With Her Last Breath (30 page)

She stopped, arms held high, and looked at the men seated in various positions around the deck. The Alessandro males—Vinnie, Dante, Tony, and others—were drinking coffee and eating cinnamon rolls. Anthony held a water hose, rinsing the siding of a big metal building…

Maggie blinked, and it wasn’t a building at all. Her camper was parked alongside Nick’s house.

“About time,” Vinnie said around the toothpick on his lips. One eye was swollen and he looked as if he’d had a hard night. “Setting up a hookup is going to be a bitch. It would be easier to have one of the commercial guys come out here with a truck and empty the tanks.”

Vinnie looked past Maggie. “I don’t think your girl likes the arrangement, Nick. You’re on your own.”

Maggie turned to Nick, who stood in his boxer shorts. He yawned and rubbed his hair as if slowly coming awake. “Thanks, Vinnie. I’ll handle her from now.”

She stared at Nick, her tender lover of last night and the man who had survived her full athletic skills. He’d handled her all right, but there was a possessive confidence about him now—and a narrowed, determined look that matched the lock of his jaw.

Nick bent to pluck a daisy, then tucked it in her hair. His smile was tight and grim. “Good morning, honey. This arrangement is only temporary, until we know just who is behind destroying my winery. Or you could move in and make everything simple.”

“Let me get this straight: I am supposed to accommodate you. You just move George’s—”

With the look of an artist putting the finishing touches on a painting, Nick adjusted the daisy in her hair. “George agreed, honey. He thought it was best, too.”

To the men, he smiled warmly. “She’s cute when she’s all worked up, don’t you think? I like her freckles.”

Nick had kissed enough of her freckles last night. Now he was primed for a complete takeover. Maggie batted away his finger as it traced the freckles on her cheek.

Scout was standing at attention, eyeing the cinnamon roll in Tony’s hand. “Tony, if you give that to my dog, you’re dead,” Maggie said.

He had that little-boy guilty look. Nick didn’t; he looked as if he’d dug in for a fight and he meant to have his way.

Vinnie tossed a hand unit to Nick and yawned. “We rigged an alarm system. An intercom between the camper and house. You’re close enough for a good reception—and one that goes all the way to the winery, too. See you. Let me know if you need anything else. I gotta catch some shut-eye.”

Anthony looked at Maggie. “My son is worried about you. We all worry about you, alone in that tin can. This is a small thing, to keep you safe. You can stay at the apartment, but you know, my Rosa, she won’t like Nick…ah, visiting. And I remember when I was young, and maybe now, too, I wouldn’t stay away from Rosa. I needed to hold her in my arms each night and know that she was safe and well. That is how he feels, I’m sure.”

“I want her to marry me,” Nick said with that narrowed look down at her, as if he were digging in for a war he intended to win. “It’s only a short time, but I know what I want.”

“Your mother wants a ring on Maggie’s finger, Nick. She wants to know if we raised you wrong. I am paying a price for this, you know, boy. I was a little bit of a ladies’ man in my youth, and she’s blaming me for what you do. She sees you together, and she knows that it is right. Maybe you had better start talking to Tony. He could give you advice about courting a woman of today.”

Maggie stared at Anthony and Nick, both men towering over her. Nick’s winery should be his first concern this morning, and his family’s. Instead, they were discussing why Nick and she weren’t making wedding plans. “Hey. I’m in this somewhere.”

“Is my son not romantic enough?” Anthony demanded as the other men started to grin.

Nick glared at them, his hands on his hips. “She’s going to change her mind. She’s been married before and didn’t like it. She’s going to like it with me.”

“Oh, am I? Nick, you have important business this morning—you know, the winery? All those investigators? Your customers?”

“
This
is important business,” Nick and his father stated at the same time, frowning at her.

Because actions came more easily to Maggie than words, she reached for the hose Anthony had been using. Adjusting the spray to full force, Maggie aimed the water at Nick. He stood, arms crossed, eyes closed, as the water hit his face and moved down the length of his body.

While he was standing in the pool of water, streams of it flowing over his body, and dripping from his hair and soaked boxer shorts, Maggie turned the stream on the other men, who yelped in surprise and leaped over the guardrails, standing back a distance.

