Taming Theresa (16 page)

"Theresa's not involved in this, is she?"
asked Jack with alarm.

"No no, not at all. I'm sure she is entirely
innocent, and I don’t want this to be connected with her in any
way."

"Yeah, I can understand that, but what does
this have to do with me or Victoria?"

"Nothing directly," he said slowly. Sighing,
he began to pace the length of the barn, his casual demeanor
changing to one of intensity, of controlled anger.

"Please keep this to yourself; I don’t want
the women to know. I need to inform you because I recently
contacted the authorities and have been working closely with them.
Their people suspect one of my employees, a former employee, may be
in the area. This man was about to be arrested with a large amount
of money, when my daughter fired him.” Dominick laughed. “The man
certainly deserved it. Regrettably, there will have to be a change
of plans. An additional guest will be attending your wedding. The
man's name is Christopher Owen and he is an agent of the FBI. Mr.
Owen will be there to blend in with the guests and observe.
Ostensibly, he is a friend of the family. A wedding is an easy
place to remain anonymous. Half the guests are strangers to the
other half, so it is easy to assume...well, you understand.” Here
Dominick paused as Jack digested the information.

What am I getting myself into, marrying into
this Italian family from Jersey? I gotta trust Victoria's uncle,
so.... He simply nodded and said slowly, "Okay, go on."

"The FBI have tracked the man to this area.
So, it is possible that Owen will be talking to the local police. I
understand you have friends on the force. He may even want to talk
to you. I don't know. It is impossible to say where their
investigation may lead. I just thought you ought to know. I don’t
expect any disruption this weekend. You and Victoria will have your
wedding as planned. That is important to us."

"Sure. Thanks for letting me know. I guess."
Money laundering, illegal drugs, the FBI? What next? Bewildered,
Jack leaned against the tractor and wondered what he was getting
into.

Dominick stopped in front of him and
continued angrily, "I will not have some criminal ruin the business
that I have worked so hard to build. Always I have done everything
according to the law. My own restaurant used as an illegal money
laundering operation! Drugs sold on my property! No, I will see
these crooks rot in jail. If they implicate, or harm in any way, my
Theresa, they will pay a heavy price and not just from the police,
you understand?" he growled angrily.

Jack nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'd be mad
too."

The older man calmed himself. His anger spent
in the brief outburst. "Thank you and now we will speak no more of
that. It was important to me that you know about Mr. Owen. There is
one other thing I wish to discuss and perhaps ask your advice. I
think your friend John is a bit perturbed with me." An amused grin
spread over the older man's face. "Yes, I asked him about the
tavern, Paulding's Rest, as it may soon be for sale. I am
considering making Mr. Spangenberg an offer and opening another
restaurant here, in Pippin's Grove. John doesn’t seem to like this
idea."

Jack laughed. "No, I'll bet he doesn't. Van
Wart considers it his, like he's part owner or something. I doubt
if he wants it changed to an Italian restaurant."

"Yes, I know. We shall see. It was only an
idea. You know it might not be possible. I am under the impression
that Mr. Spangenberg has received another offer already."

"Really?" Jack looked up in surprise. "I
didn’t know he’d made a decision to sell yet."

"The offer was a very generous one, and may
have inspired him to accelerate his plans, but then I know very
little about it."

Jack rolled all this news around in his mind.
Dominick always knows more than he lets on.

“I would like to have Theresa come up and
manage the new restaurant. She needs a change.”

“Hey, I've got another idea for you." Jack
pointed out the barn door to the big three bay garage at the other
side of the lawn. There’s a new apartment over the garage with a
full bath and kitchen. I built it and lived there while my uncle
was alive. I'm sure Victoria would love to have her cousin move in
and be right next door. Theresa wouldn't have to worry about
finding a place right away."

"That's a generous offer. Thank you very
much. Yes, I think my Theresa needs to get away from New Jersey for
a while. So, that much is settled for now. Jack, welcome to the
family."

