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Authors: Loren Teague

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BOOK: The Italian Affair
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The last time she and Rick had both attempted to eat out, the killer had been waiting across the road, ready to shoot them. Could the killer be waiting there for her again? Tension coiled in her stomach at the thought. He could reach her any time he wanted. He’d proved that already.

She lifted her chin defiantly as she surveyed herself in the mirror. Let him. She’d be ready.

Rick assured her that everything would be fine. ‘No one knows where we are heading. I’ve got security men checking our route out beforehand. They’ll be watching us closely. Some are in plain clothes. Others are in uniform.’

‘What about the café?’ she asked.

‘There are only two doors at the front. No other entrances. So the security guards can easily keep an eye on us.’

‘Was that why you chose it?’

‘No,’ he replied honestly. ‘I knew it was your favourite café. Your grandfather told me.’ He hesitated slightly. ‘He mentioned you and Maria used to go there often.’

She wondered what else her grandfather might have told him.

 

Once again Rick chose to use the unobtrusive Toyota instead of the Ferrari. The rear window had been repaired. The café was situated on Rocks Road, alongside the sea. Known for the best seafood in town, it was popular with locals and tourists alike. The café also had a breathtaking view of the Cut – the entrance to Nelson harbour. In the distance a white lighthouse stood along the boulder bank.

When they walked in, the staff greeted them warmly. ‘We’ve reserved you a table by the front window,’ said the head waiter, showing them to their seats.

‘Good,’ answered Rick. He had asked for that. Facing the sea meant no sniper could position themselves to take a shot at Gina.

The waiter handed them the menu, and brought a jug of water and two glasses then left them alone while they settled in.

‘Nice place,’ remarked Rick, leaning back in the chair.
‘We’re lucky to get a table. It’s usually very busy on a Saturday.’ Gina looked around the café, noticing the place was filling up. ‘Do you think the murderer is watching us?’

‘Possibly,’ he replied, thoughtfully. ‘Realistically, he could be anywhere.’

She skimmed the faces in the café. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine one of them being the man they were looking for. ‘If it’s Jason, he could be in disguise. But I am sure I would recognize him.’

‘And if it’s Dani Russo?’

She shook her head. ‘It’s been years since I’ve seen him. I wouldn’t know him at all. Then again, it might be neither of them. It could be someone I’ve never even met.’ She paused slightly. ‘I don’t want to spend my whole life wondering, waiting for him to make a move. I can’t live like that.’

‘You won’t.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘My gut feeling. Plus his
modus operandi
.’

‘What do you think he will do?’

‘I don’t know. But he left you red roses. That tells us something: it’s his signature.’

She frowned. ‘What do you mean signature?’

‘Sometimes killers leave something that has meaning for them. And for the victim.’

She frowned. ‘But red roses – doesn’t that mean love?’

‘Possibly.’

She thought about the colour. ‘It could mean blood. He’s out for revenge. It
is
a vendetta.’

‘It’s starting to look that way.’

And that made Gina wonder. She took a sip of water. Then she heard someone call her name. Startled she looked at Rick. His gaze met hers. ‘Easy now,’ he murmured. She saw his hand slide under his jacket. ‘Someone’s coming your way.’

Slowly, she turned to see the chef, dressed in white trousers and shirt, make his way down the aisle, a bottle of wine under his arm.
He stopped in front of her and placed the bottle on the table.

‘With our compliments,
s’il vous plaît
,’ he said with a heavy French accent. ‘In memory of your sister, eh?’

A lump stuck in her throat as her hand reached out to touch one of the finest Chardonnays, produced in the region.

‘Thanks, Pierre. It’s very thoughtful of you.’ The chef’s warm brown eyes were full of compassion. He’d always had a soft spot for Maria, she remembered.

His acknowledgment was a sympathetic smile and a nod of his head before he turned tail and headed back to his domain in the kitchen. The head waiter and the rest of the staff were speechless.

‘I feel so honoured,’ she whispered. ‘Pierre never comes out of the kitchen.’

Eventually, the chatter around them resumed to normal.

‘Maria knew Pierre’s daughter. They were good friends,’ explained Gina.