Scout barked happily, running around the deck and leaping on Nick. He rough-played with her and then eyed Maggie. He blew a drop of water from his nose. “At least
she
likes me.”

Maggie sprayed him again, gave the hose to Anthony, and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Don’t blame yourself. Your other two sons are sweet.”

Anthony grinned widely. “I want one of those old-fashioned handlebar mustaches, a really big set that I can use wax on to curl the ends up. Rosa says no. She likes you. Maybe you could talk to her about my mustache?”

Maggie considered the older man carefully. Family was
more important to Anthony than the replacement of a business. “You get Nick to back off and I will. He’s coming on like gangbusters and I like to make up my own mind. I’ve got a lot to settle, and he’s not making it easy.”

She threw up her hands. “Here we are, in the middle of a disaster, Nick’s business could be ruined, investigators swarming everywhere—”

Anthony laughed loudly. “‘Gang busters.’ Yes, that would be my sons. You should have seen them when they were young. Still, a woman has the right to make up her own mind—sometimes.”

He lowered his voice to a serious tone. “This is dangerous, Maggie. He is only concerned about you. Forgive him his mistakes. It is a bad time for him. He held his grandfather’s dream close, and he has already lost once before.”

“I know, and he’s emotional right now. But he can’t push me around.”

“That’s good, to have a balance where the man and woman understand each is strong and each is willing to give.”

“I understand that he is vulnerable right now, Anthony. I’m going to help him get through this and then we’ll see what happens. We’re each sorting out the past right now.” Then Maggie turned to the other men. “’Bye, boys. I’m running into town and taking Scout. I’m making my appointments and then I can help, Nick.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’m not asking.” Nick’s pride slapped at her through the morning light. He wasn’t quite as modern a man as he thought, in his time of stress placing her neatly aside.

She’d been placed in life’s boxes before and didn’t like it. He needed her help and he was going to get it. “Too bad. Have fun putting my camper back.”

Maggie took off at a slow pace, furious with Nick for making decisions without talking to her. Instead of running at her side, Scout doubled back. Maggie recognized the dog’s affection for Nick and knew that he would care for her closely since the man’s attack at the restaurant.

Brent Templeton couldn’t possibly have found her—or wanted to find her, after all the attention she’d drawn to him. The description didn’t fit Brent at all, and yet the image of the man standing beside the channel nagged.

She fought to dismiss the idea that Brent would be near.

Anyone could have forged papers…. Pedigreed dogs were stolen all the time, either for resale or for breeding. Some people didn’t care about papers, they just wanted the dog for retrieving. Now, thanks to Nick’s efforts, Scout retrieved perfectly; she held in place until given the “go” signal. Secure in her treatment from Nick, Scout had proved that she wasn’t gun-shy or afraid of feathers.

Maggie geared up her pace into a full jog, noting in the tightness of her body that she hadn’t done her full set of warmups. She’d been too eager to get away from the Alessandro men.

After the strenuous lovemaking last night, her body still felt heavy and warm and sated.

Scout barked behind her, a happy sound, and Maggie turned to see Nick in his wet boxer shorts and running shoes jogging behind her. Tony had stopped in the road; he was bent over, apparently dragging in breath, his hands braced on his knees. Dante was keeping even with Nick, and while Dante’s expression said he was challenging his brother, Nick’s said that nothing could keep him from running with Maggie. Vinnie’s truck came alongside Dante and he leaped onto the running board, waving as he rode by her.

Maggie allowed Nick to catch up with her. Once he was beside her, she didn’t glance at him. With wet, shaggy hair and unshaven face, he made quite a morning picture in his sodden boxer undershorts. “You need new shoes. Those are too worn.”

He didn’t answer, but grimly matched his stride to hers.

She did a double-take, noting the inside-out boxer shorts.

“I needed an athletic supporter,” Nick growled. “I had to hurry.”

Maggie couldn’t help grinning. “You look ridiculous,
Nick. Go back to the house. I’m only going to run into town. I need to do a little business this morning and then—”

“Okay, I’ll go back. But only with you.” Nick suddenly turned, bent, and hefted her over his shoulder. “One way or the other.”

“You’re steamed, huh?” Nick said as Maggie sat beside him in his pickup.

“Being lugged around like a sack of flour—yes, I am steamed.” Maggie continued staring out at the early morning, already bright and foretelling a hot, dry August day without a breath of air.

