Cara Summers - Flirting With Temptation

“To Corie’s San Francisco adventure,” Franco said, raising his glass.

Jack didn’t lift his. “We have to talk.”

Corie and Franco both turned to him.

“Am I the only one who’s at all worried about the shooting incident at the airport?”

Franco’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t like the timing.” Pausing, Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been thinking it over, and it’s possible that the shooter was aiming at Corie.”

Franco whipped out his notebook. “A blind hit man. What a plot point!”

Corie set down her coffee. “He fired the bullet into the air. I saw him and so did several other witnesses. The police concluded he was just some crazy person.”

Jack gave Franco an annoyed look before returning his gaze to Corie’s. “I have a feeling—the same one I get whenever something I’m working on is about to go bad. And I just want to cover all the possibilities so that we can take precautions. It’s possible that someone in the Lewis family might not be too thrilled that you’re here.”

Corie’s expression became thoughtful as she considered it for a moment. “True. But how did the Lewis family know I was arriving today?”

“The person who e-mailed me your whereabouts could also be feeding the Lewises the same information,” Jack said.

“Okay. But if they’re so worried, why did they send a blind hit man to shoot at me?”

“Good point,” Franco said and made a note.

“Okay,” Jack raised both hands, palms out. “You’ve got logic on your side there. But what if the white cane and the dark glasses were a disguise? Maybe he could see perfectly well, and he just dressed that way to get close to you or to make sure that he couldn’t be identified.”

“He’s got a point,” Franco remarked as he scribbled on the page.

“Let me get this straight. He could see perfectly?” Corie asked with a smile. “So perfectly that he aimed his bullet into the air and completely missed me.”

“Now, she’s got a point. I feel like I’m at a tennis match.” Franco’s pen never stopped moving on the page.

A tennis match where he wasn’t scoring many points off his opponent, Jack thought. She had a sharp mind, and at any other time he would have enjoyed matching wits with her. “Look. It’s just possible that I might have seen the shooter this morning when I was running at Pier 39. I saw a blind man there, too, and he was walking his dog. I can’t be sure it was the same man, but later I thought I saw him again in a car that backfired in front of our apartment building. He could have followed me there and then out to the airport.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And there’s something else I haven’t told you about Benny Lewis.”

Corie nodded. “You’re referring to the fact that Benny Lewis used to have mob connections.”

Jack stared at her. “You know about that?”

Franco flicked a glance at Jack. “She’s not the naive little librarian we thought she was.”

Corie’s brows shot up as she shifted her gaze from one man to the other. “It would be a rare librarian indeed who could still be naive with the information highway at her fingertips. I researched everything about the man who might be my father. One of the most informative articles I found was written by one Jack Kincaid for the San Francisco Chronicle. It traced Benny Lewis’s family back to one of the first organized crime families in this country.” She met Jack’s eyes steadily. “And it revealed that you are not welcome on the Lewis estate. I figure that’s one of the reasons you invited me out here. I’m your leverage to get an interview, or whatever it is you’re after.”

“Busted,” Franco murmured.

Jack felt the heat rising in his neck. “I was going to tell you. I just didn’t want to do it over the phone.”

“In your article, you also said that the Lewis Winery and the Crystal Water Spa are legitimate businesses, and that Benny Lewis cut all ties to his organized crime confederates over thirty years ago when he moved out here. Do you have any reason to believe otherwise?”

“Just a feeling.”

“It’s a feeling that Jack’s been nursing for twelve years or so—ever since I’ve known him,” Franco put in. “He’s got nothing to substantiate it.”

Corie frowned thoughtfully. “But if you could connect the gunman at the airport to Benny, then you’d have something more than a feeling, right?”

“The plot thickens,” Franco said.

Jack glared at him. “This isn’t a screenplay.”

Corie took a sip of her Irish coffee, then looked at him. “We should get going right away.”

“You want to go back to Fairview.” Jack didn’t blame her.

“Of course not,” Corie said taking another sip of her coffee.

Jack stared at her. He couldn’t quite keep up with her. She wasn’t angry that he hadn’t mentioned the Lewis family’s early organized crime connections, nor did she seem to be frightened. “Let me get this straight. You’ve known all along that Benny Lewis had mob connections in his past, and now you know that I think he still might. Aren’t you worried at all?”

“Not really. But I didn’t come out here with blinders on. If Benny Lewis is my father, then twenty-six years ago something happened to make my mother run away and live the life of a recluse. I took two weeks to decide whether or not I wanted to come out here and open up that can of worms. And I do. So let’s get started. If there is a connection between that blind gunman at the airport and the Lewis family, then it might have something to do with why my mother hid away all these years. What’s your plan?”

“Plan?”

“Plot point number two. Hero and heroine join forces to solve the crime,” Franco said as he scribbled. “Shades of The Thin Man.”

Corie turned to Franco. “I just love those movies. Nick and Nora Charles were the perfect partners.” She turned back to Jack. “When can we get started?”

Jack frowned. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t work with a partner. I work alone.”

“But you invited me out here, and you need me to gain access to Benny.”

In the short beat of silence that followed, Franco cleared his throat. “She’s got you there.”

Then Corie and Franco merely waited, watching him expectantly. The shy little librarian had a mind like a steel trap and a dogged determination that surprised him and drew his admiration at the same time. Until he figured out how to handle her, his best strategy was to distract her.

“My plan is simple. I’m going to take you to a party Friday night—a reception following the dedication of the new children’s wing at San Francisco Memorial Hospital. It’s being held at the Monahan House, one of San Francisco’s newest and most exclusive hotels. A close friend of mine, Jake Monahan, owns the hotel, and so he’s going to see that we get into the reception.”

“Why can’t I meet Benny sooner?” Corie asked.

“He’s out of the country visiting a new winery that he purchased in southern Italy. He’ll be flying back on Thursday evening specifically for the party on Friday. He and the whole family will be there. It’s a public affair. I figure it’s your best scenario for meeting him.”

“And you’re just going to walk up to Benny and introduce me as his long-lost illegitimate daughter?”

“No. I’ll introduce you as Corie Benjamin.” He drew a photo out of his pocket and placed it in front of her. “Since you look almost exactly like your mother, I’m assuming that he’ll agree to speak with you in a more private arena.”

Corie stared down at the old picture. The first thing that struck her was that the woman sitting in the restaurant booth next to the darkly handsome man could have been her twin sister. Over the years, she had grown used to comments that she and her mother looked alike, but now she was facing concrete evidence of it.