Chapter Seventeen
Good thing Italians were demonstrative and liked to hug. The tension Franco had been feeling from the moment Matteo had spoken to them began to ebb. He’d momentarily forgotten where they were in his haste to comfort Rico.
Dakota followed Matteo down the hallway and, when they made eye contact, he knew immediately she’d seen them embrace. She winked at him, and he went to give her a hug. He felt a connection with her that was different than with other family members, because he didn’t have to hide around her.
“How are things going, Dakota?” Franco asked. Her baby bump was more noticeable than it had been in September, but she still had that glow about her.
“Can’t complain. Life with your brother is great, and my first semester at fire school is going well.” While pregnant, she’d been relegated to focusing on general education coursework. With the baby was due near the beginning of the next semester, Dakota told Matteo she planned to jump into at least one of the more physical courses required in her major that same month. But he’d put his foot down, and she’d grudgingly accepted it might be too soon. “How about you?”
He gave a half shrug. “Same old, I guess.” Of course, that wasn’t true. His life now revolved around Rico and Gina and trying to help them navigate their new situation.
Dakota turned to the man who had been driving Franco into a frenzy since her wedding. “I’m so sorry about your cousin, Rico.”
“Thanks. She’s at peace now.” He pointed to her bump. “I had a feeling you were pregnant at your wedding but didn’t want to spoil the surprise for anyone else.” Rico added, “I had my suspicions about Carmella too.”
Dakota laughed. “Yeah, you definitely must have a weird ability to tell when a woman is pregnant. Next time I’ll come to you rather than bother with a home pregnancy test.” She laughed then grew serious. “Gina found out we’re the ones with the horses. She’s persistent.”
“That kid sure moves fast.” Rico laughed. “I was going to ask you later about possibly coming down to see your ranch. Ever since Franco told her about your horses, she’s been wanting to see them.”
“I told her I’d need to check with you first.”
“Just name the date, Matt and Dakota, and we’ll make it work.”
“I’m scheduled to work either the Saturday, Sunday, or both days every weekend in the entire month of October,” Matteo said. “So unfortunately, it won’t be until the first weekend in November.”
“Would you both like to come then?” Dakota asked looking between Rico and Franco.
“Sounds great. We’ll be back from Chicago by then. I’m sure Gina will be chomping at the bit by that point.”
“If not already.” Dakota smiled. “Of course, you’re both welcome anytime.” Dakota wrapped her arm around Matteo, “but we’re still newlyweds with job and school schedules to work around, so when we only have one day together during a weekend, we like our time together.”
As it should be.
“And my OB will have a fit if I ride again before this baby is born,” she cradled her bump tenderly, “but Matteo can ride with you.”
Matteo grinned at her. “For once, she’s taking a doctor’s advice.”
“Well, I have to think about this little fella.”
“It’s a boy?” Franco asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I just have a feeling.”
Mama always said she knew with each of her children if they would be a boy or girl long before it was confirmed at the birth or by a test, so there must be something to a pregnant woman’s intuition.
“I guess we’ll find out in a few months,” Dakota said. “But I can still give riding instructions from the ground.”
Mama came to the entrance of the foyer before he could discuss that further. “Dinner’s ready. Have I lost all four of you?” Mama smiled and came toward them. “Rico, thank you for sharing Gina with us. She’s such a joy.”
“My pleasure. Thanks for spending so much time with her yesterday. She talked nonstop about your day together when she got back to my house last night.”
Mama hugged Rico. “I hope you’ll let me steal her away from you on a regular basis. You’re doing a great job with her. She seems to be adjusting as well as any child could.”
“I’m trying my best.”
Mama turned to Franco and hugged him in an almost cursory manner. “Now, let’s eat before all my food is cold.” Ah, that explained the bum’s rush.
“Mama,” Franco assured her, “your meals will never go to waste, hot or cold.”
Tony and Marc were on duty, but Carmella and Angelina were here. Carmella looked about as far along as Dakota. Sitting next to one another, they would probably be comparing notes before the dinner was over.
Rafe clapped him on the back. “Won’t be long before we’re uncles, Franco.” Symbolically, Franco was already one to Gina, but having two more nieces or nephews appealed to him as well. Not that he’d have a clue how to interact with a baby. Gina was easier and a lot of fun right from the start.
Rafe kept a grip on his shoulder and guided him to the chair next to him. “I hear you’re involved in a big arson investigation.”
“They’re all big.”
Rico sat down across the table. Franco had hoped to sit next to him, but Rafe apparently wanted to talk shop. Rafe knew Franco couldn’t really say much about an ongoing investigation, and it wasn’t something they’d want to talk about over dinner anyway, especially around civilians. Regardless, Rafe tried to pump him with general questions.
“I can’t wait to ride your horses,” Gina said to Dakota.
“Give us a month,” Dakota said, “and we’ll be ready for you. It’s going to be a fun weekend.”
“Zio Franco, are you going to ride too?”
Everyone but Rico and Mama stared at him for some reason, then he realized it was the first time they’d heard Gina call him uncle. Well, they might as well get used to it. He intended to be a part of her life as long as Rico wanted him around.
