Love Inspired Suspense October 2015 #1 (10 page)

Who do I have now?

Sonia would say Rikki had the Lord. And she knew that. Rikki had certainly done her share of praying lately. The faith her mother had instilled in her had helped her through this past week.

And you have Blain.

No, she'd thought she had Blain but after all of his bluster about her being honest, he'd withheld one important thing from her. His father's career as a county sheriff.

Why? Was he as angry at his father as she wanted to be with hers?

Her cell buzzed, causing her to toss aside the book she'd been trying to read. Pushing at the bed covers, she stared at the caller ID.

Blain.

She almost threw the phone across the room but Rikki wondered if something else had happened. It was getting late so why else would he call?

She tapped the screen. “Yes?”

“I know you're angry—”

“You don't know me at all.”

“Look, Rikki, it's complicated.”

“I've heard that excuse before.”

“We need to talk but not over the phone.”

Did he think her cell was bugged?

Just the thought scared Rikki and made her angry all over again.

“I can't leave,” she reminded him. “Not even to go out and get some fresh air.”

“I know. And it's better if I don't come out there.”

“So we can't talk to each other. That might be for the best, don't you think?”

She ended the call, which should have brought her a certain measure of satisfaction. Instead, Rikki curled up in her bed and stared at the sliver of the moon she saw caught between the scurrying clouds high up in the winter sky.

She was still all alone.

TEN

B
lain stared at the phone for a few minutes.

He guessed he deserved a hang-up or two. He hadn't trusted Rikki in the beginning and now that he did trust her, now that he wanted to help her and get to know her and see her, she'd turned on him.

Or maybe she'd never trusted him from the start.

Alvanetti. She was an Alvanetti. He needed to readjust his way of thinking and stick to the facts. So instead of calling her back, he headed to the police station.

He'd talk to someone else familiar with this case.

The suspect.

By the time he got to the station, a slow cold rain had set in. A winter chill covered the night. Before he could get in out of the rain, a figure stepped out of the shadows.

“Detective, got a minute?”

Blain turned to find Santo Alvanetti standing there in an expensive-looking black wool coat.

“Can I help you, Mr. Alvanetti?” Blain asked, impatient to get to the suspect. And surprised to see Rikki's hostile brother here.

Santo's dark scowl twisted around his face. “I'd like to talk to you, yes.”

“Come in,” Blain said. He might be able to get inside Santo's head and see if Rikki's brother could shed some light on things. But an Alvanetti being in such close proximity to the shooter they'd captured earlier today didn't set well with Blain. Santo could be here trying to warn that man to stay quiet or else.

Blain took Santo into a small conference room and shut the door. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No.” Santo took off his coat and pushed his hand through his dark hair. “I'm worried about my family.”

Blain sat down. “Yes, I could tell that this morning.”

Santo's scowl went even blacker. “You think I was cruel to my sister?”

“You could say that. You and your father seem to like to shift blame.”

Santo leaned forward and tapped a finger on the table. “My father and I have no involvement in this. We have ways of doing our own investigations, though.”

“Don't interfere with this case,” Blain said. “You'll regret it.”

“Don't threaten me,” Santo said. “You'll regret it.”

Blain leaned back and stared him down. “Why are you here?”

“I don't like that someone managed to shoot at my sister and kill one of my men.” He shrugged. “Our place out on the lake has always been a haven of sorts.”

“Yeah, like impenetrable.”

“But someone breached it today,” Santo said, his dark face etched in anger and weariness.

“Nobody likes that.” Blain got out his pocket notebook. “Mind if I take notes?”

“Please do,” Santo replied. “I have nothing to hide.”

Blain let that go on by for now. “Do you have any ideas on who might be after Rikki?”

“Here's what I know,” Santo said. “We run a legitimate business. We import antiques and estate jewelry and run a vast warehouse and online site. Someone out there must want something and they think Rikki has that something.”

“But she doesn't use your services, right?”

Santo stared down at the table. “Yes and no. She uses some warehouses in Miami and Tallahassee and some of the pieces she buys could have possibly been shipped through our site.”

“Does she know this?”

