Laura and the Lawman Page 6

  “They call it a property settlement, Michael.”

  She really was the most infuriating woman. Didn’t she want to better herself? Why was she wasting her potential on Joseph Merrill, and who knew how many other men just like him that she’d been with? Was the reason as simple as the one she’d stated? That her father never gave her the affection she craved?

  The waitress brought their bill. After giving it a glance, Antonio placed enough money to cover the charge, plus a generous tip, on the table.

  He nodded to Ruby. “Ready?”

  “Just a minute.” She fished her wallet from her purse and placed several dollar bills on top of the ones he’d already left.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Adding to the tip.”

  He stared at her in exasperation. Did she think he was a tightwad, out to stiff a person who had served them well?

  “I already left twenty percent.”

  “I know. But waitresses are notoriously underpaid. Every little bit extra helps.”

  “Joseph won’t reimburse that.”

  “I don’t care.” Standing, she made her way to the front of the diner.

  Bemused, Antonio watched her for a long minute before following. By her own admission, she was a woman whose main goal in life was to marry a rich man, yet she’d thrown away her own money on a woman she would never see again. It galled him anew that she had such low expectations for herself.

  As they walked to the truck, he decided to give it one last try.

  “Not to beat a dead horse, but you’re throwing your life away, Ruby. Can’t you see that?”

  She eyed him curiously. “You’re referring to my relationship with Joseph?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even if it is true, why should it bother you?”

  Antonio stifled a curse. She’d done it again. She’d made him forget who he was supposed to be. And what he was supposed to be doing.

  “Damned if I know,” he muttered.

  “I guess this means you wouldn’t want an invitation to the wedding.”

  He started. Had things gone that far between her and Joseph?

  “Joseph has asked you to marry him?”

  “Not yet. But it’s coming, I can feel it. Good thing I don’t need much lead time. When your brother’s a priest, you can be pretty flexible with your plans.”

  He paused with his hand on the passenger door handle. “Your brother’s a priest?”

  She dimpled. “Someone has to atone for my sins. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  She climbed up into the truck, and he closed the door after her. As he buckled himself into the driver’s seat, Antonio decided it was time to do the work he’d been sent here to do. His superiors had gone to great pains to make his cover just perfect. Hopefully, the reason Joseph had hired him was as much for his “past record” as for his abilities as an auctioneer.

  “Maybe your brother could work on my sins,” he said.

  “You mean you’re not the mild-mannered auctioneer everyone believes you to be?”

  He started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. “Is any man what he appears to be?”

  “You do have a past, then.”

  “You could say that.”

  “A murky past,” she observed, with obvious relish.

  “I did some time once, back when I was young and stupid.”

  “How much time?”

  “My sentence was five years, but I was released after serving thirty months. Good behavior.”

  “What were you convicted of?”

  If she already knew, she wasn’t letting on. “Possession, with the intent to sell.”

  Still no judgment on her face. “Were you a dealer?”

  He had to tread carefully here. If she was, as he suspected, Joseph’s eyes and ears on this trip, and if she was going to report back every word he said, he didn’t want Joseph to think he was going to try to horn in on his business.

  “From time to time I’d sell stuff.”

  “Why?”

  “For the money, of course.”

  “What did your sister think of that?” she asked.

  To make his cover story easier to remember, Antonio had given Michael the same five brothers and one sister that he had. “She hated it. Unlike me, she’s pretty much of a straight arrow.”

  “Like my brother.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You said you were young and stupid,” Ruby commented. “Does that mean you’ve reformed your ways?”

  He chose his words carefully and for the greatest effect. “I like money, Ruby. Like I said earlier, it’s my number-one need. Truth is, I’d do most anything to get it. I just won’t be stupid enough to get caught again.”

  “I see,” she said slowly.

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “Why should I be disappointed?”

  That’s what he wondered.

  Chapter 4

  “W ho lives out in the middle of nowhere like this?” Michael groused as the truck hit a dip in the dirt road and gave an alarming bounce.

  “An eccentric millionaire tired of the lights and noise of the city, that’s who,” Laura replied, holding on to the dashboard for dear life.

  They had been driving along the narrow, winding and extremely bumpy road for more than fifteen minutes. On either side of the road stood tall trees that blocked most of the sunlight, tangled bushes—many with nasty-looking thorns—and a profusion of wildflowers. While the wildflowers were beautiful, and despite the No Trespassing signs posted at regular intervals, she still felt like she was in the middle of an overgrown jungle without a guide to see her safely through to the other side. She wouldn’t be surprised if, any minute now, they encountered a group of lions and tigers and bears. Oh, my.

  A stray branch brushed along the side of the truck, and she saw Michael wince. In all likelihood, it would need a new paint job by the time they returned to Pittsburgh, and probably new shocks, as well. Heaven knew how Joseph was going to get his fleet of moving vans down this road.

  “I understand needing to get away,” he said, “but did he have to escape this far?”

  “If he had simply moved to the suburbs,” she pointed out, “people wouldn’t have labeled him eccentric.”

