The Coltons: Fisher, Ryder & Quinn. Justine Davis
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she’s got a point. I feel like I’m at a tennis match.” Franco’s pen never stopped moving on the page.
A tennis match where he wasn’t scoring many points off his opponent, Jack thought. She had a sharp mind, and at any other time he would have enjoyed matching wits with her. “Look. It’s just possible that I might have seen the shooter this morning when I was running at Pier 39. I saw a blind man there, too, and he was walking his dog. I can’t be sure it was the same man, but later I thought I saw him again in a car that backfired in front of our apartment building. He could have followed me there and then out to the airport.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And there’s something else I haven’t told you about Benny Lewis.”
Corie nodded. “You’re referring to the fact that Benny Lewis used to have mob connections.”
Jack stared at her. “You know about that?”
Franco flicked a glance at Jack. “She’s not the naive little librarian we thought she was.”
Corie’s brows shot up as she shifted her gaze from one man to the other. “It would be a rare librarian indeed who could still be naive with the information highway at her fingertips. I researched everything about the man who might be my father. One of the most informative articles I found was written by one Jack Kincaid for the San Francisco Chronicle. It traced Benny Lewis’s family back to one of the first organized crime families in this country.” She met Jack’s eyes steadily. “And it revealed that you are not welcome on the Lewis estate. I figure that’s one of the reasons you invited me out here. I’m your leverage to get an interview, or whatever it is you’re after.”
“Busted,” Franco murmured.
Jack felt the heat rising in his neck. “I was going to tell you. I just didn’t want to do it over the phone.”
“In your article, you also said that the Lewis Winery and the Crystal Water Spa are legitimate businesses, and that Benny Lewis cut all ties to his organized crime confederates over thirty years ago when he moved out here. Do you have any reason to believe otherwise?”
“Just a feeling.”
“It’s a feeling that Jack’s been nursing for twelve years or so—ever since I’ve known him,” Franco put in. “He’s got nothing to substantiate it.”
Corie frowned thoughtfully. “But if you could connect the gunman at the airport to Benny, then you’d have something more than a feeling, right?”
“The plot thickens,” Franco said.
Jack glared at him. “This isn’t a screenplay.”
Corie took a sip of her Irish coffee, then looked at him. “We should get going right away.”
“You want to go back to Fairview.” Jack didn’t blame her.
“Of course not,” Corie said taking another sip of her coffee.
Jack stared at her. He couldn’t quite keep up with her. She wasn’t angry that he hadn’t mentioned the Lewis family’s early organized crime connections, nor did she seem to be frightened. “Let me get this straight. You’ve known all along that Benny Lewis had mob connections in his past, and now you know that I think he still might. Aren’t you worried at all?”
“Not really. But I didn’t come out here with blinders on. If Benny Lewis is my father, then twenty-six years ago something happened to make my mother run away and live the life of a recluse. I took two weeks to decide whether or not I wanted to come out here and open up that can of worms. And I do. So let’s get started. If there is a connection between that blind gunman at the airport and the Lewis family, then it might have something to do with why my mother hid away all these years. What’s your plan?”
“Plan?”
“Plot point number two. Hero and heroine join forces to solve the crime,” Franco said as he scribbled. “Shades of The Thin Man.”
Corie turned to Franco. “I just love those movies. Nick and Nora Charles were the perfect partners.” She turned back to Jack. “When can we get started?”
Jack frowned. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t work with a partner. I work alone.”
“But you invited me out here, and you need me to gain access to Benny.”
In the short beat of silence that followed, Franco cleared his throat. “She’s got you there.”
Then Corie and Franco merely waited, watching him expectantly. The shy little librarian had a mind like a steel trap and a dogged determination that surprised him and drew his admiration at the same time. Until he figured out how to handle her, his best strategy was to distract her.
“My plan is simple. I’m going to take you to a party Friday night—a reception following the dedication of the new children’s wing at San Francisco Memorial Hospital. It’s being held at the Monahan House, one of San Francisco’s newest and most exclusive hotels. A close friend of mine, Jake Monahan, owns the hotel, and so he’s going to see that we get into the reception.”
“Why can’t I meet Benny sooner?” Corie asked.
“He’s out of the country visiting a new winery that he purchased in southern Italy. He’ll be flying back on Thursday evening specifically for the party on Friday. He and the whole family will be there. It’s a public affair. I figure it’s your best scenario for meeting him.”
“And you’re just going to walk up to Benny and introduce me as his long-lost illegitimate daughter?”
“No. I’ll introduce you as Corie Benjamin.” He drew a photo out of his pocket and placed it in front of her. “Since you look almost exactly like your mother, I’m assuming that he’ll agree to speak with you in a more private arena.”
Corie stared down at the old picture. The first thing that struck her was that the woman sitting in the restaurant booth next to the darkly handsome man could have been her twin sister. Over the years, she had grown used to comments that she and her mother looked alike, but now she was facing concrete evidence of it.
“You’re sure this man is Benny Lewis?” she asked.
“Yes,” Jack said. “I’ve got several other photos of him from that time period.”
Corie felt the prick of tears at the back of her eyes. The man in the picture was so handsome, and the charm was so evident in his smile. Her mother looked so young, and so happy. She touched a finger to the woman’s face and for the first time she let herself believe that the man in the picture might indeed be her father. A rush of feeling moved through her, tightening her throat and squeezing into a little band around her heart. She would be meeting him in a little more than thirty-six hours.
Raising her eyes to meet Jack’s, she said, “I was hoping, but I didn’t really believe it before.”
He reached out and took her hand.
Linking her fingers with his, she met Jack’s gaze steadily. “I do now. I really think he’s my father. And I’m not going to let some crazy man at the airport scare me away.”
“Here! Here!” Franco said as he raised his mug in another toast.
Corie took a sip of her coffee and then said, “But Friday is two days away. Shouldn’t we be investigating something in the meantime? We could go out to the winery and look for a man with a dog wearing sunglasses and a fedora and carrying a white cane.”
Jack bit back a grin. Not only was Corie smart and determined, but she wasn’t going to be easily distracted. “If he was wearing a disguise, he won’t be wearing it the next time we see him.”
“Good point,” Franco said. “You two are about even right now.”
“And you have an appointment at Lorenzo’s at two o’clock,” Jack added.
Franco raised his glass again. “To the new Corie Benjamin.”