‘Sometimes tragedy can bring out the best in people.’

‘Or the worst,’ – thinking of her own behaviour at the beach. Shame washed over her. She might not agree to Rick being hired as a bodyguard but that didn’t excuse her bad behaviour. ‘I really am sorry about what happened at the beach. It’s been on my mind ever since.’

‘Consider it payback for when we were kids,’ he mused.

‘Oh, you mean that fallout we had in the sandpit that your father told us about.’

He nodded.

She smiled. ‘I guess that makes me feel a little better.’

‘Besides, most people understand what grief can do,’ he said.

‘Do you?’

He pursed his mouth. ‘Probably better than most. Being a cop has given me insight into how people react. It’s proved useful at times.’ His gaze held hers again. ‘But how about we concentrate on what we’re going to eat. I’m starved.’

‘Changing the topic of conversation?’

He gave a low laugh. ‘It wasn’t intentional; I really am hungry.’

‘Huh, typical. A man always thinks of his stomach first,’ she said lightly.

‘Not always. There are other things a man thinks about.’

‘Hmm, I won’t argue with you on that one.’

‘Good.’ His eyes glinted. ‘Because I’d probably win.’

Her chin lifted. ‘That sounds like a challenge.’

‘Take it any way you like.’

She couldn’t help but smile. ‘OK. A truce. Let’s order.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ Rick studied the menu, raising his eyebrows. ‘Fancy prices for fancy dishes. Must admit, if I’m not eating Italian, I’m more of a steak and chips man. But….’ He paused, looking impressed. ‘Mussels in garlic sound tempting.’

‘They’re Rosselini mussels,’ she informed him. ‘All the seafood in this café is supplied by us.’

‘In that case, mussels it is.’ He added quickly, ‘And I’m paying. I was the one who asked you out to dinner, remember?’

‘That was the first time. This time it’s different,’ she argued. ‘Besides, I can afford it. And I did read your contract with my grandfather. It states all expenses are paid. Consider this one of them.’

‘No,’ he said firmly. She detected the steely note in his voice. ‘This is one time you’re not getting your own way.’

‘Most men would have taken advantage of my money,’ she pointed out.

‘You know the wrong men,’ he said drily.

He had a point, she thought.

While he was reading the menu, she studied him closer. Unexpectedly, his gaze lifted and met hers in a questioning look. ‘Something wrong?’

‘No … no … I was just thinking,’ she murmured. A shock rippled through her making her realize how attracted to him she was. She lowered her gaze quickly, trying to ignore her pulse zooming skyward again.

The waiter poured them both a glass of the fine honey-coloured Chardonnay, then took their order.

Gina lifted her glass. ‘Here’s to life.’

‘Yeah … that it keeps getting better.’

‘For a PI, you always seem to be so positive. How come?’

‘Must be in the genes,’ he responded. ‘Being Italian might have something to do with it. Live and let live.’

‘So what do you do in your spare time?’ she asked, curious. ‘Or do you spend most of your time working?’

‘I’m a surfing junkie. I hang out at the beach any chance I can.’

‘At long last, one of your vices.’

‘Surfing isn’t a vice, more like an addiction,’ he mused. ‘Surfing keeps me fit, psychologically and physically. You should try it sometime. I’ll give you a few lessons.’

‘Why, that almost sounds as if you’re asking me out.’

‘I guess I am,’ he replied steadily, holding her gaze, ‘but it will have to be after I finish my contract with your family. Then we’ll be on equal ground.’

His blue eyes held a hint of something else, though of what she wasn’t quite sure. She decided to push further.

She said slowly, ‘You mean, when you’re not an employee?’

‘Exactly.’

Then, because she couldn’t help herself, ‘I’ll be holding you to that. You won’t forget, will you?’

Suddenly she recalled that only a few days ago she couldn’t wait to have him fired. Now she was practically arranging a date with him.

He chuckled. ‘Somehow, I don’t think I’d forget a date with a beautiful woman.’

‘I’m not beautiful … my nose is too long and my mouth is too wide.’

His expression turned serious. ‘You’re wrong … I think you’re beautiful.’ His voice was low with a sexy inflection making her think of silken sheets, champagne and Rick Caruso all at once.

