They echoed her good-night. She left the door open on her way out.
Ren tugged Merrie closer to him. “Go to sleep,” he said softly. “When you finish the painting, we’ll decide on wedding dates and places and rings and things.”
“Okay.” She snuggled closer. “I’ve never been so happy in my life.”
“Neither have I, honey,” he whispered, wrapping her up against him. “Neither have I.”
*
THE NEXT MORNING, Merrie set to work in her studio. Tony Garza was a fascinating subject to draw. His face was like a stone carving, all chiseled features. He looked like a statue that Michelangelo might have sculpted.
She mentioned it to Tony and he chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, adding a line to the sketch she was making as a preliminary to the painting.
“Michelangelo was one of my ancestors, so the story goes,” he told her.
“Wow!” She laughed. “I’m impressed.”
He glanced at her without moving his head. “That painting you did of Mikey. Did your brother-in-law tell you what Mikey did for a living?”
“No. He just gave me the photos and asked me to do a painting. I added the details myself.”
“How did you know? I mean, the knife on the table, the red curtain, the darkness behind him...really profound.”
She smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know. I just...sort of see inside people, to what they really are. Mikey was hard, because I don’t usually work from photos.”
Tony cocked his head. “How are you going to paint me?” he asked. “What sort of background?”
“I don’t know yet,” she told him honestly. “I start working, and it just...comes out on the canvas.”
“Well,” he replied with a faint smile, “I guess we’ll both learn something when the time comes.”
She smiled. She was wondering about the result herself.
*
SUPPER WAS RIOTOUS. The Avengers, Paul, Mikey, Tony Garza, his two bodyguards and a tall, good-looking man who came home with Paul but wasn’t introduced all sat down at the table. Mandy was laughing to herself as she laid the table with edible goodies. The star dish was, of course, lasagna.
“This is just like my mother used to make,” Tony exclaimed when he tasted it. “Woman, you should open a restaurant!”
“Can’t.” Mandy sighed. “The girls would starve. Besides, Barbara, who owns Barbara’s Café in town, makes it even better.”
“It’s delicious, Mandy,” Merrie said.
The others agreed with Merrie and Tony.
Paul looked around him and shook his head. “My God, aren’t we a crazy group? It’s like an episode of Law and Order,” he mused.
“I got a cousin who guest-starred in an episode,” Tony volunteered. “He played a cop.” He made a face at Paul. “We disowned him.”
Paul chuckled. “I know how that goes,” he murmured.
“Yeah, you turncoat,” Tony joked.
“I’m not so bad,” Paul defended himself. “I attract beautiful women.” He leaned over to kiss his wife.
“No, honey,” Sari protested, “I attract gorgeous men. I mean,” she added, “just look around this room!”
All the men chuckled. Even the mystery man who’d come in with Paul.
“Are we allowed to ask whose side he’s on?” Merrie piped up, indicating the tall, handsome man sitting next to Paul at the table.
Everybody looked at him. Tony Garza pursed his lips. “Well, he ain’t FBI, I can tell you that,” Tony said and went back to his lasagna.
“How do you know?” Paul asked, surprised.
“Because I’ve been investigated by most of them over the past twenty years.” Tony chuckled. “I never forget a face.”
“Is he right?” Merrie asked the stranger.
The man, who was tall, with dark, thick black hair and dark eyes, grinned at them. “I’m not FBI,” the man said in an amused voice, almost as deep as Tony’s. “But I do wear a white hat.”
Ren just laughed. “I could tell you who he is, but I won’t.”
“How would you know?” the unidentified man asked.
“Your cousin is a friend of mine. He’s the sheriff up in Catelow.” He chuckled. “His last name is Banks. His cousin who lives in San Antonio is named Colter.”
“Busted.” Banks laughed out loud.
“Yeah, he’s from the misfit agency.”
“I’m a Texas Ranger,” Banks replied. “But I’m off duty. And I’m here because I wanted to meet your houseguest.”
Now they were all staring at Banks. Even Tony Garza.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“YOU WANTED TO meet me?” Tony asked Banks, because the man was staring at him. “Why?”
“You saved the life of a friend of mine, a couple of years back,” Banks replied. “He was in on a bust in Jersey, a big one, involving organized crime. One of the perps had him dead to rights, on the floor with a .45 aimed right between his eyes. You stopped the man from shooting.”
Tony frowned. Then he nodded. “Yeah, I remember. The guy with the .45 was one of mine.” He smiled sheepishly. “I know what happens when you pop a cap on a Fed,” he added. “Not good for business.”