  Laura knew the true cause of his distress, and it had little to do with the remoteness of their destination or the pounding his truck was taking, although he could be pretty weird about the vehicle. Two hours earlier he had spied a wriggling canvas bag by the side of the road. When they had stopped to investigate, they’d found two puppies inside.

  At the sight, Michael had sworn furiously, then launched into a diatribe directed toward the soulless creatures who had abandoned the puppies along the side of the road, where they would either starve to death or be hit by a car. He had also insisted that he and Laura find the nearest humane society. He didn’t care how far out of their way it took them.

  It was a side of him Laura hadn’t imagined existed, and it fascinated her. It also touched her deeply. She knew she would forever carry a picture around in her head of the way he had laughingly allowed the puppies to climb all over him and lick his face and hands. There was something terribly appealing about a man who got upset over a couple of puppies. An ex-con who loved animals. She supposed it was the gangster equivalent of the hooker with a heart of gold.

  “You couldn’t keep them, Michael.”

  He didn’t pretend not to understand. “I know.”

  “You travel too much, work too many hours.”

  “I know.”

  “The shelter will find them a good home.”

  “I know, Ruby.”

  “But it doesn’t make you feel better.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  They hit a series of dips, and the truck began bucking like one of the crack addicts she’d wrestled to the ground early in her career with the NYPD. Michael’s arm shot out, pinning her securely against the seat. It wasn’t until he had brought the tru
ck to an abrupt halt and she looked down that she realized his hand was cupped securely around her right breast.

  For one breathless moment, she simply marveled at how smooth the skin of Michael’s hand seemed. Yet there was nothing weak or lazy about it. His fingers were long and extremely capable looking; his nails clean and neatly trimmed. She had never realized before how beautifully sculpted a man’s knuckles could be.

  Then reality dawned, and Laura came to her senses. “Uh, Michael.”

  “What?” He was staring at the terrain in front of them and sounded distracted.

  “Your hand.”

  “What about it?”

  “Would you mind removing it from my…from me?”

  An impatient twist of his head brought his gaze to hers. She looked pointedly down. Comprehension filled his eyes, along with an expression akin to horror. Michael snatched his hand from her body as if the contact burned.

  “Sorry about that,” he mumbled, his cheeks taking on a ruddy hue. “When we hit those bumps… All I can say is, it was an automatic response.”

  “I know, Michael.”

  “I just want you to know I didn’t mean to…I had no intention of…I would never just…”

  She gritted her teeth. Would it have been so awful if he had meant to touch her that way? Not that she wanted him to. Not by a long shot.

  “I know, Michael.”

  It wasn’t the warmth of his hand against her breast that unsettled her so. There had been nothing sexual in the gesture, just as there had been nothing sexual in her response to it. It was the protective nature of his reaching out to her that rattled her far more than if he had simply groped her.

  She’d told him that her father had been undemonstrative and cold. But that was the story she had concocted for Ruby, to explain Ruby’s behavior. In truth, Laura’s father—and her mother—had been warm, caring and open when it came to expressing their love. A freak storm during her freshman year of college, when the roof of the store they were in collapsed, had taken them from her. A few years after that, she’d lost her husband and son. She still had her brother, who, like the mythical brother she had invented for Ruby, was a priest. But Alex, who was assigned to a church in New Mexico, was busy with his parishioners and their needs. Laura tried to impose on him as little as possible.

  It troubled her to admit it, but after four years of depending on no one but herself, it had felt gloriously wonderful to have someone be concerned for her welfare. Even if the sign of that caring had come in the form of a hand closed around her breast. And even if that someone was Michael Corsi, a convicted felon who—if she’d understood him correctly, and she was fairly certain she had—was looking for another opportunity to skirt the law.

  She covertly studied the man at her side, taking in his strong profile with its prominent Roman nose and determined chin. The muscles of his arms were well-defined. His shoulders were broad. If he wanted to, Michael Corsi could make one formidable protector.

  Laura felt her mouth tighten grimly. What was that old cartoon saying? If only he had used his power for good, instead of evil. If only Michael had learned the error of his ways during his incarceration, then maybe… Her brain shied away from the thought.

  Without warning he turned in his seat. They stared wordlessly at each other, and a sudden tension filled the cab. The restlessness that had been so much a part of her life of late took hold of Laura and refused to let go. She suddenly found herself wishing that he had tried to cop a feel. The outrage that action would have prompted would have left her immune to any unwelcome and inappropriate thoughts. At least, she believed it would. Unfortunately, nothing much had been making sense in her life recently.

  Her confusion, and her chagrin about that confusion, put a bite into her voice. “Do me a favor. If we hit another series of bumps like that last set, would you please remember that I’m wearing a seat belt? I don’t need anything, or anyone, to hold me in place.”

  With a savage motion, Michael faced forward, put the truck in gear and stepped on the accelerator. “I told you it was an automatic reflex. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  She welcomed the opportunity to rile him further. “Are you saying you weren’t trying to feel me up?”

