Italian Knights (13 page)

David’s car slid to a halt in front of her. Over the past few weeks he’d stopped by occasionally, but almost as soon as David showed up, Sal seemed to appear out of nowhere. It was odd, almost as if Sal had a radar device on David.

“Ann,” David called, rolling down the window. “Hi. Get in.”

“Just for a moment,” she said, opening the door and climbing in. “I’m waiting for Sal.” Since the night she’d told David she couldn’t have supper with him, he’d repeatedly asked her out, but she had steadfastly refused. There was no point in leading the man on. He was pleasant enough, but her heart belonged to someone else, and it would have been cruel to give David false hope. Yet, despite her gentle rebuffs David still kept coming around, much to Sal’s chagrin.

“You look lovely, Ann,” David said, letting his eyes rest on the gentle curve of her breast. The way he looked at her made her feel extremely uncomfortable. She remembered what Sal had said about David’s concern about her lack of male “attention,” and she flushed.

“Thank you,” she said, shifting uncomfortably.

“You like Sal, don’t you?” David’s lips thinned in displeasure.

Annie smiled. “Yes, very much.”

David’s lips thinned. “I figured as much. I never thought I’d get beat out by—well, never mind.” He reached out and slowly stroked her bare arm, sending a clammy sense of apprehension rippling over her. “It’s a shame, Ann. Really. I’d thought—” He smiled grimly. “Well, it doesn’t matter now.”

“I’m sorry,” Ann whispered, wishing she’d never even gotten into the car with him. She was beginning to feel very, very nervous. What ever made her think David was pleasant and harmless? The expression on his face was neither pleasant nor harmless. “David, you’re very nice and sweet, but I’m not…I’d like us to just be friends. I hope you understand.”

David nodded, but he didn’t look particularly understanding. “Tell me, Ann, what do you see in that—”

“Yoo-hoo, David!” Mrs. Altero leaned out her window and waved. Annie heaved a sigh of relief.

“Oh, no,” he groaned, slouching lower in his seat. “Ann, that woman is a menace! She should be locked up somewhere. She fed me this awful-looking mess that smelled like dirty socks, and—”

“David,” Annie began slowly, trying not to laugh. “Mrs. Altero is a wonderful woman, just naturally friendly. I’m sure she was just trying to be kind.”

“Kind!” He snorted in disgust. “This neighborhood is filled with kooks. I don’t know why you insist on staying here. It’s not only not safe, but detrimental to a human being’s intellectual growth. Half the people here can’t even speak the language. And the smells—” David shuddered. “I’m telling you, Ann, you’re taking your life in your hands if you insist on staying. First a burglary, and then who knows what. I wish you would reconsider. I’m sure I could get you a good price for the deli, and the house. I don’t see why you won’t—”

“David, please.” She held up her hands, not wanting another lecture. “I told you before, I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

“There’s a nice apartment open in my building. I’m sure if I talk to the leasing agent—”

“David, I’ve got to go.” Prepared to bolt, she grabbed the door handle, but David laid a hand on her arm, his fingers digging into the soft, bare flesh.

“David!” Annie cried, shocked. “You’re hurting me.”

“I’m sorry,” David said, loosening his grip but not releasing her. “But I wish you’d reconsider, or at least think about it. If you change your mind about—”

She yanked her arm free. “I’m not going to change my mind, David, but thank you for offering.” Annie threw open the door and jumped out. Absently rubbing her arm, she heaved a sigh of relief when she saw his little import tear away from the curb.

David was a very strange man, and seemingly obsessed with safety. If he only knew that in the past few moments she’d been more afraid of him than anything else.

“Was that Dancing David?” Sal growled in her ear, and she screamed, clutching a hand to her heart. “Annie!” Sal laughed, and wrapped his arms around her trembling body. “What on earth is wrong?”

“You scared me,” she breathed, flinging her arms around him, trying to shake off her fear. Sal held her at arm’s length, letting his eyes travel over her.

