Give Him the Slip (26 page)

Finally, Marco Fratelli stopped drumming. "I haven't
mentioned that I opened a second restaurant in Fort Worth. It's on a restaurant
row on the west side. Next to my bistro, a family by the name of Murphy opened
an Irish pub."

Maddie knew she'd had more than her fair share of wine when she
had trouble negotiating the abrupt turn the conversation had taken. An Irish
pub? The Murphy family? What does that have to do with the price of garlic in
Tuscany?

If he says they have a son named Liam, I'm going to totally lose
it.

"The Murphys are an interesting family," Marco
continued. "A large family. Parents are very old school. Big on tradition.
The father wants to pass his business down to his children. The problem is that
one of his sons doesn't want to run an Irish pub. When someone asks him who he
is, he doesn't say, 'I'm a Murphy' or, 'I'm an Irishman.' He says, 'I'm a
Texan.' He's independent to the bone. Yet, he loves his family. Loves his
father, his uncles. He doesn't want to alienate them."

And this has what to do with me and my mushrooms?

"Sounds like the Murphys and the Fratellis have a lot in
common," Luke observed.

Ah-hah! The light finally burned through the stress and alcohol
clouding Maddie's brain. A metaphor. The Murphys were Fratellis and the pub was
the "family business" of vice, graft, drugs, and various other mob
concerns.

All right. Now the story made sense. Though Luke and Marco were
old friends, the restaurateur wouldn't want to admit too much. For all he knew,
Luke could be a cop. Which he was. Or used to be. Maddie took another big sip
of her wine.

"Over time, Murphy and his family reached a compromise,"
Marco continued. "He tends bar twice a month just to keep his hand in the
business, but he does nothing more than serve drinks. He doesn't inventory the
stock or mess with the menu or deal with vendors, because doing so would step
on the toes of the siblings who are involved with the pub on a daily
basis."

He paused, glanced at Maddie, and asked, "How is your penne
con pomodoro, my dear?"

"Good. It's good." Though the taste didn't blend all
that well with the coppery flavor of fear.

Luke took another roll from the bread basket. "So, this
Murphy fella. He doesn't have a clue what's going on back in the kitchen?"

Maddie translated that question to be asking whether or not Marco
knew what the family might have in store for Maddie.

"He's what you might call vaguely aware. He's careful not to
get too curious, because a business like that, well, it can draw a man in. It
can seduce him. He likes his life the way it is, and he doesn't want to risk
it."

For crying out loud. He's afraid of being seduced to the dark
side? What was it about men? Had they no strength of will at all? With that,
aided by nervousness and too much wine, Maddie's patience slipped. She set down
her fork and snarled, "He can look at the daily special chalkboard,
though, can't he? Surely he can tell if"—she flicked a long auburn curl
over her shoulder—"red snapper is on the menu."

Luke winced. Marco furrowed his brow and asked, "Red snapper
in an Irish pub?"

"Served up with magic mushrooms, no doubt." Maddie
swiped her napkin across her mouth. "Let's quit dancing around the red
sauce, shall we? Mr. Fratelli, are your relatives going to come gunning for my
hide?"

For just a moment, shocked silence reigned. Then Marco Fratelli
threw back his head and let loose with a long, loud laugh. He wiped tears from
his eyes before turning to Luke and saying, "You have your hands full with
this one, Callahan."

"You're right about that."

Maddie sniffed.
As if he'll get his hands anywhere near me now.

Fratelli patted Maddie's shoulder. It was all she could do not to
turn her head and nip him. "Murphy doesn't need to check the chalkboard,
my dear. He knows the vendors who service the restaurant. He knows the family's
menu philosophy. Rest assured, Maddie. Murphy knows his family would never
count red snapper as pub grub."

Maddie's heart caught. Hope joined the doubt and fear swirling
within her. Would she be a fool to believe this?

"Any chance he could confirm that?" Luke asked, casually
dipping a hunk of his bread in olive oil.