“Matteo might have to give me lessons, but I’m game to try.”
“Now this I’ve got to see,” Rico added.
Quiet, brat.
Wait. Rico’s not your sub or your brat.
“Might be interesting to see you on a horse too, Rico,” Franco teased.
“I’m ready to ride whenever you are.”
An image of Rico in assless chaps flitted through his mind. The playful innuendo in his voice brought to mind the fantasy of riding Rico rather than a horse, but that wouldn’t be in the cards until Rico’s life was more under control. Privacy was nonexistent for him at the moment.
“I’d buy tickets for that show,” Rafe said. Franco was momentarily dumbfounded, wondering if Rafe had surmised where Franco’s thoughts had drifted. “Neither one of you have been around horses much.”
Oh, he meant riding horses!
Rico winked at Franco then grew serious and smiled down at Gina. “If this little sweetheart wants me to ride a horse, I’m open to trying.” Gina turned toward him and smiled. She’d totally wrapped Rico around her little finger, but it was safe to say she’d done the same with Franco.
And now she’d apparently lassoed in the rest of the family.
Franco and Rick finally obtained the footage shot by the news crews at two Denver TV stations. Each man had taken one of the videos to pore over initially and then they planned to switch in case one of them missed something that stood out to the other.
By the time the reporters at this station had arrived on scene, the house had been fully engulfed. Too bad this channel didn’t have anything earlier. But Franco kept watching, slowing down the feed every now and then to scrutinize the bystanders. Most wore bathrobes, as if they’d been roused from their beds by the drama unfolding at their neighbors’ house.
The footage rolled by at a snail’s pace, but he didn’t see anyone familiar from the eyewitness video at the storefront business that had burned earlier. The only other video of anyone suspicious had been Adam’s surveillance footage from the Five Points nightclub.
Franco only had about fifteen seconds left on his video and had all but given up hope when a man in a gray hoodie stepped into the frame. His back to the camera, he didn’t stay long enough for Franco to note any identifying marks on the hoodie.
Then the video ended.
Damn.
Franco closed his laptop and crossed the hall to Rick’s office. Maybe the other station had shots of the suspect from a different angle. Rick sat hunched over his screen. Not wanting to distract him, Franco came around to look over his shoulder. Rick had done the same with him many times. Two sets of eyes were better than one, and Franco already knew about where the man in the hoodie had been standing with the other newsroom’s footage.
The angle was different, so the two camera people must have set up at different ends of the property. Franco wasn’t sure where the hooded man had come from, so he studied the crowd carefully.
“There!” Franco pointed to the screen, and Rick hit the pause button. “Sorry. I saw this guy on my footage and wanted to see if he showed up on yours too. See the man in the hoodie?”
Unfortunately, they could only see him from the side here, and his face was mostly hidden. “Turn around, you bastard,” Rick muttered.
If only he could will the man to comply with the demand, but as with the other footage, time was running out. The man stood almost out of the frame, not what the cameraman was trying to capture. Still, Franco hoped they’d get lucky. They could use a break right about now.
To Franco’s disgust, the man pivoted around, turning his back to the camera, and walked out of view. Both Franco and Rick slumped in disappointment.
“Who is that guy?” Rick asked.
“I wish I knew.”
“Have we been able to get a trace on the man who called 911 yet?”
“The one with the creepy, whispery voice?” Rick asked.
“Yeah.” He almost sounded as if he were finding sexual excitement from reporting the fire. Well, maybe not reporting it, but certainly from watching. He had to have eyes on the fire when he made the call.
Rick hit the play button.
Dispatcher: 911. What’s your emergency?
Caller: There’s a fire on Glenarm Place.
Dispatcher: Do you have the number for the residence?
Caller: They’ll find it by the towering flames. But they’d better get someone down here fast. I haven’t seen anyone escape yet, and the flames have moved over to the house. There are children in there.
Before dispatch could ask who was calling, he’d hung up. A trace of the phone number had indicated it was a burner phone—just what an arsonist trying to fly under the radar would use.
Franco and Rick rewound one of the videos to the last part where there’d been a glimpse of a man in a hoodie. Had he made the call? Trying to see if he could see any identifying marks, Franco moved closer, but the man kept both hands inside his pockets and his head covered. They’d been able to lift a Nike footprint from the dirt in a flowerbed behind the house, but without the actual shoe to make a comparison, that wouldn’t help them much. This man was wearing some type of athletic shoe.
Surely there was a clue they must be missing.
But damn it. What the hell is it?
Patti Varga’s hand shook as soon as she read the return address. Colorado Department of Corrections. Was Roger Hendricks up for parole already? Would she have to face him again? She’d do whatever it took to keep her bastard ex in a prison cell the rest of his life, even though he’d only been sentenced to eight years for assault and battery and false imprisonment.
She opened the envelope and read that Roger had been released on parole for good behavior—
The letter dropped from her hands.
He’s out?
Would he come after her?
Why hadn’t they informed her he was up for parole? They were supposed to allow her to testify.
Roger was evil. He would seek revenge for her having testified against him at his trial three years ago.
