Married To The Mob. Ginny Aiken
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in this lifetime.
“I’m sorry you think I’m snotty, but you are a handful,” is what he went with. “And you don’t make my job—keeping you alive—any easier.”
“Oh.” She seemed to melt into her pillow. “You are Dan after all. Well, I guess that’s good. You really look scary, though. Wouldn’t want to bump into you in a dark alley.”
“Maybe that’ll help us. Just think. Maybe I’ll scare your brother’s buddies away.”
She snorted. “That’s not even funny. They’re pretty determined.” She settled down under her blanket again. “So what’s our next move?”
“It’s not all sewn up yet, but one thing’s for sure. We’re leaving the mid-Atlantic area ASAP. They got your apartment, and they followed us to the Millers’ place.”
Before Carlie had a chance to comment, a knock at the door drew their attention. Dan slipped his hand inside his jacket then nodded for her to answer.
He never would have guessed the identity of her visitor. Fourteen-year-old Jonas Miller walked in, his steps hesitant, his face flushed, his old-fashioned button-down shirt and dark navy pants an odd contrast to his youth.
“Jonas!” she exclaimed. “How are you? Do your parents know you’re here?”
Pure misery filled his adolescent face. “Ja. They know. They made me come. They even brought me.”
She blinked. “I see. And why would that be?”
The boy looked down at his feet and mumbled something Dan didn’t catch. Obviously, neither did Carlie, since she asked him to repeat himself.
“I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Carlie looked more puzzled than ever, but her voice came out soft, gentle, caring. “What are you sorry about, Jonas? What is the ‘this’ that happened?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t mean for the old barn to burn.”
“And that means…?”
“That it was all my fault.” Jonas looked ready to cry. “I—I know it was wrong, but the guys are always mocking me, so I figured I’d better practice for the next time after school.”
Dan knew what was up, but Jonas had to do this on his own.
“What were you practicing?” Carlie asked.
Jonas shifted his weight from foot to foot. He shoved his hands in his pockets. Then he seemed to come to a decision, squared his shoulders and stared straight at Carlie.
“I don’t want to choke when I smoke again!”
Carlie’s reaction was a quick blink. Dan had to fight the laugh on its way out. Then his mob widow surprised him—again.
“That’s the easiest thing,” she told Jonas. “All you have to do is not smoke. You’ll never choke that way. And those ‘friends’ will be the ones to worry about lung cancer and emphysema while you’re still healthy as a horse. You’ll have the last word.”
“But these guys already tease me because…well, I…I…”
The poor kid’s face turned redder than pizza sauce.
He shrugged. “I get good grades. It’s not so hard. I just go to class, do the homework, and that’s it. But they think I’m some kind of sissy.”
“Jonas, my man,” Carlie said, a smile on her lips. “Come on over here. Have a seat in Dr. Carlie’s office. You and I need to have us a chat.”
Dan’s admiration grew as each one of the next fifteen minutes went by. With her sense of humor and brilliant smiles, Carlie soon had the teen laughing with her. By the time she was done, Dan knew Jonas Miller would never pick up another cigarette. And he genuinely regretted the fire he’d caused. Then Carlie threw him for a loop.
She held her hand out to Jonas and invited him to join her in prayer. For some strange reason, their earnest expressions did something to him. He didn’t back off as he normally would have, but instead he stayed and watched them, their heads close, their hands clasped, their voices low and intense.
An odd pang hit him, a sudden loneliness, nothing he’d experienced before, something he hoped never hit him again. It was a restless sensation, an urge for some unknown something, a sense of need.
After they said amen, Jonas headed for the door. “Bye, Miss Carlie.”
“Now you just wait one cotton pickin’ minute there, Jonas Miller.” Carlie’s fake scolding dripped with her trademark humor. “You don’t think you can leave here without giving me a hug, do you?”
Dan watched the boy, one whose background inspired reserve, bend down to Carlie and give her the hug she’d asked for. It was an awkward, stiff hug, but a hug is a hug is a hug.
Amazing.
A nurse came into the room as Jonas left and she shooed Dan away. She insisted he had to go so she could take Carlie’s vital signs. He left, went to the snack shop downstairs, and bought himself a bucket of coffee and a gooey sticky bun. Of course, as soon as he bit into the pastry, his cell phone rang.
“Yeah,” he mumbled around the mouthful of delicious dough.
“How’s it going?” asked his partner, J.Z. Prophet.
“If I said bad to worse, it wouldn’t begin to give you a clue.”
“What’s the deal? The family’s after you again?”
“They never stopped.” Dan gave J.Z. a brief rundown of the latest events, even told his partner about Jonas’s ill-fated attempt at being cool. That made them both laugh, but didn’t ease their concern.
“You know what’s got to happen, don’t you?” J.Z. asked.
“Yeah. We’ve got to hit the road again. I’m just waiting for Eliza to let me in on the secret of our destination.”
“And she’s no more cooperative than usual.”
“You got it.”
“Well, Maryanne and I will keep you both in our prayers. Be safe.”
The prayer bit made Dan squirm on his stool. He ignored that statement, and said, “You, too.”
He hurried to finish his pastry and the transfusion of caffeine. He had to get back to Carlie. Who knew what kind of trouble she’d kicked up by now? The woman needed a keeper, and unfortunately, the Bureau had picked him for the job.
The second he stepped into the elevator, his cell phone rang again. This time, the caller wasn’t quite as welcome as his previous one.
“Yes, Eliza. Do you have instructions for me?”
In brief, his boss gave him a laundry list of steps to follow. When she finally disclosed their ultimate destination, Dan couldn’t stop his groan.
“You’ve got to be kidding, Eliza. That’s inhuman.”
“Live with it, Maddox. It’s the best solution for a difficult situation. Or to be more accurate, the best solution for a difficult witness.”
He didn’t much care to hear his snippy boss refer to Carlie that way; it was different when he did it. He knew Carlie, while Eliza had just met her once or twice during the investigation into Carlo Papparelli’s murder.
“Fine,” he said. “We’ll take off as soon as the doctors let her go.”
“You might not want to wait that long, Agent Maddox. I won’t tell you how to do your job, even though I can, and you know it, but don’t think time is on your side.”
The elevator door opened just as Dr. Wong walked out of Carlie’s room. “I hear you loud and clear, Eliza. And now I have to go meet