Once I was sure Rossi had left the Surfside parking lot, I stripped off the purple dress and slid into jeans and a T-shirt. I locked the condo and headed for Rum Row, my guilt growing stronger the closer I got to the mansion. No question Rossi would have a fit if he knew I’d been sleeping there alone all week. But a promise was a promise, and as uneasy as I felt about walking into the Grandese house in the dark, Francesco remained my most valued client. Besides, the security system was state of the art. I had nothing to fear. I’d complete my week in Donny’s bed, and that would be the end of it.
The neighborhood was quiet when I drove onto the driveway, a lush velvety quiet scented with night-blooming jasmine and warm salty breezes. Even the owls were silent as I punched in the alarm code.
As soon as I entered the foyer, I reset the security system and tamped down my unease. Without even the murmur of the Gulf in the distance or the brush of leaf upon leaf, the silence was deeper inside than out.
Two hideous lamps cast pools of light over the living room’s treasures. Colored beads hung from the shades and lumpy clay goddesses cavorted on the bases. Donny’s choice? As ugly as the lamps were, I was grateful not to walk into a totally dark house.
I blew a kiss at the Townsend on my way to the master suite. No lamps in there, so I clicked on the overheads. The first of the week Tom Kruse and his crew could start in here. When they were finished, I’d have the new Stark carpeting installed, relocate the bed onto the opposite wall, bring in the Federal highboy and bureaus from the garage. Maybe to enhance the yin and yang, a round skirted table on one side of the bed. A masculine block-front chest on the other...
What was that? I turned down the monologue in my head and listened.
Hoot
.
Hoot
.
Oh, just the owls having a party outside the windows. My heartbeat eased out of its panic mode...a Greek key design in silvery blue would work well on a round table...
There it was again. Not owls, a creak. Nothing to be disturbed about. All houses creaked. I was imagining things.
That’s
what
happens
when
you
have
a
double
scotch
on
an
empty
stomach
.
An emergency energy bar lurked in the bottom of my handbag. I emptied the purse on the bed and there it was, peanut butter caramel with a slightly crumpled wrapper and a hundred and fifty calories’ worth of energy. I tore off the wrapping and finished the whole thing in three or four bites. So much for dinner. I placed the cell phone on the TV table by the bed, scooped everything else, including the gun, back into the purse and carried it into the master bathroom. Half finished with bare plastered walls and a rough concrete floor, it had the ghostlike appearance of a room in an abandoned building. I sniffed the air. Nothing but damp plaster. No fragrance of jasmine in here.
At least the shower, vanity sink and toilet had been plumbed, but the floor awaited a custom tile installation, and the full length wall mirrors were on special order. For days I’d put on my makeup and brushed my hair with only the aid of a compact. God knows what I’d looked like. Well last week had been a nightmare, and how I looked the least of my worries. This week—I checked my watch, Sunday, 1:00 a.m.—was unfolding like an American Beauty Rose.
Once I was out of here for good, I’d hire an assistant. Get a haircut. Have a pedicure. Buy a new outfit. At Victoria’s Secret. In purple. Forget white and beige. Call purple my new neutral. Change the sheets on the bed. Make love to Rossi.
Live
.
A creak. Louder this time. Closer. Wood floors did creak, but these hadn’t all week, not before tonight. Why now? And what was that? A voice? Somebody whispering?
Useless as broken rubber bands, my fingers fumbled in my bag for the Cobra.
A step, an unmistakable step on the hard, unfinished bedroom floor. Somebody out to kill me? My hand froze inside the purse. Not now, I wailed silently. Not now when all of life was beginning anew.
“Deva? Are you there?”
I choked back a scream and flung the door open. “Jewels! You nearly scared me to death. What are you doing here in the middle of the night?”
“We just got back. I saw the lights on, so I came to tell you we’re home.”
In the harsh overheads, dark shadows ringed Jewels’s eyes, and her baby bump showed. Judging from her appearance, I guessed Donny’s funeral had been brutal.