He frowned. “What’s the matter?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, really. David was just—” She shivered despite the warmth of the summer night.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

Annie knew that if she told him David had grabbed her arm, Sal would be livid. “No,” she lied. “He just kind of scared me. He gives me the creeps.”

“Tell me what happened.” Sal’s voice was low and threatening and Annie shivered.

“He just stopped by and asked me to get into the car for a minute—I know, Sal. Don’t scowl like that. I know you don’t like him, but we weren’t going anywhere and I thought it would be all right.” She shuddered. “He was acting weird. He knows I don’t want to go out with him anymore.”

“Good.” Sal looked at her carefully, his fists bunching at his sides. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

She nodded, feeling a great sense of relief knowing Sal was there. “I’m fine.”

“Annie,” he growled. “I don’t want you to see him anymore.”

“Sal, I wasn’t
seeing
him. He just happened to come by—”

“I don’t care what it was. I don’t like him, and I don’t trust him. I don’t want that creep anywhere near you. Now promise me, Annie?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and soft. She didn’t know if this was some macho declaration of possession, or if Sal was really worried about David.

“Sal?”

His gaze met hers. “What, hon?”

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a smile. “You haven’t kissed me yet.” He bent and nuzzled her mouth with his. Annie forgot her fears and her questions and laced her arms around Sal’s neck.

“Kissing in public!” A deep male voice accused, causing Annie to jump back out of Sal’s arms. “I tell you, Sal, you never learn. I ought to arrest you for public indecency.”

Annie turned, coming face-to-face with a man who would have scared the daylights out of her if he wasn’t smiling—and holding a squirming toddler under his arm. He was big, almost as big as Sal, and looked totally intimidating with a shock of pitch-black hair and big, bold blue eyes.

“Ryce!” Sal slapped the man on the shoulder. “How the hell have you been?”

“Busy,” Ryce growled, glancing down at the squirming toddler in his arms.

“Michael Ryce, this is Annie Milano.” Ryce handed Sal the baby and took Annie’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He turned to Sal, who was trying to hang on to the squirming child. “I’d say your taste is improving,” Ryce said with a grin, flashing Annie a wink.

Annie smiled, immediately liking the man. “And who is this?” Annie asked, taking the baby from Sal. “He’s beautiful.”

“That,” Ryce said proudly, “is Michael Ryce, Junior. And I’ll tell his mother you said that.”

“How is Willie?” Sal asked, draping an arm around Annie.

“Getting big and crabby. Doctor says it could be twins.”

Annie’s eyes widened. The child in her arms couldn’t be more than a year and a half old. “How many children do you
have
?” she asked in surprise, and Ryce and Sal exchanged amused glances.

“I’ll tell you all about it later, Annie,” Sal said, draping an arm around her. “But right now, I’ve got to talk to Ryce.”

“Why don’t I take the baby inside so you two can talk?” Flashing them a smile, Annie carried the baby inside, letting the door slam shut softly behind her. She’d been a cop’s wife long enough to know when to make herself scarce.

“So, did you find out anything?” Sal asked, once Annie was safely inside. Ryce had been Sal’s first partner, and Sal had had Ryce, who was now an attorney, do some checking into David and his background.

Ryce shook his dark head. “This Donaldson guy is some interesting character. You sure can pick ’em, Sal.”

“He doesn’t have a record, I already checked.”

Ryce nodded and smiled. “Hasn’t done anything he could get caught at yet. He’s into developing residential and commercial property. I found out he’s got options on half the land on this block.”

Sal frowned. “What do you mean, options?”

“He gave the owners a deposit, so if and when they decide to sell, he gets first crack at a depressed price.”

Sal shook his head. “I don’t understand. No one in this neighborhood wants to sell. So what’s the point in taking an option?”

“What he does, Sal, is take options on properties that he can resell at lucrative prices. The last area he did this in was over in Logan Square. It was a two-block area pretty much like this. Small neighborhood stores, sole proprietors, first- and second-generation Americans who’d lived in the same neighborhood all their lives. No one over there wanted to sell, either.”

