Blind Faith (24 page)
"He'll be here soon. And he's not my beau."
"It's not what I hear from your mother." He leaned forward and lowered his voice.
"Everything okay, princess?
You haven't gotten any more threats, have you?"
"No. And thanks for coming to the rescue. Uncle Gino. I feel so much better knowing you're here."
I'm
gonna
take good care of her."
Connie looked up from a tray of ravioli. "What are you two whispering about over there?"
"I'm just telling your daughter she's beautiful, like her mother."
"Enough with the compliments already.
Get your rear over here and check your stuffed peppers. I think they're done."
Kelly left them to their banter and walked back into the dining room to wait for Nick.
Twenty-Nine.
Nick arrived just as Connie was bringing out a tray of
bruschetta
, crusty slices of toasted bread topped with chopped tomatoes, melted mozzarella, basil and a drizzle of olive oil.
"These are for you," he said, handing Connie a bouquet of yellow roses and a box of
Godiva
chocolates. "And don't tell me I shouldn't have, because I never know what to say when a beautiful woman tells me that."
Connie gave Nick's arm a playful tap.
"Oh, you."
She brought the fragrant flowers to her face. "Thank you. Nick. I love yellow roses."
"Kelly told me."
She waved her hand toward a booth that was already set with candlelight, a tiny pot of African violets and a bottle of
sangiovese
. "Sit down, please. You, too, honey. Have some
bruschetta
. And don't bother looking at the menu. Nick. Gino insisted on preparing something special, just for you." She leaned over the table. "Just don't tell the customers, okay?"
"My lips are sealed, Connie."
They sat down and Nick's eyes skimmed over Kelly's face, her hair and the revealing neckline as he poured the wine. "You look lovely."
"Thank you." Mentally she substituted the word obvious for lovely and felt herself blushing. She should have stayed with the blue dress.
The kitchen doors swung open again and Gino walked out, a big grin on his face. The two men hit it off right away, talking about everything from the art of making wine to the Philadelphia Eagles, which Gino still cheered for even though he now lived in 49ers territory.
"Your uncle is quite a guy," Nick said after Gino left.
"He's wonderful. Next to my dad, he's the sweetest, most generous, most loving man I've ever known. You see that piano over there?" Nick nodded.
"I took lessons when I was little, but I hated it, and played only to make my mother happy."
"I didn't know you were musically inclined."
"I wasn't, but Uncle Gino refused to let me give up. He would sit with me sometimes and start playing the tunes I loved rather than the pieces I was supposed to practice. Soon I was playing right along with him, and loving it."
"He plays the piano, makes wine, cooks,
serves
." He watched Gino pass by, four huge bowls of pasta balanced on his arms. "Is there anything he doesn't do?"
"You forgot singing."
"No kidding. He and my Uncle Stefano used to sing at weddings and communions when they were teenagers. South Philly loved them."
"Somewhere in
He's a ringmaster for a traveling circus. Before that he was a trapeze artist and a sword
swallower
."
Nick laughed. "You have a very unusual family."
"You should see when they all get together. It's a real circus."
She was glad she could make him laugh and forget his troubles, if only for a few hours. He hadn't said anything about his suspension, or how he planned to catch Enrique now that he no longer had a badge, but she knew the matter was on his mind. A two-week suspension wasn't something a cop took lightly.
"Hey, Gino!" a customer called out as her uncle came out of the kitchen again.
"How about a song?"
"Aw, come on, Gino." One of the restaurant's regulars clapped his hands.
"It's Saturday night. At those prices you charge, customers are entitled to a little entertainment."
Connie appeared through the swinging doors, smiling as usual. "What's
all the
racket about?" she asked. "Gino screw up the orders again?"
In the same theatrical manner Kelly remembered from her childhood, Gino raised his hands up in the air and waved them above his head. "Okay, okay, one song. No more." He waited for the cheering to stop before adding, "But only if my lovely sister-in law will accompany me on the piano."
Connie bowed, then, making a big production of stretching and flexing her fingers, she sat down in front of the old piano and started hitting a few keys. Gino waited, mike in hand, and winked at her.
"They're up to something," Kelly murmured more to herself than to Nick.
She was right. As Connie's fingers moved lightly over the keys, Gino turned to the booth where Kelly and Nick sat. "This song is dedicated to that cute couple over there--my beautiful niece, Kelly, and her handsome date. Nick. Hit it, Connie."