“No and she has no reason to know this. And I'd like to keep it that way. Rikki is stubborn and smart and proud. We can't control who orders what from us or how it ships once it's out there in various establishments and venues. But if someone smuggled something into a shipment and she received it, she could be in danger. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” Blain jotted notes. “Are you willing to let me go over your shipment records? I'd have to ask her about her clients again and also about her vendors.”

Santo stood. “I don't mind helping you find this criminal. But I want it clear—our family is clean now. I have children, Detective. I'm not like my father. I just need you to know that. I won't be harassed over this.”

Blain didn't plan on harassing Santo but he would question him over and over if needed. “Why were you so angry at Rikki this morning?”

“Lots going on. My brother Victor's been calling, wanting answers, too. Or at least, he called earlier today. Now I can't get him to return my calls.”

“He needs to call us. We've tried to find him and he seems to be just as elusive as the victim's missing brother.”

“Victor keeps to himself,” Santo said. “I told him what I knew but he was fishing for information. Probably concerned about the bank accounts.”

“Should he be concerned?” Blain asked.

A blank expression dropped down across Santo's olive-skinned face. “Yes, since he hasn't contributed to the family coffers a lot.”

“Are
you
worried about money?”

Santo tugged on his coat. “I'd had a bad morning and as I told you, I won't be harassed over this. I've got enough to deal with right now. My wife left me.” With that, he shook Blain's hand and walked to the door. “Don't disappoint me, Detective. Our family doesn't need this right now. Make it go away.”

Blain stared after Santo, resenting how the entire family managed to issue orders left and right. Santo Alvanetti seemed like a hard man to deal with, a man who could be trying to cover his own secrets. Maybe his wife had had enough, too. Had Santo taken the company to a new level—a legitimate business level? Or had he somehow put everyone he loved in danger?

If so, he could be playing the locals the way his father always had. But Blain wasn't one to get played. He tried calling Hunter Lawson again. Hunter could dig into these types of things in a discreet way.

After leaving Hunter a message, he put his notebook away and started for the door.

His phone buzzed.

“What now?”

When he saw Rikki's number, he spun around and went back into the conference room. “Hello.”

“Blain, my father's not home. He left a while ago and he's not home. One of the guards just let me know. He didn't take anyone with him and he hasn't checked in. I'm really worried.”

“I'm on my way.” He didn't stop to consider she could have called someone from the sheriff's office. He didn't stop to consider anything except that he needed to help Rikki.

His friends' warnings might be right.

He could be in way over his head.

* * *

Rikki wondered how much more she'd have to deal with. Where was Franco? Her father never left without a driver. He rarely drove himself anywhere. Why start now?

She'd left messages with her brother Santo, thinking maybe Papa had gone to the warehouse out near the river. But Santo wasn't answering his phone.

She paced the den in sweatpants and a big sweater. After checking on her mother and telling Peggy what was going on, she'd called Blain. Although some of the guards had gone to look for Franco, Rikki's heart told her to alert Blain since this was just too much of a coincidence after this morning.

Had the same people who were after her tried to take her father?

She heard the door swinging open and turned from the fire to find Blain hurrying up the hallway.

He stopped, his eyes meeting hers. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Rikki didn't think. She ran into his arms. “I'm so worried. I...I shouldn't have called you but...I trust you.”

There. She'd admitted it. In spite of the chasm that seemed to stretch between them, she did trust Blain. But she had to add one other thing. “And I think my father trusts you, too.”

“It's okay,” he said, standing back, his hands on her elbows. “Could be nothing or it could be important, considering everything that's happened so far.”

She stepped back. “That's what I was thinking. So what can we do?”

“I've alerted the sheriff's department and I've got a couple of patrols searching the roads between here and town. Did your father indicate where he might be going?”

“No. I didn't even know he'd left.” She shook her head. “We actually had a good talk this afternoon and then after he had dinner, he went back to his office. I sat with my mother for a while and then went to my room to read.”

“Who's with her now?”

“Peggy, her night nurse.”

“Trustworthy?”

“You had her vetted. What do you think?”

“I need to know what you think.”

“Peggy is solid. She's one of the best people I know.”

“Okay. Let's start in your father's office. Maybe he got a call or left some notes.”

“I'll take you in there.”

Blain followed her down the hall to her father's big study on the opposite side of the house from the bedroom wing. The curtains were open to a view of the boat dock and the water beyond. A lone security light shimmered in the rain.

