Triple Trouble (16 page)

Isabella flushed, pleased beyond measure. “I would love to have my work in your shop,” she said with heartfelt warmth. “But I can’t help but wonder if you’re hoping our connection through the Stocking Stitch will bring Roberto and me together.”

“Much as I’d love to see that happen, Isabella, I’ve given up hoping matchmaking efforts might succeed with Roberto,” Maria said, her expressive face serious. “I suspect he gave his heart away at some point in the past. I’m afraid he’s never gotten over whoever the woman was, and may never do so.”

“I’m so sorry, Maria.” Isabella instinctively reached out, her hand closing in swift sympathy over Maria’s where it clutched her purse.

“No need to apologize, my dear,” Maria said, her smile wistful. “If I thought matchmaking for Roberto would work, I’d try. But as it is…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed. “Be that as it may,” she said determinedly after a brief moment.

“I’m delighted you’re agreeable to my proposal. When can you drop by the shop and discuss the details?”

The two women spent several moments arranging a date before Maria was called away by Lily Fortune.

“I need to speak to you in private,” Lily murmured. She glanced about the crowded room before catching Maria’s arm and walking with her to the relative quiet of a corner.

Intrigued, Maria went willingly.

“What is it?” she asked when they had a small degree of privacy.

“I wanted to ask if you’ve learned anything new from the investigators about the fire that burned down the restaurant,” Lily said softly.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Maria said, just as quietly. “But José stays in touch with the fire department and asked the chief to contact us if there are any new developments. I’m assuming he’ll be in touch when he has any information. Why?

Have you heard something?”

Lily sighed. “I can’t help feeling the fires at Red and the Double Crown are related. I received a second anonymous note that said, ‘This one wasn’t an accident either.’”

“You didn’t tell me about the notes.” Maria caught her breath. “What did the first one say?”

Lily glanced around, assuring there was no one near enough to hear their whispered conversation. “‘One of the Fortunes is not who you think,’” she quoted. Maria frowned. “That’s terribly vague. What do you suppose it means?”

“I have no idea.” Lily’s face was strained. “At first I thought someone was planning to blackmail the family. But then the fires happened—and the second note arrived.”

She bit her lip. “I’m afraid someone is going to be seriously hurt.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Maria said with emphasis. “It’s a miracle someone wasn’t injured already in one of the two fires.”

“My family has hired Cindy’s son, Ross, to investigate. He wants me to call in the police, but I dread the publicity that would surely follow.”

“I can’t say I blame you,” Maria agreed. “But you mustn’t take chances, Lily. You live alone out on the Double Crown. I think you should hire protection.”

“You mean an armed guard of some sort?” Lily asked, clearly startled by the suggestion.

“Absolutely,” Maria said stoutly. “What if this anonymous person decides to set fire to someone’s house next? And with you living alone…well, it’s just too dangerous.”

Lily shook her head. “No, I refuse to give in to intimidation. I have staff at the ranch and I’ll warn them to be more alert for anything that seems unusual. But I’m not going to let this person, whomever it is, terrorize me.”

“Then promise me you’ll be careful, very careful,” Maria admonished.

“I will.” Lily smiled at her friend. “And if I’m afraid for any reason to stay alone, I promise I’ll show up on your doorstep, bags in hand, and ask to use your guest room.”

“José and I will be delighted to have you,” Maria said promptly, and enfolded Lily in a warm hug.

As Maria and Lily made plans, Nick and Charlene were scraping tomato and guacamole off Jessie’s blue jumper.

“I’ll take her to the restroom and sluice the rest of it off her face and hands,” Nick said. “Are you okay here with these two?”

Charlene glanced at Jenny and Jackie. They were chortling, waving their white linen napkins and stretching to reach a bowl of guacamole and chips just out of reach.

“We’re fine.” She laughed and moved the green guacamole across the table, out of Jenny’s reach. “If they try to eat the table, I’ll call 9-1-1.”

Nick grinned, laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “You might want to put that on speed dial.”

He headed for the bathroom, glancing over his shoulder just before he left the room. Two of Maria’s daughters and their husbands were standing next to Charlene, talking animatedly.

There was a lot to be said on occasion for a large family, he thought. When he left the rest room, Jessie’s face and hands scrubbed clean and dried, he’d barely entered the dining room when his cousin, Frannie, stopped him.

