Covet - A Novel of Fallen Angel Part 12

What a mess it had been. What a mess it still was.

Marie-Terese took the bowl of cereal to her son and got him one of their two TV trays. As she walked around, her heart was pounding so hard it was a wonder Robbie couldnat hear the thing, but she did her best to remain calm on the surface.

Clearly, he didnat buy the act. aAre we going to move again, Mama?a She paused in the process of flipping open the trayas legs. She didnat lie to her sona"okay, not about the majority of thingsa"but she wasnat sure how to coach her words.

But then there was no way to do that, was there.

As her phone rang again, she looked at him before she accepted the call from the sitters. aI donat know.a

CHAPTER 17.

As Vin drove through Caldwellas outer reaches, his efficiency was autopilot more than awareness, and it was hard to know what was riding him harder: the s.h.i.+t with those dead boys or that hideous dream about Devina.

The cops were absolutely going to show up at the Iron Mask for a hi-howare-ya-what-the-f.u.c.k, and if anyone said a peep about what had gone down in the hallway, they were going to want to see what those security cameras had caught. Which wouldnat be good news. Sure, neither he nor Jim had thrown the first punch or pulled a knife, but then, they were still breathing whereas the other two had had a matching set of lead pacemakers implanted in their chests.

And that horrible nightmareait had been so real, he could still feel those bony hands locked onto his shoulders. h.e.l.l, as he thought about it, his c.o.c.k shriveled behind his fly like the thing wanted to hibernate in his lower intestine.

You made a bargain and youave taken everything I brought into your life, youave eaten it, drank it, f.u.c.ked ita"Iam responsible for it all and you owe me.

Bargain? What bargain? As far as he knew, head made nothing of the sort with her. Or anybody else.

Whatever, he was arguing about what had been in a dream. Which was nuts.

Bottom line, he was going to end things with Devina as fast as he coulda"and not because his subconscious clearly had issues with her. The thing was, their relations.h.i.+p wasnat based on love and it wasnat even based on pa.s.sion. Pa.s.sion was s.e.x with soul, and no matter how many times shead made him come, only his body had been in it.

Head thought that would be enough. Head a.s.sumed that was what he wanted. But his first clue that something was off was when he couldnat even ask her the big question.

And then looking into Marie-Tereseas eyes had sealed the deal.

Of course, it didnat mean that he and Marie-Terese were going to ride off into the sunset together; his reaction to her just told him there was a whole lot missing between him and the woman head thought he was going to marry.

G.o.d, the past tense in that was as jarring as a slap in the face.

Refocusing on the road, he cursed when he realized where he was. Instead of driving to his office, which was what head intended, head ended up on Trade Street, and as he pa.s.sed by the front entrance of the Iron Mask, he slowed. There were two cop cars parked across from the club and a uniform by the main door.

The smart thing was to keep going.

And he did. Sort of.

Vin went to the next street and hung a left, making a box around the club and heading for where the cars parked in back. Just as he came into the lot, he stopped. There were more police cars in the rear, and on the next block over, yellow crime scene tape was stretched between two buildings.

So that was where the murders had taken place.

The beep of a car horn brought his eyes to the rearview mirror. Behind him was a dark green Toyota Camryaand Marie-Terese was in the driveras seat.

Popping the gears.h.i.+ft into neutral, he pulled the parking brake and got out. As he walked over to her car, she put down the windowa"which he took as a good sign.

Man, he liked the way she looked with her hair back in a ponytail and just a red turtleneck and blue jeans on. Without all the makeup, she was truly beautiful, and as he leaned in, he smelled not perfume, but dryer sheets, the kind that were like suns.h.i.+ne in the nose.

Vin breathed deeply and felt his shoulders ease up for the first time sinceayeah, right, like he could remember when.

aDid they call you, too?a she asked, staring up at him.

He shook himself back to attention. aThe police? Not yet. You going to talk to them now?a She nodded. aTrez called me about a half hour ago. I was lucky I could get a sitter.a Sitter? His eyes flipped to the steering wheel where her hands were. No wedding ring, but maybe she had a boyfriendaalthough what kind of man would let his woman do what she did every night? Vin would wh.o.r.e himself out first if she were his.

c.r.a.pahow was she going to get around the inevitable question about what she did at the club?

aListen, if you need a lawyer, I know some good ones.a Well, wasnat this the day for throwing attorney cards around. aMaybe you should get one first before you talk to the police, given what youa"a aIall be okay. Trez isnat worried, and Iam not going to be until he is.a As her eyes bounced around, he realized she already had an exit strategy, and it didnat take an Einstein to figure out what it might be. Clearly, she was just going to disappear if things got too hot, and for some reason that freaked him right out.

aI have to head in,a she said, nodding at his car. aYouare blocking the way to the parking lot.a aOh, yeah. Sure.a He hesitated.

