Chapter Three
Callie looked at Owen, waiting to see if he had any objections to Nico’s demand that she go with him.
He apparently didn’t because Owen gave her a nod, and he added, “Be careful. I don’t want any more Outlaw Ridge cops dying.”
Callie didn’t want that either, but she wasn’t at all certain this was the way for her to go about staying safe. Still, she couldn’t come up with an alternative, not with all the info she was already trying to process whirling in her head. So, she followed Nico out of the office.
Nico didn’t walk to the front of the building but instead used a side door that led to the parking lot. “Keep watch around us,” he warned her.
Callie’s adrenaline was already sky-high, and that only added to it. But she kept watch as they went outside to Owen’s Hummer. She didn’t see anyone. Well, not a killer anyway, but they caught the attention of a handful of members of the high school marching band setting up a rehearsal in the parking lot of the hardware store, no doubt practicing for the upcoming Founder’s Day celebration and parade that would take place on Main Street in just two days.
Callie also spotted Bertha Holloway, a retired florist and one of the biggest gossips in town. The woman actually stopped on the sidewalk to gawk at them. Soon, there’d no doubt be plenty of talk about Nico and her. About the arrest. About Ted Morrelli’s murder. There’d also be speculation as to whether or not Nico and she had resumed their old ways.
They hadn’t.
That was the one thing Callie was sure of. Pretty much everything else was a big question mark.
She jolted when she felt Nico’s hand touch hers. Except he didn’t just touch. He took it, pulling her to him. Callie’s first reaction was to push him away, which she would have done, if he hadn’t whispered in her ear.
“I need The Fixer to get wind of us being back together,” he said, holding her in place a heartbeat longer before he brushed a kiss on her cheek.
It was all for show. For the benefit of the town’s gossip and the high school band members. If The Fixer had an ear to the ground here, then word of this might get back to him.
“All for show,” she repeated to herself. Several times. And she hoped her body got the message this was a pretense that might stop The Fixer from trying to kill her.
Nico didn’t let the embrace go on for long. Probably because it wasn’t wise for them to be out in the open like this. However, he did keep his hand on her back while he “helped” her into the Hummer.
Callie buckled up, taking a few moments to compose herself while Nico went to the driver’s side and got in. She wouldn’t mention the hug. Or the cheek kiss. Definitely wouldn’t mention the effect it’d had on her, and she hoped he didn’t notice that her breathing was a little too fast and that she might have an aroused look in her eyes.
Just in case he had noticed, she dived right into some questions she had for him. “You really think you can convince your father I’m the love of your life?” she pressed, going with his phrasing.
“That’s the plan,” Nico assured her, starting the Hummer and pulling out of the parking lot.
Callie huffed. “Your father will have heard about the dead body. And he’s not an idiot. He’ll likely figure out that I arrested you because I thought you’d killed Morrelli.”
Nico looked at her. Just a glance really, but even his glances managed to pack a punch. Along with some unwanted old heat.
Really? She had to deal with this now with everything else going on.
“Did you actually believe I’d killed him?” Nico came out and asked.
“Yes,” she snapped.
But then Callie stopped, regrouped and tried to tamp down everything but what was supposed to be her cop’s objectivity. That took a moment. Then, two.
“I thought it was possible,” she finally amended. “The circumstantial evidence was there, and it would have been a dereliction of duty not to arrest you on the spot.”
He gave her another of those looks. Oh, man . This heat wasn’t going away.
“Did you actually believe I’d killed him?” Nico repeated, emphasizing each word.
Callie had to do another battle round with that whole objectivity thing. “I didn’t want to believe you’d killed him. But that was because of our shared past. The truth is though I don’t really know the man you are now so I wasn’t sure what you were capable of.”
Nico sighed. Nodded. “Fair enough. I did let you believe the worst about me eleven years ago.”
Her mind flashed back to that incident. The one where she’d personally witnessed him seemingly making a deal with a known member of a gun-running militia.
“You let me believe the worst,” she muttered and had to rethink everything that’d happened that night. The night when she’d confronted Nico and he hadn’t denied the criminal dealings. The night when she’d told him it was over between them and walked away.
The night he hadn’t stopped her from leaving.
And when Callie had believed Nico had chosen a life of crime over her.
Yeah, rethinking was required.