“Nick!” She caught him in a warm hug. He returned the affectionate embrace onearmed, keeping Jessie from being sandwiched between them by tucking her higher against his shoulder.

“Hey, Frannie.” He smiled down at her. “Are you solo tonight or is Lloyd here?”

“Not only Lloyd, but also Josh and his girlfriend, Lyndsey,” she said. “You look better than ever, Nick. What have you been doing with yourself?”

Given that sexual frustration rode him hard nearly every hour of the day, Nick was taken aback at Frannie’s comment. “Must be my girls,” he said, retrieving his balance with quick aplomb. He chucked Jessie under the chin and she grinned at him. “Is that true, Jessie?”

“Your girls?” Frannie repeated, clearly stunned. “I didn’t know you had children, Nick. When did this happen?”

“I’m their temporary guardian. This is Jessie and those…” he pointed across the room “…are Jessie’s identical sisters, Jackie and Jenny.”

Frannie stared at him, eyes wide. “Tell me how this happened.”

By the time Nick repeated his story, Frannie was tickling Jessie’s fingers, trying to get her to accept a hug. But Jessie clung to Nick, although she giggled when Frannie made a comical face.

“…And that’s the short version of the whole story,” Nick concluded. “You’ve done the parenting thing, Frannie, do you have any expert advice for me?”

Frannie’s smile faded. “I’m afraid I’m the last person you’d want advice from, Nick. Neither Lloyd nor I approve of Lyndsey, our son’s latest girlfriend. I think Josh is too young to be so involved. I wish they would both date other people and gain more experience before they get serious. But they’re so intense about each other.”

“If I remember correctly,” Nick said gently, “I think you were around Josh’s age when you married Lloyd, weren’t you?”

“Exactly,” Frannie said grimly. “I don’t want Josh to make the same mistakes I did.”

Her gaze swept the big room, stopping abruptly.

Nick half-turned to see what had caught her attention and located Josh, deep in conversation with a pretty young blond girl. She was petite and looked almost fragile.

“I take it that’s Lyndsey?”

“Yes.” Frannie sighed. She looked at Nick. “Be glad you’re only the temporary guardian of the triplets, Nick, and won’t be spending their teenage years sleepless and worried about the choices they make.”

Someone called her name and she excused herself to hurry off before Nick could respond. He watched her go, wondering what, exactly, she thought Josh was up to with Lyndsey.

He hoped to God there wasn’t a pregnancy involved. After caring for the triplets, he was convinced no teenager should have babies.

Maybe not even twenty-year-olds should have kids.

He looked at Jessie, bent to kiss the top of her silky curls, and shifted her higher against his shoulder.

“No dating for you until you’re forty,” he told her sternly. “And maybe not even then. Remember, celibacy is a good concept.”

She laughed, burbled nonsensically, and bopped him on the chin with a little fist. Pleased she seemed to understand his lecture, Nick wove his way around diners toward the table where Charlene waited with Jackie and Jenny.

As Nick moved to join Charlene, José Mendoza was deep in conversation with Ross Fortune in one of the smaller, table-filled rooms just off the big main dining room.

“I’m convinced the fire here at the restaurant wasn’t an accident,” José said forcefully. He glanced around, lowering his voice as he continued. “We installed a state-of-the-art sprinkler system not four months before the fire and the smoke alarms are checked each week. There’s no way a fire could have burned out of control and destroyed the building unless someone tampered with the protection systems.”

“And used a powerful accelerant,” Ross commented, eyes narrowing in thought.

“Probably.” José nodded decisively. “Although I can’t figure out why anyone would want to burn down the restaurant.”

“I’m working on the theory that the two fires might be connected—the one here at Red and the barn out at the Double Crown,” Ross said, lowering his voice to keep from being overheard.

José looked taken aback. “What makes you think they’re connected?”

Ross scanned the clusters of people, chatting and laughing. “I’d like to show you something.” He took a note from his pocket and handed it over.

The older man unfolded the paper, read the single line and frowned. He looked up at Ross. “‘This one wasn’t an accident either,’” he quoted. “Where did you get this?

What does it mean?”

