Jo Leigh - Sexy Ms. Takes

Bella folded her arms across her chest and continued staring at him. A little pink came to her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Finally, she nodded. Once.

Good. One problem solved. Bigger issues remained. Like how he was going to get them out of this.

“None of this makes sense,” she said. “Why would the Mafia want to make a deal with a detective? Why didn’t they just kill you when you went to get in your car? Or when we were in the garage?” She looked at the door. “Was that…?”

John followed her gaze, listened, but he didn’t hear anything.

When he turned back she was staring at him again, waiting for his answer. “Just because they’re Italian, it doesn’t mean they’re Mafia.”

“You’re right. The kidnapping and the guns mean they’re the Mafia.”

“Good point, but not accurate. Sal’s a wannabe. He watched The Sopranos when he should have been going to school.”

“Which reminds me. Who’s Nonna and how do you know she lives here?”

He shrugged. “She’s part of the neighborhood. Everybody knows everybody.”

“What about Vince?”

John hesitated. He owed her the truth. “He isn’t part of the neighborhood, and I don’t know what he’s doing here. My gut tells me he doesn’t want us dead, but I’m not certain.”

“Okay. Thanks for being honest.” With a calm he wasn’t buying, Bella headed toward the couch. “Even if they’re not officially in the Mafia, they still have to deal with me. If they buy you off, I’m a witness. I was kidnapped at gunpoint. I leave here, go right to the cops and report it.” She sat on the ugly couch, almost lost on the cushions.

He hadn’t realized how tiny she was, probably because she was tall. But she was slender, small-boned. “I told you, they’re not going to hurt you.”

She sighed, looking miserable. “And you were doing so great in the honesty department.”

“I’m not trying to placate you. As long as we’re here, we’ll be okay. If they’d taken us to some deserted warehouse, I’d be sweating it.” A half-truth was better than scaring her out of her mind. He was still sweating it, all right, only because he didn’t remember who the hell Vince was. This had something to do with Sal, and as much as John wanted to kick the kid’s ass right now, deep down he knew Sal wouldn’t hurt Nonna. And he wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull anything in her basement. As far as Vince was concerned, he didn’t strike John as part of one of the local crews. Smarter than Sal, but then, who wasn’t?

He glanced over at Bella again, who was nervously licking her lips. “They leave any water for us?” he asked, glancing around the room.

“I didn’t see any,” she said quickly, stiffening.

He frowned at her odd reaction. Of course she was tense, but there was something else. Maybe not. Maybe he was just jumpy, considering she was his responsibility and anything that happened to her would be on his head.

Even with her strained smile, she was really pretty. “Maybe you could ask them for some?”

“Sure.” Fair enough request, but no, something was off with her. He left the couch and at the door, yelled for Sal. He didn’t get a response, but the steel was so thick he wasn’t surprised. His fist alone wasn’t going to be enough. He needed something to hit it with, something that would carry.

“Here,” Bella said.

He turned to see she’d apparently come to the same conclusion and had taken off one of her high heels. It wasn’t quite a stiletto, which was a pity. That could’ve done some damage to Sal’s thick skull. Yet it wasn’t her shoe that had snagged his attention. She crossed her leg to remove her other shoe, and the view was real nice. So was watching her walk to him in her bare feet.

“Thanks.” He took the offered heel. “I break it and I owe you a pair.”

“Damn right.” Their eyes met, then he saw her throat convulse. “As soon as the stores open tomorrow.”

“On New Year’s Day?”

Fear lurked in her eyes, but she lifted her chin. “The day after, then.”

“Day after tomorrow. Check.” He smiled and touched her cheek.

She didn’t flinch, only blinked and nodded. Poor kid. She was handling this better than he had any right to expect.

He turned back to the door. “Sal,” he yelled again, and then used the heel to give the door a couple of hard whacks.

Within a minute, he heard someone thundering down the stairs. “Jesus, Johnny.” It was Sal. “Can’t you just shut the fuck up?”

“We need water, Sal.”

“Use the damn tap.”

“Come on. Don’t make the lady drink that crap.” John heard more movement on the other side, then Vince’s deep murmuring.

“Hey, Vince, that you?” John glanced at Bella and winked. She was a bundle of nerves and probably wouldn’t eat, but he wanted her to have the option. He also needed her to calm down. “How about some food, maybe a bottle of vino, huh?”

Sal cursed loudly.

“Yeah, okay. We can do that,” Vince said after a pause. “Hold on.”

“Are you serious?” Bella said as soon as they heard the men leave and returned to the couch. “You can eat at a time like this?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. More importantly, if they’d planned to kill us soon, they sure wouldn’t worry about feeding us.”

Her perfectly arched brows rose. “Ah.” For the first time, a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Good to know.”

“Not that I think they plan on killing us at all,” he said quickly. “You have to believe that. Oh, here.” He handed her back her shoe.

She sighed. “I was looking forward to getting a new pair.”

“Consider it done.”

“Be careful of making promises you can’t keep, Detective,” she said grimly, and bent to slip on both shoes.

His gaze followed the perfect curve of her calves and he wondered if she did some dancing as well as acting. He almost asked, but then thought better of reminding her that he’d totally screwed up her important audition.

Another few minutes and someone was back at the door. It was Vince, not Sal. Good. Except he was more careful than Sal might have been, making John and Bella wait in the bathroom while he hastily set down a box and a couple of bottles of Chianti just inside the room before again bolting the door.

John ran to the door. “Vince, wait.” Dammit, there was something familiar about the guy. Where the hell had he seen him before?

“Patience, il mio amico , no one has to get hurt. Capice?”

John glanced at Bella, her hands tightly clasped. “Just tell me where Nonna is.”

“Playin’ bingo.” The man paused. “She made cookies. They’re in the box. Now shut up, Johnny. Last warning,” he said, his voice trailing as he’d begun to climb the stairs.

It wasn’t the accent that was familiar. It was. Shit, he couldn’t remember.

“Admirable that you’re worried about Nonna,” Bella said, coming closer. “But jeez, we’re not exactly sitting pretty here.”

“Yeah, I’m worried about her, but if she knows we’re down here that tells me something, too.”

“She won’t let them kill us?” Bella said hopefully.

John smiled. “Something along those lines.” He peeked in the box. There were amaretti cookies, a loaf of bread, some cheese, two glasses, a knife. Plastic. Interesting that Vince had brought two bottles of wine, though. Probably figured if they got him drunk, he wouldn’t be so apt to kill them both. “Her cookies, that’s another matter. I wouldn’t touch them. Those suckers could take you down in minutes.”

Bella’s lips parted in surprise, and then she smiled. That made a knot deep in his chest unwind. “Are you sure you don’t just want them all to yourself?”