His hand slid briefly on her bare thigh, then settled on her knee. The caress was just enough to remind her of last night’s sensuality—and his full, exhausting, mind-blowing possession of her. “Like I said, you’re cute when you’re in a snit. Your arms across your chest lift up your breasts, and the way you pout is very sexy.”

She lowered her arms to her midsection. “Shouldn’t you be concerned about the investigation today?”

Nick nodded, his expression serious. “I’ll think better when I know where you’re at and that you’re protected. This is a dangerous situation, honey, and I want you safe. Is that so bad?”

“I’ve handled my life so far. This is a takeover. Correction: a macho takeover.” She eyed him across the cab as Scout sat between them, and she looked down to the big hand on her thigh.

Nick took the hint and removed his hand from her leg and looped his arm around Scout, who was tongue-hanging-out-panting happy. “Jerry wants in on this. You wouldn’t deprive him of acting as a bodyguard, would you? I’ll pick you up later, or someone will bring you out to the winery. Keep Scout on that leash today.”

“You’re giving
me
orders?”

“Someone has to. Try to fit in with the plan and not cause trouble, okay? And if any investigators, other than Lorenzo,
want to talk with you, call me first. I’ll be there with you.” Nick slid the pickup alongside the sidewalk in front of Journeys. Immediately, Jerry came at a run, as if he’d been waiting to seize the moment, his big chance.

Puffed up and dressed in black, the youth was dressed for duty in army camouflage T-shirt and pants. Binoculars hung from his neck, and a variety of tools hung from his belt. Jerry briskly opened the passenger door for Maggie. He slapped the loaded pockets on the side of his pants. “Got a cell phone and a walkie-talkie. Tested it with Tony and Dante. The reception is good. I’ll take it from here,” he announced. “She’s safe with me. The checkpoints are set up. After taking care of the shop, she goes to Celeste’s to water plants, then to the gym, then maybe a stopover at your folks’ place. Any changes in schedule will be called in.”

Maggie didn’t let Nick escape her stare as he got out of the pickup and rounded it. “A little overdone, don’t you think?”

A movement on the street caused her to turn. Marco stood in front of his butcher shop, a big ham bone in his fist as if it were a club. Down one block, Dante stood casually, one hand on the florist’s display. He returned Nick’s brief wave.

As if he were patrolling, Tony drove by slowly on the street, and Nick nodded. Then he turned to Maggie’s accusing frown. “Got to go,” he said almost cheerfully. “Have a nice day, honey.”

When she remained silent, Nick shared a look with Jerry. “She gets that way. Take care of her, okay?”

“You got it.” Jerry whipped out a walkie-talkie. “Alpha One to Dinosaur. Alpha One—”

The metallic sound of Dante’s voice sizzled through the air. “You idiot. I’m not that old.”

“Um. Just checking. Dinosaur Pappy, are you reading me?”

This time Tony’s voice snapped. “Shut up, twerp. Don’t use that thing again until there’s trouble or the checkpoints have changed. Got it?”

“Someone has to be in charge of this operation.” Looking
pleased with himself, Jerry shoved the unit down into his pants cargo pocket. He put his hands behind him and braced his legs in a military stance.

Maggie shook her head. “This isn’t necessary. Nick…uh…Mmm….”

His goodbye kiss sizzled all the way down to her toes. With the little brain she had left, she grabbed his T-shirt, ignoring his wince. “Nick, if Beth calls, you tell her to stay put in Iowa, okay? Tell her what you have to, but keep her away. I don’t want her to be involved if this—”

His hands closed over hers. “I’ll take care of it.”

He understood her protective affection for Beth, compassion softening his dark eyes. Because he cared, Maggie stood on tiptoe to kiss him briefly. “Thanks.”

After Nick left for the winery, Maggie stood very still. Celeste’s goddess within the silver chimes seemed to turn slowly, too slowly, though the air was still.

As Maggie held her locket, a slight chill curled around her. The hairs on Maggie’s nape lifted, as if in warning. Scout, leashed and standing beside her, also watched the slow turning of the goddess, as if she, too, had been warned.

