Italian Knights (7 page)

“Oh, my God!” Annie’s hand flew to her mouth. The store had been ransacked, not a shelf or a counter had been left untouched. While she catered to the neighborhood’s needs, stocking special Italian items such as imported olive oils and tomatoes, she also carried a little bit of everything from soap to soup to laundry detergent.

Her eyes traveled slowly around the room. Every single display case and rack had been overturned. Boxes had been ripped open and dumped all over the wooden floor, cans and bottles had been smashed against the walls and left to drip sticky messes. The glass deli case had been shattered and emptied. Broken glass was spilled all over everything, spoiling all of her imported cheeses and meats. The old-fashioned cash register that sat on the waist-high counter was open and empty. The entire deli was a disaster.

“My God!” Annie whimpered, clutching Sal’s arm. “They’ve ruined me.”

“I want to call the station.” Sal stripped off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. “Don’t touch anything, Annie,” he ordered as she wandered around helplessly, sidestepping broken glass and puddles.

Numb, she walked up and down the aisles, trying to understand what had happened, and why. Who could do this, but more important, why? There was a large all-night market not two blocks away. Surely they had much more to offer than a small, neighborhood deli.

The deli had been her haven, her security, the one thing she had left after Tony died. Knowing someone had done this deliberately caused a shiver of terror to wash over her. She’d never felt so violated before.

Annie wandered around helplessly, nearly stumbling over a picture that had been hanging on the wall behind the counter. Without thinking, she bent over and picked it up. It was a picture of her, Tony and Sal that had been taken shortly before Tony died. The glass was shattered, the frame bent.

Unexpected tears filled her eyes and she clutched the photo to her heart. She felt so alone. And so frightened. How could someone do this to her?

“Annie?” Sal’s voice was gentle as he pried the picture loose from her arms and set it on the counter. “I talked to the station. They’ve already been here to dust for prints. Their guess is it was an amateur, judging from the entry. But we’ll need you to take an inventory and fill out a report as to what’s missing. Do you think you can do that?” He dropped his hands to her shoulders and looked at her intently. Her face was white as a sheet, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Sal, why?” She raised stricken eyes to his. He didn’t know who had done this, or why. But he sure as hell was going to find out. He’d only seen her look like this once, and he’d vowed then she would never look that sad, that alone, that vulnerable again. Swearing softly, he hauled her into his arms.

Great racking sobs shook Annie’s body, and she held on to Sal tightly. Stroking her hair, Sal let her cry until her tears subsided.

Sniffling, Annie drew back and took the handkerchief Sal offered, giving him a tremulous smile. What would she have done without him tonight? Or for the past two years? He was her knight in shining armor. Her eyes filled again and a soft cry escaped her. Sal quietly gathered her into his arms again. She was so grateful he was here by her side. She slid her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shirt.

“Annie?” He kept his arms around her, holding her close, enjoying the warmth and comfort of her. “Do you think you’re up to taking inventory? I’ll help.”

Nodding, Annie blinked away her tears, lifting her tearstained face to his. Looking into his eyes, she was vividly reminded of the kiss they’d shared just moments ago. His mouth had been so soft, so sweet, his arms so comforting. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She had been trying so hard not to need him, but until this moment, she’d never realized just how much she really
did
need him. Annie pulled out of his arms.

“I’ll have to go home and change. I can’t take inventory until I clean this place up.” She shrugged. “I don’t know what’s here or what’s missing.” She glanced around again and shivered suddenly.

“Come on,” Sal said, draping an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she murmured, knowing she wanted nothing more than for Sal to stay with her, the closer the better. At least until this sudden attack of fear subsided.

“I know I don’t have to,” Sal said gently, brushing her hair off her face. “But I want to. Don’t worry, we’ll have this place cleaned up in time for you to open in the morning. Let’s go get you changed and I’ll call my mother and aunt and tell them what happened.” Sal led her out the door. They walked back to Annie’s house, and for the first time since she’d lived in the neighborhood, for the first time in her life, Annie realized she was frightened.