  He shot her a dark look. “Trust me, Ruby. If I was trying to feel you up, you’d know it.”

  Laura couldn’t suppress the shiver that raced up her spine. Yes, she supposed she would. In every fiber of her being. Damn it. And damn him.

  “Don’t worry, Michael. You don’t have to keep explaining. You told me once on Saturday, and a couple of times already today. I get it. Believe me, I get it. You wouldn’t touch me, even if someone paid you to.” A fact for which she should be down on her knees giving thanks. Instead, the contrary and uncontrollable part of her nature actually had the audacity to feel just the teensiest bit put-out by the realization.

  “Damn it,” he swore when they hit another rut. “You would think at least Joseph’s precious client would have had this road paved.”

  “Maybe he was trying to discourage uninvited visitors from dropping in.”

  “Works for me. How ’bout we turn around and head back to Pittsburgh, before my truck is reduced to a pile of bolts and metal?”

  Laura couldn’t resist. “We are expected, you know. Besides, I thought this truck could handle anything.”

  He sighed heavily. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  When she could forget the confusing emotions he aroused in her, she supposed she was. She had to admit, riling Michael Corsi was turning out to be a lot more fun than she’d expected it to be. And it helped to pass the time.

  “A girl has to take her entertainment where she can find it.”

  “And you usually find it with men.”

  Now this was the irritating Michael she knew and preferred. For a while there, he had managed to distract her by actually seeming to care that Ruby might be throwing away her life on Joseph. Then, of course, there had been the puppies. She had come perilously close, perish the thought, to liking him.

  “We are in a foul mood, aren’t we?” she said, suppressing a smile. “Just be glad it’s not the dead of winter. Even a truck that can handle anything would get stranded out here in the middle of a blizzard.”

  “Forget about winter,” Michael retorted. “I’m just praying it won’t rain while we’re here.”

  Rain would be as bad as snow, she suddenly realized. The possibility of being stranded out here, alone with Michael, was not one Laura wanted to entertain.

  “You sure we’re on the right road?” he asked, as a flock of birds took flight at their passing.

  “You were the one with the door-to-door directions,” she reminded him. “According to this printout, and your odometer, the Bickham estate is another three miles down this road.”

  “If my odometer is still working,” he muttered.

  “We’ll know one way or another soon.”

  “Yes,” he said sourly, “I suppose we will. And then, at some point, we’re going to have to turn around and make our way out of here.”

  Laura took pity on him. “Did Joseph tell you anything about Vincent Bickham?” she asked, trying to distract him from his worries.

  “All I know is what you said on Saturday. That Joseph spent months negotiating to win the estate.”

  “He did. It was touch-and-go for a long time. The heirs wanted to ensure that Vincent and Serena’s belongings—Serena was Vincent’s wife—were treated with the proper respect. It’s my understanding that Joseph did a lot of fast talking and made a lot of promises.”

  “Does he intend on keeping those promises?” Michael asked.

  Laura gave what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug. “With Joseph one never knows for sure.”

  “Meaning he might not.”

  Michael had just touched on one aspect of working undercover that Laura was growing to hate. Vincent Bickham’s heirs had negotiated with Joseph in good faith. By all rights he should honor, to
the letter, every promise he made. She had no idea whether he intended to uphold his end of the bargain. Even if she were aware that Joseph planned to renege on some of his promises, there was nothing she could do about it. She certainly couldn’t blow her cover by informing Vincent Bickham’s heirs.

  What she could do, however, was everything in her power to ensure that the valuation and cataloguing of the estate was done properly. The rest would simply have to be left to chance.

  That she worried about it at all served to underscore her need for a long vacation. There had been a time, not so long ago, when she wouldn’t have questioned anything. A time when she had believed unreservedly that the ends, the bad guy being put behind bars, had entirely justified the means, her actions as an undercover cop. And she’d never worried about any innocent individuals who might get caught in the middle. At that time nothing, and no one, could have pulled her out of character.

  The truth hit her squarely between the eyes, and she quickly looked down at her lap before Michael could see her face change and ask her what was wrong. What was wrong was that, after three long years of associating primarily with felons, she was tired of being around bad people. She was tired of spending every waking hour with men and women whose morals were lower than those of an alley cat. Instead she craved peace and quiet and the company of people who actually cared about someone other than themselves.

  And she was stuck for at least three more days, out here in the middle of nowhere, with Michael Corsi.

  “Joseph is a businessman, first and foremost,” she explained. “His interests always supercede anything else.”

  “Even promises?”

  “Even promises.”

  “Joseph isn’t the most moral fellow, is he?”

  Odd, she thought, how his words mirrored her thoughts so precisely. “Something, I believe, you understand completely.”

  He met her gaze without flinching. “As do you.”

  Laura couldn’t argue with him there. Ruby’s lack of morality was her defining characteristic.

  “By heirs,” Michael said, “I assume you mean Vincent Bickham’s children?”