Taming Theresa (14 page)

"That's so great! Jack and I can't thank you
enough."

"You're finished already?" said Diane. "Vicky
told me how incredible it looks. I can't wait to see it"

"Well, almost finished. I still have to go
get those little bride and groom cake toppers I told you about and
some other stuff out of my car. Mom wrapped them up for your
shower, but I forgot to give them to you." Theresa gave her a weak
smile and pleaded, "Please don't tell her I forgot."

"Don't worry; I won't tell Aunt Rose a
thing.” Vicky grinned.

"I'll go get them and put them in a safe
place for when I need them." She turned to Diane. "It's a Buonadies
family tradition to use these little dolls as cake toppers."

Diane spoke up, eager to be of some help.
"Give me your keys and I'll get them if you’ll tell me where to
look. The less walking around you do with your sprained ankle, the
better. After we order, I'll run out and get everything."

"Thanks, that'll be great.” Theresa fished
her car keys from her purse and slid them across the table. In the
trunk, there's a shopping bag with a gift-wrapped box inside.
Everything's in there. You know Ma; she couldn't just give me the
stuff to bring. She had to wrap it like a present."

Tony DePalma wasn't aware he was being
watched. He stood casually smoking and eyeing the little red
mustang convertible parked behind the gas station. Furtively, he
glanced around. Then he tossed his cigarette butt on the pavement
and strode decisively toward the parking lot of the Shell
Station.

Behind the tinted windows of an anonymous
looking dark sedan, a pair of sharp blue eyes had him under
surveillance. The keen eyes belonged to Christopher Owen of the
Federal Bureau of Investigation. A tall, well-muscled man, Owen
kept himself in top condition with his daily workouts. Sitting
patiently behind the wheel, the agent studied Tony with intense
interest from the lot of the Henry Hudson Grocery across the
street.

When DePalma made his move, Owen took hold of
his door handle, ready to exit the car and cross over to the Shell
Station. He watched Tony try the car door and step back when he
found it locked.

"Going to try and break in Tony? That where
you hid the money?" he murmured under his breath. Owen sighed when
his quarry quickly turned and started down the street. The agent
got out and casually looked around in every direction, except after
the vanishing Tony DePalma.

"Okay, let's see where you go now," Owen
said, and started to tail the man, but something else caught his
attention. A tall attractive blond, curls bouncing with every step,
was crossing the parking lot headed directly for the Mustang.

When she reached the car and took out her
keys, Owen gave Tony's retreating back one last glance and made a
quick decision. He crossed to the other side of the street and
began to stroll slowly past the Shell Station, watching the woman
from the corner of his eye. What's with this? She's definitely not
that little firecracker, Theresa Buonadies.

The girl fiddled with the key fob for a
moment, then the headlights flashed and finally the trunk popped
open. She bent over to reach deep inside, treating him to a very
nice view of her long legs as her dress rode up her thighs hugging
her trim bottom.

“Just one of the many perks of the job,” he
muttered under his breath.

After rooting around for a moment, she
emerged with a large shopping bag. Closing the trunk, the girl
turned and walked briskly back in the direction she'd come. It was
growing dark and she increased her pace as the wind picked up
blowing dry leaves about the street.

Owen followed at a discrete distance. “Tell
me, who you are pretty lady?” he breathed. Are you a friend of
Tony’s?” After she entered the tavern, the agent waited for exactly
one minute before entering himself, curious to know what was in the
shopping bag.

Tony DePalma strode back up the Main Street
of Pippin's Grove, now armed with a Slim Jim, all he needed to get
past the locks on Theresa's Mustang. He hurried, head bent against
the wind. The temperature was dropping and he shivered with the
cold. He hadn't bothered with a jacket.

Reaching the little red convertible, he took
hold of the door handle by force of habit, and to his amazement, it
opened. Unlocked? What the hell? Who unlocked it? His head whipped
around looking for signs of life. Nothing moved in the shafts of
light from the street lamps or storefront windows. Moving quickly,
he found the trunk release and in the darkness felt for what he was
looking for. There, shoved all the way to the back. He pulled it
out and closed the trunk. Lock it up again? No, better leave things
the way they are.