As her mother started playing the old neighborhood favorite "That's Amore," Gino's rich voice filled the dining room, waving at the crowd to join in with the famous refrain.
Kelly picked up another
bruschetta
. "I'll kill him. I'll kill them both."
"Can't you see? They planned this.
Both of them."
She saw him chuckle.
"And you're enjoying it, playing right into their hands."
"What can I tell you? I'm a romantic."
When the song ended, the crowd rose to its feet, clapping and whistling and demanding an encore.
Gino walked from table to table, accepting compliments, shaking hands, laughing with old friends.
A few minutes later, he stopped at their table. "Did you like that, children?" He beamed at them.
"Yeah, Uncle Gino."
Kelly rolled her eyes.
"Real subtle."
"Don't blame me. Your mother put me up to it."
"Bad-mouthing me again, Gino?" Connie gave him a shove with her hip and put two salads in front of Nick and Kelly.
"You can't trust anyone anymore, not even family."
She tugged Gino's sleeve. "Come on, leave those two alone. I need you in the kitchen."
Gino threw his hands up again and followed her. "How does she manage without me the rest of the year?"
As they ate, drank and talked, Kelly found herself relaxing and opening up to Nick in ways she had never opened to anyone before. He was easy to talk to and, almost without warning, she found herself telling him about her two failed relationships.
"What kind of men were they?" Nick asked.
"Oh, God."
She laughed, feeling suddenly self conscious. "Let's see, first there was Johnny, a South Philly boy my mother introduced me to."
"Me. Everything was wrong with me--at least as far as Johnny was concerned. I was too tall, too independent and too strong-willed. And he didn't like my job either. He thought investigative reporting was a man's job. Oh, and I was living in
"Charm.
He oozed it. Whenever I was mad at him, he would serenade me outside my window and make all my girlfriends jealous."
"Hmm.
Does that mean I should start taking singing lessons?"
"Don't you
dare.
"
"What happened to your troubadour?"
"I couldn't take the criticism anymore, so I broke off the engagement."
Nick sipped his wine. "And number two?"
"Number two was a girl's dream. He was handsome, successful and supportive. Unfortunately his family was filthy rich and thought I was after his money."
"He must have agreed with them, because three weeks before the wedding he asked me to sign a seventeen-page prenuptial agreement. I got offended, told him where to stick his
prenup
and gave him back his ring."
Nick threw his head back and laughed, drawing warm glances from the people at the next table. "Good for you,
Robolo
." He refilled their glasses. "And there's been no one else since?"
"No, I've sworn off men."
He leaned across the table. In the candlelight his blue eyes shimmered.
"That's not what it felt like last night."
"Maybe we should forget last night."
He pulled back, pretending to be offended. "Was I that bad?"
Oh, no. Nick, she thought, you were that good. That's what worries me.
"Stop fishing for compliments and eat your
cannoli
,
or my mother will accuse you of eating like a bird." They talked for another hour and never realized it was snowing again until a customer opened the curtains and pointed it out.
"Why don't you let me take you home?" Nick offered, standing up.
Kelly shook her head. "I want to stay and help my mother with the cleanup. That will give me a chance to spend a little more time with my uncle."
She didn't add that if he took her home, she would probably toss caution to the wind and ask him in. And that, she knew, would be a mistake. She liked him too much to spoil their new friendship with a romance that was bound to fail.
But Nick wasn't a man who was easily discouraged "In that case, I'll help your mother with the cleanup and you visit with Gino. After the feast he cooked for us, that's the least I can do. Then I'll take you home."
"I can drive in the snow. Nick. I've done it every winter since I got my learner's permit."
"I don't like the idea of you driving home alone at this time of night.
You won't take police protection, but at least let me do this."
"Stop it. You're making me sound helpless and I don't like the feeling."
He threw up his hands in surrender.
"All right, all right.
Let me say good-night to your family and I'm out of here."
By the time he came back the restaurant was empty. "Thanks, Kelly," he said as they walked to the door. "You did cheer me up.
You and your wonderful, zany family.
I'll have to get all three of you over to the house before Gino leaves and make you my mother's famous Irish stew."
"You cook?" Wonders never ceased.
"Not too badly. It's one of my favorite hobbies."
"Do
me
a favor, will you?" She lowered her voice. "Don't tell my mother."
"Hmm.
Maybe I should. She might put in a good word for me with her daughter." Gently, he took her face between his hands and kissed her.
This time, his lips brushed hers gently, sensually, in a side-to-side motion that threatened to melt down every ounce of resistance she had managed to hang on to so far.
