Authors: Lynne Connolly
He insisted on taking her back to his apartment afterward, refusing to take her to the Dakota. “But I have things there, things I want,” she said.
He kissed her, not caring that they were on Fifth Avenue in the middle of the day, right outside FAO Schwartz, where anyone could see them. When she laughingly protested, he pulled her close and kissed her again. She broke away. People were staring, tourists taking photos. But most of them were smiling, too. She wore her evening gown from the night before, and he had his jeans and polo shirt, creased but a lot more suitable for daytime wear.
Surprised, she discovered she didn’t care. As long as Jon was with her. He’d offered to drive her back, but the day was a fine one and she wanted to savor it. Even in high-heeled evening sandals. She’d never felt so alive, never so happy. She refused to think about the past or the future. Just the now. It was a strange feeling but one she wanted to remember forever. And hopefully, experience again. At his urging they turned down Fifth Avenue and strolled past Bergdorf’s. She glanced in the windows, thought about going in to buy some jeans or something so she could get out of her evening clothes.
They crossed the street, and he tugged on her hand. “Come in here.”
She glanced around. “Tiffany’s?”
The windows glittered with a select display of precious jewels, all exquisitely set. He wanted to buy her a keepsake? That was sweet. She wouldn’t deny him and perhaps she could buy him a pair of cuff links. They went in and he led her past the cases with matching sets, the pearls, the watches. And to a case that contained rings.
Lina caught her breath as he turned to face her, taking both her hands in his. “So are we going to do this properly? Will you marry me?”
Had the day turned hot? It felt as steamy as the first afternoon she’d seen him in the café in Naples. She stared up at him, her mouth dropping open. But she saw nothing in his eyes but clarity, truth and love. How could she resist that? She didn’t even try. “I’d love to.”
Heedless of anyone watching, he kissed her, long and sweet. The patter of applause startled her and she pulled away, to see his gentle smile. “So let’s do it.”
“Excuse me.” A woman in a smart suit, with the Tiffany logo on a pin on the lapel, approached them. “May we be the first to offer our congratulations?”
“Thank you.” She didn’t look away. She couldn’t. But he released one of her hands and turned to face the woman. “We appreciate it. We’d like to choose a ring, please.”
“We’d love to take your photo for our records. You aren’t the first man to propose to his lady here. We have quite a collection.”
“No thank you.” Jon was capable of taking the assistant apart, but Lina appreciated that he didn’t. She didn’t want anything to mar this moment. He turned away from the woman, back to the case of rings. “How do you feel about rubies?”
A delicious half hour later, Lina got into the cab Jon had called. She wore the most gorgeous ruby ring she’d ever seen. The stone was cut
au cabochon,
a dome of rich red, reflecting its surroundings and deepening the color. Diamonds surrounded it, each one containing myriad pinpoints of light, glittering in the sunlight when she walked out of the store with the ring on her finger.
After they’d chosen it, Jon slid it on her finger, watching her with that attentive look that always melted her. He could have taken her then and there, and the promise in his eyes told her he had every intention of doing so when they’d reached his apartment. She had every intention of helping him achieve his objective any way she could.
She went into his arms after he’d climbed in next to her. She held out her hand to examine her ring. They’d been lucky that nobody had alerted the press. At least, they didn’t think so. But when she said as much, Jon kissed her forehead. “I don’t care. I don’t care who knows or when.”
“But I’m wearing the gown I wore last night. The gown they photographed me in.”
“If you care, then I do, and I’ll do my best to get any pictures suppressed.”
She shook her head, her curls bouncing around her shoulders. “No. I guess it’s okay. I just have to get used to the publicity.” She laughed. “And there will be publicity. Will your mother mind?”
He hugged her close. “I don’t think so. Not too much, anyway. Let’s go home and celebrate. We’ll tell her later.”
“And my mother, too.”
“Yes. But you’re not going back to the Dakota alone ever again.”
Their time out of time was broken the minute they stepped into his apartment. The phone started ringing.
Jon held her hand and watched her as he answered. “Yeah?”
