Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family Book 1) (15 page)

BOOK: Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family Book 1)
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Having dug my grave, I turned the Hummer toward Caesars Palace and a five-hundred-foot possible plummet to my death.

This was my idea? What the hell was I thinking?

Bones must have been having his own reservations, because he put a hand on my seat and said, “We can’t do this now, Angel.”

As my security guard, Bones was looking out for me. I made a mental note to make sure he got a raise. Clinging to his out, I said, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Why not?” Markie asked.

Bones grinned. “I’ve been trying to get Angel to do this for months and now he decides to go? In the middle of the day? Why? The experience is ten times better at night.”

So much for saving me. And so much for his damn raise.

“You’ve been on it?” I asked him.

He shrugged. “Yeah. Not like I was going to wait around to go with you.”

Going in the dark wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe the ground wouldn’t look so far away. I glanced at Markie and she smiled back at me. “Do you guys have a problem with waiting until dark?”

The sisters decided they could wait, so we found a garage, parked the Hummer, and went for a walk down the strip. My cell phone rang, so I excused myself to take the call. We had just made it to Caesars Palace and were standing beside the replica Trevi fountain. Markie and Ariana continued on to the fountain and sat on the ledge, turning sideways to take in the sights. Bones stayed beside me, but kept an eye on the girls.

“Hello?” I asked into my phone.

It was my cousin, Renzo. Renzo hadn’t called me in ages, not since he tripped and his nose fell up my father’s ass. Knowing it wouldn’t be a social call, I glanced around to make sure nobody was paying too close of attention. “Hey, what can I do for you?” I tried to keep my tone friendly.

“The boss said you might have a use for some merch I can’t move.”

If Father wanted me on it, it was tech. Wondering what the family had stumbled upon now, I asked, “Okay, what do you got?”

“You expect me to just tell you over the phone?” His tone dripped with condescension.

Two could play that game. “Yes. Do I need to remind you how my phones work? Again?”

“I don’t have a lot of faith in your gadgets,” he replied.

Now I was pissed. I turned away so the girls couldn’t see my expression. “Understandable. Most people fear what they can’t seem to understand. I hear you have trouble booting up your computer.”

There was a pause, and I could almost see Renzo taking deep breaths and trying to regain control. Finally, he replied, “Look, I don’t have all day. Do you want these things or not?”

“What the hell are they?”

Another deep breath. “Self-checkout stands.”

Of all the bizarre shit…

I slipped behind Bones, just in case there were lip-readers about. Then, to make sure I’d heard him correctly, I asked, “Self-checkout stands? Are you talking about the terminals? Or just the stands they sit on?”

He growled. “So sorry I don’t speak geek. The terminals. The things at the grocery store where you can scan your own—”

“I know what they are. I just can’t understand why you have them.” Of course he wouldn’t be able to move checkout stands. They were the most visible equipment in any store. Why someone had lifted them was beyond me.

“Yes or no?” he asked.

“Your team bump off the wrong truck?”

“Yes or no, Angel?” he growled.

“How many do you have?”

“Six.”

I wasn’t sure which components a terminal held, but I was fairly certain I could salvage something useful. “Sure. I’ll send a team over to pick them up. Which warehouse?”

Renzo gave me the location and then I called my team lead and sent him to round up the troops and go after the goods.

With business out of the way and finally a few minutes alone with Bones, I asked, “Flowers, Bones?”

“Hm? You offering? You know you’re my boy and all, but I just don’t swing that way.”

I shook my head at him and clarified. “You bought Ariana flowers?”

“Oh. Yeah.” He shrugged. “She’s a source. She’s connected to Matt and connected to this broad you seem so crazy about. It’s not personal, Angel, it’s business. You know how this works.”

I did know, but it seemed like there might be more to it than he was letting on.

The rest of our walk went off without a hitch, and once the sky darkened we got into the maze-like line for the High Roller. Markie stood beside me with Bones guarding my back and Ariana standing at his side. Bones was drilling the girl for information about Matt, but doing it in a way that kept her from telling him to get lost. Bones knew how to handle people.

I, on the other hand, did not. Striking up a conversation with Markie proved more difficult than I’d imagined.

“What?” Markie asked, dimpling at me.

If I had a little more game, I’d tell her how beautiful she was, or how happy she’d made me by agreeing to venture onto this death trap with me. Then she’d throw herself at me, and I’d actually be able to catch her. Unfortunately, I wasn’t that guy and I didn’t have much game. So my opening line went something like, “Tell me something about the enchanting Markie Davis.”

The line shuffled forward.

She dimpled again. “Enchanting, huh?”

I nodded. “Absolutely.”

Her smile widened. “What do you want to know about me?”

Uh-oh.
I needed a line. Something witty and charming. “Like… Hello, my name is Angel, and at midnight I turn into a wraith who eats small animals and haunts local opera houses.”

She giggled, so it must not have been too bad. “Good to know. Busy nightlife you’ve got there.”

I shrugged. “Hey, someone’s gotta terrorize dachshunds and frighten the fat lady.”

“Indeed.” She leaned against the metal railing and chewed on her lip, looking down at the floor. One lone curl dangled in front of her face. Before I realized what I was doing, I reached up and tucked the hair behind her ear. Markie looked at me and froze, her eyes wide.

“I’m sorry,” I said, dropping my hand to my side.

She blinked, and then blushed. “No, it’s okay. You just surprised me.” She smiled, but it seemed forced. “Okay, something about me… Well, I don’t transform into any mythological characters, and I’m not a big fan of opera. I do like to dance, though.”

The line lurched forward again, and we followed it out of the metal line-maze and into another room and another line. A wall-length screen showed ads for local businesses and coming attractions.