"
Shh
. Don't
talk
. And don't tell me to stop."
She shut her eyes and let herself go. How could she tell him to stop when she was the one who couldn't tear away from him?
When images kept flashing through her mind, images of Nick carrying her up to her bedroom, laying her on the big canopy bed and making love to her all night.
But she did let him go, reluctantly. "Good night, Nick."
"Good night, Kelly."
She stood at the restaurant's bay window until he had disappeared into the snow. Then, her fingers on her moist lips, she turned and walked back into the kitchen.
"I'm taking you home," Gino declared after they had put the last dish away.
Kelly tucked the sponge into the dishwasher basket. "Don't be silly.
Uncle Gino. I'll be fine. And anyway, how would you get back?"
"You ever heard of cabs?"
"In this weather?
On a Saturday night?"
She glanced out the kitchen window. The snow had intensified, though it wasn't sticking to the road yet. "You've been away from Philly too long. Uncle Gino. You forgot that in this city cabs are never where you want them when you want them." She leaned forward, her tone conspiratorial. "And you have to stay with Ma."
"Because I wouldn't let him.
Now go, before Ma asks what we're whispering about."
"All right."
He kissed her cheek. "But you drive carefully, you hear?"
"I always do. Uncle Gino."
Outside, the wind had picked up and fat flakes fell on her bare head.
The streets were slippery, and walking in her two-inch heels was a challenge she wasn't accustomed to. In the CVS Pharmacy parking lot, the bright blue Beetle sat waiting. She wondered if an overzealous traffic cop had left a little present under the windshield wiper. The sign had clearly said CVS Patrons Only, but she had ignored it. Parking in South Philly was tough, but the traffic cops were even tougher. Maybe tonight, because of the snow, they had made an exception.
The surprise snowstorm had sent Philadelphians scurrying home, and the neighborhood that had been so lively earlier was now deserted. At the intersection of Ninth and Catherine, Kelly started to cross the street.
She was halfway to the other side when she saw the car. It moved slowly as though the driver was trying to read the street signs. Then, just when it should have stopped to let her go, it began picking up speed.
Kelly froze, momentarily blinded by the bright headlights. Her mind screamed at her to get out of the way, but she stayed rooted in the middle of the street, incapable of taking a step in either direction as the car hurtled toward her.
In that microsecond her instincts took over. Fighting for survival, she ran back to the curb and lunged behind a mini van. A blast of exhaust fumes hit her as the car roared by, its back fender scraping the minivan. Kelly tried to catch a glimpse of the person behind the wheel.
All she saw was a cap pulled low over the driver's forehead, and long, blond hair. The license plate light was
out,
making it impossible to read the numbers, but the car was familiar. From the back it looked like either a Mercedes or a Lexus.
She watched it zigzag down the street, tires screeching. It was a Lexus.
A black Lexus.
Kelly leaned against the minivan and took big gulps of air. Her head began to pound. Someone she knew owned a black Lexus.
Someone with long, blond hair.
Cecily Sanders.
Thirty.
Her head lowered, her hands on the back of the minivan, Kelly waited for her heart to stop pounding and her breathing to return to normal. She felt drained. Her entire body shook uncontrollably but strangely enough her mind was clear.
Someone had just tried to kill her. Not just someone, but Cecily Sanders.
Her best friend's aunt.
Chest still heaving, she looked up. The street was quiet once again and
Remo
After another minute, Kelly took a step, then another, testing her legs.
Nothing was broken or sprained. Her knees were bleeding from hitting the concrete, but other than that she was fine, at least physically.
Within moments she was inside the Beetle, the heater fan on high, her arms wrapped around herself as she waited for her nerves to settle.
Cecily had tried to kill her. The words kept dancing in Kelly's head, ludicrous one moment, terrifying the next. Maybe she was wrong. Or she was so anxious to get to the truth that she was seeing things that weren't there. Like a Lexus. Yes, Cecily had acted strangely these past few days, even irrationally. But could she be a
coldblooded
killer? It was a long, long stretch.
Sufficiently warmed, Kelly turned down the heat and slowly backed out of the parking lot. She didn't think the Lexus would come back, but why chance it?
As she drove, she thought of Cecily's reluctance to let Kelly search for Jonathan. From the start, she had cited a number of reasons--fear of scandal, the tarnishing of the Sanders' name, harassment from the press.
Kelly hadn't believed her. And she had sent Victoria and Phoebe into that house.
