Chapter Fourteen
Dan and Jenna knew they could no longer hide their connection, and Dan walked with Jenna toward the balcony to see if they could spot Gail and Sal. But they were nowhere to be seen. Jenna put her hand on Dan’s arm. “Why did Sal hate you so much in the first place? My memory is hazy about those last days. Wasn’t it a family thing, he married someone connected to the mob, right?”
Dan scanned the area, and he lowered his voice. “Oh, that’s right, we had gone our separate ways by the time it finally all washed out. And again, I promise you I left for your good as well as mine and partly for just this reason—Sal Amato. Anyway, Sal married Tony Malono’s niece, Angela. That alone started some talk among his FBI colleagues. Everyone knew Malono was mob-connected then, and they couldn’t have that kind of thing happen without repercussions. They wanted Sal out of the FBI. He fought it, saying Angela was a niece, and not close to the family, and she was not connected to the family business, and on and on. The FBI didn’t believe him; or if they did, they didn’t care. His career was over, anyway. Sal was on the cusp of getting fired when all this happened. He had been in their sights for some time. Sal inadvertently led them to some of the mob connections. So, no one was very happy with Sal.”
“But still, what does it have to do with you now?”
Dan led her farther around the balcony and away from the doorway. “Sal Amato left the FBI, joined the Malono family for real, and was all too happy to blame me for getting Tony arrested for framing my dad. After they stole half my dad’s collection of diamonds and gems and then set him up to look as if he were committing insurance fraud, he must have known I’d not stand for it. Dad begged me not to get involved and to let the police handle it, but I couldn’t stay out of it. I’m sure his worrying about me didn’t help his health. And, of course, the rest you know.”
Jenna nodded. “Yes, all too well. I’m still confused about the Sal Amato interest right now. Is it just revenge?”
“After we found where Tony Malono had hidden everything, with his cohort, Boris Roget of course, international fence extraordinaire, we took back what was stolen after Tony went to prison. I was then officially on Sal Amato’s blacklist. Though it might not speak well of my character, I admit it was fun taking Roget’s artwork, in addition to reclaiming my dad’s stolen property, just for revenge. Most all of the items likely stolen from someone else, anyway.”
Feeling the beginning of a headache, Jenna rubbed her forehead. “Gail hates you for outwitting her, and Sal hates you for what you did to his wife’s family. Now they have teamed up. It gets better and better. But why wait five years to try payback?”
Dan shrugged. “Remember, the saying, revenge is a dish best served cold. They needed to think of the best way to do it. Number one was finding me, and I guess that took some time. After they did, then there was the problem of how to bring me down without the blame getting back to them. Mobsters have long memories and a world of patience. Jenna, I am so sorry you are being dragged back into this. I hope you don’t send me packing after tonight. Please tell me you do understand why I wanted to keep you free of it. Tell me you really understand and forgive me for leaving you. Can you do that now? It’s important to me—more than you know.”
“I understand, but I still don’t see why you couldn’t let me know what happened to you long before now. And Elliott—I could have helped with that. Five years, five long years of wondering, Dan.”
“I told you; I was not fit company. I wasn’t me, anymore. I was useless, broken, and I couldn’t think straight.”
“But why didn’t you trust me enough to let me help you or try to help, anyway?”
“I couldn’t think like that, Jenna. I felt depleted and exhausted, no good to anyone. I was crushed because I failed everyone. I just couldn’t let you see me that way. I just couldn’t bear to see myself through your eyes. It would have killed me.”
Jenna wanted to touch his face and run her fingers through his hair more than anything. But she couldn’t. Her voice cracked, but she got it out. “All right, I guess I do forgive you.”
“Remind me to thank you properly later.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You know, I never did find out who sold me out at the NYPD. Someone told Sal Amato about the investigation long before the FBI got involved in the case, after my dad died.”
Jenna shook her head. “Oh no, don’t go there right now. One thing at a time. Let’s shut this person or persons down first, and then we can go tackle the NYPD rat.”
“We?”
Jenna gave him a big smile. “I assumed since we both are going back to New York City after this, we should have a joint project. Oh, look, it’s Brock—and Harper, deep in conversation. And yes, she brought another dress. Odd to bring one’s wardrobe to a party.”
Dan suppressed a grin but raised his eyebrows. “You did say Brock was impressed with her. I think they make a cute couple.”
“Really, Dan. Ah, they’ve seen us. Here they come.” Jenna took a sip of wine from the glass she forgot she was holding. “We should be back inside, not out here. Let’s drift back that way before they know we’ve seen them.”
“I need to keep an eye on Gail and Sal. Where did they get to?” Dan whispered.