‘Compliments will get you everywhere,’ she said softly. ‘Come to think of it, that’s the first compliment you’ve paid me.’ Certainly, it gave her a taste of pleasure, however fleeting.

‘Actually, I can think of many compliments.’ His eyes held a teasing light. ‘But I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea.’

‘How about if I got the right idea?’

‘Then we’d need to be very careful, wouldn’t we?’

Yes, very
careful.

Her pulse fluttered again.

The waitress arrived with the meal. In between mouthfuls, Rick entertained her with humorous stories of his time in the police.

She angled her chin at him. ‘Sounds to me you didn’t get much time to do any policing, you were too busy enjoying yourself.’

‘Oh, there was plenty time for that.’

‘Has anyone ever told you you’re a good storyteller?’

‘Only my sister’s kids, Ben and Sam,’ he replied with a grin. ‘They’re both dynamite.’

‘You’re full of surprises, Caruso.’

‘Yeah? You’ve told me that before.’

‘Have I?’ It had slipped her mind.

‘You’re not quite what I expected either,’ he said softly. His gaze held hers.

She was curious to know what he meant. ‘Care to explain?’

‘Some of the things you do. Even say.’

He was getting too close, far too close, she thought suddenly. She picked up the menu and tried to focus on the words. She looked up. ‘Dessert?’

‘Anything you recommend?’

She said wickedly, ‘Death by Chocolate.’

His mouth twitched. ‘Sounds a nice way to die. I’ll take the risk.’

Later on, as she lay in bed thinking about the evening, Rick’s image hovered around her. She recalled the clean cut of his jaw, the deep blue of his eyes which changed colour so readily, depending on his mood. Tonight he’d been good company. Different somehow. Or
maybe it had been her. How she had responded to him. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t be her protector forever. She would never allow it.

But for once, she wished he’d stick around a little longer.

 

Rick Caruso couldn’t sleep, so in the end he pulled on his jeans and wandered outside on to the deck. He leaned against the wooden rail gazing at the dark ocean in front of him. The night was warm, humid. Fresh sea air entered his lungs and helped clear his thoughts.

This assignment was becoming more difficult than he had expected. And he knew why: he was becoming emotionally involved. Damn it – it was something he hadn’t expected. This had never happened to him before. Even now, as he thought of their evening together at the café, Gina’s laughter was still with him. And yet, he still couldn’t figure her out. There were times she came across as lonely and vulnerable and then she’d do something that completely dispelled that notion. He suspected she had put up a barrier between herself and the world. Hadn’t he done the same thing after he’d been injured in the police force? For a long time he lay in that hospital bed knowing that the officer he was working with on that fateful night had died. He hadn’t told Gina that his partner that night was a woman and that he’d been dating her. Yeah, he knew all about survival. All about guilt. He was the one who was still alive. As for Gina, she’d lost her parents at an early age, had a disastrous marriage, and now the loss of her only sister in tragic circumstances. Yet, she still carried on bravely. Sure, she had her moments of grief. She’d spun out a few times. He couldn’t blame her. Yet, he couldn’t help but be impressed with her courage and spirited nature.

Maybe being one of the rich Rosselinis wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. They had their problems just like everyone else.

He sighed. In a few days his contract with the Rosselini family would come under review. All the recommendations to do with security had been carried out. It was possible Mr Rosselini might not renew his contract. What would happen to Gina if he didn’t? He
hoped like hell the police had made some progress with the case. It made him sick to the stomach to think somebody might harm her. He pulled himself up sharply. What the hell was he thinking?

He had a business to run. Clients to see to. Most of all, a life of his own. Still, he had hired security guards on the property around the clock which would be permanent. He only hoped it would be enough. First thing tomorrow, he’d see Mr Rosselini and finalize the long term security arrangements. With a killer on the loose, it would pay to double check everything.

Deep in thought, Rick was sitting outside. According to the latest update from Dave Brougham, the police were continuing to search for Jason Gallagher. Danni Russo had been taken down to the station for questioning but they’d had to release him due to lack of evidence. Rick had racked his brains trying to think of a motive and as far as he could see there wasn’t one, unless someone held a grudge. That meant either Russo or Gallagher.

