Читать книгу Mob Mistress - Sheri WhiteFeather, Sheri WhiteFeather - Страница 7

Justin sat on his parents’ porch. The red-and-white farmhouse was as familiar as the beat of his heart. Bluebonnets bloomed every spring, and a live oak in the front yard clawed its way to the sky.

But it gave him no peace.

He’d grown up at Elk Ridge Ranch: the five-star guest lodge, the rustic rental cabins, the grassy slopes, the limestone caves. His own house, a log dwelling in the hills, was his sanctuary.

Or so he’d thought. Today he felt disconnected from everything, even the loving, caring people who’d raised him.

He turned to look at his dad. At fifty-five Michael Elk was strong and well built. Although his hair was streaked with gray and had thinned a bit over the years, he still wore it long and banded into a ponytail, the way a lot of older Indians did.

Justin had expected to age just like him, to get sun-burnished lines at the corners of his eyes, to see a recognizable image in the mirror. But how was that possible? They weren’t related, not by blood.

He studied his mom next. Heather Elk. He remembered when she was pregnant with his sister. He’d touched her tummy and asked her if he’d lived inside of her, too. And she’d scooped him up and told him that he had. He’d cuddled in her arms, thinking she was the most beautiful mommy on earth, with her princess-in-the-tower hair and crayon-blue eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking.

“For what? Lying to me?” Justin was supposed to be part white because of her. But it was Beverly who’d given him his Anglo roots. And Reed who made him part Indian. His mom’s half brother was half-Cherokee. “How’d you fake my birth certificate?”

A strand of white-blond hair fluttered across her cheek. “It’s a legitimate document, but it was filed ten months after you were born.”

With phony information, he thought. “When I was a kid, you told me that the photo album with my early baby pictures had been lost. But that was a lie, too. There are no pictures. You couldn’t snap them while you were on the run.”

“No, we couldn’t,” she responded simply.

He pressed her, wanting answers, wanting to know about the other child. “Did your real son have a name? Did you give him one before you buried him?”

“You are our real son, Justin. We love you more than any parent could love a child.” She shifted in her chair, fought the tears in her eyes. “But no, I didn’t name him. Reed said we should name our children the Cherokee way, to wait until we saw them, until they were born. Reed delivered both babies. We couldn’t go to a hospital. We couldn’t take that chance.” She paused, still fighting tears. “You were born first. About a week later, I went into labor, but the child in my womb was stillborn. The umbilical cord got…”

Her words faded, and Justin glanced up at the sky. Soon the sun would be setting, melding into the clouds, getting darker, preparing for the coffinlike closure of night. He wanted to console his mom, to ease her pain, but his own hurt and anger blocked the way.

“I took you and your dad to the place he was buried,” she said suddenly. “After Reed went into WITSEC, after Beverly died. I took both of you there.”

He tried to envision the unmarked grave, but being switched with a dead baby only gave him a chill. “Why?”

“Because I needed to see where he was laid to rest,” his dad interjected. “And we wanted to tell you about him. You were too young to understand, only about a year old, but it mattered to us.”

“We told you that he had a pony just like yours,” Mom added. “That mattered, too.”

“The toy that Denny Halloway read about,” Justin said.

Dad made a tight face. “Denny was a snake. I’m sure he still is.”

“Yeah, but you should have told me the truth. Not when I was a baby, but when I was old enough to understand. I should have been given some sort of choice.”

“To do what? Meet Beverly’s family?” His mom exhaled a shaky breath. “They would have fought for custody. And with their power and law-bending privilege, they probably would have bribed a corrupt judge and won.”

“They got me now, didn’t they? They came into my life just the same.”

“By kidnapping you?” Dad’s voice turned hard. “I could kill them for that.”

“They didn’t hurt me.” He wasn’t sure why he was making excuses for his abductors. All he knew was that his world had been turned inside out and that his parents’ lie had triggered it.

Mom’s eyes filled up again. “I promised Beverly and Reed that I would keep their secret. They loved you. And they loved each other. They would have raised you if they could.”

Justin scowled, repeating what Brian had said. “Reed could’ve taken me into WITSEC with him. He didn’t have to give me up.”

“The FBI didn’t offer Reed a deal until after I brought Beverly home to die, until after she told the Halloways that you were mine. How would we have explained my son going into witness protection with my brother? The Halloways would have figured out the truth.”

“Couldn’t the government have faked my death or something? Then whisked me off to be with Reed?”

“I suppose they could have. But Reed never told the government that you were his son. He wanted you to stay with us. To have a normal childhood.”

