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  “You think he was in on it?” Adam frowned and shook his head. “Ernesto is a stand-up guy. I don’t think he’d be part of something like that.”

  “I didn’t say he was.” Handel pushed back from the table and went to the refrigerator. “I said he knew Javier started the fire. It was the look on his face after Billie confronted him.”

  Handel set a pint of half & half in front of Adam along with the sugar bowl. Her brother’s taste in coffee leaned toward a hot milkshake. She poured him half a cup before the pot was completely brewed and brought it to the table. They watched him doctor it to within an inch of its life before he took a sip.

  “Your coffee is always so good,” he said, his eyes glinting with humor. He set his cup down and crossed his arms. “Do you think it’s possible this guy, Javier, knows Edoardo Salvatore?”

  “Why?”

  Instead of answering her question, he asked another one of his own. “Have you heard from Mom?”

  “No. But what does any of this have to do with the fire?”

  “That’s what I’ve been wondering all night.” He told them about the conversation with Sabrina. “From the text messages between him and this other guy, JT, it sounds like he’s been behind all of this.”

  “But why?” Handel asked, leaning back in his chair, a frown creasing his forehead. “I can see him causing trouble for Margaret, maybe trying to make it look like Davy isn’t safe with her, but why shoot at Billie and burn the winery shed?”

  “Maybe this isn’t just about getting custody of Davy. Maybe it’s about revenge.” Adam cleared his throat, looking slightly uncomfortable. “I didn’t say any of this to Margaret, but isn’t it possible that Salvatore wants payback on all of us?” He pointed at Handel, “Your father murdered his son.” He pointed at Billie. “Agosto was found dead in your winery dumpster.” He tapped a finger against his own chest. “And I’m the new guy in Margaret’s life, filling the empty space of a father in Davy’s life.”

  “That’s an interesting theory,” Handel said, sounding a little annoyed with her brother’s choice of words, “but Manny told us the word on the street is that someone put a hit out on Billie.”

  “A hit? Like in gangster movies? Why would anyone, other than Salvatore, want to do that?” Adam asked. He gulped the rest of his sweet coffee and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The boyish motion made Billie think of Davy and how much the two were alike. She couldn’t help smiling.

  “You’re her brother,” Handel said. “You can’t think of a good reason?”

  “Hey! I resent that.” Billie crossed her arms and leaned against the counter waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. “So who’s to say it isn’t Salvatore?” she asked. “I mean, he could very well have friends in low places. Didn’t you say the Las Boyz originated in Sicily?”

  Handel laced his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling as though light bulbs really did give off ideas. “Well, the two things we know for sure is that he’s behind the stuff at Margaret’s place and his henchman’s initials are JT. Does anyone know Javier’s last name?”

  Billie hadn’t even thought of that. She shook her head. “No, but I’m going to find out. As soon as I speak with Ernesto.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Adam was a little leery about letting Margaret drive the Corvette, but when she batted those eyelashes at him and leaned in to grab the keys from his hand, he let her have them. She gave him one of her blindingly beautiful smiles and he couldn’t think straight anyway. It was probably safer for her to drive, seeing as she was driving him crazy.

  He clicked his seatbelt and started to direct her on how to shift slowly out of first into second because it had a little jump in the gears, but she took off and was tearing down the highway like Danica Patrick before he could get the words out. He swallowed hard and gripped the edge of his seat. “So, where did you learn to drive like this?” he asked, watching vineyards flash by in a blur as she passed car after car and continued to gain speed.

  “I practiced at the track. A guy I knew in high school used to let me drive his Mustang. Then Handel had a Corvette when he was in college. Once I snuck out after he was asleep and took his car all the way to Reno.”

  “How far is that?” he asked, pressing his foot hard against the floor when she swerved into the oncoming lane to pass another car and pulled back in just in time to avoid being a hood ornament on a truck.

  “Oh, it’s about two hundred miles, but I made it there and back in under four hours,” she said proudly.

  “Please tell me you didn’t share that story with Davy.”

  “Are you kidding? Do I look stupid?” She flashed him another smile.

  “No,” he said, wishing she’d keep her eyes on the road. “But you sound crazy.”

  They made it to Antonio’s in record time. Adam opened the door and nearly fell to his knees to kiss the ground, but it was littered with cigarette butts from employees sneaking outside for smoke breaks and looked a little too unsanitary for his tastes.