Leaning back in his chair, he concentrated on a power boat vibrating through the water as it raced towards the horizon. The wind gusted again, fresh and salty, while white gulls screamed above in protest. He relished some time on his own, if only for a few minutes. It was a habit he’d got into when he’d been a cop, and somehow it had never left him.

‘Good morning,’ said Gina, her voice light and fresh, as she walked out. A scent of lilac floated through the air as she passed.

‘Morning,’ he grunted, purposely missing out the word, ‘good’. He rubbed his unshaven jaw. Mornings had never been the best part of the day for him – not until he’d had at least two cups of strong coffee. He’d probably overdone the alcohol the night before, and he’d broken his cardinal rule of not drinking when he was working.

He surveyed Gina as she leant on the balustrade of the deck facing the sea. She was wearing stretch white shorts, emphasizing a part of her anatomy that definitely had all the right proportions.
Her halter neck top revealed bare shoulders, her skin gleaming copper as she had obviously rubbed something over them. Her hair was still damp from her shower.

‘You’re not wearing your sun hat,’ he remarked.

She whirled around. ‘I know. I’ve misplaced it.’ She shrugged. ‘I probably left it on the beach somewhere.’ She turned her face to the sun. ‘Those rays are strong at this time of the year. Even though I’ve inherited my mother’s olive skin, I can still burn.’

‘There’s no atmospheric pollution in this part of the world,’ he said. ‘The sun’s more intense in the southern hemisphere.’ Rick slid his own bush hat across the table to her. ‘There you go.’

She plonked it on her head. ‘It’s a bit big, but thanks.’

‘It suits you,’ he remarked, thinking she’d probably look good in anything along with that killer babe smile.

The wind gusted and the hat lifted into the air and spun outwards like a frisbee. Gina rose to her feet to retrieve it and covered the distance in a few steps. But Rick moved faster and reached it first. She bumped into him and his arm shot out to steady her. She tried to snatch the hat from him, but he had already swapped it to his other hand. Before he knew it, his arms had circled her. She looked up at him. Neither of them spoke. One hand pressed in the small of her back brought her even closer. If he had hesitated before, he didn’t now. His head bent forward while his other hand slid upwards to curve around her neck.

‘Gina,’ he murmured.

‘Uh huh,’ she replied softly. Then, before he knew it, his mouth was hard upon hers. The softness of her lips challenged as much as it rewarded. He could feel his blood starting to pump.

It was Gina who pulled away first. Shock floored her eyes. ‘Do you make a habit of kissing your clients?’

He flinched. ‘No, I don’t.’ His voice was calm, too calm, and if she had known him better she would have realized that underneath he was as shaken as she was. Using his well-honed control he’d developed as a police officer, his blue eyes narrowed on her face 
while his hands fell to his side. He wanted her to rage at him, tell him he’d overstepped the line. Even tell him he was fired again and he’d accept it this time. Instead, he got indifference. It cut deep.

‘A kiss is just a kiss. And they’re all the same, one way or another,’ she said coolly.

His jaw tightened. ‘Liar.’

She started to turn away. He grabbed her wrist. ‘It won’t happen again,’ he told her through gritted teeth. ‘I never make the same mistake twice.’

‘Neither do I,’ she retaliated. She pulled away hard and he had no choice but to let her go. ‘Gina …’ he called out, but she ignored him and carried on walking. He cursed under his breath.

Once inside, Gina sought refuge in her bedroom and thought about what had happened. Oh God … she had let herself fall into the kiss. But what she hadn’t reckoned on was her willing response. And yet she knew perfectly well, no one had ever kissed her in that way, not even her ex-husband. She couldn’t deny how her body had betrayed her at his touch. But it was only a chemical attraction, she told herself sharply. Two people thrown together due to circumstances in a highly tense situation. There was no love or romance. How could there be? She’d cut herself off from men after the fiasco with her marriage. Those nightmare months of living with a man who’d abused her mind and her body had taken their toll.

Hadn’t she made a vow never to get involved again?