How long had he been out? She bent down to pick up the letter on the floor in the foyer of her apartment building.
Last November!? He’d been out for almost a year and they were just telling her now? A hollow dread settled in the pit of her stomach, just before she felt bile rise in her throat. Running up the stairs to her apartment, she unlocked the door, stumbled inside, and made a beeline to the bathroom where she lost her breakfast.
Sitting on the floor, leaning her back against the vanity, she wrapped her arms around her torso the way her therapist had taught her to comfort herself when alone and upset. Staring dead eyed at the wall, she thought about all the places she’d gone since then where she could have walked right past him and never known he was close enough to grab her. Hurt her.
Finally kill her.
All the while naively thinking he was behind bars where he belonged and wouldn’t be able to hurt her any longer.
The door to the apartment opened, breaking Patti out of her stupor. She jumped up to lock the bathroom door, as if that would offer her any protection against Roger. The man had beaten down every door in their apartment at one time or another, trying to get to her so that he could continue beating on her.
“Patti?”
Victor! He’d come home for lunch. Of course, he did so most days. She’d even prepared something for them before going downstairs to check the mail.
Unlocking the door, she ran out and into his arms.
“What’s wrong, Patticakes? You’re shaking.”
She couldn’t put into words what had happened, as if not saying it would make it any less real. He stroked her hair and held her in a protective embrace. She always felt safe in his arms.
He stepped back, cupped her chin, and searched her eyes. She tried to evade his gaze, but he was having none of that.
“Eyes on me.”
Reluctantly, she met his gaze and tried to muster the courage to tell him. “He’s out.”
“Those bastards.” She didn’t even have to tell him who she meant. “They were supposed to let you know so you could appear at the parole hearing.”
Patti nodded. “But they didn’t. Some mix-up, they said.” Patti looked around and found the letter on the credenza near the door. Now for the hard part. She handed it to him but didn’t wait for him to read the dreaded words. “Victor, he’s been out since November.”
“Fuck.” He didn’t try to hide his surprise or disgust as he took the letter and read. “And they’re just telling you now?” She waited for him to finish, watching his face grow harder as he read each line.
“I’ve always made sure they knew my address. How could they forget to inform me?” But weren’t the survivors always the ones left out of the justice system? Despite Colorado’s Crime Victim Rights Act and other measures, when it all boiled down, there was no guarantee or consideration.
Victor lowered the letter and stroked her cheek with his other hand. “You did everything right, Baby. They fucked up.”
“What am I going to do now? I can’t go to work knowing he could be the person sitting at the next table I wait on.” Patti had finally become brave enough to get a job as a server this past spring, and enjoyed working and engaging with customers and coworkers, but hadn’t realized how vulnerable she’d been all this time.
“He isn’t likely to show up in a high-end restaurant like yours, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be waiting for you outside if he knows where you work. Let me give Adam a call and see what kind of protection he and his team can offer.”
Rather than walking with her into the living room, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the sofa. Without putting her down first, he sat and settled her on his lap before pulling out his phone to make the call.
Victor pulled an afghan over her, and Patti rested the side of her face against his shoulder. If only she could stay curled up like this forever, but that wouldn’t be possible. Victor had work to do. Some nefarious arsonist had killed a family of five last month in a fire, and Victor and Franco were both determined to stop him before he killed again.
Besides, she had a job now too. Victor would call in all the reinforcements necessary to protect her, and Adam’s security firm was the best in town. She didn’t want to think about having a bodyguard, surveillance cameras, and all the other measures it would take to protect her, but she wouldn’t survive another encounter with Roger.
“Hey, Adam, Patti and I need your help.” That Victor made it his problem too warmed her heart. They were in this together, and Roger had also threatened to go after Victor when he’d seen them together in the courtroom. Victor had never let her face him alone in court, for which she’d been grateful.
Victor’s deep voice rumbled through his chest and against her cheek, comforting her. She didn’t really listen to what was being said. Her mind regurgitated the news from the letter. Then Victor said something she’d missed.
“He hasn’t registered anywhere as a sex offender and his parole officer hasn’t been in touch with him since January. He could be anywhere.”
Again, terror settled into her stomach, but she didn’t want to run back to the bathroom. Victor calmly stroked her arm and back, and she focused on the spicy scent of his aftershave and the touch of his hand, and didn’t allow herself to spiral down to that dark place again.
“Sounds good, Adam. We’ll be over tonight as soon as I get off work. Patti had the day off already.”
Victor disconnected the call and didn’t say anything at first.
“We’re going over to Adam and Karla’s?”
“Actually, he asked us to meet at his headquarters. He didn’t want the kids seeing you distraught, although I know you’ll feel better once we have a little time to process this.”
Patti nodded. She’d let fear consume her after reading the letter but felt a little braver knowing that she wouldn’t just be a sitting duck. She had a concealed carry permit and knew how to use her handgun. And Victor and Adam would do everything possible to keep her safe until Roger could be arrested on the parole violation. Then he’d have to go back to prison to serve the rest of his initial sentence.
Everything was going to be okay.