it was a war within the
family. His father had disagreed with someone who took exception to it, and
since Frank had moved to the middle of nowhere, they thought he wasn't a threat
to anyone any longer, so Frank was safe. His family was safe. It was my first
clue that for the Fratellis, there was both the 'family business' and the
bistro in Brazos Bend."

"Yikes." Maddie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She
knew that both she and Luke wondered how much the two businesses intertwined
these days. Her life might just be riding on the answer.

Luke had told her he'd debated long and hard as to how best to
approach Marco Fratelli about her situation. He considered a dozen different
possibilities, everything from siccing the feds on the family to forking over a
good-faith percentage of the losses from his own pocket. He'd decided that the
feds had bigger fish to fry than the Brazos Bend chapter of Godfathers-R-Us,
and while he had the money to burn, paying for drugs in any way, shape, or form
went against his principles.

Maddie hadn't known whether to be horrified or flattered that he'd
even consider it. None of her other boyfriends would have ever thought about
it. And she hadn't even slept with Luke.

Yet.

"Tell me again why you think a direct confrontation is
best?" she asked.

In front of them, a traffic light turned red and Luke braked the
Maserati to a stop. "Now, I never used the word 'confrontation,' and I'm
not committing to any course of action until after I witness Marco's reaction
upon meeting you. That'll tell us a lot, Maddie."

"Yeah." She slumped back in her seat and folded her arms
over her chest. "Like whether or not I'll be 'swimming with the fishes' in
Possum Kingdom Lake anytime soon."

"Swimming with the fishes?" Luke snorted. "I
thought only males quoted
The Godfather.
It's like the ultimate guy
flick."

"Exactly. My most recent ex watched the
Godfather
movies
every chance he got. I couldn't help but pick up a little bit of the
lingo."

Luke sneered at the mention of Cade, then said, "Don't expect
to find Don Corleone at Fratelli's. The last time I saw Marco he was wearing a
rodeo championship belt buckle."

"Cowboys can be dangerous."

"That's true," Luke said as he pulled into the parking
lot. He parked, cut off his engine, then reached over and squeezed her hand.
"Red, you know I won't let anything happen to you."

She gave him a little sickly smile. "I've never done business
with a mobster before."

He snorted. "Sure you have. I'll give you two words to prove
it. Branch Callahan. In his own special way, Branch Callahan is the godfather
of Brazos Bend."

He had a point. Sighing, Maddie climbed out of the car and sucked
in a nerve-steadying breath. Then Luke opened his mouth and got her flustered
all over again.

"So, you wearing my underwear under that itty-bitty
dress?"

That fast, her knees went to water, but she fought to keep her
composure. "Um... boxer shorts aren't exactly the right foundation for a
dress like this."

He laughed. "Honey, your body is all the foundation a dress
like that needs. So, which color did you choose? The blue? The green? Maybe the
turquoise?"

She'd chosen the red because the shade he'd picked for her was
surprisingly complementary to her coloring. She wasn't about to tell him that,
though.

"You'll have to discover that on your own, Callahan."

He pulled her against him, captured her mouth in a hungry kiss
that turned her mind to mush. When he drew away, his finger played her
neckline, sending shivers racing across her skin. His voice was low and
intimate as he said, "Ah, the Chianti. How appropriate."

"You looked down my dress!"

"Yeah." His smile was smug. "I did."

With that, he slid his hand around to the small of her back and
escorted her into the restaurant.

The mouth-watering aroma of garlic and tomatoes and fresh basil
hit Maddie the moment she walked inside. A teenager greeted them, asked their
seating preference, then escorted them to the private table Luke had reserved.

Maddie glanced around the restaurant but didn't see any obvious
godfather types. She spied a couple lotharios waiting tables and behind the
bar, but neither of them was old enough to be Marco Fratelli.

Luke ordered a bottle of Chianti and they both chose the daily
special. He told her about Knucklehead's latest neighborhood escapade while
they waited for dinner—or the owner—to arrive. "Maybe you should enroll
him in obedience school," she said when he finished his story.
"Knucklehead has to learn he can't jump on people. You're lucky Mrs.
McKendrick didn't end up in the hospital after he knocked her down."

"I know. Although I doubt obedience school would solve the
problem. He's terminally friendly. The dog needs a brain transplant."

She rolled her eyes and the waitress arrived with their salads, at
which point Luke asked, "Is Marco here tonight?"

Maddie gulped her wine as the young woman nodded. "Mr. Marco
is in his office."

Luke slipped something from his pocket and handed it to her with a
wink and a smile. "Would you see that he gets this, please?"

Once the girl was gone, Maddie leaned forward and whispered,
"What was that?"

"I put five dollars down for the Rangers to win the
Series."

Maddie just shook her head. "No wonder you said you'd sent a
lot of money his way if you've always made stupid bets like that."

Luke sipped his wine and winked at her.

