Read Franco's Fortune (Redemption Book 2) Online

Authors: Cara Marsi

Tags: #romantic suspense, #thriller, #suspense, #series, #contemporary romance, #sensual romance

Franco's Fortune (Redemption Book 2) (8 page)

BOOK: Franco's Fortune (Redemption Book 2)
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She tapped her lip with her index finger. “I agree
we have to keep all possibilities open. Whoever’s trying to kill
you has to be someone you know. Think, really think. Who could have
it in for you? Any women out for revenge? Anyone with a fatal
attraction to you?”

He laughed. “I like to think I’m too smart to go out
with a woman like that.”

“You and a bunch of other men.”

He furrowed his brow. “I’ve broken up with women.
Some of them…” He shrugged. “Most of them didn’t want to let
go.”

“I always pegged you for a heartbreaker.” She tried
to keep her tone light, but a twinge of anxiety pulled at her. He’d
shatter her heart too if she let him.

“I admit I’ve broken a few hearts, but the women
knew from the beginning it wasn’t going anyplace.” He smiled and
slid closer. “How many hearts have you broken, Ms. Josephine
Fortune?”

She clenched a hand at her side, battling the old
pain that his words provoked. “None, and we’re talking about you.
I’m not the one with some crazy person after me. So back off.”

He sidled away. “Seriously, Jo, I can’t imagine any
of the women I dated trying to kill me.” He furrowed his brow
again. “I’ve given the police, you, and Harris the names of all the
women I’ve dated in the past two years. There are no other
names.”

Jo grabbed her tablet she’d set on the coffee table
earlier and powered it on. “I’ve got the names in here. I’ve
already checked their Facebook pages, but couldn’t find anything
useful. I even did a spreadsheet with all their names, but nothing
clicks. Let’s go over each one. Maybe something will jog your
memory, something that makes you think the woman might have it in
for you. Okay?”

“If it is an old girlfriend with an ax to grind, why
is she asking for money?”

Jo tapped the screen on her tablet. “Just go along
with me. We have to consider every angle. The money thing could be
to throw us off.”

He nodded.

She went through the first five names, and Franco
shook his head on each one. When she got to the sixth name, he
hesitated.

“What?” She looked down at the screen again. “Lynn
DiGiacomo. Is there something about her?”

“Could be. I didn’t think it was important until
now. I dated Lynn about eighteen months ago. We only went out for
three weeks and we weren’t exclusive with each other. I liked her,
but she was clingy. After the first week, I couldn’t take her
constant phone calls and text messages demanding to know where I’d
been and who I’d been with.”

“How did you meet her?”

“You want a drink?” He stood and headed to the
bar.

“I’ll have water, but quit stonewalling.”

“I’m not stonewalling. I’m thirsty.” He opened the
small refrigerator behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of beer
and a bottle of water. He screwed off the caps on each and carried
the bottles to the sectional, handing the water to Jo before
sitting.

He took a long swig of his drink, then leveled his
gaze at Jo.

“I met Lynn at one of the casinos in Atlantic City.
She and I were guests at a birthday party for one of my clients.
She was beautiful and I was attracted to her right away, but from
the beginning she felt more for me.” He shot Jo a self-deprecating
grin. “At first, I liked having this extraordinarily beautiful and
sexy woman crazy about me. But three weeks was all I could take of
her insecurity and I stopped seeing her.”

Jo took a swallow of her water and set her bottle
down next to his on the table. “How did she take you cutting her
loose?”

“Not well. She called me every day for a couple of
weeks after that, always begging me to come see her or meet her
somewhere. I finally realized she needed a friend, someone to talk
to. We remained friends for about six months until she told me her
husband was in prison.”

Jo gasped. “She was married?”

He narrowed his eyes at her, then grabbed his beer
and took another long swig. “I don’t date married women. Despite my
reputation, I have lines I won’t cross and that’s one of them.”

“You didn’t know she was married when you met
her?”

“Of course not. Didn’t you hear what I just
said?”

Jo put her head back and released a deep sigh, then
looked at him again. “You dated a woman whose husband was in jail?
You broke her heart apparently. I’m sure dear hubby was glad to
hear that.”

“I wouldn’t have thought she told him.”