Heart pounding, I sagged against the front of the vanity. “Well, welcome home. I think you’ll see quite a few changes since you left. Francesco should be pleased.”
She nodded, as indifferent as ever to what the house looked like. But she listened as I nattered on. “The contractor has made great progress in the kitchen. This bathroom is nearly finished. On Monday, the painters can start in your bedroom, so by Friday, you and Francesco could move in if you like. The finishing touches can be added after you’re settled.”
“That would be good. My brother Joey drove us down. We’ll be crowded over the garage.”
“Then why not stay here tonight? I’m still dressed. I can drive back home.”
She eyed the bed as if it were a chocolate cream puff and she was on a diet. “It’s after one in the morning, Deva.”
“Doesn’t matter. I can be at Surfside in fifteen minutes. If you help me strip the bed, we can change it in no time.”
“I don’t care about the sheets. I just want to put my head on a pillow. It was a long drive from Rhode Island with two men and a baby.” She patted her stomach. “Two babies. I was nauseous most of the way.”
We were so busy chatting, I didn’t hear them come in. Not a creak. Not a footstep. Neither did Jewels. But suddenly there they were—Pinstripes and Serge—blocking the door to the master suite, trapping us in the bathroom. I drew in a shocked breath. “Omigod, not you again.”
Jewels spun around, took one look and screamed. Pinstripes grabbed her and put a hand over her mouth, stifling her outcry.
“Nix on that. No yelling allowed.”
“Let her go, she’s pregnant,” I snapped.
“We know,” Serge replied, a snarky smirk on his face.
“You
know
? Who are you, anyway?”
“We ask the questions. But since I’m a nice guy, I’ll tell you. We’re friends of Donny.”
“Ain’t that right, Jewels?” Pinstripes said in her ear.
“You know her name?”
He gave me a sullen, high-shouldered shrug. “We know a lot, lady. But there’s stuff we don’t know. Like who the hell are you?”
“Let her go, and I’ll tell you.”
“You’ll tell me anyway. But like I said, I’m a nice guy.” Again in Jewels’s ear, he said, “Don’t yell and you won’t get hurt. Understood?”
She nodded.
“We just want to talk to Frannie. He with you?”
Another nod.
He took his hand away from her mouth but held onto her arm.
“I’m going to be sick,” Jewels said.
“Let her go,” I said.
Jewels moaned.
“She’s going to throw up, asshole. You want it on your shoes?”
As if his hands were on fire, he released her. Jewels made a beeline for the toilet. I took a step toward her, but Pinstripes stuck out a foot, nearly tripping me. “Not so fast.”
“How about giving us some privacy? There’s no window in here. Where are we going to go?”
He glanced over at Jewels on her knees in front of the john noisily barfing up her bellybutton. “We’ll be outside.”
The two goons left, slamming the door behind them. Working fast, I dumped the contents of my purse in the vanity sink. No time for fumbling, just a few moments while Jewels did her thing. Once she stopped vomiting, they would be in after us.
Wrong. Not even that long. I’d no sooner tucked the Cobra into the front of my jeans and flipped the T-shirt over it when the door reopened and Pinstripes joined us in the middle of Jewels’s performance. In this tight space, I couldn’t do any more than hide the gun, never mind use it. He’d be all over me before I could release the safety and pull the trigger.
Intent on Jewels, he didn’t notice as I scooped the rest of my stuff into the bag.
Barely able to breathe in my now skin-tight jeans, I took a chance, reached under the shirt and unfastened the button at my waist. With a shaky hand, Jewels flushed the toilet. I took a deep breath of the foul air and regretted it.
The same gray as the plaster walls, Jewels pulled herself to her feet, clinging to the edge of the vanity for support.
I dampened a washcloth and gave it to her. She took it with a weak smile and wiped her face and hands. “Why don’t you let her sit down?” I said to Pinstripes.