He appeared awfully relaxed, and it annoyed her, considering that
she was a nervous wreck on two fronts, the whole tomorrow thing with Luke and
the would-she-live-to-see- tomorrow situation regarding the Italian mafia,
Texas style. She was seriously considering sticking out her tongue, when a
voice boomed out in a thick Texas drawl, "Sin Callahan, you old
reprobate."

"Hello, Marco."

Maddie blinked. He certainly looked Italian—tall, with thick black
hair, olive skin, and dark eyes. He dressed Italian. She had no trouble
identifying an Armani suit. But when he opened his mouth, he was rural Texas to
a tee.

For some reason, that made her even more nervous than she'd have
been if he'd spat out a mouthful of Jersey thug talk. She drained her
wineglass.

The mobster refilled it. "I heard you'd rumbled back into
town. Driving a nice car. Flashing some green around town. I wondered if I'd
see you."

"I had to show my faith in my team."

Marco chuckled as he patted his jacket pocket, where Maddie
supposed he'd stored Luke's bet. "You always were a dreamer,
Callahan."

"Yes, well, sometimes dreams just come true. Speaking of
which, Marco Fratelli, I'd like you to meet my date." He paused almost
imperceptibly before adding, "Maddie Kincaid."

Marco Fratelli's smile was the picture of delight. "Ms.
Kincaid of Home for Now. It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard wonderful
things about you and your business."

"Uh, you have?"

Oh, God. Would she have to pay protection now?

"My wife's sister's husband's grandmother's best friend is
Lilly Taylor."

"Lilly Taylor was one of my first clients," Maddie
replied.

"Lilly loves you. My in-laws aren't to the point where they
need help yet, but they're already planning on giving you a call when they
do."

Maddie's smile flickered to life. This did not sound like a man
who was fixing to put a hit out on her.

Although come to mink of it, did she really want to work for the
mob? Would they allow her to say no?

Maddie took a sip... okay, another gulp... of her wine, then
pasted on a smile. "That would be lovely."

She shot Luke a glare, looking for help. He studied her a moment,
then said, "It's nice to hear that you have such a high opinion of Maddie.
Rumors going around town suggested you might feel otherwise."

"Rumors?" Marco's brows arched. "Ah. Rumors."
He studied Maddie with a narrowed gaze, then called out to a waitress.
"Linnie, add an appetizer to this table's order on the house. Bring Ms.
Kincaid here our grilled portobellos."

Maddie blanched, and Marco Fratelli let out a guffaw. "I'm
teasing, my dear. Just teasing. Better to do that than berate my guests for
believing me capable of such unpleasantness."

Luke swirled the Chianti in his wineglass. "I'm not all that
interested in what you did or didn't do, Marco. I just need to know that Maddie
is safe."

"Because she destroyed six million dollars' worth of the
family's assets?"

"Oh, God," Maddie murmured, dropping her chin to her
chest. When Marco laughed again, Maddie muttered in her mind,
Jolly fellow
for a criminal.

"Jerry Grevas and I had no business together, Luke,"
Marco said. "This is not my battle."

"He owed a gambling debt."

"A substantial one, so I'm told. But he didn't owe it to me.
Not all Brazos Bend citizens are as loyal to their bookmaker as you were. He
incurred his debt by other means. Besides, all I do is nickel-and-dime stuff
anymore. My wife frowns on anything more."

Luke set down his wineglass. "I heard you married Terri
Ruckerman."

"I did. We have three fine children. The two oldest are in
school and play baseball in the Brazos Youth Organization. I expend my energies
in that direction these days."

At that point, the waitress arrived with their appetizers and the
two men spent some time catching up. When Fratelli asked what he did for a
living, Luke used the story he'd been giving all around town about his dot-com
fortune and vagabond feet. Over a second bottle of Chianti, they heard all
about seven-year-old Joseph Fratelli's fastball and the baby's problems
teething and Marco's parents' retirement to Sarasota, Florida. While the men
appeared to relax the longer the conversation lasted, Maddie reacted
differently. By the time Luke brought the conversation back to the matter at
hand, she was strung as tight as a six-string. "Who would you suggest I
speak with regarding Maddie's safety?"

"No one." Marco leveled a serious look at Luke.
"Something like this is better left alone."

Luke lifted his wineglass and swirled the ruby liquid as he
clicked his tongue in regret. "See, that's a problem. I can't in good
conscience leave anything alone until I know they're going to leave her alone.
This wasn't a double cross, Marco. It wasn't a theft or a swindle or a
betrayal. She's an innocent party in this."

Maddie tried to look innocent as she stabbed a bit of portobello
with her fork. She'd lost her appetite for mushrooms, but she thought she'd
best be gracious under the circumstances.

Marco drummed his fingers on the table for a long minute. Dinner
arrived, offering even more delay. Maddie forced herself to take a bite of her
meal, and despite its delicious taste, her stomach rolled with nausea. Stress
was the best diet aid ever.