“Where’s Lynn now? Where’s the husband? And why
didn’t you tell the police?”

“You should be a cop with all these questions.
Lynn’s still in Rumson, New Jersey, far as I know. Her husband may
have a different last name and I’m not sure if he’s out of
prison.”

Jo entered the information into her tablet. “Why was
her husband in prison?”

“Assault. It may have been mob-related. He
apparently did some work for them.”

Jo groaned. “God save me.” She held up a hand and
counted off on her fingers. “You dated a woman whose husband was in
prison. You broke her heart. Husband has mob ties. You didn’t think
to tell the police these little tidbits?”

“Lynn is a good person. I felt bad that I’d hurt
her. She was always sad and needy. I couldn’t risk hurting her
again by bringing her into this. She’d cheated on her husband. I
feel sure she didn’t tell him about me, but if I told the police
the whole story, they’d investigate her, and her husband might find
out what she did. I couldn’t do that to her.”

“Aren’t you the Sir Galahad?”

“Don’t mock me, Jo. I know your impression of me,
everyone’s impression. Yeah, I’ve been wild and irresponsible, but
there are things about me you don’t know. No one knows. Believe it
or not, I do have a heart.”

Guilt pricked her conscience. She knew he had a good
heart. She’d seen more and more of it lately. “I’m sorry, Franco. I
shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t want her to get into trouble
for cheating on her husband. I get that. But she knew full well
what she was doing when she started the affair with you.”

She held his gaze. “What am I going to do with you?
You don’t tell anyone about the kids and the cleaning lady who have
keys to your house. You don’t tell the police you dated a woman
whose husband is in prison. A husband who has mob ties. I’m
beginning to think you have a death wish.”

***

Chapter Eight

E
xcitement surged through
Jo. She bolted upright in her chair, rubbed her eyes, then stared
back at the computer screen. Finally. Here was something—a possible
lead in this case. She scrolled down the page and reread the police
reports, making sure she hadn’t missed anything. She pressed a hand
to her thigh to stop the jittery movement her leg made whenever her
instincts kicked in.

Salvatore DiGiacomo, husband of Franco’s old flame
Lynn DiGiacomo, had a sheet going back to his teen years. He’d
recently served time for assaulting a man in a bar. According to
the reports of eyewitnesses to the latest incident, DiGiacomo had
tried to collect money the man owed him. When the guy couldn’t pay
and begged DiGiacomo for more time, DiGiacomo had refused and beat
the guy badly enough to send him to the hospital for two weeks.
DiGiacomo had been released from prison a month ago.

Jo’s mind whirled with possible scenarios. She fist
bumped the air.

Franco had said the guy might work for the mob.
Could DiGiacomo have been trying to collect mob money from his
victim? Sifting through her thoughts, she gazed off into the
distance. The mob took retribution on its collectors who didn’t do
their jobs. DiGiacomo would know what the mob would do to him if he
failed. If the victim hadn’t come up with the money, DiGiacomo
would still owe the mob. Knowing Franco was wealthy, maybe
DiGiacomo was trying to shake him down for money to pay his debt.
That way he could get revenge on Franco for sleeping with his wife
and he’d get his money.

The fine hairs on her arms stood at attention as
excitement swirled through her again. Yes, it could be. It was
beginning to make sense.

Jo stretched her arms above her head and glanced at
the microwave clock. Three a.m. Harris had promised to relieve her
at four this morning so she could get some sleep before her
shopping trip at ten. She rolled her eyes, blew out a breath,
rubbed her lower back and twisted her head from side to side. Her
stiff muscles protested her movements. The high stool she sat on
didn’t offer much support. She’d be achy all day, but spending the
day doing criminal research held far more appeal than the torture
of trying on clothes and shoes. Still, dressing the part of
Franco’s girlfriend was her job. And she always did her job.

Turning her attention back to the police reports,
she reread the most disturbing part. No one knew where DiGiacomo
was. She needed to call Logan, run some probables by him, get his
sense, but with the time difference and her morning appointments,
she’d have to wait. More time to clarify her thoughts then. She
refocused on her computer screen.

One week after DiGiacomo’s release he’d beaten his
wife, Franco’s ex-lover, leaving her with a broken arm and a broken
nose. Then he’d disappeared, about the same time Franco’s house had
been ransacked. A warrant had been issued for his arrest on assault
and parole violation.

