She brought out a magnifying glass and examined the bullet with precision. „No, it’s too mangled, like I said. Not many people make their own bullets anymore.“
„Any of your customers?“ Mia asked. „Any on the list of marksmen you gave us?“
The old woman thought. „There are a handful, but none have a mark.“ She eyed the black case. „So what’s inside, Detective Mitchell?“
Mia popped the latches. „My dad’s gun.“ And she smiled when Diana’s eyes grew wide and reverent. „It’s a real treasure.“ Then she snapped the case closed when Diana reached out to touch it. „Maybe later.“
Diana lifted a brow. „Quid pro quo, huh?“
„Depends. Me and my partner need information on the mark on this bullet. If I can get a decent sketch, can you post it on your bulletin board?“
Diana conceded with a dignified nod. „I’m the cooperative sort, Detective Mitchell. In fact, I’ll do you one better. I’ll ask all my most enthusiastic sharpshooting friends to come in for a little get-together, and we’ll make you a list of all the marks we recall.“
Kristen heard Reagan’s laugh rumble softly above her ear. „She’s good, isn’t she?“ he asked and Kristen leaned her head back to look up at his profile. His eyes were focused on Mia, his mouth bent in a smile that held pride as well as amusement. He wasn’t a man to be threatened by the skill of another, even when the other was a woman, and that alone set him apart from most of the men she knew.
„Yes. Yes, she is. Where are we going next?“
„Mia and I are going to King High School. We got a picture off the surveillance video of the kid who delivered that box to your house and we want to pass it around. There’ll be kids on the basketball court across from the school all day since it’s Saturday.“
„If you’re thirty minutes late, is that a problem?“
He looked down at her with a puzzled frown. „I guess not. Why?“
Kristen turned to the glass counter. „Because I’m going to buy a gun.“
Saturday, February 21,
5:00 p.m.
„Can I talk to you for a minute, Jacob?“
Jacob Conti looked up to find Elaine standing in the doorway of his office, wringing her hands. „What is it, Elaine?“ But he knew.
She approached in that timid way of hers. She’d made him think of a delicate bird when he’d first met her, twenty-five years ago now. She still did. „I’ve been trying to reach Angelo all day. I’m starting to get very worried. He was supposed to meet his friends at the club for racquetball and he never showed up. Can you send Drake to search for him?“
Conti nodded. „Certainly, dear. Try not to worry.“
She came closer and kissed his cheek. „I’ll try. Thank you, Jacob.“
He let her leave without telling her that he already had Drake Edwards and three others searching for Angelo. So far, they’d turned up nothing.
A sick feeling settled in his stomach. Angelo, you had to go and open your big mouth. As if you weren’t a target in the first place, you had to go on television, for God’s sake.
If anything happened to his son… Someone would pay.
And Jacob Conti was not a man accustomed to making idle threats.
Saturday, February 21,
7:00 p.m.
She’d surprised him once again, Abe thought as he watched Kristen order their meal in Italian, then go on to converse fluently with their waiter. He’d brought her to Rossellini’s, an Italian place his family had loved since he was a boy. There was a cozy warmth here, and tremendous food. And unlike Mia, Kristen seemed to have an open mind for new culinary experiences.
Watching her smile as Italian flowed from her lips, he couldn’t help but wonder if she had an open mind for other experiences as well. All day as she’d sat next to him in the SUV he’d breathed in her fragrance, watched the play of emotions across her face, some subtle and others not so. He’d watched her tense every time her cell phone rang, knowing she endured harassment from the frightened defense attorneys who’d had the misfortune to share her courtroom. He’d watched her look over her shoulder all day, wondering if she was the subject of scrutiny of cameras or gang members or her humble servant.
And all through the day, Abe replayed the events of the night before in his mind. The heated interest in her normally wary green eyes. The simple compassion when she’d urged him to talk about Debra. And he’d wondered what it would be like.
With her.
He wondered what it would be like to see her solemn face smile every day, to hear her laugh, unfettered by worry. Then he wondered if he was being foolish, latching on to the first wholesome woman he’d come across since coming out from undercover. Kristen was a woman of integrity, intelligence. Beauty and grace. He’d met very few women with those qualities in the last five years. They didn’t tend to hang around drug and weapons dealers.
He kept remembering the day he first saw her. He hadn’t lied the night before. He had been stunned. Then captivated. Then aroused. Incredibly, unmistakably aroused. He’d stayed in the character of his cover that day, spouting innuendo and earning a few slaps on the back from his underworld accomplices. But the mental images hadn’t faded, had stayed fixed in his mind as he’d completed the arrest that had been staged to give his cover credibility. He was one of them then, arrested, with a record. He’d been released on bail shortly thereafter and had returned to the dark, dirty part of the city his cover called home.
But as soon as he’d been able, he slipped away to see Debra in the hospice center, sitting by her bed, massaging her hands and feet, quietly speaking her name while mentally tormenting himself with guilty self-recriminations. He’d lusted after another woman while his wife lay in a silent hell.
Now, his wife was at peace, finally. And he still lusted after Kristen Mayhew.
It was with obvious regret that the waiter broke off their conversation to get back to his other customers. Kristen turned to him, then her green eyes widened and he realized what he was thinking must be written all over his face. For a moment he considered casually laughing it off. But her eyes slowly heated and a rosy blush darkened her cheeks. The tip of her tongue appeared, wetting her lips and Abe almost groaned aloud.
„I’m sorry,“ she said. „That was rude of me to ignore you. It’s just been a long time since I’ve had a chance to use my Italian.“
„Don’t apologize. I enjoyed listening to you. I didn’t know you spoke Italian.“
She lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. „I spent a year in Italy when I was in college. I picked up a lot of conversational Italian, but I’m sure my grammar is atrocious. I know I’m rusty as hell.“ She picked up her menu, fidgeting with the corner. „You didn’t have to take me to dinner, you know. Spinnelli has a cruiser stationed outside my house. I think I’ll be all right on my own.“
Something inside him stirred, hot and restless. „Did it occur to you that I might want to be with you? That my bringing you here has nothing to do with this case?“
She looked up and met his eyes. „Yes.“ Her voice had dropped, gone husky, sending tingles of sensation racing across his skin. „Yes, it did.“
He swallowed hard. A thousand responses ran through his mind, all of them completely inappropriate and guaranteed to make her pull away.
„Ah, signorina.“
Abe bit back a curse at the interruption as Kristen’s face lifted to a beaming Tony Rossellini, the heart and soul of the restaurant and one of his parents’ oldest friends. He made himself smile. „Tony, it’s so good to see you.“
Tony’s eyes widened in surprise, and with amusement Abe realized the old man hadn’t come by to see him. „Abe. Abe Reagan. My nephew did not tell me it was you with this beautiful signorina tonight. It is good to see you. Your parents were in just last week and never mentioned you were back in town.“