He listened. “Okay. Half an hour.” He replaced the receiver and gave Lina a long, slow smile. “We’ll shower and get you something to wear. You left some stuff here and I didn’t give it all back. Just as well.” He cocked a brow. “No underwear, though.”
“Half an hour?”
He sighed. “Yeah. Real life bites sometimes. I want to spend some time with you, just us, but we have a few things to sort out.” He paused. “I have a private investigator coming, the one I hired to look at the Farinas. Do you want in on this?”
Sure she did. So she showered on her own, because together they wouldn’t be out in time, and dressed in jeans and a shirt. And no underwear, as he’d said.
When she reappeared in the living room, he took her hand, the one with the ring, and led her to the sofa, where they sat together. The investigator had just arrived. To her disappointment he didn’t wear a grubby trench coat or a fedora. He was dressed in a smart navy suit, which skimmed his impressively broad shoulders. He wasn’t as tall as Jon, but he had a formidable air of strength that must help him in his job. And instead of the latest badass sidearm on the market, he carried a neat orange card folder, containing material she suspected would be far more devastating than a bullet and reach far more people.
After Jon got them coffee, they sat and Steve Kniveton brought them up to date. He spread out a series of papers and picked one up. He drew breath as if to begin a presentation to a board. Probably the way he was used to dealing with Jon, who was nothing if not thorough, she was learning.
Jon interrupted him. “Give us the bottom line first, please. Things have moved a bit faster and we may need to make some decisions fast.” He glanced at her and she nodded her permission. “Someone tried to drug Lina last night. We’re pretty sure it was Ritchie Farina.”
“From what I’ve discovered I’m not entirely surprised, but I’m sorry it came to that.” Steve gathered up his papers and shoved them in the folder before handing them to Jon. “Here’s the complete report. I have copies locked away downtown. I’d advise you to lock these up somewhere, too. The FBI is on its way, which is why I rushed over here.” He glanced at her hand. “Congratulations,” he said as an afterthought.
“Thanks.” Jon squeezed her hand and she shared a smile with him. Nothing could take the glow away from today.
Steve leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “The Farinas are in deep financial trouble. The base of their empire is newsstands and the sale of newspapers and magazines is way, way down. The younger Farina has some innovative ideas, but his father has always vetoed them.”
Jon’s brow went up. “I see.”
So did she. It explained a lot. Like the tension between father and son. If his father constantly shot down his ideas, Gary would get increasingly frustrated.
Steve continued. “Ritchie Farina has contacts, the kind that have brought the FBI on the case. I disturbed a few triggers when I started digging online and they came to see me earlier today. There’s no way I’m covering up or getting involved in hiding evidence. Rest assured I won’t give them anything they don’t ask for or that they aren’t entitled to have, and I’ll keep you informed. The CIA won’t be far behind, and I’d bet the farm that Homeland Security is interested.” He shrugged. “As I said, I must have set off some electronic triggers.”
When she tensed, Jon pulled her closer. She could guess where this was going, but she prayed to God she was wrong.
“I know you’ve heard of the Colleghi, the gang currently in charge of a lot of the stuff going on in Naples, Italy. Because Naples is a major port for illegal goods, more gets in than T-shirts and knockoff handbags. It’s a weak spot, somewhere terrorists can use to sneak into the country and to smuggle contraband. Fortunately for the governments, here and in Italy, the Colleghi run a business organization. They are not interested in disturbing the political scene. So they’ve effectively been helping to keep the scarier factions out.”
“And you found a link,” Jon suggested.
Steve shifted, leaning back. “Okay, yes I have. I’ve found the defaults in the Farina empire, the lack of cash funding. It has a ton of valuable property, albeit in small patches. All those kiosks are on long leases or bought outright. So the Farinas have assets, but no money. I found some doubtful purchases that were kept off the official Farina books, possible fake goods. Farina paid for those through a Liechtenstein bank account where the Colleghi also have an account. I can’t link the two directly, but it’s a hell of a coincidence.” He sighed and rubbed his head, his hair so close-cropped if it was any shorter he’d be bald. “It was when I queried the Liechtenstein account and set one of my computer hackers on the case that we got a visit from the FBI. It was an interesting conversation. They’re involved because the Farinas, or at least one of them, is in talks with the Colleghi. The Colleghi move knockoffs and drugs from the Far East into Europe. Now they want to add another link. But other, scarier organizations are on their tail. Where a rift is made, others will follow.”