Jo massaged her now-aching temples. After another
thorough read-through, she wrote an email to Detective Morelli
citing her suspicions and requesting a picture of DiGiacomo. None
of the reports contained his picture. She hit “send” then sent an
email to Logan and Harris telling them her findings, and that she’d
call Logan later. She rubbed her hands together. She had a lead, a
good one. They’d find DiGiacomo and Franco would be safe.

<><><>

Clothes, shoes, handbags, lingerie were strewn all
over the bed and on the desk and chairs in the large guest bedroom.
Sheesh. What was she going to do with all this stuff? The sight
made Jo dizzy. Franco had been more than generous, giving her his
credit card and free rein to buy whatever she’d wanted. Despite
that, she’d tried to hold back, to be frugal. But Mitzi would have
none of it. Acting like a fairy godmother on steroids, the older
woman and the personal shopper at Neiman Marcus had dragged Jo into
almost every department at the King of Prussia store.

Brewer had dropped her off forty-five minutes ago.
Jo expected Franco back from work any minute.

A ping on her phone alerted her to a message. She
grabbed her phone off the nightstand and looked down at the screen.
Yes! A message from Detective Morelli thanking her for the
information and promising to investigate the DiGiacomo lead
immediately. He’d included a picture of Salvatore DiGiacomo. She
narrowed her eyes at the screen. Her pulse spiked. This could be
their perp. She studied the mug shot of the intimidating guy with
the squiggly eyes and buzz cut. She wondered what his wife had seen
in him. She had no doubts what the woman had seen in Franco. Most
red-blooded women from eighteen to eighty would succumb to Franco’s
charms.
Even me
. Ignoring her wayward thoughts, she
forwarded the picture to Logan and Harris.

A few minutes later, her phone rang. Harris. “Hey,
man, are you here?”

“We’re outside.”

Jo raced down the stairs and disengaged the security
alarm.

The front door opened and Franco slipped in.
Although it was Saturday, Franco had put in a full day at work, and
then some. At her insistence, his full security force had been in
the building too. It was close to seven o’clock now. The
fun-at-all-costs playboy she’d seen at family gatherings was
nothing like the man she was coming to know.

“How was your shopping trip?” he asked, his intense
gaze on her. Tension arced between them like an electrically
charged summer storm.

“We got a lot of stuff.”

“Let me see it.” He smiled that wicked smile of his
and leaned toward her until only a whisper separated them. He
brushed back strands of her hair from her face. “I missed you.”

The huskiness of his voice and the desire that
gleamed from his eyes were almost her undoing. She swayed toward
him, wanting to melt into the security and peace of his arms. The
flash of triumph in his eyes shot her with a cold dose of reality
and she stepped back, folding her arms across her chest as
protection from her longings.

A mask seemed to slip over his face. The moment was
lost. A twinge of regret settled in her chest.

She turned and walked up the stairs. He reset the
alarm and followed her.

When they got to her room, he looked over to the bed
where clothes covered the beige down comforter. “I see you had a
good day.”

“Mitzi and the store’s personal shopper were more
than helpful. I think they both got a vicarious thrill out of
selecting all these clothes.”

“I’m sure they did.” He strode to the bed and began
sorting through the garments, glancing at her and putting some to
the side. Feeling suddenly disconcerted, she stood straighter,
ignoring the hammering in her chest. Finally he picked up a green
silk wrap dress with a low neckline. “This will look perfect on
you. Get dressed. We go out in an hour.”

“Wait a minute.” She put a hand on her hip and
glared at him. “Where do you get off ordering me around like that?
You need to run your plans by me ahead of time, and I don’t mean an
hour before. I’ll choose my own clothes. Where are you planning to
go?”

He chuckled. “Jo, you are too much.” Moving closer,
he touched her chin with his fingers and tilted her head until
their eyes met. “I don’t mean to order you around. I’m used to
issuing orders all day at work. Sometimes it’s hard to shift gears.
Please wear the dress. For me. It matches your eyes. We’re going to
a booksigning at a wine shop. I’d forgotten until my assistant
reminded me about it today.”

BOOK: Franco's Fortune (Redemption Book 2)
5.99Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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