Summer Kisses (189 page)

“You want to bring dogs out?”

“There’s lots of places in the woods for her to get herself lost where we can’t find her.”

“Okay. But what if she takes the road?”

“All the better for us if she does. The dogs will let us know. Right now, I’m gonna drive down the road—south first, she’ll likely head back to the city—and if I don’t see her, I’ll stop at every little store that might be open and insure their cooperation.”

Joey sighed. “Sounds risky; someone might know who she is, but I guess it’s the best you can do.”

“Anyone gives me trouble, I’ll just whack him.” Giovanni felt like murder considering all the trouble this was causing him.

“We don’t need a bunch of dead bodies to account for,” Joey warned.

“Then you better get here fast. And bring Carmine and Ralphie along with the dogs. More of us working, more likely we are to find her. And one of you needs to take Angie to a doctor. He’s likely got a concussion or something.”

“Okay, yeah, good idea. Give me a little time to get the dogs—I’ll have to bring the trainer, too, I don’t know how to work tracking dogs.”

“As long as he keeps his mouth shut.”

“You know it.”

Giovanni hung up and leaving Angie lying on the floor with a wet cloth over his head, the best he could do at the moment, Giovanni took off for the car.

~~~

With his warning hanging in the air, Sandro stood still in the dark night, watching through the glimmers of moonlight, the effect of his words as they fell on Dave.

Marisa’s gaze was riveted on Dave, while Dave’s eyes still locked with Sandro’s.

Then Dave nodded, relaxed his stance and asked, “So, what’s the plan?”

His easy acquiescence surprised Sandro, made him more wary. But Marisa seemed to think Dave was trustworthy. Her instincts were usually good, while Sandro admitted his own opinion of the FBI man was skewed by their long, personal, and contentious history.

Glancing sideways at Sandro, Marisa answered Dave’s question. “We’re stealing the money from my father’s overseas accounts. Which is most of it.”

Dave’s eyes widened and he turned to Sandro. “Whoa, that’s ballsy. You don’t like living much, do you, buddy?”

“Carlo loves his money more than revenge. To get it returned, he’ll give Nia back,” Sandro said with forced confidence, ignoring the sarcasm. The plan had to work—they had no other options. And if force of will alone could make it work, then Sandro would do it.

“You have access to the accounts?” Dave asked Marisa.

“Yes, I’m actually on the accounts, but I didn’t have the passwords. It’s a need-to-know system. I needed to know so I have them now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m on the account in case of an emergency, if I ever needed to access them, Roberto would give me the passwords. That only happened once when he was sick, and then he changed the passwords as soon as he got back to work.”

“So you now have the passwords how?” Dave asked.

“I copied the information on his hard drive. I accessed one of the accounts tonight. It works.”

“Mirror imaging software.”

Obviously, Dave knew the technique. Sandro had no concept that such a thing existed and was thankful Marisa was the computer whiz.

Marisa nodded. “I then started the process of creating new accounts to transfer the money.”

“So you’re going to transfer the money out of your father’s accounts and into another one in your name?”

At Marisa’s confirmation, Dave quickly zoomed in on the most obvious problems, and Sandro conceded the man was no dummy.

“What will your father think when he realizes the account is in your name?”

“We hope he’ll think Sandro forced me. It might not matter by then.”

“Possibly. But it takes time to transfer the money, what do you have planned to keep Roberto from noticing the money is moving?”

Marisa moved closer to Dave. “We have a few ideas, none very good. The best one is . . .” she paused and touched Dave’s chest, the starlight glittering off her diamond bracelet. “You.”

Sandro admired that Dave made no outward move when Marisa touched him, but he couldn’t hide the reaction in his eyes. He cared for Marisa. The better for them, Sandro thought.

“Me?”

Dave must have an idea of what they needed, but for whatever reason, he seemed intent on making Marisa spell out what they wanted.

“I’m hoping since my name is on the accounts at the same banks, the transfer won’t take but a few hours. But just in case . . . you can pick Roberto up for investigation, no?” She inched her hand up closer to his shoulder. “Keep him a few days without charging him?”

Sandro smiled when Dave placed his hand on top of hers to keep it still. No doubt Marisa’s fingers were quite distracting. And no doubt Dave was aware that Sandro was carefully watching the entire exchange.

Dave sighed. “Why do I feel like I’ve been set up?”

“What?” Marisa asked.

Sandro understood her surprise, she’d worked hard to convince him that they needed Dave’s help; there would have been no need to set Dave up without Sandro’s cooperation.