J
ust down the street, Ed noted the kid in camouflage, and saw Dante hanging around the florist shop. Dante, supposedly admiring the flowering baskets that hung from the canvas awning, had never been a fan of flowers. At this time of the morning, he was usually down at his boatyard. Yet this morning, he was hanging around town.

That damn Lorenzo Alessandro had been pushing Ed, asking questions about Leo Knute and Ed’s connection with him, and when was the last time he’d heard from Leo. That cop was bad news, as much as the rest of the Alessandros. The Crazy upstairs had better stay quiet and out of sight, because if he didn’t—

Nick Alessandro had just planted a big juicy one on the woman with the dog. The hotshot kid was tailing her into the old witch’s shop. Ed had seen enough television to know when a surveillance had been set up. So the Alessandros were out in force to protect the woman, were they?

Shirley came to stand beside Ed. He could trust her; he knew how to work what she needed, the little compliments,
the trinkets from the few heists he’d pulled in the summer people’s homes. She did everything he said, believed his excuses for being with other women and his rationale for his obsession with Beth—that he never quite got over his childhood sweetheart and Beth reminded him of that sweet, good time. He had told Shirley his obsession had to run its course and then he’d come back to stay.

“What’s he doing now?” Ed asked her.

“Sleeping. I mixed a dose of what you gave me in his food.”

Ed snorted in disgust. Brent Templeton might have been really something once—he kept yakking about everything that he had and how he ruled the world and had women at his call. But he was really just crazy as a loon—and he believed in his power over Ed—which only gave Ed a real edge on handling him.

His time was coming, Ed decided as he took one last drag on his cigarette. He flicked the butt onto the cobblestones. There was more than one way to get rid of that spooky psychic, the woman who had taken Beth from him, and Nick Alessandro.

He’d had Shirley following The Crazy, watching everything—The Crazy killing Celeste, breaking into her house, and killing the rich idiot who tore up Alessandro’s winery.

Unable to stand waiting longer, The Crazy had gone out that day to get the dog. Anyone with an ounce of sense would not have gone to the Alessandros’ Restaurant like that, waving papers in broad daylight and taking on the family.

That idiot could have given everything away right then, and Ed had convinced him that the locked apartment door was for his protection—it was really to keep him under control while Ed was busy. The drugs helped control The Crazy.

Beth would be back, and nothing could keep Ed from her this time. Everything was working out fine.

He nodded, satisfied that the game was being played exactly to his liking. So he had to put up with a few problems—the idiot’s demand to clean the apartment, his nitpicky
obsessions. Soon Ed would be done with lugging specially prepared food up to his renter. Did Brent actually think that Ed would be satisfied with a few bills, when he could have more?

Once that witch woman was gone, nothing could stop him. When bred with a good male, that dog’s pups would bring a pretty penny. Maggie had shamed him once with a sucker move, and she’d pay for that, and Nick for pushing his weight around. The Crazy would do all the work, and then…

Ed chuckled at how easily his superior brain could manipulate weaker minds, using their frailties against them.

He thought about Beth, how much he loved her, and how she’d come back to him. She was just a sweet kid, after all, and taking off with the farmboy would only prove that Ed was the best choice.

“Let’s go in, Shirley. You’re looking really good today. Is that a new shade of lipstick?” he asked and watched the compliment sink deep and strong as she preened. Shirley was a good old girl.

“You wanted to see me?” Maggie asked Lorna over the elegant house intercom. “What’s this about?”

“Just a minute.” Lorna opened the door and swept her hand in front of her, a grand gesture indicating Maggie should enter.

When the door closed, Maggie said, “I don’t have much time. You left a message for ‘Man Stealer’ on Celeste’s machine that you wanted to see me. You were right. I do know who you are without leaving a name. Make it fast. You said you had information about the winery and wanted a private tea party?”

A quick glance at the opulent entryway and the grand room beyond it said that Lorna’s tastes were very, very expensive.

Dressed as she had been before—in a tight-fitting sports bra, short spandex pants, and high-top laced gym boots—Lorna had been working out. She unlaced her boxing gloves
enough to slip them off, patted her sweaty face with the towel around her shoulders, and tossed the gloves aside on a brocade-covered bench. “Where’s the dog and how did you get rid of the kid tailing you?”