Jenna shrugged and turned to go. “I’m going in to make sure Marta Roseland is doing okay. They’ve seen us together. Good luck.” Jenna gave Brock and Harper a smile and a wave as they approached, but she went inside, leaving Dan to deal with the two. She heard Harper’s horse-laugh but didn’t turn to see what was going on. Instead, she made her way toward Marta Roseland.
The noise level in the room rose, and that meant more people had come in or those already there had been drinking more. Jenna found Marta in the corner with Lizbeth Ames, a columnist for The Atlanta Journal , and Eva Shore, the editor for The Savannah News .
“Hi, Jenna, don’t you look like a million in that dress,” Lizbeth said.
“Thank you, and it’s nice to see you here. It’s been what, two years?”
“Since Miami, I think. Speaking of that, there’s a handsome editor down there who was asking about you on a zoom call last week. He wanted to know if you were still single. What should I tell him?”
Jenna laughed and held up her left hand to Lizbeth. “Guilty—but not looking right now.”
“Don’t you hear that biological clock, at all? Or is that just some myth the baby doctors started?”
Marta chuckled. “Really, Lizbeth, you do get personal. Boundaries are a wonderful thing, my dear.”
“It’s okay, Marta. Jenna and I have a few secrets, right?”
Jenna laughed. “Right, yes we do have a few secrets, and no, I hear no clock. I think my clock is broken, my friend.”
Marta shook her head. “Oh, you two are making me sad.”
“Who’s that long-legged blonde woman with the loud laugh, Jenna? Do you know?” Lizbeth nodded toward Harper who came into view.
Jenna shrugged. “Harper something or the other— ex-model turned photographer, turned idle rich, world traveler, or something like that. She’s a friend of a friend. I don’t really know her.”
Lizbeth elbowed Marta in the side. “OMG, here she comes.”
“This is where all the important ladies hang out, is it?” Harper asked, her perfume arriving a few seconds before she did.
Jenna saw Marta recoil. Whether from the perfume or Harper’s loud voice, she wasn’t sure. Lizbeth seemed amused, but not annoyed.
Lizbeth, giving Harper an unapologetic once-over, sat back. “Yes, we are the circle to join. And who might you be?”
Jenna saw Marta try to hide her smile. She knew Lizbeth put Harper in her place with only those few words. They didn’t know her, so she wasn’t important—that was the message they were sending Harper. Welcome to the South. Lizbeth and Marta were a credit to the Southern, steel magnolia-woman myth if ever one had lived.
Harper took a step back and frowned, sticking her lower lip out in a mock pout. “Oops, no manners Harper, that’s me.” She plastered a fake smile on her face. “Sorry, I should have introduced myself. All these Southern manners, I forget where I am sometimes.”
“Oh, honey, that’s a dangerous thing. Never forget where you are. So, tell us what you do and your connection to the senator and Mrs. Roseland’s event,” Lizbeth said, not letting Harper off the hook for one second.
Harper regrouped with a fake smile. “I’m here to support the cause, of course, and to see and be seen like everyone else. I wanted to get an interview and some pictures, but your assistant, Kerri, I think her name was, declined for you, Mrs. Roseland.”
“Yes, we ran out of time to do all we wanted to do and needed to close the media down. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have the time to talk to my guests and friends who are here to relax, have some fun, and support my husband’s campaign efforts.”
“Too bad, I could have helped with that effort. Maybe next time,” Harper said, but pausing as she turned to go. “And don’t you look stunning, Jenna. Where’s your date—did you lose him to someone? He is a handsome one and charming, too.”
“He’s not mine to lose, Harper. He’s free to do what he wants. We’re not joined at the hip or anywhere else,” Jenna said, with more force than necessary.
“Good to know. I don’t ever try to take what’s not mine. I’m learning it’s important to know the rules here in the South.” Harper gave them a backward wave and left.
Marta shuddered as they watched Harper disappear back into the crowed room. “Ugh, what a horrible woman.”
Lizbeth nodded and frowned. “She looks so familiar, and now, it’ll bug me until I figure it out. But yes, horrible is the word, whoever she is.”
Jenna looked at Lizbeth. “Yes on both counts! She’s off-putting to say the least, and it has been driving me bonkers trying to recall where I’ve seen her before. The best I can figure out is maybe at one of the European events. I was over there covering the motorcycle races and other events some years ago in my photography days. She’s in, or was, in a similar field, so I could have met her there. Dan—an old friend of mine, has gone out with her a few times, and she joined him here for the first night’s events. But they have gone their separate ways since then.”
“I can’t see Dan with that woman. What was he thinking?” Marta asked.
Jenna laughed and shrugged.
Lizbeth’s raised her eyebrows. “And what did he tell you about her?”
Jenna paused, pondering if even some of what she knew was safe to tell. “Not that much. She has money, travels a lot, used to model, got into to photography, and freelanced for some magazines. I’m not even sure she’s American.”
