I stumbled to the kitchen. I began to run through the possibilities, seeming almost frantic to find the answers, only to realize I couldn’t know anything for sure. There was no way I would be able to find out anything definite without telling Michael who I really was, and if I told him now it was quite possible I would jeopardize our relationship.
And that was something I couldn’t risk.
My father certainly wouldn’t volunteer anything, and if I revealed I knew Michael—depending on how my father came to know him—it could create many more problems than simply dating a non-Italian beyond the authority of the Catholic church.
I somehow needed to find a way to remain Terra Wilson and act like I knew nothing—at least until the entire truth revealed itself.
But I feared the guilt from not telling Michael who I really was would kill me.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Michael
I didn’t want to appear stupid, but I was sure beginning to feel that way. “I guess I’m not really following what it is you’re trying to say.”
Agrioli adjusted himself in his seat, turned toward Jimmy Cupcake and shrugged. Cupcake brushed the sleeves of his jacket with his hands as if he was cleaning them of an invisible filth. He locked eyes with me and leaned forward in his seat.
“Like a fuckin’ security detail. Your men accompany our drivers, make sure everything goes smooth.”
I picked up my pencil and flipped it between my fingers as I focused on Jimmy. He sat expressionless, waiting for my response. I weighed the pros and the cons of such an arrangement, and came up with many more cons than pros.
“And if something happens? If the cargo is threatened?”
Cupcake shrugged.
I shifted my eyes to Agrioli. He shrugged and unsuccessfully attempted to hide his smile.
“It’s not really what I do. Not my forte,” I said.
I watched as the pencil flipped from finger to finger. It was relaxing for me, and something I had perfected, starting when I was a bored kid of twelve years old. I had spent countless hours flipping a pencil between my fingers, often driving whoever was trying to talk to me insane before finally stopping.
Cupcake’s eyes darted back and forth between the pencil and Agrioli. Agrioli inhaled a deep breath through his nose, held it, and exhaled slowly. “You’re a businessman, no?”
I considered myself so. I glanced around my office and nodded proudly. “I like to think so.”
Agrioli gave the office a quick visual survey. “Successful?”
“Again,” I said. “I like to think so.”
“Your success. Do you measure in customer satisfaction, or in earned profit?”
Cupcake chuckled.
I didn’t find it humorous. I glanced at Cupcake. He stopped laughing. I met Agrioli’s gaze. “Profit.”
Agrioli nodded. “A percentage of revenue from each safe delivery.”
His habit of beating around the proverbial bush was driving me insane. I shot him a half-assed glare. “You’re offering me a percentage of your revenue? Is that what you’re saying?”
He shrugged and glanced at Cupcake. Cupcake shrugged.
I had very little, if any, interest in being involved in the mafia’s many business transactions. Being considered a man of honor was one thing, but actually being involved was another altogether. Illicit activities brought the watchful eye of the law, and along with it, the potential threat of imprisonment.
And I doubted there was much the mafia was involved in that I would be able to embrace as being morally acceptable.
Agrioli sighed. “Last month. We lost three trucks.”
Cupcake turned his palms up in agreement to the loss.
“Hijacked?” I asked.
They glanced at each other.
It seemed like a simple question. Obviously, there was more to their operation than they wanted to reveal.
“Your drivers were hijacked? While in transit?”
Cupcake looked at Agrioli. Agrioli studied me. I felt lost. Terra was on her way to meet me for lunch, and I really didn’t want two of the mob’s upper echelon in my office when she arrived. I glanced at my watch.
I had fifteen minutes.
The pencil continued to flip through my fingers while I alternated glances between the two men. I was done with the mafia secrecy and the guessing games. “Look, I’m afraid there isn’t going to be much I can do to help. I appreciate your offer, though.”
Agrioli adjusted himself in the chair. “Cigarettes. Each truck delivered, fifty thousand dollars.”
He had my attention. “My way? Fifty grand?”
Agrioli nodded.
“How many deliveries a month?”
Cupcake responded. “Four? Six?”
I stopped the pencil in my palm. That was two-and-a-half million bucks a year in cigarette delivery security detail. I doubted Agrioli had a license with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, so I was left to wonder about the legitimacy of the deliveries.
I glanced at my watch.
Ten minutes.
“You pay in cargo, or in cash? I don’t need a warehouse full of Marlboros.”
Agrioli laughed out loud. Cupcake joined in. “Cash,” Agrioli said when he finally caught his breath.
I stood. “Let me consider it, and talk to my men. I’ll have a response to you by the end of the week.”
I planned on shaking the men’s hands, but realized when they stood that we were going to do the hugging thing again. I walked around the edge of my desk, hugged each of them and walked them to the door.