The question he needed to ask her jammed in his throat, blocked by a conviction of not-here-not-now, and propelled by a whole lot of but-when.

aI have to go,a she said.

aWhat did I say to you last night? In the locker room. When I, you knowaa As she blanched, he wanted to hit himself. aI meana"a aIam sorry, but I really have to go.a s.h.i.+t, he shouldnat have brought it up.

With a silent curse, he bounced his fist once on the roof as a good-bye and headed for his car. Back in the M6, he put the engine in first, released the clutch, and eased out of her way, turning around slowly as she parked nose-first to the club and got out of her Camry.

The owner opened the rear door as she came up to it, and the guy scanned the parking lot, as if he were watching out for her. When his eyes got to the M6, he nodded as if head known all along Vin was there, and suddenly Vin felt his temples sting, pressure building in his head as if something were pus.h.i.+ng into him. All at once, his thoughts scrambled like a deck of cards pushed off a table, flying off in all directions, scattering faces up and faces down.

As soon as it began, it was over, his mind righted, everything from his aces to his jokers back in order.

While he winced and rubbed his head, Trez smiled tightly and said something to Marie-Terese, which caused her to look over her shoulder at the M6. Before the two of them ducked inside, she raised her hand in a little wave and then the door shut behind them.

Rain started to fall and Vinas wipers came on automatically, sweeping up and down, up and down.

His corporate offices were not far from here, only five minutes, and there was plenty of work to do there: Architectural plans to review. Permit applications to approve before they were submitted. Offers to buy and sell land or houses that needed to be countered. Inspections to delegate. p.i.s.sing contests between contractors to settle.

Plenty of s.h.i.+t for him to do.

Except evidently, head rather wait here like a dog for her to come out again.

Pathetic.

Vin took off, leaving the Iron Mask and going toward the skysc.r.a.pers by the river. The building he had his offices in was one of the newest and tallest in Caldwell, and when he got to it, he swiped his access card and went down into the underground garage. After leaving the M6 in his designated s.p.a.ce, he rode up in the elevator, pa.s.sing floors of law offices and accounting firms and big-name insurance companies.

The ding for the forty-fourth floor sounded, the doors opened, and he got off and strode by the reception desk. Up high on the dense black wall behind it, done in golden letters and lit from below, was the name of his business: THE DIPIETRO GROUP.

Group. What a lie that was. Even though some twenty employees had desks here, and he had hundreds of contractors and workmen on his payroll every week, there was him and that was it.

Walking down the plush black carpet to his office, he felt stronger with every stride. This business of his was something he knew about and controlleda. Head built the whole d.a.m.n thing up from the ground, just like he did his houses, until the corporation was better and bigger than anything like it.

As he came into his corner office, he flipped the light switch and all of the tigerwood paneling head handpicked glowed like sun rays. In the middle of his black desk, there was a legal-size manila envelope on the blotter, and he thought, Ah, yes, Tom Williams always worked as hard as he did.

Vin sat down and opened the flap, sliding out the folded land study and approved plot plan of the three parcels of a hundred or so acres he had just closed on. The project that unified the separate farms was going to be a masterpiece, one hundred fifty luxury homes in what was currently horse country in Connecticut. The goal was to attract Stamford commuters who were willing to drive forty-five minutes to work so they could live like they were Greenwich high rollers.

He was going to start demolition and construction as soon as the bids from contractors were where he wanted them to be. The land was perfectly sound, with a low water table that meant owners werenat going to have to worry about their wine cellars getting a bath every spring, and he was going to run water and electric and sewer in through an interlocking underground system. First move, as was the case with the bluff property, was going to be tearing down all the old farmhouses and barns, but head decided to leave the stone marking walls in place to keep some charactera"provided they didnat get in the way.

He was feeling good about all of it, especially for the price head gotten everything for. Times were tough and his offers more than fair. Besides, head sent Tom to do the negotiating with the local Realtors, which meant those poor f.u.c.kers hadnat stood a chance.

Tom was his baby-faced killer. The guy was a Harvard MBA with a vicious drivea"who happened to look like he was twelve. Sweet-as-apple-pie Tom had no problem posing as an environmental conservationist and making unactionable, verbal commitments to preserve land that was in fact going to be developed.

Well, he had no problem now. In the beginning, Vin had had to coach him into it, but as soon as the money had really started rolling in, the guy had gotten with the program and then some.

The pair of them had done the dog and pony show so many times, it was practically rote, with Tom going in and snowing the prospects with tree-hugger charm while Vin marshaled the money and got the permit and contracting side of things worked out. It was precisely how theyad gotten the property on the Hudson River, that quartet of old hunting cabins yielding the ten acres he was putting his grand house on.