“You were already working for the FBI by then?” she asked.
He made a sound of agreement. “Not as an agent, but the FBI approached me about being a civilian liaison to help them with an investigation. I think it was a test on their part, to see if I would be cooperative and useful.”
“Apparently, you were both since you’re still working for them,” Callie muttered.
Another sound of agreement. “They fast-tracked me through training, made me an agent and then put me undercover mainly posing as a killer for hire and someone willing to do all sorts of criminal things. My father’s reputation has helped with that persona.”
Yes, that would have helped.
“I couldn’t tell you about that first undercover deal,” Nico added a moment later. “The FBI swore me to secrecy.”
She opened her mouth, ready to blurt out a reminder that she had already been a cop. An honest one who would have never spilled his secret. But it would sound like the bitter rant that it was. And now wasn’t the time or the place.
Because Nico turned onto the private road to his family’s estate.
He parked the Hummer and turned to her. “I want you to stay with me when I talk to Dante.”
“Why, because you think I’ll be in danger from your father if you leave me alone in the house?” she had to know.
Something, maybe amusement, flashed through his eyes. “My father wouldn’t kill you, especially not in his own home. These days his form of retaliation would more likely be trying to get you fired or to cause trouble for you at work. I want you with me while I talk to Dante because I’d like to have an extra set of eyes and ears on him. You might be able to pick up on something I miss. Just play along with whatever I say to him.”
“Play along?” she managed to question, but she was talking to herself because Nico was already getting out of the Hummer.
He went to the passenger’s side to do the gentlemanly thing with helping her out, and she was about to repeat her question when someone opened the front door of the house.
The Rattler.
The man certainly had a way of snagging a person’s complete attention. Tall, iron-gray hair, and still well-built despite being in his sixties. Stefano Salvetti made an imposing figure standing there and throwing off his usual mafia-cowboy vibe. Jeans, pricy-looking boots, a black jacket and a black Stetson. The band of the hat sported the rattler that she supposed had earned him his name. Either that, or his deadly strike reputation.
“Callie,” Stefano said, and it wasn’t a greeting. There was venom in his tone and his icy expression.
She didn’t slow her pace toward him or even attempt to soothe that temper. But Nico did something. He took her hand again, kissing it as they made their way to his father.
“Dad,” he said, and Nico let go of her so he could hug Stefano. “I brought Callie with me so we could explain.”
“What’s to explain?” Stefano snapped, and he kept his gaze staked to her. “You arrested my son.”
“Because she had no choice,” Nico replied before she could speak. He pulled back from his father and took her hand again. “The circumstantial evidence was there, and if Callie hadn’t taken me in, she would have been accused of favoritism.”
Stefano continued to glare at her, but eventually his attention slid to their hands and to the way Nico’s and her sides were pressed against each other. The silence and the scrutiny crawled by at a snail’s pace before Stefano finally stepped back and motioned for them to come inside.
They went in the foyer that Callie knew well since she’d come here often when Nico and she had been together. Of course, there had been some redecorating in the past eleven years, but the place, like its owner, still managed to look imposing.
“Owen Striker let you go?” Stefano asked his son.
Nico nodded. “Owen and Callie.”
“And what does Owen think about that?” Stefano asked, tipping his head to their interlocked hands.
“He’s okay with it,” Nico replied. “What about you?”
Stefano made a sound that could have meant anything. Or nothing. “Dante’s waiting for you,” he said instead, walking with them as they went toward the wing of the house where he kept his office.
Until a couple of months ago, Stefano’s second wife had kept an office there, too, but she had been killed in the aftermath of the massacre that’d left most of the police force dead. Before that, Nico’s mom had also run her business from the wing, but she had passed away from cancer nearly five years earlier.
“So, you didn’t have any part in that man’s death,” Stefano concluded, meeting his son eye to eye.
“No,” Nico answered, but he hesitated, and that hesitation caused Stefano to sigh.
“Dad’s business is completely legit these days,” Nico said to her, “and he thinks everyone should follow suit.”
“They should,” Callie was quick to say.
Stefano and Nico smiled. Darn good smiles. The kind that only added character to their already too handsome faces. Like father, like son.
Except that wasn’t true, she realized.
The Rattler had been a criminal, no doubts about that, even though he’d never spent any time in jail. Nico, on the other hand, had seemingly stayed on the right side of the law.