No, Justin thought. Reed was trying to make things easier for himself. “Have you heard from him since he went into witness protection? Is he allowed to keep in touch?”

“WITSEC permits government-screened phone calls and letters, but Reed asked his field inspector to contact us instead. About a year after he testified against Denny, we were told that Reed was doing well. That he met a nice girl and got married.”

Well, bully for him. “Does he have other kids?”

“I don’t know. We only heard from his inspector that one time. I think Reed needed to sever those ties, to convince himself that he was doing the right thing. I can’t tell you how many times he cried about letting you go.”

Yeah, right. The grieving father. “Brian says you’re naive, Mom. That you trusted Reed too much.”

“Brian? You mean Denny’s son? They had a hit out on my brother. They still do. If they didn’t, Reed would be able to come home.”

“After all this time? What’s the point? He has a new name, a new life. He isn’t your brother anymore.”

“He’ll always be family. Always,” she reiterated.

Not to me, Justin thought.

“Don’t go back to California,” his mom implored, as if she’d read his mind. “Please. Don’t go back.”

“I have to.”

“For the girl who came to your room?”

He nodded. He’d told his parents about his angel, but he hadn’t told them that he suspected a maid. That the more he thought about it, the more he knew she was the one. She’d reacted too strongly to him being a Halloway. She’d given herself away, and the next time he saw her, he was going to press her even further.

“Why can’t you call the police?” his mom asked. “Why can’t you let them help her?”

“She doesn’t want to call the cops. She suspects the Halloways of something, but she doesn’t have any proof.”

Mom refused to back down. “Anything that involves them is dangerous. You know it is.”

Yes, he knew, but he responded with a stupid comment. “Brian says the Hollywood Mob doesn’t exist anymore.”

Both of his parents gave him an incredulous look.

“Other crime families have disbanded. So why not them?” He defended the Halloways, and this time he knew why. He didn’t want to admit that his genes were so horribly tainted. That the mobsters who wanted to embrace him so badly were making Maya afraid.

His dad scooted forward. “Don’t fall into their trap. Don’t let them lure you into all that phony glamour. Don’t do what Reed did.”

“I’m not like Reed,” Justin snapped, resenting the comparison.

“Then help the girl who needs you and come home.”

Home? At this point, he didn’t even know what the word meant. But worse yet was his dilemma with Maya.

And how he was going to help her without getting caught.

Justin was back. Maya hadn’t seen him, but she’d heard that he’d returned last night.

The mansion buzzed with activity. Today the staff was preparing for a poolside gathering. A family-and-close-friends event: casual food and games for the children, sushi, sashimi and sake for the adults.

Maya still had Justin’s puppy. He followed her around the state-of-the-art, chrome-and-glass kitchen, sniffing for tidbits. Lucifer hadn’t uttered a word. But what could the chef say? Lester was Justin’s pet, and Justin was the Halloway golden boy. By now, everyone in the house had been informed that he was Beverly’s secret son.

And this was his coming-out party, Maya thought, his first soiree with his new family.

Suddenly Brian’s girlfriend swept into the room. Dressed for the festivities in a designer swimsuit and a matching cover-up, she flaunted her outfit. Her sandals sparkled with glass beads and gold braid.

Like Lucifer, she’d been christened behind her back. Her name was Tori Temple, but the maids called her Tori Tell All because she talked out of turn, telling them things she shouldn’t. She wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier, but she had legs like a Victoria’s Secret model and hair like Lady Godiva.

She’d been one of many mistresses who’d broken up Brian’s marriage. His wife had gotten tired of his philandering ways and had filed for divorce, taking a hefty chunk of change with her.

But before the ink on the financial settlement had dried, Tori Tell All had maneuvered her way into the mansion, traipsing around like the blow-up doll she was.

Not that Brian was faithful to her. According to rumor, he still kept his other bimbos on the side. The Halloway men didn’t know the meaning of commitment.

Tori snagged a seafood-stuffed norimaki off a platter and bit into it. Lucifer’s expression didn’t falter, but he was probably cringing inside. Rice trickled onto the floor, breaking free of the seaweed wrap.

The leggy blonde finished the sushi roll. “I just love these.” She looked at Maya. “Don’t you?”

“They’re the chef’s specialty,” Maya responded, as the puppy in her care lapped up the loose rice.

Tori reached down to pat his head, exposing her cosmetically enhanced cleavage. “Brian told me to invite some girls for Justin. You know, so he could take his pick.”

Something akin to jealousy reared its ugly head, but Maya didn’t react, not visibly.