“Shit. So you’re saying the Farinas are providing outlets for the Colleghi,” Jon said.
“Possibly. And by so doing, creating a rift that terrorists could use. If the Farinas get far enough in, they might be left with no choice.”
“Are the Farinas involved in the drugs?”
Kniveton glanced at Lina. “I’m not sure. But I’m guessing that’s where the CIA comes in.”
Another knock sounded on the door. With one glance back at Lina, Jon went to answer it.
Homeland Security had taken the detail. In the tier of dangers—drug peddling, drug smuggling and terrorist activity—the latter probably trumped the others. It didn’t mean the CIA wouldn’t be along in a little while. Along with the FBI, if the Farinas started selling drugs from the booths. The three agents introduced themselves and Steve brought them up-to-date while Jon sat next to Lina again, gripping her hand.
At Jon’s request, Steve Kniveton stayed, and they listened to the agents who had entered Jon’s apartment and stared around before taking seats on the sofa. They sat next to each other like ducks at a fair, ready to be shot down.
Basically their findings were the same as Steve’s and they’d come to a similar conclusion. “The Farinas are desperate for money,” said the woman. She was dressed in a skirt so sharply severe it looked like it might cut her if she moved too fast. “Their empire is crumbling, and they’re looking for quick cash. We think they might be setting up with the Colleghi for bringing consignments in.”
“Of what?” Jon demanded. They already knew, but they wanted confirmation.
“Drugs, most likely.” The woman, who had introduced herself as Anne Faraday, paused and glanced at one of her colleagues. “And maybe other things.”
Lina felt sick. It was true, then. “So where do I fit in?”
“You’re now a person of interest. You were in Naples with Mr. Brantley.”
They didn’t know she’d worked there, that Franco paid protection to the Colleghi? Probably best if it stayed that way. She didn’t know what they knew, and they wouldn’t trick her into volunteering extra information.
“I was with Jon, looking for his brother,” she said.
Franco and his family could have their work visas withdrawn if the agents found the link. She had to keep them out of this. She’d lie if she had to.
Jon must have been thinking along similar lines. “I went to Italy to meet Lina after our family received a tip about Byron. We’d been looking for him for years and then we got a picture of him.”
Neil Hayes, a bald but strongly built man who looked like he was bursting out of his tight-fitting navy suit addressed him. “Where d’you get the tip from? It came out of the blue, when you hadn’t heard for years. You’d assumed he was dead, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” He gripped her hand tighter, and glanced at Kniveton.
“I received the picture anonymously,” Kniveton said, after a glance at Jon, and Lina let out a tensed breath, careful to take it slowly. Kniveton must also have received the address of the café in the same parcel, but he didn’t volunteer that information.
“So why did Byron come to Naples?” She’d wondered that for a long time. She didn’t believe in coincidences.
Faraday shrugged. “They could have told him that you were alive and you wanted him. Or that you had money. That would have brought him. By then you have to know he was a wreck, living from fix to fix.”
This time she squeezed Jon’s hand. He turned his head to smile at her, but she saw the bleakness in his eyes. “I always had the dream that I could bring him home. Make things right.”
Lina couldn’t see the link. Why would Byron have anything to do with the Colleghi, apart from the fact that he’d probably bought his drugs from them?
“Yeah and someone played on that,” Hayes said.
“Who?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” His deep voice resonated in the suddenly silent room.
Lina felt as if a pint of iced water had poured down her back. It took her breath and it was a moment before she could manage to articulate. Suddenly everything became clear. “The Farinas. They wanted me dead so my mother could inherit. If I die before her, she gets my money. They found Byron so he could find me.” Then he’d died.
Lina tried to get her head together. She listened numbly as the agents confirmed her suspicions. The Farinas were involved. The recent losses in the company had led them to look for quick cash, and the obvious means had been Lina. So they set out to find her, and get rid of her. But Jon had found her first and brought her home. Then Gary had tried to seduce her. True, he’d backed off when his father went too far.