Lizbeth shook her head. “I’d guess that she’s not. That backward wave is Italian. And did you notice how she slowed down her speech on some words as if she was searching in her head for the word?”
Marta laughed. “Only you would notice that.”
Jenna laughed, too, though she found nothing funny about Harper’s remarks about Brock, clearly meant to be a challenge to annoy her.
“My date, Brock, who she was referring to, enjoyed meeting her, and he seems to be finding her fascinating because she can speak several languages. He also said she seemed to have odd gaps in knowledge. It all sounds as if she is foreign born. A mystery woman.”
Lizbeth shrugged. “Foreign or not, I didn’t like her, and it has nothing to do with where she might or might not be from. She is what my mother used to call ‘a hard woman’ meaning she has seen the world. She’s a user, a survivor. I got that vibe from her.”
Jenna nodded. “I can see why the guys find her fascinating though, besides the looks I mean. She does have that I-have-seen-everything and done-it-all look about her, along with a certain level of mystery.”
Eva Shore, who had been quietly observing and listening, frowned as she looked at her phone. “If you all will excuse me, my husband is trying to get my attention. It’s likely he wants me to promise to put some of his cronies in the newspaper. You do have such interesting parties, Marta.”
“Come back and join us if you can, Eva.” Marta waved at Eva’s husband across the room. “Tell him he’s breaking up some good girl talk.”
Marta motioned for Jenna and Lizbeth to follow her, and they moved over to the other side of the room to a sitting area. “Ugh, did you notice she was taking in every word about the long-legged, blonde vixen?” Marta asked, as they took their seats.
Jenna put a hand on Marta’s. “Surely, she won’t put anything in her coverage of the party about Harper. Why would she? She’s a friend of yours, right?”
“Oh, Jenna, don’t worry about that. She is a gossip, but yes, a friend. She won’t do anything to hurt me. Well, nothing that wouldn’t give her a much bigger payoff anyway. For the record, Lizbeth knows about the jewel thief we are expecting, and she has agreed to help be your eyes and ears as needed until this is over.”
Lizbeth nodded. “Yes, I’m staying with Marta and James and then going on all the campaign trail stops on the way back to Atlanta when this is over. Marta will text you my number later, so you will have it, if needed. Unless you have a phone tucked in your cleavage there now and I can add it.”
Jenna laughed. “No phone in my cleavage, and I laughed when Dan suggested I keep my phone on vibrate. I didn’t point out my outfit did not have room for a phone. I do have my smart watch. I can see a text message from my watch, which is a terrible fashion statement for such an event and does not go with my outfit at all.”
Marta patted Jenna’s hand. “We will forgive any fashion faux paus, knowing you are on duty, my dear.”
“Thanks. We are outnumbered when it comes to all the people we need to watch and the large territory we must cover. Your eyes and ears are welcome, Lizbeth.”
They heard Harper’s laugh and looked around. “Oh, mercy, there she is with three guys around her.” Marta rolled her eyes. “Ugh, that loud, vulgar laugh.”
Jenna stood. “One of those guys is supposed to be my escort. I think I will go pay him a little visit.”
Lizbeth laughed. “You go on now honey. Put that vulgar woman in her place.”
Jenna saw the second that Brock registered her presence, and she watched the smile fading from his face as he inched away from Harper. She wanted to laugh at his expression. She was having fun putting him in the hot seat, and gave him a big smile as she approached.
“There you are,” Brock said. “Been looking for you everywhere.”
“Have you? I wasn’t looking for you, but I’m glad I found you. Got a minute to chat?”
Brock’s hand tightened around his wine glass. “Sure, sure, let’s go out on the balcony.”
“Sorry to interrupt here,” Jenna said to Harper and the two other men she didn’t know. “But I can send him back in a few minutes.”
Brock, looking a bit flushed and nervous, followed Jenna out to the balcony.
“Look, Brock, I think we know this trip has focused a spotlight on our relationship. You said yourself we needed to talk because you could feel the distance growing between us. You’re right. It’s been fun, and I do like you, but I think we are at different places in our life. Would you mind removing your things from my room tonight?”
Brock’s face turned red. “What—but I paid for the room.”
“Oh, dear, that’s right. Okay, I will find somewhere else to stay then. Fair is fair.” Jenna left him, standing openmouthed.
Brock rushed to catch up. “Jenna, please wait a minute. Listen, no need for all of this. Let’s finish this visit and talk back in the city as we discussed earlier. No need to hurry through something we might regret. You’ve been so emotional ever since we got here. What’s going on?”
“Really, Brock, it’s okay. I think now is the time to end it. Emotional or not, I know what I want. I will get my things out of the room.” Jenna turned to go, hoping he wouldn’t pursue her.