Brian’s mistress kept blabbing. “A blonde, a brunette and a redhead.” She went after another norimaki. “We aren’t sure what type he likes best.”

Another maid shot Maya a “be careful” look. Whenever Tell All talked too much, they got in trouble for gossiping, even if they hadn’t said a thing.

“I hope this doesn’t make me seem like Heidi Fleiss.” Tori made a face. “They’re starlets, not hookers.” She finished the sushi, dropping more rice for the puppy to lap up. “I met Justin this morning. He’s handsome, don’t you think? Dark and sexy.”

Maya wasn’t about to respond.

“Oh!” The blonde yipped. “Speak of the Texan. There he is.”

Yes, there he was, entering the kitchen. But as dark and sexy as he was, he didn’t look like a Texan today. Like Tori, he was dressed for the party. He wore surfer-style swim trunks.

Maya tried not to notice his body: his chest, his stomach, the athletic way in which he moved.

He walked up to her. “I’m here to collect my dog.”

She merely nodded. Tori watched them with blatant interest.

“Was he good?” Justin asked.

“Yes, he—” Maya stammered.

“He what?”

“Nothing,” she said. Lester had slept in her bed, curling into a furry ball, keeping her warm at night.

“Will you get him for me?”

“Yes, of course.” The dog wasn’t paying them any mind. He was too busy sniffing the floor, scouting morsels he might have missed.

She reached for Lester, wondering what Justin was up to. He could have managed the dog far better than she could. The big, overgrown puppy was a cumbersome bundle.

Was Justin playing his lord of the manor role? Making a maid do his bidding? Or was—

Maya froze. He moved in close, too close, to transfer the dog into his arms. When he brushed his lips against her ear, she went woozy.

“Tell me you’re her,” he whispered, keeping his words so soft, so low, even Maya barely heard. “Tell me.”

Dear God.

She could see the just-do-it frustration in his eyes. But she saw something else, too. Heat. Hunger. The peril of desire.

Struggling for composure, she backed away from him, from the heart-palpitating intimacy. For what seemed like a long, drawn-out moment, their gazes locked.

No one said anything. A pin could have dropped. Finally he shifted the squirming puppy, and she glanced away.

“You like brunettes,” Tori blurted.

Justin blinked, turned, addressed her. “What?”

“They’re your favorite.”

“That’s right, they are,” he admitted, looking directly at Maya before he left the kitchen.

She went to the sink to wash her trembling hands, and Lucifer raised his demonic eyebrows at her, scolding her in silence. If he only knew.

Tori ignored them and flitted out of the room. To invite more brunettes to the party, Maya thought. To amuse Justin. To give him a smorgasbord of what he liked best.

Women who resembled the dark-haired maid.

The backyard offered an Olympic size pool, a rain forest waterfall, a barbecue island and an oasis of palm trees.

Justin sat on a chaise lounge with a plate of Japanese delicacies and a cup of sake by his side.

The experience was surreal. Kids, ranging from toddlers to teens, played in the sun, and gorgeous girls in eye-popping bikinis showed off their tans.

The bevy of brunettes, he’d learned, was for him.

Not that he was interested. He kept looking for Maya, watching the buffet table, waiting for her to replenish it.

A shadow crossed in front of him. “Are you having a good time?”

He squinted at the sun-hazed figure and realized it was Richard Halloway, his other uncle. He’d met Richard briefly last night when the other man had returned from his business trip.

Richard didn’t seem like a mobster. He wasn’t trim and tailored like Brian nor was he tough and terse like Leo. With his thinning brown hair, wire-framed glasses and slight paunch, he came off as a regular fifty-something guy.

He sat beside Justin and put his drink on a tiki-style table. “So are you?”

“Enjoying myself? Sure, why not?”

“You haven’t paid the least bit of attention to the girls Tori invited.”

Justin reached for a piece of salmon and sucked it down. He’d gotten used to the raw fish thing at the ranch. His sister was Elk Ridge’s assistant chef, and she’d encouraged him to expand his country-boy palate. “I prefer my women with a little more brain power.”

Richard laughed. “So do I. Tori’s friends are as dumb as she is. Beautiful, but as dense as dolled-up doornails.”

“What does Brian see in Tori?” Justin asked, shooting the six-foot blonde a curious glance. She was playing Marco Polo with the kids.

“Empty-headed women amuse him.” Richard leaned in close. “They create less pressure than the smarter variety.”

“I’ll still take the smart ones.”

“Me, too. Not that I’ve had much luck. I’ve been married and divorced three times.” The other man adjusted his glasses. “I heard you were engaged once.”