He scanned his surroundings again, but there
was no one there. The only sound was the wind and the rustle of
blowing leaves on the pavement. Trying to look casual, he walked as
fast as he could back to his own vehicle parked a few blocks
away.

Once inside, he started the engine and turned
on the heater. Reaching into the shopping bag on his lap, he
extracted the wrapped box.

"Pretty clever, doing' it up like a present
soes nobody would suspect. How'd I know Terry would fire my ass
just after I hid it in her trunk? That was a piece of bad luck," he
muttered.

"Wait a minute. This don't look right," he
exclaimed. Tearing the wrapping paper off, he opened the box.
Something heavy rolled in several layers of tissue paper fell out.
Perplexed, he slowly unwrapped it. Turning on the overhead dome
light, he stared at the three-inch high figurines, one a little
bride in white dress and veil, the other a man in a black tuxedo.
"What the...?"

As he moved casually to the bar at his left,
Owen scanned the dining room for the tall blond. One glance told
him that she wasn't there, and he slipped onto a stool at the end
of the bar. A few of the regular beer drinkers were having an
animated discussion about the Boston Patriots and their chances
this season, but when he joined them, conversation ceased. They
threw him a quick glance, before sipping in contemplative silence
and then picked up where they'd left off. He looked around the room
once more but didn't spot his quarry.

The bartender set down a fresh beer glass
before one of the customers, and started towards Christopher. "Can
I get you something friend?" he asked.

Owen rubbed his chin, smiled at the cheerful
face behind the bar, and considered the beer taps and bottles
ranked on shelves at the man's back. If he simply sat watching the
room or with an untouched drink it might draw unwanted attention.
On the other hand, drinking could cause him to lose his mental edge
and that wasn't good either.

A door opened at the back of the restaurant
and the pretty blond emerged and joined two other women seated at a
center table. She no longer had the shopping bag. As one of the
women turned her head, he recognized Theresa Buonadies. That makes
sense, since Blondie was fishing around in Theresa's car. This is
getting interesting.

Owen turned to the bartender and told him,
"I'm going to have a seat at that table and get a bite to eat, if
that's okay?"

"Suit yourself. I'll have the waitress bring
you a menu." He signaled an aproned woman and went back to his
regular customers.

Owen found a corner table and sat with his
back to the wall where he could watch both the front door and the
three women. Discreetly, he slipped a small listening device that
resembled a Bluetooth headset into his ear. Aiming the directional
microphone toward their table, he could hear their conversation. He
was careful not to be obvious with the device. Its use was not
strictly legal in this situation, but he'd found it helpful in the
past. Chris Owen's approach was pragmatic in his job as an agent of
the FBI.

A bustling waitress was setting down plates
and they were thanking her. Nothing interesting yet.

“...and you ordered the cheeseburger rare. I
brought the onion rings family style the way you like them, Diane.
I had the cook make the order extra large.”

“Thanks Kay. You're the best!”

“Enjoy.”

Theresa said, “The week before the wedding is
no time to start a diet. We deserve a good dinner, right? Could I
have the salt and pepper please?”

They'd apparently all ordered big juicy
burgers with plenty of French fries and onion rings. Damn, I’m
hungry, Owen thought.

After serving the women, the waitress
retrieved a menu and smiling, came over to him. He responded with a
bright smile of his own.

"My name is Kay. Welcome to Paulding's Rest.
Our specials for today are clipped to the first page of the menu.
Let me know if you have any questions.”

He glanced down at the menu and back up at
Kay. "If you could bring me a coke with lemon first, that would be
great.”

“Sure thing. Do you need a minute to
decide?"

“Well, I hear the food here is good. Any
suggestions?" he asked.

"The grilled salmon is real good tonight, if
you like salmon. Burgers and steaks are always good. We make the
best homemade onion rings in New York State. At least that's what
everyone says.”

“Hmm, onion rings sound good.” He appeared to
be studying the menu as he watched the three women. Those onion
rings smell incredible. I hope I have enough time to eat.

“I don't think I've seen you before," she
said, ratcheting her smile up a notch. He didn’t answer as he
studied the choices and after a moment, she sighed.