“What’s wrong?” Sal asked as she inched closer to him, clutching his jacket as they walked.

“I’m scared,” she whispered, scanning the darkened street. “I never thought I’d ever say that. I’ve lived in this neighborhood my whole life, walked up and down these streets on hundreds of nights without ever being afraid, but now—” She glanced up at him. “I never thought I’d be scared,” she whispered, “but I am.”

He tightened his arm around her as she hurried up the stairs of her house and opened the door. Slamming it shut soundly behind her, Annie took a deep breath when she realized her home was safe and sound. It was an old brownstone that she’d lovingly restored after her husband’s death. Tonight it seemed even more warm and welcoming. Tonight it seemed—safe.

“I know how you feel,” Sal said quietly, his eyes pinning hers. “But I’m here, Annie. You don’t have to be afraid of anything, ever.”

His words were reassuring. But she knew Sal wouldn’t always be there for her. The thought brought a round of sadness. She thought that was what she wanted—not to be a burden to him anymore, to let him go and to lead her own life and let him lead his. But now, the prospect of not having Sal around anymore terrified her, not just because of the burglary, but for reasons far more personal. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and she couldn’t help remembering the touch and taste of Sal’s mouth on hers. She suddenly felt like crying again.

“I’d better go change,” she said hesitantly, glancing up the long oak stairway that led to her bedroom.

“Want me to come upstairs?” Sal asked, sensing her fear.

“I feel like a baby,” she confessed, trying to smile as he took her hand and led her up the stairs. “It’s just…I feel so…spooked,” she said, unable to find a better word to describe what she was feeling.

“I know, honey. But you’ll get over it, I promise.” Sal waited right outside Annie’s bedroom door while she changed, using the hall phone to call his mom and aunt to let them know what had happened.

His mother and his aunt worked for Annie part-time, and he knew if he didn’t tell them, someone from the neighborhood would, and he didn’t want them to worry. Everyone knew everything about everybody in the neighborhood. Word of the burglary would spread fast, and hopefully someone would remember something—anything—that would give him a clue as to who had done this. He surely hoped so. He couldn’t remember ever wanting anyone as badly as he wanted the people responsible for doing this to Annie.

Once changed, Annie let Sal take her back to the deli where they set about cleaning up the place. After stripping off his suit jacket, Sal rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

“I’ll start in this aisle,” Sal instructed. “You start on the next. That way we can see each other.” He smiled as Annie hesitantly let go of his hand. Despite the heat, Annie had thrown on a pair of old faded jeans and a short-sleeved sweater. She was cold, so cold, and she couldn’t stop shivering.

“Sal,” she asked after a few moments. “Why would anyone want to rob the deli? I mean, what could they possibly want?”

It was a question he’d been asking himself since they’d walked in. It didn’t make sense. From the quick appraisal he had done, he really couldn’t see anything missing. The place was wrecked, but whoever was responsible didn’t seem to have been interested in anything other than the cash.

“I don’t know, Annie. I just don’t know.”

“Sal, look at this.” Annie handed Sal two empty candy wrappers she’d found on the floor. “What do you make of this?”

He frowned. “A hungry burglar?” he quipped, examining the wrappers carefully. Everything indicated this was the work of amateurs.
Stupid
amateurs, if they’d stopped to sample the merchandise. He sifted through the debris, looking for a plastic bag to put the evidence in.

A loud rapping on the door caused Annie to scream. She bolted straight into Sal’s arms.

“Easy, Annie,” he soothed, tightening his arms around her trembling body. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “It’s only my mother and Auntie Florina.” Embarrassed, Annie pulled out of his embrace.

Sal crossed the room with Annie right on his heels. He pulled open the door and grabbed both ladies up in a bear hug. “Ma! Auntie Florina!”