When it came to his palace, he could have built anywhere, but he chose that peninsula because of the golden rule in real estate: location, location, location. Unless an earthquake shaved California off the West Coast, or every polar ice cap in Alaska melted, they werenat making more waterfront, and you had to think of resale.

Sure as s.h.i.+t in another couple of years, he was going to want something bigger and better than what he was building now and that was another thing he was coaching Baby-face Tom on: Tom was the one who was buying the duplex at the Commodore.

Nothing like bringing the next generation along.

Vin picked up the phone and called his lieutenant, prepared to advance the ball even farther with the Connecticut project.

aThank you, maaam. I think thatas all we need right now.a Marie-Terese frowned and glanced at Trez, who was sitting next to her on one of the clubas velvet couches. As he uncrossed his legs as if he were getting ready to stand up, he seemed utterly unsurprised at how little time the questioning had takena"almost as if head prepped the police officer into keeping it short and sweet.

She looked back at the cop. aThatas it?a The officer closed his notebook and rubbed his temple like it hurt. aDetective de la Cruz is in charge of the investigation and he might have more questions later, but youare not a suspect or anything.a He nodded at Trez. aThank you for cooperating.a Trez smiled a little. aIam sorry those security cameras werenat working. Like Iave said, Iave been meaning to get them fixed for months now. I have a log of malfunctions that Iad be happy to show you, by the way.a aWell, Iall take a look at it, butaa The man rubbed his left eye. aBut as you say, you have nothing to hide.a aNot a thing. Let me see her out first and then weall go to my office?a aSure. Iall wait here.a As Marie-Terese walked off with Trez and they headed down the back hallway, she said quietly, aI canat believe they arenat going any further with this. I donat know why I even needed to come.a Trez opened the rear door and put his hand on her shoulder. aI told you I would take care of things.a aAnd you really did.a Her eyes searched the parking lot and she hesitated in the doorway. aSo you saw that Vin came by.a aThat his name?a aItas what he said it was.a aHe makes you uneasy.a On a lot of levels. aYou donat suppose he and his frienda"a aKilled those guys? Nope.a aHow can you be so sure?a She got her car keys out of her pocketbook. aI mean, you donat know them. They could have gone back andaa Except even as she said the words, she didnat believe them: She couldnat imagine Vin and his friend being the killer or killers. Theyad fought with those boys, sure, but theyad done that to protect her and had stopped before they seriously hurt them. Besides, Vin had been with her right afterward in the locker room.

Although G.o.d only knew exactly when the shootings had occurred.

Trez leaned in and gently stroked her cheek. aStop it. You donat have to worry about Vin or his buddy. I get feelings about people and Iam always right.a She frowned. aI donat believe those security cameras are broken. Youad never put up with thata"a aThose two guys took care of you when I wasnat here. And so I take care of them.a Trez put his arm around her and walked her over to her car. aYou see your Vin again, tell him not to worry about anything. Iave got his back.a Marie-Terese blinked in the bright cold sunlight. aHeas not mine.a aOf course not.a She stared up at Trez. aHow can you be so certaina"a aStop worrying and trust me. When it comes to you, that manas heart is not dark.a After everything she had been through, Marie-Terese had learned not to put her faith in what was said to her. What she listened to was the security alarm in the center of her chesta"and as she looked into Trezas eyes, her inner warning bell was utterly silent: He knew exactly what he was talking about. She didnat have a clue how, but then Trez had ways, as they saidaways of finding things out and fixing problems and taking care of business.

So yeah, the police werenat going to see anything he didnat want them to. And Vin hadnat killed those two boys.

Unfortunately that pair of convictions gave her only a measure of relief.

Heas coming for youa.

Trez unlocked her door for her and then gave her back her keys. aI want you to take tonight off. This is tough stuff.a She got in, but before starting the engine, she glanced up and spoke her greatest fear. aTrez, what if those killings have something to do with me. What if someone saw them with me, someone other than Vin? What ifathey were shot because of me.a Her bossas eyes grew sharp, like he knew every single thing she had never told him. aAnd who in your life would do such a thing.a Heas coming for youa.

G.o.d, Trez knew about Mark. He had to. And yet Marie-Terese forced herself to say, aNo one. I donat know anyone who would do that.a Trezas stare narrowed like he didnat appreciate the lie, but was willing to respect it. aWell, you decide to answer that in a different way, you can come to me for help. And even if you decide to pull out of town, I need to know if thatas the why.a aOkay,a she heard herself say.

aGood.a aBut Iall be back at ten tonight.a She pulled her seat belt across her chest. aI need to work.a aI wonat argue with you, but I donat agree with you. Just remember, you see your Vin, you tell him I got his back.a aHeas not mine.a aRight. Drive carefully.a Marie-Terese shut her door, forced the Camry to start, and turned around. As she came out on Trade, she put her hand in the pocket of her fleece.