Maggie ignored the question. Scout was at Tony’s house and she’d sent Jerry on a “necessary errand”: Jerry didn’t want to go into the grocery store for feminine supplies. And she’d said she wasn’t coming out of the bathroom until he got what she wanted. Once Jerry had left the house, Maggie had hurried to Lorna’s. “What do you know, Lorna?”

“We’re going to have to play this my way, got it? Come on back.”

Maggie followed Lorna through the elegant house to a well-stocked workout room. The punching bag was still swinging. “Let’s have it.”

“I hear Nick’s winery was pretty well smashed.”

Maggie nodded; it was hard to miss the big crime-scene van parked next to the winery and all the yellow ribbon blocking off entrances to the place.

Lorna moved to a large framed mirror. At the touch of a hidden button, it swung open and a gush of cool air swept against Maggie. With an assessing look, Lorna folded her arms in front of her chest. “You’d fight for him, wouldn’t you?”

“If this is—”

“You’re going to have to take this package as I give it to you. I’m mixed up and know it. Therefore, I do mixed-up things. I’ve got two rotten marriages behind me, and Vinnie—”

“Vinnie?” The name shocked Maggie. Was it possible that Nick’s own cousin—?

“It’s not what you’re thinking. Vinnie is a good guy. He understands me and he doesn’t ask anything. He got me started on kickboxing to defend myself. I was a pampered butt once and I liked being a spoiled rich bitch. Maybe I still do. You were right. Nick was someone I couldn’t have—more of a challenge than anything else. Vinnie thinks my father soured me for most men.”

Lorna paused briefly and then continued as if nothing could stop her admission, “I’m Vinnie’s girlfriend. I have been through everything, and he hasn’t pointed any fingers at me. We work out at night, sometimes put a car together, and I like welding and machines, something Daddy wouldn’t understand. I got a little worked up over this whole thing last night when we were practicing kickboxing and punched Vinnie too hard. My aim was off. I just wasn’t focused. He’s wearing a black eye this morning and I really feel bad about that. It was an accident.”

She flicked on a switch, and light sprang from the stairway leading downward. She entered the stairway and paused to look up at Maggie. “Sixty degrees. A private cellar. And well stocked. Enough to help Nick meet some orders. It’s the only thing that Vinnie ever asked of me—to help Nick. Vinnie said he understood about me holding the twenty acres of Nick’s land. Just keeping something that someone else really wanted. If you think that I’m going to get you down here and do something weird, forget it.”

Her voice lost that hard tone and shifted to a softer one. “Vinnie wouldn’t stand for that, and I guess I love him. He’s sweet, the kind of deep-down sweet that nothing is going to change. What I have or don’t have, or how I act, doesn’t make any difference to him. And he doesn’t make fun of my cooking, either. I always wanted to learn how, and oh, no, Daddy and my ex-husbands had to hire a cook for ‘the image.’”

Stunned, Maggie slowly descended the stairs after Lorna. Cases of Nick’s wines were stacked everywhere. Lorna’s tone turned defensive again. “I said I had problems. I was thinking at the time that if I couldn’t get the man, I’d get part of something he loved.”

Lorna pivoted to Maggie and shoved a fat file of papers at her. “I called in a few favors and they acted as buyers for me. Receipts, purchase dates. I’m ready to title those twenty acres back to him, too. You’ve got to promise you won’t spread this around. Talk to Nick and get this to go down
smooth—that’s what you’re for—he’s in love with you. Any idiot can see that. The wines have aged and they’re good. The thermostat daily readouts are in the file. This room has been kept at a perfect temperature—I simply enlarged after Daddy died. Nick ought to make a profit off them as a special, private stock sale. He can pay whenever. Or not. I don’t care. This is for Vinnie. And maybe for me, too. But I don’t want this to get out,” she added fiercely. “I’d look like a stupid fool.”

Amazed at Lorna’s admission and her kindness, Maggie asked softly, “Lorna, why don’t you want people to know how very special you are?”

For the first time, Lorna’s brisk, tough attitude crumpled and tears welled in her eyes. “It started a long time ago with dear old Dad. The family image wasn’t sweet and wholesome when no one else was around. You learn how to protect yourself as a kid and then it just gets deeper, the need to be special and wanted, to make that old man proud of me. Vinnie doesn’t want us to go public because he says his image will hurt me. He said people will think he’s after my money—what a load of macho dumb duck dung.”