“So, what happened?”

“I guess there was a rash of burglaries and muggings. The next thing you know, people start to panic. They think the area is unsafe and they want out. Old Donaldson’s right there, offering cash on the barrelhead. People are afraid that if they don’t sell, they won’t be able to get anything for their property, so—”

“So they sell to him at a low price, just to get out.” Sal clenched his fists together. “Damn!”

“First one sells, then another, and before you know it, the whole neighborhood changes hands. Donaldson turns around and sells the property to a large developer for ten times what he paid for it.”

“That bast—”

“Easy, Sal,” Ryce cautioned. “All we’ve got here is a lot of speculation. We’ve got no proof that’s what he’s trying to do here. Or that he was in any way connected with the burglary. But he’s scum, Sal, and he uses scare tactics to prey on people’s fears.”

“If he comes near Annie again—” Sal swore under his breath.

“Sal, there’s something else you should know.” Ryce shifted his frame uncomfortably. “How…uh…fond are you of Annie?” He’d met a lot of Sal’s women over the years, but he’d never seen Sal behave this way about any of them. He had a feeling this lady was special, judging from the look on Sal’s face.

“Why?” Sal asked, curious.

“Well, it seems that Donaldson tries to get to know the people in the neighborhoods. Over in Logan Square he started dating a divorcee; when all hell broke loose, no one suspected him of anything because he’d—”

Sal held up a hand to stop him. “I get the picture.
Damn!
He’s been seeing Annie only to ingratiate himself into the neighborhood so he’ll be above suspicion. He’s been using Annie to help him carry out his plans.” Rage ripped through Sal.

Ryce scratched his chin, leaning back against the wall. “So, uh, if you care about Annie, I suggest you keep her away from this creep.”

“Oh, I will,” Sal said firmly. “I will.”

“So, do you?” Ryce asked, his lips twitching in amusement.

“Do I what?”

“Care about Annie?”

Sal turned to look at his friend and grinned. “Yeah.”

Ryce shook his head and laughed. “I don’t believe it! Finally someone’s hooked Smooth, Suave Sal. It’s about time. Does she know yet?”

Sal shook his head and stared off down the block. “No,” he said quietly. “I’ve been trying to take things slow. There’s a…problem,” he hedged, and Ryce looked at him carefully.

“Why don’t you tell me what the problem is? Maybe I can help.”

Sal looked at his friend. Maybe it would do some good to talk to someone about this. He’d carried it around so long, he’d lost all objectivity about it. It sure as hell couldn’t hurt. “Do you remember Tony Milano?”

Ryce frowned. “Wasn’t he your partner, the one that was killed a couple years ago?” Sal nodded. “Is Annie his—” Sal nodded again.

“Ever since Tony died, I’ve kind of been looking after Annie. It started out as kind of a friendship, but now—” Sal dragged a hand through his hair, “—I’ve never felt this way about a woman before.”

Ryce grinned. He remembered the feeling very well. He’d felt the same way when he had met Willie. “And you’re scared.”

“That’s part of it,” Sal acknowledged. “But I also feel guilty.”

“What the hell for?”

He sighed. “She was my best friend’s wife,” Sal said in disgust. “It’s like I’m being disloyal to him or something.”

“What?” Ryce asked with a frown, trying to understand Sal’s problem.

“Hell, Ryce, I’m supposed to be looking out for Annie, not falling in love with her.”

“Sal,” Ryce said, dropping a hand to his friend’s shoulder. “Tony’s dead, there’s nothing you can do or say to change that. Annie’s alive and well. Annie’s not his wife, she’s his widow. There’s a big difference. If you care for her and she cares for you, I don’t see what the hell is the problem.”

“Ryce,” Sal said solemnly. “There’s something else.”

“What?”

“Do you remember when Tony first died and I—”

“You borrowed my cabin and took off for a while. Sure, I remember.”

“I never told Annie what happened the night Tony died.”