“To dance, huh?” I leaned closer, intrigued. “Tell me more. What style of dancing?”

“All of it. Ballroom, ballet, pop, hip-hop.” She looked away and her cheeks turned the slightest tint of pink. “Disco.”

“Disco?” I asked, forcing down a chuckle.

She shrugged, her blush deepening. “What? I like to get down. I like to boogie.”

I laughed. How could I not? She was adorable.

“All right, all right, that’s enough mocking me, mister. Your turn. Tell me something about you.”

I ducked my head and wiped the grin from my face. “I, too, like to boogie
and
I’m big into oldies, so top that.” I had no clue when my ploy to get to know her had morphed into a contest to see which of us was the most awkward, but judging by her smile, it was working. I decided to stick with it.

“I’m not very familiar with oldies. My family listened to a lot of country and I was kind of shielded from the wide world of great music. I didn’t discover my love for disco dancing until last night when the casino Ari works at had a disco dance competition.”

“You entered the competition?” I asked, impressed.

She nodded, her cheeks turning even redder.

I laughed. “Man, I’m sorry I missed that. How’d you do?”

“Not great. You’re probably lucky you missed it.”

I doubted that. I couldn’t see myself regretting a single moment spent with this girl. She was so sweet and real. For the first time ever, I was involved in a conversation not about people, fashion, makeup, or drama, and I loved every second.

“So now that you’re not digging wells or volunteering at orphanages, you’re dancing. Or is there something else you do with your time?”

“Actually, I’m still volunteering at orphanages. My application just cleared with one of the rescue missions. I start tomorrow.”

“Ah, so will you be staying in Vegas for a while?” I asked, hoping my question didn’t sound as desperate as I felt.

She shrugged and looked away. “As long as I can.”

Strange answer.
I filed it away to reevaluate later and changed my line of questioning. “What do you do at these orphanages?”

“Whatever they need me to do. In Africa I did a lot of administrative stuff like marketing and finding sponsors, but here I’ll probably do things like laundry, maybe help out in the kitchen, read to the little ones, shoot hoops with the bigger kids, stuff like that.”

Wanting to test her sense of humor, I decided to rib her a bit. “Oh, I see. You’re kind of short for basketball, so you play with the kids.”

She gasped in mock offense. “For your information, I made the southern Idaho all-star team my junior
and
senior years of high school.” She crossed her arms and tried to scowl at me. “I got hops.”

“Hops? You think you can jump on those short legs, huh? I’m more of a believe-it-when-I-see-it kind of guy.” Then seeing my golden opportunity I added, “So you’re gonna have to prove it. Give me your number and we’ll settle this on the court.”

Turns out I wasn’t above goading Markie into a basketball game to get her digits. Truthfully, I could get her number with a few clicks on my computer, but didn’t want to go down like a stalker.

“Nope. Sorry, but I don’t give out my number to strange men.”

You’d think a zing like that would make me back off, but it just made me like her more. This time it was my turn to gasp in mock outrage. “Strange? We shared pizza, I took your sister to the hospital, and we’ve spent most of the day together. We even risked food poisoning together, eating at that Cajun dive. In a few minutes, we could plummet to our death together. What’s a guy gotta do to prove he’s not a psycho killer these days?”

We followed the line out of the room and onto a loading platform. Twenty people in front of us were loaded into a big glass and metal pod. The door closed, and the pod rotated up, bringing another to rest in front of us. People were unloaded.

Markie tapped her chin thoughtfully. Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a business card, handing it to me. “Volunteer with me,” she replied.

“Huh?” I studied the card and then looked up at her. Of all the things I’d been asked to do in my life, this was a first.

“Volunteer with me,” she said again. “They don’t let psycho killers volunteer at orphanages. If they okay you, I’ll know you’re somewhat safe, at least.”

I chuckled and pocketed the card. “Why orphanages?”

Markie glanced at her sister then leaned closer to me and lowered her voice. “We lost our father when we were in middle school, and then Mom in high school.”

I ducked my head, feeling like an ass. “I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. “Me too. Sometimes life just sucks, you know? Family took us in, so we never had to live at an orphanage, but still, I get those kids. I understand how lonely and scary it can be. Besides, I really like hanging out with kids. They’re brutally honest and unintentionally funny, and they just want someone to care about them.”

Our small group moved forward again. An employee looked up at us and then smiled in recognition. “Mr. Angel!” He offered me his hand.

I shook it. “Fernando. Good to see you.”

Fernando’s family did lawn maintenance for Father’s estate. They were nice people, hard-working, and knew how to keep their mouths shut. If I had to run into someone I knew, I was glad it was Fernando.

“Pleasure is all mine.”

“These are my friends Markie and Ariana, and you know Bones, of course.”

He shook their hands as I explained he was a family friend.

“You are some lucky ladies to be out on the town with these two. Stand-up gentlemen you got here. Real nice guys.”

Markie smiled at him. “Good to know.”

Fernando wasn’t done, though. He inclined his head to me and said, “Mr. Angel, my parents got the floral arrangement you sent for my
abuela’s
funeral. Thank you. It meant much to us.”

Fernando’s grandmother was almost as precious as Nonna. And although I’d never admit it aloud, she could bake almost as good.

“I was sorry to hear about your loss.”

“Yes, she was a wonderful woman.” Fernando ushered us toward the pod. I tried to ignore the gaping hole on either side of the ramp and walked in. Once the pod was full, an announcer appeared on overhead screens and welcomed us onto the ride. Then he droned on about the city’s history as we began our ascent. Bones and Ariana headed for the bar while Markie and I pressed against the glass. She looked out, while I looked anywhere but down.

BOOK: Making Angel (Mariani Crime Family Book 1)
3.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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