This woman faced her own struggle with life, just as Maggie had. Where Glenda did not have the inner strength to depend on herself, Lorna had had a lifetime of trying.

Maybe, just maybe, Maggie should have let Glenda do her own fighting. Maybe as an older sister, she’d protected Glenda too much, so that when the time came, she couldn’t make the right choices.

Maggie shook herself free of the past and said, “Lorna, you are special. And I know it. I’ll talk to Vinnie.”

“If you hug me, the deal is off. I’ve got a little favor to ask though. It won’t cost or hurt,” she added quickly.

“Anything. Meanwhile, I’ve got to go see if Jerry has found my brand of tampons yet. You asked how I got rid of him. That’s how. What’s the favor?”

Lorna looked down and spoke quietly. “I’m rich and I’ve never really dealt with an everyday working woman’s prob
lems. There’s a big gap of understanding about life between Vinnie and me. I want to get a job and I want to learn how to cook. I thought maybe you could help me get into both—maybe a job at Journeys, if it’s okay with Beth, and maybe have Mrs. Alessandro teach me how to cook. And if you laugh, I’ll clobber you and the deal is off.”

“I’m not laughing, but you’ve got to promise not to tell Jerry that I just wanted to get rid of him, sending him to get fem supplies. He was disgusted, but at least he thought he was helping me and I was safe. It wouldn’t do to let him know that I’d come here meanwhile, okay?”

“Deal.”

Lorna’s generosity and that knowing smile about male aversions and how to use them held a warmth that carried Maggie through the morning.

At the winery, Nick was busy with investigators amid the shambles of his business. He looked tired and drained, but drew her against him for a brief kiss. He continued to hold her tight as if nothing could happen to her.

“So this is your fiancée?” the investigator interviewing Nick asked. The man’s badge read
DETECTIVE RON SIMMONS
.

Because Maggie didn’t want to argue the point before she’d made Lorna’s case, she nodded and smiled up at Nick brightly. He blinked and frowned and stared at her blankly. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, honey,” she managed sweetly, innocently. “If you don’t need me here, I think I’ll go home. I’m a little tired.”

Nick’s blush was fascinating, because he knew the reason for her fatigue—last night’s marathon lovemaking to keep his mind from his winery. “Uh. Just so you know, I haven’t had time to move the camper. Uh…do you mean home as in the house?”

She didn’t want to start an argument now, in front of the detective, and nodded. “You silly thing. You’re all upset, aren’t you? Why don’t you just take care of the detective here, and I’ll see you later?”

Nick relaxed a bit, smiled, and shared a man-to-man look. “I was supposed to do that today. Then this came up. One of those honey-do things.”

The detective, a middle-aged man wearing a wedding ring, nodded sagely and stepped in to protect one of the brotherhood. “Ma’am, take it easy on the guy. He’s just lost a hell of a lot of income. Those honey-do jobs will have to wait. And he’s going to have to do something about that incoming crop, and his equipment has been vandalized.”

Maggie gave him her brightest a-man-knows-best smile. “Thank you, Detective. That’s good advice.”

Nick’s puzzled frown at her deepened. He was still frowning when she kissed him goodbye.

After a session of explaining every detail of a woman’s cramps to Jerry, her bodyguard settled in Nick’s living room to watch a ball game, thus effectively avoiding more information and giving Maggie the privacy she needed.

Then Maggie set to work. First she called Beth in Iowa for an update.

But before Maggie could speak, Beth had her own happy update: “I think I’m pregnant. We did it on Celeste’s bed with candles and everything. It’s too early for a test, but Jeff has what it takes. Just within minutes of meeting him, I knew she was right. I knew he was the guy for me, and I am so in love. While we were doing it, I just got this warm snugly feeling, just like all of me was ready and revved. He said he didn’t want to take a chance I might get away from him, and he was ready to plow and seed and take possession of what was born to be his. Gosh, he’s romantic. And Celeste’s cats love the farm’s big barn. Who would know?”

Apparently recovered from the lesson on women, Jerry went out to his pickup to retrieve Celeste’s plants. While he slumped by Maggie in his surly slave attitude, carrying the plants, Beth raved on about Iowa and Jeff. Maggie enjoyed every delightful word; Beth deserved every happiness.