“I just wanted to explain.”
Vince muttered something in Italian, his brows drawn together, dipping into a V, and John finally figured out where he’d seen him before. “You couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” Vince tilted his head a bit, staring at Sal. “He break your nose?”
Sal’s hand went to his face, and he hissed as he touched it. “Goddammit.”
John needed to regroup, to process what he now knew. He went to the couch, grabbing Bella’s hand on the way. She gave him a look that could have singed his eyebrows, but she sat with arms crossed, legs crossed and spitting mad. John thought she looked great. Better than great. That fork thing, she’d meant business. She was brave, he’d give her that.
Sal went to the bathroom to clean up, while Vince shook his head. “I don’t get you, Johnny. Sal’s your cousin. He’s family.”
“He’s your cousin?” Bella turned on John and he knew all the goodwill the Chianti had bought him was now history.
“I probably should have mentioned that.”
“Oh, my God,” she said. “You’re insane.” Then she faced Vince. “I suppose you’re related, too?”
Vince pressed his thick lips together.
“Yeah, he’s related,” John said, which earned him a wary look from Vince. It had been four years.
Bella put her face in her hands. “I don’t believe this.”
Sal came out of the bathroom holding one of the big white towels up to his face. “You broke it, you ciuccio. I’ll kill you for this.”
“Shut up, Sal,” Vince said. “Just tell him the plan.”
Sal gave Vince a stare, but eventually, he brought the towel down. “We catch a flight tomorrow,” Sal said. “To Uncle Tuccio’s.”
“You can’t leave the country. Your passport’s been flagged. You’re under a felony warrant.”
“It’s all been worked out,” Sal said. “Nonna put her foot down. She don’t want me goin’ to jail, but she says I gotta work for Tuccio, learn the business.”
Vince didn’t look too thrilled about it. “He can’t come back until he’s got his own sales territory and gets married.”
John let out a breath, staring at the two of them. Knowing the family, he was sure that whatever passport and papers they’d rigged for Sal would get him on the plane. Working for Tuccio was actually pretty smart. The old bastard sold wine across Europe, and if Sal took so much as a sip of the goods, Tuccio would have his ass. The kicker, though, had to be Nonna’s doing. Sal had to get married? That could take a while. No woman in her right mind would marry that giamope.
But none of that mattered. If he let Sal go, the whole department would know. They’d think he had something to do with it because Sal was family. “I can’t let that happen, Sal. You know I can’t.”
“That’s why you’re gonna stay here until he’s out of the country,” Vince said. “You got no choice.”
“When, exactly, are you leaving?” Bella asked.
“Tomorrow afternoon.”
She struggled to her feet, the couch doing its best to keep her still. “Surely you don’t have to keep me until then. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I don’t care if you go to Italy. I don’t care about any of you.”
“Sorry, sweetheart.” Vince did look sorry, but the gun didn’t waver. “You just keep Johnny from hurtin’ anyone, okay?”
Sal gave Johnny as much of a sneer as his nose would allow. “He didn’t hurt me. He thinks he’s so friggin’ smart with all his degrees and crap.”
“Shut up, everybody.” John stood. “Even if this works, and I can’t stop you, I’m gonna charge you, Vince. Out of respect, I’m gonna leave Nonna out of this, but not you. You’ll never be able to step foot in this country again. Is that what you want?”
Vince winced, but the gun still didn’t move.
“Not for a wedding or a funeral, you’re never coming back here. You understand?”
John tensed as he watched Vince’s gun hand move. First he’d need to get Bella out of the way, but he was sure he could take that gun and end this farce.
He took a half step, prepared to move fast. Then Bella’s hand was on his arm and she jerked him back, hard.
“What the—”
“Get out,” she said, to Vince and Sal with her eyes locked on John’s. “Both of you. Now.”
The two men froze. Long enough for John to make his move. So why didn’t he? Bella’s hold could never have stopped him. But the way she looked at him, her eyes begging even as her back straightened with pride. That, he couldn’t ignore. He stayed. He let Sal and Vince go. For her.
5
THE DOOR SLAMMED and Bella stared at the hand on John’s arm as if it belonged to someone else.
“Bella?”
She looked into his eyes again. “I don’t. I.” She let him go as her cheeks heated.
“I could have gotten the gun,” he said softly, as if he didn’t want to upset her. “I made sure you weren’t in the line of fire. There won’t be another chance. We’re stuck in here until tomorrow. Those two will get clean away.”
“Maybe they should,” she said.
“What?”
“He didn’t shoot you on purpose. You told me that. Or was that all bull?”
“Doesn’t matter. He shot a cop, Bella. In New York.”
“But you said it was an accident. Besides, it seems to me he’ll be more rehabilitated in Italy than he would be at Leavenworth.”
John shook his head. “And what about me, huh? How am I supposed to tell my captain that the man who shot me, my damn cousin, got away? You think he’s not going to assume I was in on it? That I gave him a pass? I’m already the laughingstock of the department.”
“Why?”
His gaze shifted before returning to meet her own. “My cousin shot me. That’s not enough for you?”
He was hiding something. She’d been a detective once in a play and part of her research had included learning the eye movements of liars. She didn’t understand the first thing about this insane family dynamic or what John’s motivations were. “You can tell your captain the truth. That you were hijacked and Sal skipped the country.”
“Yeah. He’ll probably clap me on the back and give me a damn cigar.” He shook his head as he went to the couch. “I had a good reputation before this. I was on the fast track. Now…”
She sat next to him and took his hand, not caring about the drying spots of blood left from his fight with Sal. “I can’t believe this one incident is going to ruin your future. We’ve just met and I know you’re a good detective. The people who work with you must know that, too.”
“No offense, but you don’t know anything about it.”
“Explain it to me.”
He looked at her for a long moment. Finally, he said, “It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing I can do about it now.”
Bella sat back—actually sank back—on the couch. She still didn’t understand why she’d stopped him. Self-preservation was the easy answer, but that explanation didn’t sit right. Something in her had changed during those few minutes of arguing. Not