The Hard Way (Box Set) (13 page)

Jennifer clapped in agreement, spouting some nonsense about getting to know one another, and they were off again, this time speeding to the top floor by use of a special key in the elevator.

Once there, Jessica ignored her midget of a youngest sister and her leering boyfriend and made straight for the bathroom.

“There’s always some kind of orgy-sized shower in these things,” she explained as she gleefully thought of taking off the grubby robe and getting into some clean designer originals. Did Versace do wardrobe for some of the soaps? Maybe she would luck out and get Bob Mackie!

“Don’t wait for me!” she giggled, as she looked the space over. “I just want to soak my bones, scrub off the grime, and feel like a new person all over again.”

“Oh, you’ll feel like a new person.”

At the malice in Jamie’s voice, Jessica turned, only to have something hard hit her in the back of her head.

Her headache returned with a vengeance just before the light, as she knew it, ceased to be. Her last thought as unconsciousness claimed her was, will someone stop playing that stupid nineteen-twenties villain music?

“Jessica, darling?”

A soft, masculine voice calling her name pulled her from the darkness. That and something cold and wet, that she prayed was water, splashing into her face.

“What…? Fuck!”

She lurched up into a sitting position, her hands going to her face to wipe whatever it was out of her eyes.

“Come, come, Jessica. It’s only a little water.”

That voice again!

She turned her head, scanning the room while still blinking rapidly, to see a tall, overweight, dark-complexioned man standing over her.

“There you are,” he said. His accent, she now noticed, was distinctively Italian. He reached one large hand out to caress her wet cheek. “Beautiful.”

“Beautiful… my… ass!”

Jessica was not amused. Water in her face, some cheap Godfather knockoff was rasping at her… and she still hadn’t had her shower!

“Yes, that is quite attractive too,” he mused, walking across the small room to a sideboard where a bottle of wine, complete with an assortment of cheeses, sat in wait. “I seem to find almost every part of you quite attractive.”

“Where am I?”

Jessica gave the room a quick once-over and saw that she was in some sort of bedroom. And she was still wearing that damn robe and the heels.

“You are with me.” He paused in taking a bite of what looked to be aged cheddar to give her a short bow. “I am Don Carlieonie, master of this house, the one chosen to end --”
Bumm bum bummm
, went the unseen band and Jessica’s hands went to her ears. This music crap was beginning to give her a headache. “The vendetta my family has against yours!”

Fast violin music began to play and Jessica looked at the tall, overweight man as if he were the one with a cracked skull. “My family? Vendetta?”

Suddenly, the music dulled into the soft strains of a haunting violin as Don Carlieonie began to speak.

“There is a vendetta against your father that has dragged on for decades.”

“My father the dead priest?” Her face was screwed up in confusion even as she rolled her eyes at the man.

“No, your father the Egyptian prince!”

“Egyptian prince. Riiiiiight.”

“He allowed the honorable daughter of the Carlieonie house to be assassinated on his land. Sure, it was our enemies that followed her there, but the prince failed to protect her. She was the only daughter of the house, and with her died the Carlieonie blood.”

“But,” Jessica felt the need to point out, “you are a Carlieonie. Some blood, or at least some seed, had to be spilt on some fertile ground.” She arched her eyebrow challengingly.

He stared, dumbfounded for the moment, but quickly recovered.

“Be that as it may, your father had to pay the price. All of his daughters were assassinated save for one, the one he so loved he sent her away from his Egyptian shores.”

“Um, why didn’t he just hire some bodyguards or something?”

“Because he didn’t!”

“Or he could have sent a sincere letter of apology and caught the assassins.”

“That is not the point!”

“Or he could have at least moved his daughters when they started dropping dead! I mean, there is always the FBI, the CIA, and any other government agency that would have killed to have information about the whereabouts of Italians with vendettas.”

“But he didn’t!”

Hmm. It seemed to Jess that maybe logic just wasn’t going to work here. “Or he could have --”

“You are the remaining daughter!”

That gave her pause. “I am the remaining daughter?”

“Yes.”

“But my pappy was a minister! At least that’s what they told me!”