Blain went to the glass doors centered between the windows. “Locked tight. No sign of forced entry.”

“That rules out abduction,” Rikki said, relief washing over her. “He could have gone to the warehouse but he would have let someone drive him.”

“So we think he left on his own. Unless someone called him and forced him to leave alone.”

Her heart hit hard again, ramping up her pulse. “I'm afraid he was involved in an accident.” She started searching her father's desk. “Blain, what if...if he's hurt or worse?”

“Hey, we'll figure it out,” he said, coming to help her. “I'll talk to the guards and see if they know what time he left.”

“It had to have been after eight,” she said, her hand going over the stack of papers near the phone. “But it's past ten now and he's usually in bed around nine thirty. I checked his room next to my mother's. His bed is still made.”

“Let's keep looking,” Blain said.

Rikki lifted invoices and antique magazines, a stack of opened mail and several Christmas cards.

Then she saw a scribbled note that contained one word.
Victor.

“Your brother?”

Rikki nodded, noticing Blain's interest. “He rarely calls. He's been in Europe for years and...he and my father are not close anymore.”

“Do you think he called your father?”

“Maybe. We've been trying to let him know about mother's condition.” She kept glancing over the papers. “If Victor called, he could be in trouble or he could have run out of money. He hasn't bothered to call and check on our mother very often, either.” Victor wasn't the worrying type unless it involved him.

“I'll see what else I can find out about Victor's whereabouts,” Blain said. “Meantime, I'll check with the guards and then I'm going out to search for your father myself.”

“I'm going with you,” Rikki said. At his disapproving look, she added, “I can't sit here worrying, Blain.”

* * *

“This could be another bad idea,” Blain said as they hurried out of the house. “Why don't you listen to me and stay here?”

“I'm too upset,” Rikki said. “If you don't let me go with you I'll make one of the men take me or I'll go by myself.”

“Get in the car,” Blain said, his mind absorbing this latest turn of events. He'd have to watch her or she'd bolt. He'd talked to two guards and they both agreed it wasn't like Franco to just leave on his own.

“The old man's been acting strange for a few weeks now,” one of the burly men told Blain. “He's always on the phone or mumbling to himself. He's a mess over Miss Sonia being so sick.”

The other guard had nodded. “And now his only daughter being attacked. Something's up. Things are just weird around here.”

Blain agreed with that understatement. He had to consider the Alvanetti family could be in some kind of turf war with another group. Santo had come to see him and mentioned Victor had been calling. Could their brother be involved with some sort of smuggling ring?

Blain didn't have the resources to search the entire state for competitors but he might have to do just that. He'd put in another call to Hunter Lawson but he had yet to hear from the Okie. The private detective would be an asset right about now.

Once they were on the road, he laid down some ground rules. “You have to do what I say, Rikki. If I stop this vehicle to search along the way, I need you to stay with me. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Or stay in the car.”

“Okay. But...I don't want to stay in the car.”

Blain let out a sigh. “You are one of the most stubborn women I've ever met.”

“I'm assertive, not stubborn. Where are you going?”

“To the Alvanetti Shipping Warehouse first. You said your father might have gone there.”

“Possibly.” She stared out into the night. “But it's not like him to go out at night without a driver. His eyes aren't all that good from what I can tell.”

Blain wanted to ask her more but she'd only been back around Franco for a week now. Did she really know anything more about her family than he did?

When they reached the warehouse, Rikki shouted and pointed. “There's his car.”

Blain breathed a sigh of relief, but this wasn't over yet. “The whole place is dark,” he said. “I'm calling for backup just in case.”

“Good idea.” She didn't wait for him but got out of the car and started toward the front office doors.

Blain barely managed to catch her. “Rikki, stop. Think, okay? We have to approach with caution.”

She nodded. “I'm sorry.”

He called for help and then pulled her close. “Stay behind me or I'll lock you in the back of the car, understand?”

“Yes.”

Blain touched a hand to her hair. “And you should have worn a coat.”

“Let's go,” she said.

Blain tugged her to the car while he pulled out a flashlight. “No lights on. That can't be good.”

“We might not be able to get inside,” she whispered. “I can call my brother Santo.”