“Don’t be coy,” Dave told Marisa, moving away from her touch. “There’s no other way for you to change those accounts without me taking Roberto into custody.”

“Yes,” Sandro spoke up. “We could kill him, or take him prisoner.”

“Yeah, I can see you two taking Roberto out,” Dave said wryly, obviously not realizing the lengths Sandro would go to save his family.

“And you don’t have enough manpower to hold him prisoner,” Dave continued, pacing a short distance across the grass.

“I could poison him.” Marisa shrugged. “Maybe not enough to kill him but to put him in the hospital.”

Dave stopped suddenly. “You play with poison, Princess?”

“I have many hidden talents,” she admitted.

He cocked his head and studied her. “Somehow, I can see that. Still, it’s risky. Bottom line, basically there is no sure way without me. So you pretend you don’t want my help, make me beg and bam,” he paused to clap his hands together. “You have me.”

When put that way, Sandro conceded perhaps Marisa set them both up. She knew they couldn’t do it on their own. She was a very clever woman.

“Will you help?” Marisa asked, neither denying nor confirming Dave’s accusations.

Dave ignored Marisa and turned to Sandro. “You’re way out of your league here. What happens when you give him his money back? You think he won’t come after you then? Let me have the information on those accounts, and we’ll get him with RICO. The AUSA on our team is just chomping at the bit to bring a case against Carlo.”

“The . . . what?” Sandro asked.

“Assistant U.S. Attorney,” Dave clarified.

Sandro started shaking his head; Marisa interrupted.

“Who said we’re giving it back?” she asked.

“Sandro said to get it returned–”

“Your RICO laws are worthless,” Sandro interrupted, not wanting to get too detailed with their plans about the money. “It would take so long to prosecute him, he would have plenty of time to kill us.”

“So you agree, your idea is too dangerous.”

“Of course the idea is dangerous,” Sandro said abruptly, already irritated with Dave’s persistent doubts.

“Then what . . .” Dave paused, frowning, obviously confused how the exchange could be made and how Sandro planned to come out of it alive. Until at last his face lit with understanding. “You’re going to kill him first.”

The man’s instincts were good, Sandro allowed as he purposely held silent.

Dave turned to Marisa and demanded, “Am I right? Is he planning on killing Carlo?”

Marisa didn’t answer either.

Dave grew frustrated. “Stealing money or information I can see. But murder? I want Carlo as badly as you do, Sandro, but I can’t let you murder the man.”

Sandro’s temper snapped. He grabbed Dave’s shirt and jerked him close. There was no way Dave could want Carlo as badly as he did. “I don’t recall asking your permission,” he growled, bringing Dave’s face down close. “You’re the one who wanted to be here. If you want to help rescue Nia, then help. Otherwise keep quiet, or get out.” Sandro pushed Dave away, daring, hoping he would come back at him. Sandro ached with the urge to release the fury and fear boiling inside him.

Dave stared hard at Sandro, then ran his hand through his hair. He turned his gaze back to Marisa. “You’re going to let him kill your father? Help him even,” he spread his hands wide, “by getting the information to bait Carlo?”

Sandro saw the pain enter Marisa’s eyes, though there was no outward sign. He knew what she’d endured at the hands of her father, the years of being auctioned off, what Carlo did to her mother when she objected. Sandro hurt for Marisa, yet with quiet dignity she stood up to the censure.

“There are things you do not know,” she said quietly. “You are not in a position to judge.”

Finally, Dave seeming no closer to comprehending their reasoning, at last relented and turned back to Sandro. “I’ll do what I can. I’ll help with Roberto and with searching the properties. I draw the line at murder though.”

By agreeing to stay in and help, Sandro wondered if Dave realized he’d just committed to insuring Carlo’s death as he had accused Marisa of doing. But he seemed not to judge himself the same way. Or he refused to acknowledge Carlo would really be killed and hoped Sandro would still turn over the information. Whatever the reason, Sandro would take the help and let Dave worry about the morality of it all later.

“Just don’t get in my way,” Sandro warned, still not trusting Dave, but reluctantly admitting he needed him.

“I want you to rethink giving me that information. If you kill Carlo, and it’s not in self-defense, I’ll have to take you in.”

Yes, so that was Dave’s plan—to convince Sandro to turn over the information, not believing Sandro capable of murder.

“When my wife is safe, you do what you have to do,” Sandro told him. Let Dave think what he would, threaten what he could. Sandro would do what he had to do.

Dave looked at Marisa again, maybe sensing he hadn’t reached Sandro. “You understand that, don’t you? I’ll have to arrest him.”

“Sandro will do what he thinks is necessary to keep the woman he loves safe. To keep his family safe,” Marisa said firmly. “Would you do any less?”

It was Dave’s turn not to answer.