“Your father was an Egyptian prince. You are his daughter, his only remaining daughter. I ought to know! It is my people that blew your plane out of the sky!”

Bumm bum bummmmmm
!

“Do you hear that?” she felt compelled to ask. Really, she thought. Was she the only one who could hear around here?

“All I hear is the pounding of my heart, Jessica.”

“Say what?”

“I find that I no longer wish to kill you, Jessica. In fact…”

At his dramatic pause, Jessica knew what was coming. She clapped her hands over her ears just in time to muffle the loud bass orchestra hit that filled the air.

“…I am in love with you!”

“What?”

Two female voices screamed out suddenly, Jessica’s in shock and another, near the entrance to the room, in angered disbelief. Jessica turned to see…

“Carmen!”

“Fabio!”

The woman was tall, svelte, and dark-haired. She stalked into the room in a ridiculous peasant blouse and skirt, matched up with a huge red flower in her hair and a pair of stiletto shoes fit for a tango. Talk about your stereotypes! At least she was cursed with sucky footwear as well, Jessica thought.

“Carmen!” The don looked pale.

“Fabio!”

“Jessica!” he cried out, looking at her beseechingly.

“Jessica!” the woman, apparently Carmen, sneered, narrowing her eyes.

“Fabio?” Jessica asked, shuddering at another cliché.

“Carmen!” Fabio was now sweating, and that did not do nice things to his white suit.

“Okay.” Jessica’s voice broke the tension. “Now that we’re all introduced and stuff, why don’t you show me the front door? I need to go back and see a woman about signing some papers.”

“You cannot go!” Fabio shouted, clutching at his heart as if it were breaking. Then he glanced over at the storm cloud that made up Carmen’s face and gulped. “I mean, you just got here. You need to have a meal. Hospitality dictates it.”

“Yes,” Carmen purred. “Stay, Jessica. Even a condemned man gets one last meal.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jessica chuckled a bit, glaring at the two strange people in the room with her. After a moment her laughter died a sick death. “The whole assassination, blow up my plane thing. I’m sorry, but you have the wrong girl.”

“No, you are… the one we sought.” The don backed away and walked over toward Carmen. “My wife and I insist that you stay until the rest of the family gathers.”

“Wait!” Jessica was now getting quite perturbed. “You were hitting on me while your wife was standing right at the door? Man, if you aren’t a ho, I don’t know what one is! I should call you Big Trickin’ or Big Papa at least! What’re you trying to do? Keep your pimp hand string and all of that? Shit, man, late for you!”

She dropped her legs over the side of the bed, and with dignity stood up, water still soaking into her robe, and made for the front door. It was time to blow this joint and get back to the part where she became fabulously rich and waited for tall, dark, and Rockish.

But the click of a high-powered semi-automatic weapon brought her to a halt. She recognized the sound from her many hours of soap opera viewing. It would probably be a nine millimeter Glock.

She turned slowly, and stomped her feet as she let out a curt curse.

It
was
a damn gun! This place was so predictable.

“This nine millimeter Glock says that you stay,” Carmen added, grinning nastily from bright red painted lips.

“Red is a whore color!” she hissed, trying to save a little face.

“And they match your shoes,” Carmen countered.

Oh yeah. She had forgotten about those. A point for Stereotype Carmen.

Damn
, she thought.
How do the brainless writers make this shit look so easy
? She’d only been in Prefect City for a few hours and already she was beginning to long for her couch.

The etiquette for eating a meal chained to one’s chair while wearing a dirty damp robe and gaudy whore shoes was not covered in Miss Manners. So Jessica sat and pouted while Carmen glowered and Fabio just looked sweaty and nervous.

“The family will be gathered soon,” Carmen stated as she speared a bite of lettuce, but never brought it to her lips. She just kind of moved it around on her plate.

“This is good.” Fabio sighed into his wineglass, but never took a sip.

“You are not eating,” Carmen snapped at Jessica, drawing her eyes away from her husband. “It is disrespectful to my house.”

“Well, whoop dee fuckin’ do!” Jessica snarled. “I’m sure it’s disrespectful to my house for you to kidnap a member of it -- namely me!”

“Kidnap?” Carmen snorted. “There is no kidnapping here. A member of your house all but gave you to us all gift wrapped in a bow.”