He walked Dominick to his car and waved as he
drove out onto the road and disappeared around the bend. Jack stood
for a few minutes considering the conversation. His quiet life in
Pippin's Grove certainly had become more interesting since Victoria
showed up. He zipped his thin jacket, feeling the brisk breeze and
dropping temperature. Inhaling deeply the russet scents of autumn,
he surveyed his farm and its surrounding orchards in the moonlight.
The wind whistled and sang its mournful song in the bare tree
branches. Brown dry leaves clattered past his feet.

Laughter and light spilled from the house. He
entered the screen door and crossed the porch. Marsha and Joe were
at the kitchen table leaning over a laptop, checking out some
wedding web sites.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing Jack," said Marsha. "We're just
making wedding plans and lists of potential baby names. Come on and
join us. We need your input."

"I know the money is here," said Agent Owen.
"It makes sense with Tony DePalma sniffing around."

Henry Jackson, Pippin's Grove’s chief of
police, leaned back as his battered old desk chair squealed in
protest. He regarded his friend, Officer Cangelosi, listening to
the tall handsome FBI agent explaining their presence in his small
town. His diminutive partner’s look of sober intensity never
wavered as she listened to their conversation. Small, but tough,
thought Jackson. I'll bet that agent can take care of herself in a
tight spot.

They sat around his desk sipping coffee from
Styrofoam cups.

"How much money? Did you say two hundred and
fifty big ones?"

"That's right," said Owen. "A quarter of a
million dollars. Its drug money, and there's more where that came
from. They were in the process of laundering it and we were moving
in on the sting, when someone threw a wrench in the machine. The
restaurant owner in New Jersey fired DePalma and he went
underground, along with the money. Everybody clams up because they
suspect they’re being watched, which they are. We want to catch our
boy, Tony, with the cash. Then we put the squeeze on him to give us
the big fish in the operation. He's a minor player, but he knows
one or two of the major ones."

"You've seen this guy in town recently?"

"Yes, he’s here. He followed Theresa
Buonadies, the woman who fired him. She isn’t really a suspect in
our investigation, but she’s mixed up in this. I'm not convinced
she isn't involved in some way. Her father, the owner of the
restaurants, says she's innocent. After all, she's his daughter. Of
course, he'd say that."

Vince looked up, opened his mouth to speak,
but shut it again. The agent gave him a pointed look.

"You know who she is, Vince?”

He looked at the chief and nodded. Then he
turned to Owen. "She's up here for a wedding this week. The bride
and groom are friends of mine. She's organizing the whole thing for
her cousin, Vicky. I'll be there. You want me to keep my eyes open
for something?" Vince wanted to be cooperative, but hoped fervently
that Vicky's cousin wasn't mixed up in something illegal.

"As a matter of fact, I'll be at that wedding
as well. I’m a guest of Mr. Buonadies. We believe that DePalma will
show up there. We have him under surveillance at a motel out on the
highway where he’s been staying. This time we intend to nail
him...with the money."

"But, you don't have any idea where this
money is?" asked Jackson.

"We don't think DePalma has it on him." Owen
paused and glanced toward Vince. "He’s here for a reason and we
want him to lead us to it.”

"Okay. We'll help you any way we can." said
the chief, readjusting his bulk in the chair, producing another
complaint from its bearings. "And we appreciate you stopping in to
put us in the loop. Hope you catch this guy soon. We don't want
drugs, drug money, or creeps like this DePalma in our town. Vince,
make sure you and agent Owen here stay in touch. Give him anything
he needs."

Vince nodded to his boss and stood up
extending a hand to Owen and Rodriguez. "Just let me know what we
can do to help. I guess I'll see you at the wedding.” He looked at
the agents thoughtfully before offering his point of view.

"I don't know Theresa well, but I doubt she's
involved in any of this. I know her cousin pretty well, and I
really don't think...."

"You're correct Officer Cangelosi.” Rodriguez
cut him off and gave him a disdainful look. “You don't know her
well. We’ve been on this case for several months and we’ve been
watching that restaurant closely. I seriously doubt that as the
manager, she knew nothing of what was going on. Until recently, she
was engaged to our suspect, DePalma. When we put the screws to him,
we'll find out how deeply Ms. Theresa Buonadies is involved."

