“I’m not surprised,” Ricco said. “She’s beautiful and … extraordinary. That smile of hers could stop a war. She has that face, Gee, the kind a man would spend a lifetime wanting to just stare at. I’m not even going to talk about her body because I’m not looking at her that way. I see her and know she belongs to you and the family. Someone to protect, but other men, they’re going to see her and want her. She’s got something intangible, a magic about her, and you’re going to have your hands full keeping the competition away. Think about that, because it’s going to be for the rest of your life.”
Giovanni knew every word Ricco said about Sasha was the truth. He’d felt the pull of her magic, that mixture of innocence and temptress, her smile, the one that his brother had referred to. He also knew that the assessment coming from Ricco, who loved his wife above all else, was true and stated as a fact rather than interest. Maybe even a warning.
“Let’s get her and find out if anything is missing,” Giovanni said. He didn’t like her out in the alley where she was exposed.
He should have known his brother would take care of things. Taviano had Sasha inside the deli. They stood just inside the back door, Taviano’s body blocking the entrance. He glanced up at the roof. Stefano stood there, lifted a hand and shook his head to indicate there was no one there. Emme and Vittorio paced along the alley, one on the left side and one on the right. They moved slowly, looking for any evidence of a person setting up traps or cameras or just leaving evidence behind.
Giovanni went straight to Sasha and wrapped an arm around her. “He’s gone, but he left you a note. I need you to go through the apartment and tell me if anything is missing, or if he’s disturbed anything. You’ll have to hurry, the police tend to show up fast if we’re involved.”
“Why?” She looked up at him as they walked toward the stairway. Giovanni wanted to step on the roses and crush them as he passed, but he was careful to step over them just in case the police needed them for evidence.
“They have the misguided belief that we’re criminals. Mafia. They’ve investigated us numerous times, but they always come up empty-handed.” He put his hand on her back as they went up the stairs.
Ricco was waiting at the top, and he stepped aside to allow her entry into her apartment. She hesitated, just for a second, just long enough that Giovanni noticed, and then she stepped inside and went straight over to the little table that held the photographs of her family.
“There’s something beyond terrifying to know someone’s invaded your personal, private space,” she said.
Her voice was pitched low, but he caught the slight wobble and wanted to smash something—or someone. She was being brave, but she was shaken. He watched as she looked all around and under the table where the photographs were.
“He took my brother’s key chain. He moved the photographs and the things I have here. Why would he take Sandlin’s key chain? It isn’t worth anything to him, or anyone but me.”
“What did it look like?” Giovanni followed her as she circled around the living space and kitchen.
“It was just a key chain with a picture of me in it. He took it when I was barrel racing and had won a championship.”
She suddenly broke off and ran across the room to the armchair. A book lay upside down on the cushion. Next to the chair was a small round side table. Two wineglasses sat out with a bottle of red wine. There was wine residue in each glass. On the side of one of the glasses was a small smear of pink lipstick.
“This isn’t mine. I mean, the glasses are, but not the wine and I didn’t drink anything with anyone. My book was sitting here on the table when I left. The book on the chair isn’t the one I was reading. I don’t know where mine is, but that’s not it. He staged this. He had to have, and I’m certain that’s my lipstick.”
Giovanni picked up the book, turning it over to the open pages. Text was highlighted and he skimmed it, his stomach tying in knots as he did. “It’s an erotica book. This has a very graphic passage between two lovers highlighted.”
Sasha pressed her fingers to her temples as if that might stop a headache. “What’s he trying to say?”
“I think he’s fantasizing that you’re in a relationship with him,” Giovanni said.
She turned her head to look at the bathroom door. “He was in there, too, wasn’t he?”
“You tell me.” Giovanni was certain he had been.
She took a deep breath and started to touch the door handle. He caught her shoulder to pull her back and opened the door with his gloved hand. “Just in case, honey. We don’t want to mess up any fingerprints.”
She nodded, and stepped inside, her gaze instantly drawn to the towels and then the little cabinet where her things sat. “He was definitely in here. Those towels aren’t mine. And I’m not that neat. I couldn’t get them on the rack like that.” She pushed back the shower curtain, made a face and stumbled back. “He was in here, too. I think he took a shower.” There were a few drops on the shower curtain, but the floor of the stall was damp. “He used my soap and shampoo. I’m never touching those things again. What’s wrong with him?”
Giovanni stepped up and caught her around the waist, pulling her back to him, wrapping his arms around her. “The cops will get him. What about anything else? Look carefully, Sasha.”
She studied the cabinet and then indicated the lipstick. “He used that on the wineglass rim. I keep it in the drawer along with the other makeup. He put that there. The perfume bottle, I’ve never seen before, nor do I use that particular scent. He had to have brought it.” She pressed back into him and turned her head to look up at him. “You don’t think he used my toothbrush, do you?”
Giovanni shrugged, trying for casual, but he was buying her a new toothbrush. The idea of her putting her mouth anywhere near where the intruder had put it sickened him.
“Cops are here, Gee,” Stefano announced.
Instead of two uniformed officers, two men in suits came through the door. Giovanni introduced Sasha to the two detectives, who he was very familiar with, and then indicated the scratch marks, pointed out the bouquet on the ground and where she’d found it. He circled Sasha’s shoulders with his arm and pulled her under his shoulder, keeping it there, letting the detectives know she was not only with him, but under his protection. His hovering family told them the rest.
“Stupid mistake on his part, messing with your family,” the one who had been introduced as Detective Jason Bradshaw said. His tone held all kinds of innuendo.
Giovanni didn’t rise to the bait. He let them question Sasha, realizing almost immediately they were falling under her spell. Even now, with everything going on, she managed a smile that made them look at her in a way that had him wanting to tear their heads off.
The detectives were thorough, he had to hand them that. Stefano always said the department’s detectives weren’t always the politest, but they definitely knew their jobs and didn’t jump to conclusions; they worked their cases and had a high arrest rate. He respected them, and Giovanni could see why. The two men might not like the Ferraros, or at the very least, suspected them of being a crime family, but they put aside any prejudices and photographed and documented everything. Their questions were polite but probing, leading Sasha to find a few other items that had been touched, moved, or had disappeared.
Her hairbrush was missing. Her mother’s silver hand mirror. The book she’d been reading was nowhere in the house. The other two wineglasses that made up her set were gone. She was trembling visibly by the time they entered the bedroom. It was the first time Sasha had been inside it, and she made a small sound that tore at his heart before turning her face against his ribs.
“I take it you didn’t leave your bed that way,” Bradshaw stated.
“No.” She cleared her throat and forced herself to look at them, but she gripped Giovanni’s suit vest so hard, her fingers curled into his skin. “But the clothes are mine.” She glanced at the dresser just under her window. “That drawer was closed when I left.”
The other detective, Art Maverick, walked over and peered inside. He turned his head, his eyes meeting Giovanni’s and then his partner’s.
“What is it?” Sasha asked.