"Yeah, a hamburger with everything, lettuce,
tomato, and onion rings sounds great. Could you make it medium
rare?"

"Okey dokey, medium rare it is. Be back in a
minute with your coke."

He smiled again, handed her the menu and
focused his attention on the girls once more. The girl she’d called
Diane was talking. "The room looks amazing! I can't believe the
change," she enthused. "And I put the bag in there where you wanted
it."

"I'm glad you like it," Theresa said,
pleased. "We've got the wedding party sitting at that long table
and the other guests at the round tables. They'll seat nine or ten
comfortably. Thanks again for going to the car. My ankle is still
pretty sore. We can't lose that bag. Very important stuff in there,
right?" All three women chuckled.

"No problem. I want to help," said Diane.

"Vicky, you don't have to use those little
cake toppers if you don't want to. No one really bothers with those
anymore. They were on our parents’ wedding cakes. Most couples have
flowers now, but you know my mother. She insisted I bring
them."

"I think it's cool to have the tradition and
I know it's important to your mom." Vicky bit into her hamburger
and chewed thoughtfully. "Maybe someday I'll have a daughter who'll
use them on her wedding cake. Where did Aunt Rose and my Mom get
them, do you know?"

"I'm not sure, but they're pretty old. I'll
have to ask Ma." Theresa smiled at her cousin. "I am so looking
forward to your wedding!"

"Thanks, me too!" Vicky laughed.

Theresa daintily dipped an onion ring in
ketchup and took a bite. "Oh my god, you guys! You weren't kidding.
These are delicious!"

Diane forked a couple onion rings onto her
own plate. "I know. I know. I shouldn't even come in here the food
is so great. Good thing I've already had that dress fitting."

Christopher Owen felt his stomach growl. Okay
ladies. Enough about the food and the wedding. He adjusted the
microphone slightly. Why don't we discuss what's in that bag? He
saw the pretty blond, Diane, glance at him and he looked away.

"Who's that guy?" Diane asked gesturing with
her fork. She leaned forward and whispered, "Have you seen him
before Vicky?"

Her friend glanced over at him and confessed,
“I’ve never seen him.

“What beautiful bright blue eyes he has. Not
every day you see a really hot guy like that in Paulding's
Rest.”

Owen grinned and started to cough. He reached
for his coke and drank, trying not to smile.

Kay looked worried as she put his food down.
“Are you okay?” When he nodded, wiping his eyes, she said, “I'll
get you another coke.”

Vicky slid some onion rings onto her plate
and passed them again to her cousin. "So, have you talked to John
any more since Monday?"

"Well, he stopped by today while I was doing
the back room and helped me finish up. Did you know he has a
Mustang the same color and model as mine?"

"Yeah, that's right, but I usually see him
driving around in his SUV," said Vicky.

"He just told me my car needs new tires. What
do I know about tires? I thought they were fine, but according to
him there's hardly any tread left. Tony never noticed things like
that, the bastard.”

So, Tony is a bastard. Owen nodded.

“Anyway, John said he'd have his mechanic put
new ones on. He really is a pretty nice guy. I really don't mind
being his date for the wedding."

"I told you so," said Vicky. "He's just a
little different, kind of quirky. He doesn't necessarily follow
along with the crowd."

"That's for sure." Theresa rolled her eyes
dramatically. "I almost forgot. He's going to stop by soon and pick
up my keys so his mechanic can work on my car first thing in the
morning."

"Terry, I think that guy is totally in to
you," Vicky teased. “New tires on your car? How sweet."

"He's just helping with the wedding stuff,
for you and Jack. He is a nice guy though."

"I chased after him for years," Diane blurted
out in disgust, then drained her second glass of wine. "But that's
all over. I decided to move on with my life."

"Oh my god? I didn't realize that was really
serious," Vicky said, startled.

"Yeah, well, we dated a little. He was never
that interested." Diane sighed and pushed her plate away. "I've had
a crush on him since I was in high school. Sometimes he'll take me
to a local event or I'll see him around town, but he's never even
kissed me. Not once."