~~~

After Sandro left with the list of properties to search for Nia, Dave took Marisa’s arm. “Come on, Princess, time to get you tucked in. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

She jerked her arm away, but the anger stemmed more from where she had to go than at Dave’s take-charge attitude. “If you know so much about me, you should know I’m not going home.”

“What? You’re going to Luigi’s? Mr. Useful himself?”

“He
is
useful. The information I got from him saved Sandro’s life.” But the thought of going to Luigi was getting more distasteful, no matter how important.

Dave frowned. “True enough. But we don’t need him anymore.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If I don’t show up tonight, he might get suspicious. It could ruin all our plans.” Even though going to Luigi’s tonight was the last thing in the world she wanted to do.

“Why do you think he’d get suspic–”

He broke off as she started to walk away. If she didn’t make herself move, she’d never go.

“Hey, wait,” he said, following her. “Why do you think he’d get suspicious?”

She paused to outline the reasons. “Very simple. One,” she held up a finger, “I was there when he gave the order to go after Sandro. Two,” she raised a second finger, “Sandro disappears, and then three,” the third finger in the air, “If I were to disappear? Sounds pretty suspicious to me.” She took off again at a brisk pace. Chances were good that Luigi would be suspicious regardless. And even an idiot would know he was going to be in a bad mood. Not a good night before her, but still necessary.

The frown deepened on Dave’s face, but he kept up with her this time.

“You’re acting like a jealous lover, Dave.” The thought sent a little tingle of anticipation down her spine. For a moment she wished it were true.

He pulled her to a stop. Again. “As much as I might want to, I can’t get involved with you.”

Marisa froze as the past repeated. Paolo had once said those same words. And her reaction had been the same.
If only you knew
. That he did not know how warped she was, how her father had destroyed her innocence. It was a memory that never left her, never strayed far from consciousness. The fear, the pain, the humiliation and most of all the feeling of betrayal as her father sold her virginity to the highest bidder.

There was an old saying that Italian men valued their family above all else. Lies. At least for her father. Power and prestige was all he valued.

No, Paolo had not known the truth. With him she pretended a reality that didn’t exist. Yet it all ended badly.

And so while her arm pulsed where Dave’s fingers touched, and her body tightened in anticipation of what could be, she knew that she was broken. Unfixable. And dangerous. Especially for Dave. She wanted no more bad endings.

A car exploding. Another image that never left her mind.

She would do anything—anything—to erase that image. And since that wasn’t possible, she would do anything to bring her father to justice. For herself. For her mother. For Paolo.

With no more innocent lives lost.

Marisa hardened her voice and her resolve. Her plans would not fail. “You’re right, Dave. You can’t get involved with me.”

“I want to apologize . . . for earlier . . . for my loss of control. I was out of line then. You’re a witness, and I know better.”

She stared at him, surprised and relieved, she told herself, by his unexpected apology. “A witness for what?”

“If I can talk Sandro into turning over that information, we can build a good case against your father.”

“You really think you’re going to have a case?” She gave a short, abrupt laugh. “You don’t know Sandro very well then. He always gets what he goes after. The opportunity to build a court case has passed.”

Dave looked thoughtful, and instinctively Marisa knew without a doubt he had to be remembering how Sandro had gotten Nia instead of Dave. As Marisa expected though, he didn’t say a word about it.