I watched as their Cadillac backed out of the parking spot, but my mind was elsewhere. It seemed like a lot of money to assure safe delivery of a truckload of cigarettes. I decided there had to be more to it than what they were telling me, but felt not knowing might have been best.
I stood in the warm sun for several seconds and considered their offer. A few hundred thousand dollars extra a month would allow me to retire in Belize a lot sooner than I originally expected.
My eyes came into focus at the sight of Terra’s Mercedes approaching the entrance to my parking lot as the Cadillac pulled out. Instead of pulling in, she simply drove past. The Cadillac went left, toward the highway, and Terra drove off to the right. After she drove a half mile down the street, I lost sight of her car.
I reached for my pocket, realized I had left my phone on my desk, and decided to wait and see if she returned. Five minutes later, just as I was giving up, she pulled into the lot.
She opened her car door, pressed her hands against her hips, and stared. “So, what are you doing?”
“Wondering.”
“About what? It’s hot out here and you’re dressed in a freaking suit.”
“Wondering what the fuck happened. You just drove by like you forgot where I was.”
“I was daydreaming. The next thing I knew I was way up by that Three Corners bar. I’m a ditz sometimes, I swear.”
“Some guys came to talk, and I was bidding them farewell, and whoosh! You blew past.”
“What uhhm. Some guys came to talk, huh?”
“Yeah, they made me a business offer.”
Her eyes fell to the parking lot. She kicked at a loose pebble and then dug the toe of her shoe into the asphalt, trying to free another. “A uhhm. Was it a good one?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
I wondered just how comfortable she was with my gun dealings. She sure seemed to be skittish about it sometimes.
She looked up. “A gun deal?”
“No,” I said. “To provide a security detail.”
She furrowed her brow. “Like armed guards?”
“Something like that.”
“Is that legal???
?
I shrugged. “Depends.”
I returned her gaze and waited for her to ask many more questions, wondering how long I could distract her from reaching the actual answer to what she wanted to know.
She sighed heavily. “Ready for lunch?”
That was easy.
“Let me lock up.”
I locked the door and turned around. Wearing a dress with her hair twisted into a bun, she looked elegant. Sophisticated.
Beautiful.
I walked toward her. “I think I’m about ready for a little time off.”
“What do you mean?”
I kissed her lightly, leaned away and waved my hand toward the building. “I need some time away from this.”
“What are you going to do?”
“We. What are we going to do? And the answer’s relax.”
“Sounds fun.”
She was right. It would be fun.
And so much more.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Terra
I walked the row of kennels twice with no preconceived notion of what I was looking for. Several of the dogs were active, some barked incessantly and others were fast asleep. There was one puppy lying down who was awake, quiet and not very active.
But he was adorable.
As I walked past his kennel the first time, he lifted his head slightly and watched me. As soon as I passed, his head flopped down to the floor between his front feet.
His body was completely brown, and his front feet were white. Just above his shoulders, the brown stopped and his entire neck and head were white—except for one brown eye.
The skin all over his body was loose and wrinkly.
And his eyes were sad.
On my third trip along the row of kennels, he lifted his head again and stared. I stopped and stared in return. He opened his mouth wide, yawned and flopped his head down on the floor.
A girl wearing a T-shirt that said I Love Cats approached me. She smiled and tilted her head toward the kennels. “Hi. I’m Nichole. Having any luck?”
I pointed toward the wrinkly pup. “What about that little guy?”
She smiled. “Hank? The English Bulldog?”
“The little wrinkly guy. Is that what he is?”
She nodded.
“His name’s Hank?”
“Yep. Hank. He’s a rescue pup.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, it was a strange situation. The owner got arrested or something, I don’t know for sure. You know. Rumors and stuff. But. The entire litter was abandoned, left in the home unattended. The mother was left outdoors, and the pups inside. The mother, or at least we think it was the mother, was hit by a car and killed. The entire litter died except him. He hadn’t eaten in over a week. Our vet said it was a miracle he lived, but he did. We named him Hank. It’s short for Hank the Tank. You know, because he’s indestructible.”
My throat tightened. He was the perfect pup. I glanced at him again. He lifted his head, this time for only a few seconds. When it fell to the floor of the kennel, I chuckled and turned toward the girl.
“He’s uhhm. So he’s an orphan?”
“I guess that’s one way of putting it.”
As I didn’t see making Michael part of my family was in my immediate future, I felt we needed to make a family of our own. At least until I could figure out a way to reveal the truth. Seeing my father leave Michael’s shop provided all the reassurance I needed to believe that Michael was the one who saved Peter. As proud as I was of him for doing so, knowing my father knew Michael and had made offers to him regarding business made revealing the truth about who I was that much more difficult.
Until I figured out what to do, I guessed he and I could share our home together in secrecy. In my way of thinking, I’d already given myself to Michael, and giving him the puppy would be as close to providing him a family as I would be able.