"It's not necessary."

Luke jerked his head toward Maddie. "She'll sleep better. The
better she sleeps, the more energy she has when she's awake. I like her
energetic."

"I can see where you would." Marco sighed with gusto,
then said, "All right. I'll see what I can do. Besides, I owe you one for
the win over Cedar Dell High. I still get preferential treatment at the barber
shop because of catching that touchdown pass to win the district
championship."

"Hey, you don't owe me for that. I just threw the ball."
When Marco walked away, Luke explained, "The boy had Vaseline hands. He
was forever dropping passes. Somehow, though, I knew he'd catch that one."

"Forget football," Maddie began.

"Forget football! What kind of Texan are you?"

"Is he saying what I think he's saying?"

"That it's conceivable that Grevas was killed by the hood he
owed money to, but Marcos doesn't know for sure? That he's not about to ask?
That he does know the family well enough to be certain they won't hold your
actions against you?"

"Yes. Can I believe him, Luke? Am I safe?"

Luke didn't answer because Marco returned and asked them to join
him in his office. "My father wants to speak to you, Luke."

Maddie caught her breath. Was this good news or bad news?

They followed Marco through the kitchen to a well-appointed office
at the back of the restaurant. Luke held the receiver to his ear. "Mr.
Fratelli? Yes, this is Sin Callahan."

After that, it was ten long minutes of old home days as Luke
caught up the elder Fratelli on the affairs of friends, family, and
acquaintances of times gone by. Then Luke said her name and Maddie's ears
perked up, but all she heard were a series of yes sirs, no sirs, and interminable
silences while the other man spoke. Maddie couldn't tell a thing by Luke's
expression. It was all she could do not to rip the phone from his hand and talk
to Frank Fratelli herself.

"Yes, sir, she threw them away."

The mushrooms. Oh, God. They
were
mob mushrooms. A soft but
wild giggle escaped her. A new variety—shiitake, portobello, chanterelle, and
now, mob.

The wine in her stomach did a roll.

"Yes, sir," Luke continued. "I will. Yes, sir, she
is. Yes. Yes." Then Luke broke out in a slow, sexy grin and finally made
eye contact with her. "I sure as hell hope so."

Okay. It's okay. Everything will be okay. He wouldn't be smiling
otherwise.

"Thank you, sir. I will. Good-bye." To Marco, Luke said,
"Your father asked that I remind you about your great-aunt's upcoming
birthday."

Marco slapped his forehead with his palm.

"And...?" Maddie demanded.

Luke's grin turned sly. "Mr. Fratelli also said that Marco
explained how beautiful you are." He took Maddie's hand and pulled her to
her feet. Then he bent her backward over his arms and captured her mouth in a
long, lusty, theatrical kiss that had Marco Fratelli snickering.

Luke released her mouth and steadied her on her feet. "That's
from Mr. Frank. He said to tell you that next time he visited Brazos Bend, he'd
claim a kiss personally."

She blinked in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Because you don't know my father," Marco said.

"He'll take payment for the mushrooms in kisses?"

Marco barreled out a laugh. "Heavens no. My father enjoys
kissing beautiful women."

Again Maddie blinked. "Your mother must just love that."

"Oh, she's accustomed to it. You see, my father thinks every
woman is beautiful. Old, young, fat, thin, it doesn't matter to Pop. Plus, he's
very old-fashioned. He'd never betray my mother. He'd never harm a woman in any
way." Marco paused, then added, "He'd never transfer one person's
debt to another's account."

"He wouldn't?"

"No, he wouldn't."

Luke spoke up. "Something else, Maddie. Something important.
Mr. Frank told me Jerry Grevas had no outstanding debts in the Shreveport
casinos. Apparently, he paid what he owed months ago."

Shock had her reaching for an office chair's back for support.
"He did? How?"

While Luke shrugged, Marco propped a hip on the corner of his
desk. "Who knows? The family wouldn't care where he got the money as long
as he paid his due."