“The fuck you say!” Jessica was indeed shocked to hear that, but then after a moment’s thought, decided that it went along with a soap opera plot.

“Fuck is such a nasty word. Wouldn’t you say so, Fabio?” Carmen asked, turning her head to stare at her husband.

“Depends on who’s doing the fucking,” he muttered, then smiled at his wife. “Nasty bit of business, Carmen. By the way, where are the children?”

“Fabina and Fabian are out with friends,” Carmen snapped.

“My children, fruitages of the belly,” Fabio explained as Jessica rolled her eyes again.

“You do not enjoy children?” Carmen asked.

“What I would enjoy is getting out of these chains and back to where I belong.”

“With me, ur, uh, with us,” Fabio hastily amended as Carmen shot him a glance.

Just then, there was the sound of a door slamming and quick footsteps.

“Mama, I’m home!”

“Fabina!” Fabio gasped, looking between Carmen and Jessica. How could he explain this one while keeping his daughter out of the family business? Too many daughters had wound up dead or kidnapped, er, gift wrapped for the enemies, for his taste. He didn’t want anything happening to his darling beloved daughter.

“Dinner party?” she asked as she made her way into the dining room.

Fabina had dark hair like her mother, and a well-rounded figure. She smiled sweetly at her father and shot a confused look at her mother and the other woman in the strange robe.

“Something like that.” Carmen smiled. “Why don’t you go on up to your room and… find Miss Jessica something to wear. Something of yours should fit.”

“Yeah right,” Jessica snorted, noting that little Fabina had massive tatas to go along with the well-rounded hips. Any shirt that girl loaned her would have interesting breast prints that she couldn’t fill with a Wonderbra!

“Miss Jessica had a bit of an accident, and we are waiting for her people to come and retrieve her, poor girl.”

“Right away.” Fabina smiled, then turned and swiftly made her way out of the room. Her father smiled and followed, hoping to draw her off with distractions while his wife handled the delectable Jessica.

“You will be dealt with.” Carmen sneered at Jessica.

“For being the daughter of an Egyptian prince?’ she asked archly.

“For trying to steal my husband!”

“Trying to… For the love of Pete, woman! Wake up and smell that biscotti! That man is hitting on me!”

“Fabio would never --”

“Sister, please! And I do mean sister! You know what the Moors did to Italy? So you all got dark hair, attitudes, and ghetto booties. We are sisters, sister, and I am telling you that you need to ditch that zero for a hero!”

“How dare you!” Carmen’s eyes widened in outrage as she glared at the trussed up woman.

“I dare because it’s true! I don’t want him! I have a candy-coated hard body around here somewhere. And I want to get back to him. So how about you let me go? I go, and you get fatso. Sound good?” She smiled her most engaging smile.

Carmen jumped to her feet, knocking her chair back, and exited the room, shooting Jessica one nasty glare. “You will be sorry!”

“I’m already sorry!” Jessica shot back. “I didn’t get my shower and I want to go back to my billions of unclaimed cash!”

The slamming of the door was her only answer, and she soon turned her mind back to the food in front of her. No matter how hungry she was, she could not lift the damn fork to her mouth. She could only move it around on the plate.

And she was getting thirsty, too!

She sighed and tried to figure out what would happen next. It would be the great rescue, right? God, she hoped so! This was getting tedious.

* * *

“Potent venom from the deadly fangs of an Egyptian asp! Even more potent when swallowed.”

Carmen chuckled as she placed three drops of the deadly poison into the wine glass on the tray. “Soon you’ll be sorry, my pretty Jessica!”

Standing just outside the dining room doors, Fabina paused as she saw her mother doing something at yet another sideboard. Looked like she was putting something in a glass. She paused, holding out the T-shirt and skirt she brought for the visiting woman, Jessica.

She stood there for a moment, watching her mother cackle, before her father came down the hall beside her and took the clothing from her arms.

“You run along, poppet! You go and spend some time with your brother at your friend’s house. I will take these in to Jessica.”

Smiling, Fabina left the house to join her friend and her brother, but the strange sight of her mother with that glass never left her mind.