“Yeah,” Serge said, barging in and sniffing the air. “Let’s get the hell out of here. It stinks.”
“Lovely. Maybe if you hadn’t scared her half to death, you’d be sniffing roses right now.”
“What’s your name?” Pinstripes asked me.
“Mrs. Dunne. What’s yours?”
“Vito.”
“How do you spell that?” My defiance was nothing but a flimsy sham, but I was determined not to show how frightened I was. I was also stalling for time. Surely any minute now Francesco would come barging in, looking for his pregnant wife, and give these guys whatever it was they wanted.
“Mrs. Dunne, huh? Like I told you before when we paid a call on
Mrs
. Salvatore, you’re a wiseass.”
Using his Glock like a baton, Serge waved us over to the bed. Jewels sank onto the mattress with a sigh. I stood at the foot holding on to the bedpost as if it were a merry-go-round pole. In a way it was. I’d circled around these two goons before. Like the first time in Chip’s place, the reason for it baffled me.
Vito and Serge—I didn’t bother asking Serge his name—stood in front of Jewels, arms crossed. “Where’s Frannie?” Vito asked her.
Listless, wan, she shrugged her narrow shoulders.
Serge slid the gun into his jacket pocket and took a step closer. Even without the pistol in his hand, he looked tough enough to break her in two. “The man asked you a question.”
She looked up, eyes wide. “Over the garage.”
“Alone?”
She shook her head. “The baby’s with him.”
“Anybody else?”
Jewels hesitated, then shook her head. “No.”
“You’re a liar. Just like always.” Serge leaned over the bed and gave her a slap that sent her spread-eagled across the mattress.
“Hey,” I yelled. “Cut that out.”
“You. Shut up,” Serge said, then to Jewels, “Find a phone. We want you should get hold of Frannie.”
Jewels lay whimpering on the bed.
“You need a phone,” I said. “Feel free. Use mine.”
Serge turned toward me with a snarl, ready, I was sure, to send me flying across the room. Not wanting him to get near enough to feel the Cobra at my waist, I held up my hands, palms out. “No offense. You want a phone? I have a phone.” I pointed to the bedside table. “Right there.”
Vito snatched it off the table and, grabbing Jewels by the arm, sat her up and handed her the cell. “Call Frannie. Tell him to get over here fast.”
“It’ll wake the baby.”
He stared at her without saying another word. Just stared. And stared. With a trembling hand, Jewels reached out and took the cell.
While we all watched, she tapped in some numbers. Then, “Frannie, Deva needs to talk to you.” A pause. “I know it’s late. We have a problem here. A big one. Tell Joey to stay with the baby.” She hung up and wordlessly laid the phone on the bed.
“Let’s go,” Serge said to her. “We’ll meet him in the other room. Both of you dames shake a leg.”
I let go of the bedpost, and he gave me a shove toward the door.
“What’s the matter, you got a bug in your margarita?” I asked, playing with fire, but anger trumped my fear. Besides I had an ace, if not up my sleeve, down my pants, and that was comforting, as long as the safety didn’t let go and the gun shoot out my appendix.
Nerves in shreds despite my bluster, I followed Jewels, whose complexion had gone from gray to ashen, into the living room with the thugs right behind us.
Vito glanced around, a disgusted expression on his face. “You got a problem with chairs? There’s not one in the whole damn house.” He pointed to the Townsend. “Just useless junk like that. I always heard Grandese was nuts, but this caps it.”
“The design isn’t finished,” I said. “The chairs are on special order. Come back for the open house party. You’ll be impressed.”
“Enough out of you. Both of you, on the floor.” Jewels squatted down in front of the Townsend, tented her knees and huddled into a crumpled ball. I was scared all right, but at the sight of the palpable terror in her eyes, I was worried for her.
“I’ll stand.” I didn’t want to sit hunched on the floor in my snug jeans with the Cobra digging into my belly.