 

That private investigator was proving to be a problem. He had to get rid of him so he could get to Gina on her own.

Soon it would be dark. The watcher had thought of another plan the night before and knew it would work.

Within twenty minutes, he stood on the edge of the Caruso property. He slipped on his latex gloves and climbed over the half-erected fence. He moved silently past the row of olive trees planted when Mr Caruso had been a new immigrant from Italy. Silver-green leaves rustled with the night breeze. He was careful not to knock
over a stack of broken plant pots placed along an uneven path.

During the previous evening, after the workmen had left, he’d surveyed the property from the building site next door. Rick Caruso’s office and studio flat were situated in a small separate building. He made his way towards it. He tried the door, not expecting it to be open, but there was no harm in making sure before he assembled his variety of tools. He worked on the lock as carefully as possible, a trick he’d learned from a burglar he’d once met.

Once opened, he stepped through the doorway and shone his torch, keeping it on low beam. The light found a desk. That would do, he thought, opening one of the drawers. He stuffed the envelope inside. Perfect, he smiled. But he wasn’t ready to leave yet. His gaze travelled around the room, settling on the filing cabinet. Curious, he tried opening it, but it was locked. He turned ready to leave. A can rattled outside. He froze. Was it someone approaching? He couldn’t hear any footsteps. He moved forward slightly. Then he heard it: an unmistakable noise of cats wailing disturbing the peace of the night. Breathing a sigh of relief, he made for the door, his sneakers moving silently on the wooden floor. He shut the door behind him and locked it. No one would have guessed he’d even been in there. Keeping to the shadows, he quickly made his way back along the fence. By the time, he reached his car, he was gasping for breath. He flicked his wrist to look at his watch. It had only taken thirty minutes.

 

Since the incidence of the kiss, Rick noticed Gina had acted as if nothing had happened. He wasn’t fooled, but he had no choice but to act the same.

‘I’d like to take a drive up the coast. Can you take me?’ she asked politely.

‘Not today,’ said Rick, more abruptly than he meant to. ‘I’ll arrange for someone else to take you. I’m meeting your grandfather this afternoon to discuss the security arrangements before I leave.’

She arched a brow. ‘Leave?’

‘My contract is up in a few days.’ He hesitated. ‘Unless your grandfather decides to renew it.’

‘The killer hasn’t been caught,’ she reminded him.

‘I know.’

‘So tell me,’ she said slowly, ‘what exactly do you recommend for me, Mr Expert on security? Put me in chains so I can’t move from my flat? Rewrite my whole life plan even?’

He groaned. Could he really answer that without getting his face smacked? What he wanted to do was sweep her off her feet, carry her onto that soft silky bed in her room and slam the door behind him. Certainly thinking about it made him answer very tightly.

‘The security arrangements are for all of your family. Not just for you.’ He knew he sounded harsh, but he damned well couldn’t help it. He was only there to protect her, to fulfil his contract, and that was all.

He saw something in her eyes. Hurt. Damn it. He’d handled her request badly. All she had wanted to do was go for a drive – she hadn’t asked for the moon.

‘I might be able to take you,’ he amended. ‘But it would have to be tomorrow.’

‘Don’t bother,’ she threw at him, her eyes glinting. ‘I’m not that desperate.’

He had to put things right. To get things back on an even keel between them like it had been the previous night. ‘What happened before … when I kissed you….’ He took a deep breath. ‘The fault is all mine. I had no right. No right at all.’

She shrugged. ‘It doesn’t matter. Let’s forget it. It didn’t mean anything anyway.’

No way could he forget it. Nor did he want to. And he had a feeling that Gina thought the same in spite of her words. He was conscious of a rift opening up between them but he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

She moved closer. He had the urge to reach out, pull her close to
him. He squashed it flat. Get a grip, Caruso, he thought disgustedly.

‘There’s something about the sea that draws me,’ said Gina, her hair whipping around her face. ‘When I was a child, my father used to take me down to the beach to play in the sand.’

‘That’s what every father should do,’ he replied.

‘At the weekends, my parents would drive Maria and me in their convertible up the coast. We’d always stop for an ice cream. I used to have chocolate, and Maria strawberry. We’d sit on the rocks and watch the sea.’