Vin diPietroas card was exactly where shead put it after shead found it tucked in her duffel, and as she got his information out, she thought of the way head looked this morning with his beaten up face and his smart, concerned eyes.

It felt odd to realize she was frightened more by what he might know, and not of what he might be.

The thing was, she was a Scully kind of girl, a nonbeliever in all that X Filesa"esque stuff. She didnat believe in horoscopes, much lessamuch less whatever could turn a grown man into some kind of channel forayeah, whatever. She didnat believe in that.

At least, not usually.

The trouble was, after having spent most of the night replaying what had happened in the locker room with him, she wondered if it was possible that something you didnat believe in could in fact be real: Head been terrified in the midst of that trance, and unless head pulled off an Oscar-worthy performance today, he honestly had no clue what head said to her and he was honestly worried about what it all meant.

Taking her cell phone out of her purse, she dialed the number at the bottom of his card that didnat have cell or fax written next to it. Except as the ringing started, she remembered it was Sat.u.r.day, and if this was the office number, she was going to get voice mail. What could she say?

Hi, Iam the prost.i.tute Mr. diPietro helped out last night and Iam calling to rea.s.sure him that my pimp is going to take care of everything. He doesnat have to worry about those two dead bodies in the alley.

Perfect. Just the kind of a Post-it note head want his a.s.sistant sticking to his desk.

She dropped the phone from her ear and put her thumb over the end b.u.t.tona"

ah.e.l.lo?a came a male voice.

She scrambled to get the cell back into place. ah.e.l.lo? AhaIam looking for Mr. dia"a aMarie-Terese?a Oh, that deep voice was dangerous. Caught up in the sound of it, she almost said, No, itas Gretchen. aAh, yes. Iam sorry to bother you, buta"a aNo, Iam glad you called. Is there anything wrong?a She frowned and hit her directional signal. aWell, no. I just wanted you to knowa"a aWhere are you? Still at the club?a aI just left.a aYou have breakfast yet?a aNo.a Oh, G.o.d.

aYou know the Riverside Diner?a aYes.a aIall see you there in five minutes.a She glanced at the clock on the dash. The babysitter was supposed to be at the house until noon, so there was plenty of time, but she had to wonder what kind of door she was opening. A big part of her wanted to run from Vin because he was too handsome and too much her type and she was an idiot if she didnat learn from the past.

But then she reminded herself she could bolt. At the drop of a hat. h.e.l.l, she was on the verge of pulling out of Caldwell completely anyway.

Heas coming for youa.

Remembering the words head spoken to her gave her the impetus to meet with him. Attraction concerns aside, she wanted to know what head seen and why head said those things.

aOkay, Iall see you there.a She ended the call, flicked her directional signal to the other side, and headed for one of Caldwellas landmarks.

The Riverside Diner was just two miles away and so close to the Hudsonas sh.o.r.eline, the only way it could get any nearer was if the booths were anch.o.r.ed by buoys and floating in the current. The dining car had been rolled onto its blocks in the 1950s, before the EPA laws, and still had original everything, from the Naugahyde twirling stools at the Formica counter, to the jukebox extensions at each table, to the soda fountain from which the waitresses still pulled c.o.kes for customers.

Shead been there once or twice before with Robbie. He liked the pie.

When she walked in, she saw Vin diPietro right away. He was sitting in the last booth over on the left, and facing the door. As their eyes met, he got to his feet.

Even with the s.h.i.+ner, the bruise on his cheek, and the swelling on his lower lip, he was stunningly s.e.xy.

Boyaas she walked over, she wished she had a thing for accountants, podiatrists, or chess players. Maybe even florists.

aHi,a she said as she sat down.

On the tableas countertop, there were a pair of menus, two sets of stainless-steel silverware on paper napkins, and a pair of thick ceramic mugs.

It was all so down to earth, homey, cute. And in his black cashmere sweater and his toffee suede jacket, Vin looked like he should have been at a fancy caf, instead.

aHi.a He lowered himself slowly into his seat, his eyes locked on her. aCoffee?a aPlease.a He lifted his hand and a waitress with a red ap.r.o.n and a red-and-white uniform came over.

aTwo coffees, thanks.a As the woman left to go get the pot, Vin tapped his red-and-white menu. aI hope youare hungry?a Marie-Terese opened hers and looked at all the choices, thinking that every single one of them was appropriate for a Fourth of July picnic. Okay, maybe not all the breakfast items, but this was the kind of place where the word salad always had a modifier like chicken, potato, egg, or macaroni, and lettuce was only for sandwiches.

It was glorious, actually.

aSee anything you like?a Vin asked.