Rosina and Florina were twins. Everything about them was identical, from their neatly tucked silver buns to their somber black dresses, dark cotton stockings and low-heeled, sensible shoes. Each clutched a double-handled black pocketbook as if it contained her entire life savings. The only difference between the two was Florina’s glasses—and her tongue. Florina was three minutes older and three times more vocal than her rather shy, demure twin.

“Who could do this, Salvatore?” his mother asked, surveying the deli with wide, frightened eyes.

“Punks!” Florina raged, shaking a fist in the air. “Annie, I brought you something.” Florina stepped over the debris, patting Annie’s hand reassuringly.

“You take this,” she ordered, handing Annie a baseball bat. “Anyone come into the store, you bop ’em with this. That will teach them.”

“No, Auntie Florina,” Sal admonished, banishing a smile and gingerly taking the weapon from her and leaning it against the wall. “That’s a good way for Annie to get hurt. Let us handle it.”

“Oh, Salvatore, if only Papa were alive,” his mother said wistfully, dabbing at her eyes. “He would know what to do, how to handle this.”

“Papa knew how to handle everything,” Florina added. “Like our Salvatore, here. Right, sister?”

“Right.” Rosina nodded. “My son, he’s such a good boy,” she told Annie, who smiled. Sal was hardly a boy. He was a man, all man, as she’d discovered tonight. But Florina was right. Sal
could
handle everything. Annie had never felt so grateful for his company or comfort.

“Come on, sister,” Florina instructed, heading toward the back room. “Let’s get our aprons and clean up this mess.”

Annie knew it was useless to argue with them. She needed their help, and to refuse their offer would be an insult. Ever since Tony died—no, even before—they’d been so good to her. They’d taken her under their wing and been the family she didn’t have. Annie couldn’t love the twins any more if they
were
family.

“Sal,” Annie said quietly, watching as he righted a small display stand. “Thank you.”

He looked up at her in surprise. “For what?”

“For everything.” Her eyes met his, and she quickly looked away. When Sal looked at her she felt her pulse pound recklessly. She could no longer look at Sal as just a friend, but had to see him as a man. A deliciously desirable, handsome man. Annie knew there was no place in her life—or his—for such feelings. He was just a friend. And she was just his obligation, she reflected sadly. In order to quell her disturbing thoughts, Annie grabbed a broom and began sweeping up a pile of loose pasta scattered along the floor.

“Salvatore,” his mother whispered, coming up behind him so Annie wouldn’t hear. “Florina and I—we’re worried.”

Sal straightened. “Ma, don’t worry,” he said, patting her shoulder. “It’s over now. We’ll have this place cleaned up in no time.”

His mother shook her head. “It’s not that,” she said with a worried frown.

“What, then?”

Rosina and Florina exchanged glances. They said more with one look than most people said with a thousand words. Long ago Sal had learned to trust their intuition.

“There’s this man,” his mother began, glancing at Annie cautiously. She was busily sweeping, not paying the least bit of attention to them.

Florina grabbed Sal’s arms and steered him around. “Salvatore. We didn’t want to bother you, but…” Her voice trailed off and she glanced at her sister.

Sal looked from one to the other. “Ma, Auntie Florina, what is it? What man?” If there was something suspicious going on, he wanted to know about it.

“Salvatore,” his mother began. “This stranger, he’s been coming around and—”

“What stranger?” Sal asked. He knew his aunt and his mother would get to the point in their own good time. But right now, his patience was strained.

“Rosina, you’re too long-winded,” Florina scolded, peering at her sister over the rims of her glasses. “You
know
Papa always said you were long-winded. You’d better let me tell him.”

Rosina nodded. “You tell him, sister.”

“Salvatore,” Florina whispered. “This man, he’s been coming around by Annie for the past week, and we don’t like it. He’s up to no good. We can just feel it, right, sister?” Florina touched a hand to her heart.

Rosina looked at her son and nodded solemnly.