The wistfulness in her voice almost tempted him to cancel his appointment with Mr Rosselini until the evening. They’d have plenty of time if they left now. He was just about to suggest it when he heard footsteps behind him. Two dark figures in police uniform appeared around the corner, a serious look on their face.

‘This is an unexpected visit,’ Rick said, recognizing the men. ‘Must be important.’

The tallest officer spoke first. ‘It is. Brougham wants you down at the station. Right now.’

‘You mean you want me to bring Ms Rosselini?’ Rick clarified.

He shook his head. ‘No he doesn’t want to see her; he only wants to see you.’

Rick frowned. ‘Why? What’s all this about?’

The two police officers swapped uneasy glances. ‘We can’t say at the moment.’

‘So what if I refuse?’

‘Well, I guess we’ll have no choice but to arrest you.’

Rick exhaled sharply. Something was up. ‘I see. That serious?’

Both men nodded.

No point in delaying, he thought. If Brougham wanted him that badly, he’d better oblige. He turned to Gina. ‘I’ll alert security I’m out for a while. If you leave the property, make sure you take a security man with you. If there are any problems call me on my mobile straight away.’ He grabbed his leather jacket. ‘OK, let’s get this over and done with.’

It was odd sitting in the back of a patrol car being escorted to headquarters. How many times had he driven in the front seat with a suspect in the back? Probably thousands, he thought ironically. The ride gave him time to think about what had happened earlier on between himself and Gina. He cursed himself furiously for stepping over a boundary which he had convinced himself earlier had been set firmly in place. If he was honest with himself, one part of him wanted to make love to her, the other was still on duty. Maybe later on there might be time for a friendly date as he’d promised, but that was as far as it should go. She was much too complicated. And yet, her unpredictability and depth added to her attraction.

He leaned back against the seat and forced his thoughts to why Brougham wanted to see him so badly. If it had been anything to do with Gina, he would have rung first to alert him.

Rick surveyed the streets through the window. The shops had just opened for the day and already the traffic was heavy especially with the road works on the main highway. A red light forced them to stop to let pedestrians cross. Rick drummed his fingers on his knees impatiently.

When they reached the police station, Brougham was in a foul mood. Surrounded by files and a desk covered in papers, he was busy talking to a colleague. Rick took a seat opposite him until he had finished.

‘You look like you’ve been up all night.’ Rick commented.

Brougham took a swig of coffee from his mug. ‘Yeah, I guess you could say that. We’ve had two burglaries, one arson attack and a runaway teenager. Even worse, we’re not getting anywhere with the Rosselini case. Forensic didn’t find anything in Gina’s apartment. Not even a fingerprint on the roses.’

Rick decided to cut to the chase. ‘Why do you want to see me so urgently?’

Brougham drew his chair in. ‘We had an anonymous phone call early this morning informing us some drugs were stashed in your
office. We sent a police officer around to check it out.’

Rick stared at him in disbelief. ‘Drugs? You’re kidding me.’

Brougham grimaced. ‘We found cocaine. Any idea how it might have got there?’

‘No. I damn well haven’t. I don’t know anything about it.’ He paused slightly. ‘You realize someone must have planted it.’

Brougham face looked thoughtful. ‘So who else has access to your office?’

‘Just my parents. But there’s no way they’d get involved in anything like that. For a start my father is still in hospital. He’s got a broken leg.’

Brougham wrote something on the pad in front of him. ‘Anyone else working at your place?’

‘Only my cousin Mark. But there’s no way he’d be involved either.’ He briefly outlined what had happened to his father and why his cousin, Mark, was working for them. ‘He’s helping out with a few chores. I trust him completely.’

Brougham looked up. ‘He wasn’t at your place when we went around this morning. We’ll need his address to interview him.’

Rick gave him the information. ‘You realize someone is trying to frame me.’

‘Any idea who?’

Rick thought for a moment. ‘No. Some criminal I put away in the past maybe.’

‘If I didn’t know you so well, I’d arrest you,’ said Brougham drily. ‘Anyway, just a few more questions. Then you can go.’

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