Maddie slowly absorbed the information, and a joyous sense of
relief washed through her. She faced Marco Fratelli and confirmed, "So I
didn't throw away mob mushrooms? I'm safe?"

"Please. A different term." Then the restaurateur pursed
his lips. "As far as your safety is concerned, judging by the look in Sin
Callahan's eyes, I'd say the answer to that question depends on your definition
of danger."

Maddie gazed at Luke, drank in the sight of him, savored the taste
of him in her mouth, the scent of him clinging to her skin. Her head buzzed
from wine and delight and Luke Callahan's kiss. "I'm not worried, Mr.
Fratelli."

She made a slow circle of her lips with her tongue. "That
kind of danger, I can do."

She was back.

That siren who'd seduced him at the pool. That temptress who'd
taunted him on the
Miss Behavin' II.
The woman who'd made him want her
with every fiber of his being.

Maddie Kincaid was a live wire as they exited Fratelli's, high on a
little Chianti and a whole lot of relief. Her smile lit the dusky evening sky.
Her laughter floated on the gentle breeze like a song. She bubbled and bounced
and beamed like a hundred-watt torch on an inky night.

She obviously hadn't thought of the downside of the news they'd
just received. If the mob hadn't killed Jerry Grevas, who had? And why?

And would they be after Maddie?

Luke was back to square one with his investigation, but when she
grabbed his hand in the big fat middle of the parking lot and yanked him into
her arms and kissed him—long and lustily and lavishly—he couldn't find it
within him to care. Not at that moment. Not when he thought his eyes might
remain permanently crossed.

Twenty minutes. It'd take twenty interminable minutes to reach the
Victorian bed-and-breakfast owned and operated by Sara-Beth's cousin Annie.
Earlier that day, stirred up by Maddie's swim and hoping that dinner at
Fratelli's would put an end to the worry about her safety, Luke had decided a
celebration was in order. He'd rented the entire B and B for the night. The
situation hadn't quite turned out like he'd hoped; he still had cause to worry.
But what the hell. He could take one night off from bar crawling.

The time had come to do his crawling across Maddie's luscious body.

He'd take tonight. He'd put killers and mysterious money sources
out of his mind for twelve short hours. Okay, maybe fifteen. Eighteen, but no
more. Then, back to work.

He'd filed away the comment Maddie had made back on the houseboat
about never having been romanced, and this morning, after her little pool
performance, he'd decided that romance would be the perfect payback. The woman
wanted romance? Well, she was fixing to get it. Lots of it. More romance than
he'd ever given a woman before.

When she ran her hand down his torso, then copped a quick feel
below his belt, he mentally added,
Unless she gives me a heart attack before
we get there.

"Come on, big boy," she teased. "Get in the car and
take me... somewhere private."

"You're a menace," he grumbled, taking off his suit coat
and tossing it in the trunk.

"True." She settled back into the sports car's leather
seat and dropped her head back, her face lifted toward the sky, exposing her
long, graceful neck.

Luke wanted to bite it.

"Just call me Dracula," he muttered beneath his breath
as he yanked his necktie loose.

"I'm so relieved!" Maddie said, closing her eyes and
smiling. "I feel like I've been wearing a full-length coat made of lead
and I've just thrown it off." She waited a beat or two, then gave him a
sidelong look as she added, "And I'm naked beneath it."

"Good Lord." Luke gunned the engine and spun his tires
as he fishtailed out of the strip center's parking lot. "Look, Madeline,
we have a twenty-minute drive to get where we're going, so you need to just
bring it down a notch."

"Madeline? You've never called me Madeline before."

"I've never been this serious before."

The blasted woman laughed. Laughed!

Then she started to tease him. She shifted sideways in her seat so
that she faced him. She kicked off one shoe and folded her leg up under her.
Her dress rode up on her thigh.

Luke's smile went grim and he promised himself he'd keep his eyes
on the road as he pressed the gas pedal harder.