Justin tried not to frown. “Is there anything this family doesn’t know about me?”

“We don’t know what’s inside your soul.”

Neither do I, he thought. His emotions were still a mess. “You’re different from Brian.”

“Easier to talk to?”

And easier to like. Justin didn’t want to bond with Richard, but the younger Halloway brother had a way about him. “Is it true that the Hollywood Mob doesn’t exist anymore?” he asked, pushing the issue.

“Yes, it is. And the change has been good for me. I was never cut out for that lifestyle. Dad forced it on us. Not all mob bosses do that to their sons. In fact, most prefer to keep their kids out of it.” Richard sipped his sake. “But not our old man.”

“Why did Brian give it up?”

“Because I got shot and almost died, and he got scared. We’ve lost a lot of people we’ve loved over the years, and Brian couldn’t take losing me, too. He’s more sensitive than he seems.” Richard paused. “It was one of those defining moments. When I recovered he just looked at me and said, ‘I can’t do this anymore.’ I knew exactly what he meant. It was over for me, too.”

Justin wanted to believe his uncle’s story. But Maya sneaking into his room told another tale. And so did his mom’s fragile concern. “Is the hit still active on Reed?”

Richard blew out a labored breath. “Dad won’t let it go. He’s still got connections from prison.”

“I don’t think I’m going to like my grandfather.”

“He wants to meet you. I know this sounds crazy, but he loves you already. Just being Beverly’s boy makes you special. More important than any of us.”

Justin angled his head. Had he detected a note of envy? Of rivalry? Or was it pain? “Do you still love him? Even after he forced a violent lifestyle on you?”

“I try.” Richard glanced away.

A gap of silence yawned between them.

Then Justin turned and spotted Maya adding more food to the buffet. In the sun, her tightly woven hair glistened with auburn highlights. He wanted to see it loose and free, the way it had been when she’d become his angel.

Damn it. Why hadn’t she let down her guard and admited who she was? Why hadn’t she whispered it in his ear? No, instead she’d just stood there, staring at him, making his blood rush to his groin. He’d never been this challenged by a woman before.

Richard noticed her, too. “Maya the maid,” he mused. “Sleek, sexy, off limits.” He gave Justin a serious look. “Do you always want what you can’t have?”

“Not before I met her.” He needed to find a way to get past this, to be able to talk to Maya out in the open, to earn her trust. “Why can’t I have her? What’s the big deal?”

“If we get too close to our staff, if we encourage affairs with maids or become bosom buddies with our chauffeurs, we’ll invite the wrong kind of employees. We don’t want a bunch of groupies or wannabe mobsters working for us. We’ve always had to be careful not to blur those lines.”

“Why does it matter, if you’re not involved in organized crime anymore?”

“We’re still rich and famous. And we’ll always be notorious. The Hollywood Mob will never go away. Not to the media, not to the FBI, not to anyone who doesn’t believe that we’ve gone straight.”

“I still want her.” Justin wasn’t giving up on Maya. No way, no how.

Richard chuckled. “You’re a Halloway, all right.” He shook his head, sighed. “You’ll have to convince Brian to let you have her. He runs this house. He’s the boss, and I’m the underboss. That part hasn’t changed.”

“Then I’ll talk to Brian when this party is over. I’ll do what I have to do.” To be alone with Maya, he thought. To keep his promise.

And keep her safe.

Maya knew she was in trouble. You didn’t get called into the boss’s office unless you’d done something to displease him.

She headed down the corridor, her sensible shoes squeaking on the black-and-white tiled floor. Mr.B.’s king-of-the-castle lair, with its mahogany furniture and custom-built aquarium, was in the east wing of the house.

Maya knocked, and Brian told her to come in and close the door. She stepped forward. The boss sat behind his massive desk with a holier-than-thou expression. Like Sister Frances, the principal of the Catholic school she’d attended.

Feeling like a knobby-kneed kid, Maya kept her hands at her sides. Sister used to scold her when she fidgeted.

Brian didn’t offer her a seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of tropical fish.

And then she saw Justin. He stood near the corner of the aquarium. He’d shoved on a pair of threadbare jeans over his swim trucks, leaving the top button undone. His hair, disheveled from diving into the pool, lent him a bad-boy quality.

Rich and spoiled looked good on him. Too good, she thought, scowling in her mind.

Brian finally told her to sit, which she did, taking a chair near his desk. Justin stayed close to the aquarium, enhancing the marine beauty.

“My nephew spoke to me about you,” Brian said.

Maya glanced at Justin, but he didn’t react, other than to smooth his hair. The ends were still damp.