What Doesn't Kill Her (Cape Charade #2)(100)

Max glanced at his mother. She was not reacting well at all; her face was mottled with rage and...humiliation?

Arthur was a handsome man who looked every inch the nobleman. He spoke well, he managed people deftly...he had romanced Verona, and she now realized why he had directed his attentions at her. To get his way in all things concerning the winery—and it had worked.

“Which one of your people took Rae?” Verona asked. “Which one kidnaps children?”

“None of them.”

“Is one of them a pedophile? Is one of them an assassin?” Verona was shaking with anxiety and anger.

Arthur tried to take her hand.

She slapped him away.

“No. I won’t work with pedophiles or killers. I have counterfeiters, horse-race fixers, thieves like me. But I don’t blindly trust everyone I’ve hired. I’m telling you, I watch them all. We meet nightly, we talk, I make clear how fast their lives will take a turn for the worse if they try anything illegal here. I’m not going to ruin my one chance to live a life doing what I love because someone wants to put a counterfeit Di Luca Wines label on an inferior bottle of wine.” Arthur smiled with chilling menace.

“It doesn’t matter what you think you know.” Verona’s voice rose. “Rae is gone.”

“I hired one man with whom I haven’t served time.” Arthur pulled out his phone and punched in a number.

“The pianist,” Verona said immediately. “Dan Matyasovitch.”

“He was my latest hire.” Arthur listened and hung up. “His phone is going to voice mail. I worried about him at first. He was friendly with Rita Grapplee. Then he pointed out her thefts and I got rid of her. That reassured me about him, but, sir—Rita Grapplee had no morals. She would do anything for money, and if she was working for Matyasovitch...” He punched another button. “Conference call with my people. They’ll know where Matyasovitch is supposed to be, and they’ll know where he was last seen. Mr. Di Luca, Mrs. Di Luca, we will find him, and Rae.”

Verona’s voice wavered. “But will we find them in time?”



55


Kellen and Birdie followed the star path down the back stairs and outside into blinding sunshine, startling heat and the heady smell of grapes from the crushing shed. Not surprisingly, Rae’s stars headed away from the tents and the masses of people congregating for the wedding and toward the edge of the lawn, where the vines began their orderly march. There wasn’t much out there, just the old red barn and the wine blending shed.

A gang of Di Luca teenagers were running across the lawn, laughing. Annabella and her cousins stopped and stared at Kellen and Birdie.

Kellen and Birdie waved vigorously. “Thirty minutes!” Kellen yelled and pointed at her arm, at the watch she wasn’t wearing.

The kids waved back, smiled and went on their way, chattering about their early glimpse of the bride.

“Thirty minutes until the ceremony?” Birdie moaned. “We haven’t got much time to wrap this up and get you married.”

“The wedding is the least of our worries.”

“Don’t tell the three hundred waiting people.”

“It might have been better if I wasn’t the only woman dressed in bridal white.” Kellen’s stiletto heels sank into the grass, and she stopped, yanked them off and hooked them into her belt.

“You do stand out.” Birdie lifted Kellen’s train. “We’ve got to be careful of grass stains.”

“Focus!” But Kellen understood Birdie. She was trying to keep things real, make sure Kellen was calm and prepped for battle. She pulled out her phone and kept walking. “I’ll call Temo. You call Adrian. We need them.”

One ring, and Temo picked up. Kellen heard a speed and volume of Spanish she had never imagined from the even-tempered Temo.

Birdie heard him, too, because she disconnected and stared.

“Stop, Temo. Stop!” Kellen spoke a little Spanish, but not like this. “What happened? Where are you?”

In painstaking English, Temo said, “This puke of a security man has detained Adrian and me. He has taken our weapons, and he is all puffed up with indignation and disbelief that you would bring in a couple of ringers, as he calls us. Like we are bells!”

“That dumb son of a bitch. Put him on.” Kellen barely waited for Parliman to say hello. “You don’t realize who you’re messing with. Release my friends at once.”

Her tone must have penetrated Mr. Parliman’s thick skull, for he said loftily, “This is most irregular. I will speak with Mr. Waldberg and Mr. Di Luca about you. I was told these two criminals were carrying firearms by that man who—”

Kellen heard a thump. Abruptly, Mr. Parliman stopped speaking.

Somewhere near, a man shouted.

Another thump.

Temo picked up his phone and spoke to Kellen in a cold clear voice. “Two dumbass security men down. We’ll retrieve our weapons and be there ASAP.”

“Come to the edge of the property,” Kellen instructed and hung up. She turned off the sound and put the phone on vibrate.

As they passed under one of the massive cherry trees, they heard a worried old voice call, “Kellen, il mio cara, you’re not running away from Max again, are you?”

It was Bisnonna Debora, leaning against the trunk, and Kellen whirled to face her. “No. I won’t do that.”