”Do you, Jack Connor, take this woman,
Victoria Isabella Buonadies to be your wife, according to God’s
holy decree; do you promise to be to her a loving and loyal
husband, to cherish and keep her in sickness and in health; and,
forsaking all others, to be faithful only to her as long as you
both shall live?" Reverend Miller looked expectantly at the
groom.

"I do." His voice was clear and strong as he
held Vicky's hands and looked earnestly into her eyes.

Smiling, the minister focused her attention
on the bride.

"And do you, Victoria Isabella Buonadies,
take this man, Jack Connor, to be your husband, according to God’s
holy decree; do you promise to be to him a loving and loyal wife,
to cherish and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking
all others, to be faithful only to him as long as you both shall
live?"

Vicky trembled, but her soft, "I do,''
expressed her joy.

Theresa stood beside her white gowned cousin,
holding the bride's bouquet. Tears ran down her cheeks, watering
the flowers in her arms.

John stole a glance at Theresa admiring the
way her hourglass figure filled her apple red dress. Man, she's
hot! He looked up and saw Theresa's tears and beside her, Marsha
sniffing. Why do women cry at weddings? He did feel a little catch
in his own throat as Jack slipped the ring onto Vicky's finger.
What's the big deal? Then, with a start, he realized that when Joe
married Marsha, he'd be the only one left unmarried. Well, so what.
I'm happy just the way I am.

When the organ began playing and the soloist
sang he barely heard them.

Ralph and his wait staff bustled about,
making the final changes at the reception, laying the tables and
readying the bar. Kay began counting the number of place settings
on the long head table as she laid a folded red napkin at each
place until her foot encountered something underneath. Bending
down, she lifted the satin tablecloth and discovered a shopping bag
containing a wrapped box.

"What's this doing here?" she asked herself
and then she called out, "Hey Ralph, I think someone left a wedding
present over here under the table."

The big man hurried over and looked inside
the bag.

"Yeah, I'll take care of it," he said,
crossing to the back of the room where a small table was set aside
for gifts and cards. "I'll put it here where they'll find it
later."

Vicky and Jack wore wide smiles with their
arms around one another, flanked by their attendants. Theresa stood
smiling for the photographer with the rest of the wedding party,
but her mind raced down her mental checklist for the reception. The
buzz of conversation and laughter of the guests watching the photo
shoot created a distraction. I hope there's nothing I've forgotten.
Did I tell Kay to use those new red napkins? I hope Ralph remembers
to chill the white wine.

She felt a hand slip around her waist and tug
her against a muscular chest. Turning her head slightly, still
smiling, she hissed, "Let go of me." His hand traveled down,
stroking her bottom and when he gave it a squeeze, she jumped.
"Stop it John!"

"Sorry folks." The photographer frowned at
his digital display. "We need to take that one again.

"Get your hand off my...." she growled under
her breath.

"What?" John asked innocently, his hand
wandering over her round curves as she posed for another picture,
before whispering in her ear, "You look awesome in that dress."

She turned and glared at him for an instant
before smiling again at the camera. "Cut it out! I mean it."

"Let's have everyone smiling this time," the
photographer called. The camera snapped and he looked up pleased.
"Okay now. Let's cuddle up and have one last close shot of you all
smiling at the happy couple."

John put his arms about her waist from behind
and drew her close. "This is nice," he teased.

She ignored him, smiling at Jack and
Vicky.

"A little closer people," came from behind
the camera.

"Yes sir," John laughed as he pressed her
bottom firmly against the evidence of his appreciation."

"Okay everybody, I think that's it," said the
photographer. "Thanks for your co-operation." He waved the wedding
party away.

Theresa straightened up abruptly and stepped
back firmly onto John's foot with the business end of her
high-heeled shoe. "Oh my god, I know what I forgot! The cake
toppers never made it on the cake. If Ma notices, she'll throw a
fit. We have to talk to Vicky."