One Way Out. Wendy Rosnau

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One Way Out - Wendy Rosnau


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gifts. One in each size. For eleven years I thought I was picking up one gift for Frank’s mistress. A mistress he obviously cared a lot about because he never missed a month. But suddenly I learned there were two gifts inside one package. And they were in different sizes.” Lucky took a swallow of scotch. “I thought that was worth checking out, so I decided to fly down to Florida and stake out the post office box.”

      “And that led you to Santa Palazzo.”

      Lucky nodded. “For two days the same man showed up at the post office to retrieve the mail from the box. On the second day, I followed him. When he entered Santa Palazzo, and it was guarded like a fortress, my curiosity doubled. I decided to buy a camera and hang around for a few days to take some pictures. I wanted to see who came and went. That’s when I discovered Rhea.”

      Lucky reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a handful of pictures and tossed them on the coffee table. “I figure you know where this is going. Those are the people who went in and out, the four days I watched the house. There’s only one in there that you’ll recognize other than Rhea.”

      Joey reached for the pictures and shuffled through them, looking for confirmation of what he already knew. When he spied the picture, he said, “Frank was there. He’s known where Rhea’s been hiding the entire time.”

      “It looks that way. But there’s something else you need to know, fratello. Santa Palazzo belongs to our father. In Key West he goes by the name Frank Palazzo.”

      The news was such a shock that for a full minute Joey didn’t speak. Finally, he asked, “You’re absolutely sure? There’s no mistake?”

      “None. He’s owned the estate for twenty-four years.”

      “And Rhea’s been there since she left town?”

      “I’d like to say I’ve confirmed that, but I haven’t. But my gut tells me she’s been there the entire three years. She looked relaxed. Talked to the guards. Smiled. Laughed. What I’m saying is, she’s no prisoner.”

      “If that’s true, then Frank helped her run.”

      “We both know he was upset when you broke off your engagement to Sophia D’Lano.”

      “You’re saying he paid Rhea off?”

      “Maybe. When Frank wants something bad enough, money’s no object. Then, neither is using a power play. He could have cut Rhea a deal. He could have told her she could keep the baby if she cooperated with him.”

      “You think he knew she was pregnant.”

      “Frank’s a cunning son of a bitch. Sure he knew. How, I can’t say, but that’s what motivated him. That’s what my gut tells me.”

      “She could have gone to Frank. Maybe she blackmailed him.”

      Lucky raised his heavy brows. “That’s an interesting twist. You think she’s capable of that?”

      Three years ago Joey would have said no. Today all he could think about was that she had denied him his child.

      “I’m not saying it didn’t happen that way,” Lucky stated. “But the Rhea I remember didn’t seem capable of blackmail. She never even bad-mouthed her psychotic ex-husband.”

      “That’s because she was too busy surviving Stud’s hell, to spend time thinking of much else,” Joey reasoned, showing more emotion than he would have liked.

      “Rhea doesn’t strike me as the manipulative-bitch type. Soft-spoken and kindhearted comes to mind. I can’t pinpoint what made her sexy as hell three years ago. I mean, it wasn’t exactly due to the condition she was in—the bruises and all—but she had something that made a man look twice. We both can’t deny that.”

      More than a dozen qualities had made Joey look twice at Rhea Williams. And any one of them could be blamed for why he had ignored his own rules and mixed business with pleasure.

      Up to that point he hadn’t wasted his time on married women, or divorced women packing baggage. And Rhea had had one helluva lot of baggage. Her ex-husband had been a cop. And if that hadn’t been enough to make Joey steer clear of her, the fact that Stud Williams was a dirty cop working for Frank should have.

      “Remember when Frank offered to spearhead your investigation to find Rhea? Smart move on his part if he was the one hiding her out. My guess is, he put himself in that position to intercept information and to keep you in the dark.”

      Joey said, “We never got any good leads. I always thought that was strange.”

      Lucky nodded, rested his glass of scotch on his long jeans-clad leg. “I traced his flight itineraries for the past year. It wasn’t easy. Frank covers his tracks better than a snake on stilts.”

      “And?”

      “I’ve confirmed eight visits to Key West this past year.”

      Joey swore, then leapt to his feet. “Why didn’t I suspect he was involved in Rhea’s disappearance?”

      “Because he’s good at what he does,” Lucky reasoned. “Hell, for twenty-four years he’s been living a double life without either one of us knowing it. That kind of determination makes me a little nervous. I wonder what else he’s been hiding.”

      “If he’s as good as you say, then, by now he’s on his way here to confront me.” Joey pointed to the silver chain tucked inside his brother’s shirt. “I left my cross on Rhea’s pillow.”

      The cross that nested in the thatch of black hair on Lucky’s chest was identical to the ones Joey and Jackson wore. Lavina had given her boys the crosses one night when hell had descended on them, and all three boys had survived because they had stuck together. The decision they had made that night had bound them for life.

      Lucky arched a brow. “You leave the cross for revenge’s sake, or out of concern for her state of mind once she found Niccolo gone?”

      Not willing to analyze his actions, Joey said, “I want her to come to me. Face me. If she cares about the boy, she’ll come.”

      “My men tell me Frank arrived at Santa Palazzo a few hours ago. My guess is, he got a call that Niccolo was taken and he flew out there soon after. You’re right. If he knows it was you who took Niccolo, we can expect him back here within twenty-four hours.”

      Joey paced to the window, rubbing his jaw. He hadn’t shaved in three days—or slept, for that matter.

      “So what do you want to do about Frank?”

      “I have my son. That’s what I went there for.”

      “The only reason?”

      Joey turned slowly. “What are you saying?”

      “I’m saying Frank’s been lying to us for years. Maybe it’s time we looked into why that is. Maybe we need to find out what he’s hiding at Santa Palazzo besides Rhea Williams.”

      “I’ll go along with that.”

      “And Rhea? What do you plan to do with her once she shows up?”

      Joey wanted it to be all about revenge where Rhea was concerned. It would be easier that way. But when he’d walked into Rhea’s bedroom at Santa Palazzo he had been stopped cold, struck by her familiar scent filling his nostrils. Struck by the sight of her hairbrush on the vanity with blond strands of hair caught in the bristles. To his disgust he’d opened her closet just to look at her clothes.

      “Do you think she knows that her ex-husband is in jail for murder?”

      “That’s an interesting question.” Joey returned to the sofa. “It’s rather recent news. I suppose it would depend whether Frank thought it was news he could use to his advantage or not. Either way, at the moment, Rhea should be more afraid of me than her ex.”

      “Rhea’s been through a lot in her life, fratello.”

      “So


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