“It’s a copy of a note that was slipped into Lily’s pocket after the fire at the Double Crown. She doesn’t have a clue who put it there, nor who wrote it. But it certainly suggests the two fires are connected.” Ross took the note from José and tucked it back into his jacket pocket. “I was hoping you might shed some light as to who might have a grudge against your family and the Fortunes.”

José frowned, his eyes narrowing as he considered the question.

“The Mendoza and Fortune families have been close for a long time,” he said after a moment. “But I can’t imagine anyone would want to hurt my family this way, nor how it could be connected to the Fortunes.”

“The two families are more than friends—your daughter, Gloria, married Jack Fortune. Do you know of any disgruntled boyfriends who might want to get back at you because of the marriage?”

“No.” José’s reply was swift and certain. “I can’t think of anyone angry enough about their wedding, nor about any other situation with our families, to plan this sort of revenge.”

“No disgruntled employees or business deals gone bad?” Ross prodded. Once again, José shook his head. “The only mutual ties between our families are our long-standing friendship and the marriage between Gloria and Jack. I don’t see how either of those could drive someone to blackmail or arson.”

“Which makes me wonder if there might be some other link between your two families. Something we’re not seeing,” Ross mused.

“What’s this about blackmail and arson?” Roberto Mendoza interrupted, joining them. He listened as his father quickly filled him in.

“This is a hell of a situation,” he said when José finished his narrative.

“Yeah,” Ross agreed.

“How close are you to finding out who did this?” Roberto asked grimly.

“No way of telling.” Ross shrugged. “I still have people to interview and leads to follow.”

Ross continued to speak but Roberto didn’t hear him. Distracted, his gaze was focused through the archway and across the dining room, his dark face solemn and intent.

Across the busy main room of Red Restaurant, hidden in the shadows, two figures watched the chattering, laughing groups of celebrants. Frowns of dislike twisted each face into matching expressions of irritation.

“Despite all this celebrating, I have it on good authority the Fortunes are concerned and taking the threats seriously.”

“They seem to have changed their attitude since the second fire—which was a brilliant move, if I say so myself. If this were a chess game, I’d say we’re very close to declaring checkmate.” The voice held satisfaction.

“Yes.” The response was smug, with a hint of gloating. “The Fortunes think they’re so smart and powerful. Well, we’ll see who wins in the end.”

“I don’t doubt the Fortunes will lose this game. Perhaps we should step up the plan?

Raise the stakes—rattle the Fortunes even more. We have to make sure our position is secure.”

“Are you saying the measures we’ve taken up to this point haven’t been sufficiently threatening?” The words were laced with hostility.

“No, of course not.” The response was instant and faintly irritated. “The Fortune family’s sense of well-being has clearly been damaged. I’m merely suggesting it might be wise to push them even harder.”

“I see your point.”

“Excellent.” The word oozed satisfaction. “I’m sure if we decide to plan another…

incident, we can execute it every bit as well as the prior ones.”

“Absolutely.” Conviction and a bone-chilling malice underscored the word. Nick and Charlene left the party early, but even so, the hour was late for the triplets and past their bedtime. The three nodded off in their car seats on the drive home.

By the time Charlene and Nick carried the girls into the house, changed diapers and tucked the babies into their pajamas, the fractious girls were overtired and too awake to fall back to sleep.

“Why don’t I take Jessie and Jenny downstairs,” Nick said. “I’ll turn on the music and walk the floor with them while you rock Jenny up here. When she falls asleep, you can put her in her crib. With luck, one of my two will be asleep by then and we can each deal with one.”

“Good plan,” Charlene agreed. She was settling into the rocking chair as Nick left the room. A few moments later, Norah Jones’s husky voice floated up the stairwell. Charlene contemplated switching on the audio sensor in the bedroom to activate the nearest speaker. But the music was loud enough without the added sound, so she rejected the idea and cuddled Jenny, singing along with Norah Jones. Jenny squirmed and fussed, unhappy, frustrated, and much too tired to settle. Finally, her eyelashes drifted lower and her breathing slowed. Five minutes later, Jenny’s sturdy little body had gone boneless in Charlene’s arms. Rising from the rocker, Charlene carried her across the room and laid her in her crib, tucking her blanket over her. Jenny sighed and curled onto her side, dragging her blanket with her to cuddle the satin binding against her cheek. Charlene stood over the crib for a moment, struck by the deep sense of contentment the moment held. Then she headed downstairs.