And I wanted him to have a family.
“He can’t seem to hold his head up. Is he okay?” I asked.
She grinned and nodded. “He’s fine. They’re a lethargic breed. He’s lazy. You want to go see him?”
I nodded eagerly.
We walked inside, past all of the other dogs, and to Hank’s kennel. After she unlocked the door, he stood, shook himself off, waddled up to me and flopped down between my feet. I looked at Nichole.
“He likes you.”
I glanced down at Hank. Without lifting his head, he shifted his eyes up and stared.
“Hank,” I said sharply, hoping he’d at least lift his head.
His mouth snapped open. “Woof!”
“I’ll take him,” I said.
“You can spend some time with him, and see if he’s really what you want...”
I felt like such a girl, but the thought of getting the puppy and having even a likeness of a family with Michael almost brought tears to my eyes.
“No,” I said. “I’m sure.”
I bought the puppy, a portable kennel, a box full of toys, grooming supplies, food and a bed. After the journey home, I arranged everything, and Hank curled up in his bed.
While I waited for Michael to come home from work, I wondered what my father had proposed to him. If he accepted it, what effect it would have on our relationship once I figured out a way to reveal the truth?
Not opening up to Michael was making me sick, and one way or another, I knew I couldn’t hold out much longer. I felt like the lies were building up, and soon they’d explode, making my life a complete mess.
I relaxed on the couch with Hank lying in his bed on the floor beside me. In a short period of time, we were both fast asleep.
And I dreamt of Michael and me having a normal life.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Michael
I struggled with my decision regarding Agrioli’s deliveries, and after a long discussion with Cap and Lucky, decided to give it a try. Agrioli was grateful for even a trial run, and felt confident afterward that I would agree to provide the service full-time.
Tired, sick of the tension and in need of a relaxing evening, I parked my car in the garage, lowered the garage door, and walked inside the house.
The sweet smell of my home reminded me I needed to buy more candles. Many more. I inhaled a deep breath, peered through the kitchen and into the living room, and was surprised Terra hadn’t greeted me yet.
“Terra?”
Silence.
I cleared my throat. “Terra!”
Woof!
What the fuck?
I walked around the corner of the island, and was greeted by the cutest English Bulldog pup I had ever seen. His skin fit loosely over his barrel-shaped chest, and hung down from his jowls.
As a kid, I’d always wanted a dog, but my living arrangements as an orphan prevented it. In the military it was impossible, and although I told myself I would get one when I was discharged, I hadn’t done so yet.
Filled with wonder over what was going on, I lowered myself to the kitchen floor and patted him on his overly large head.
A camouflage collar with matching camouflage tag hung from his neck. I reached for the tag and lifted it into my view.
“Hank” Tripp
648 Timbercreek
Shawnee Mission, KS 66203
My heart filled with warmth. The thought of having a pet of my own had been a lifelong dream. The pup collapsed at my feet.
“Terra!” I shouted.
She sat up, peered toward me over the back of the couch and rubbed her eyes. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
“I’ve got one for you, too.”
“Yaaay!” She jumped to her feet. “Mine first.”
Hidden behind the k
itchen island, I stood with Hank at my feet.
“I hope you like it,” she said. “I just...” She glanced around the living room nervously. “Well...”
“What are you looking for?”
“I have a surprise. It’s, well, it’s...crap. Can you come help me?”
I picked up the pup and walked toward the living room. Crawling on her hands and knees, and looking underneath the couch and love seat, she appeared frantic.
“Looking for this little guy?” I asked.
“Shit!” She stood up. “I wanted to surprise you. So, uhhm.” She twisted her hips back and forth nervously. “I hope it’s okay, but I wanted us to have a family.”
“It’s more than okay. I’ve always wanted a dog. He’s cute.”
She pursed her lips and nodded her head eagerly. It seemed she was about to cry.
I cradled the lazy pup in my arms. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. I just wanted to tell you. But.”
“Tell me what?”
She wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m such a girl.”
“What?”
“He uhhm. His mom and all his family died. He’s a little orphan. We’re his only family.”
It probably shouldn’t have made a difference, but it did. My throat went dry, my heart filled with love, and I knew—absolutely knew—that the little pup and me would be the best of friends. My mind went to thoughts of taking him to work with me, taking him to the park, and teaching him how to do all of the things a puppy should learn to do.
My chance to raise a son in a manner I wish someone would have raised me.
“I love you,” I said. “Thank you.”
I leaned toward her and kissed her with Hank sandwiched between us.
She looked over my shoulder and toward the kitchen. “What’s my surprise?”
“It’s not in there,” I said.
“Where is it?”
“A long way from here,” I said.
She pushed her hands into her back pockets and twisted her hips back and forth. “Oh really?”
“Do you have a passport?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, I do.”