He just hadn’t taken the risk of telling her that.
Callie shoved that thought away. And the anger and hurt that went along with it. Again, it wasn’t the time, especially when they walked into Stefano’s office and saw Dante at the window, casually sipping a cup of coffee.
The Salvetti genes were obviously strong since Dante had the same build and eye color as Stefano and Nico. In fact, Dante looked more like Nico’s brother than cousin. Same smile, too, she knew, but Dante didn’t flash it this morning. Especially not once his attention landed on her.
“Callie, I wasn’t expecting you,” Dante remarked. There wasn’t just coolness in his voice but concern. Probably a reasonable response considering s Tehe was a cop.
“Callie’s taking some time off this morning,” Nico said.
Now, Dante smiled. Sort of. It was more of a smirk. “You wanted to show Stefano that all was well between you. When did you two get back together?”
“A few weeks ago,” Nico answered without hesitation.
Dante’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Was it Callie who actually asked for this meeting or—”
Again, Nico had a quick answer. “I asked for it. Callie didn’t even know you were here until about a half hour ago.”
That was the truth, but Dante didn’t look as if he bought it. “Should we find some private place to talk then?” Dante asked him.
Nico shrugged. “Here works fine.”
Dante lifted an eyebrow, sliding glances between Nico and her. “Callie is aware of…your activities?”
“Some. She’s not a dirty cop, and I don’t have her or her badge in my pocket if that’s what you’re asking.” Nico paused, smiled at her again, but this time, it was part of the pretense. “Callie and I have reached an understanding. I don’t delve into her business and vice versa.”
“So, she doesn’t think you killed that man found on the road?” Dante fired right back. “Ted Morrelli.”
“Nico didn’t kill him,” Callie spoke up and had to stop herself from adding, Did you? Because she was getting a very bad vibe from Dante.
“I understand you had some recent dealings with Morrelli,” Nico said, turning back to his cousin.
Dante pulled back his shoulder. “Who told you that?”
“Morrelli did,” Nico answered. It was a lie. Or at least she thought it was. Nico had told Owen that he had no idea what Morrelli had wanted to tell him.
The two men stared at each other. And stared. While the Rattler stood back and observed all three of them with volleying glances.
“Morrelli and I have some mutual acquaintances,” Dante finally said. “Nothing major and nothing I care to discuss with either of you.” He paused, sipped his coffee. “But needless to say, I am concerned that someone would murder him. Do you have any suspects?”
Dante aimed that last question at Callie, and she went with the standard response in situations like this. “I’m not allowed to discuss aspects of an ongoing investigation.”
The man huffed. Cursed. “So, you have nothing. Which means you have no way of stopping it from happening again. What if the killer comes after me next?”
“Because of those mutual acquaintances you had with Morrelli,” Callie suggested. “Who exactly would those people be?”
Dante shrugged. “There are many of them.”
“Name one,” Nico suggested. “Give Callie a starting point. Something to work with.”
Callie didn’t expect Dante to cooperate so she was surprised when he said, “Estella Harrington.”
The name meant nothing to Callie, but judging from the way Nico’s body tensed, he recognized it.
Dante smiled. This one had a gloating edge to it. “Estella or Estie as her friends call her is an Austin socialite. Old money, deep Texas roots. She was also friends and a sorority sister with the late Abilene Joyce. You know, the real estate mogul who was murdered at a party. I believe there’s a big fuss about some waiter or such who could testify against the man who killed her. Zed Coulter or something like that. He’s locked up tight in jail, awaiting trial.”
That was some connection, and it put her cop’s instincts on full alert. Her mind began to whirl with possibilities. If Estie was a criminal, then maybe she’d gotten her good friend, Abilene, involved in something dirty. Something dangerous. Something that had caused Abilene to be killed.
“How’s Estie connected to Morrelli and you?” Callie came out and asked.
Dante kept his gaze on Nico when he spoke. “Estie funded a few of our…side businesses. And Morrelli sometimes worked as her hired muscle. But, of course, Estie has a connection to Nico, too. Doesn’t she?”
Nico nodded, and he turned to Callie. However, he didn’t get a chance to speak before Dante added.
“If I’m not mistaken,” Dante continued, flashing that goading smile. “Estie is Nico’s fiancée.”