  “Want me to wait outside while you talk to your other boyfriend?” he asked, leaning against the door of the car.

  “Don’t you want to say hi to Carl?” She pounded on the metal security door with her fist. “Sometimes they can’t hear over the noise in there,” she explained.

  He grinned. This girl surprised him on a daily basis. Just when he thought he knew her, she proved he’d only skimmed the surface. He looked forward to digging deeper, peeling back her layers and savoring each moment. Hopefully most of the moments wouldn’t be death-defying like that car ride. He hurried over and banged on the door with his fist as well.

  Carl threw open the door, an angry scowl on his face, “What the…” he broke off and threw his arms wide, “Ciao Bella! I didn’t expect you today.” Margaret was pulled into the man’s embrace while Adam watched – now with a scowl on his face.

  “Sorry,” she said pulling back. “I guess I should have called, but it was sort of an emergency. I didn’t have Dirk’s number and thought I’d just stop and talk to him,” she said, glancing over his shoulder. Carl frowned and she gave him a small flirty smile, “if it’s all right with you of course.”

  “Do you even have to ask? I can’t imagine what important emergency business you could have with my pitiful dishwasher,” he said, waving them past him into the kitchen, “but he’s all yours.”

  A skinny guy with stringy blonde hair tied back in a ponytail stood at the huge stainless steel sink washing pots. He glanced back and his face immediately flushed with color when he saw Margaret standing behind him. “Hey, Miss Parker.”

  “Hi, Dirk. Is it all right if I take you away from all this for a little bit?”

  Dirk glanced worriedly at Carl.

  “Go!” Carl barked, waving him away. “The sooner you fix Margaret’s emergency, the sooner you get back to work.”

  They went out the back door and when Dirk saw the Corvette he nearly blew the blood vessels in his eyes, they stretched so wide. “Hot damn! Did you trade that old pickup in for this baby?” he asked, moving slowly around it. “Guess you don’t need me to replace that belt now, huh?”

  “Actually, I need you to do more than that.” Margaret put a hand on his shoulder. “This is Adam’s car,” she said, nodding in his direction. “Sadly, I still have the pickup and a major problem.”

  He turned around, clearly excited. Apparently, fixing cars ran a close second to dating a babe who looked like Marilyn Monroe. “What is it? I can fix most any car. Just ask my dad. He’s a mechanic at the Texaco station. He taught me everything I know.”

  She smiled. “That’s what I need to hear.”

  They gave him directions to Margaret’s house and he said he would come in the morning before work. He was still gazing longingly at the Corvette, so Adam took pity on him and let him look under the hood and sit behind the wheel for a minute. Dirk held out his cell phone. “Would you mind taking a picture of me for my Facebook?” he asked, hopef
ully.

  “Of course he will,” Margaret said.

  Adam reluctantly took the phone and stepped back. Before he could get the car in frame, Margaret jumped in the passenger seat, and leaned in with her arm around Dirk until he flushed as red as the leather seats. Adam clicked the picture.

  He handed back the phone and Dirk slid out from behind the wheel. “That is an awesome car you got. Someday I’m going to buy me a Ferrari 458 Speciale. Carl said his uncle has one in Italy. Those things will fly like a bullet skimming the ground.”

  Margaret waved from inside the car. “See you tomorrow, Dirk!”

  He grinned huge and turned to go back inside. Before Adam could close the door of the car, he ran back and bent down with his hands on his thighs to peer inside at Margaret. “Miss Parker, would you mind if I bring JT with me? I’ve been teaching him to work on cars.”

  “JT?” they both said at the same time.

  Dirk looked from one to the other. “Yeah, you know. Juan Torres.” He waved a hand toward the restaurant. “He’s Carl’s sous chief. He makes a mean tortellini, but he still needs practice with stuff like replacing ignition coils or catalytic converters.”

  •••••

  It wasn’t nearly as hard as Sabrina imagined it would be to get off the island. She didn’t have to eat bugs, or swim in a lagoon until she was stung by a blowfish, or snipe at the other island inhabitants until they got sick of her and voted her off. She just had to bide her time.

  They spent the evening pleasantly enough, swimming, dancing and eating, just as Edoardo had promised. When the night sky darkened, the entertainment started, and they watched fire dancers spin flaming batons around their heads and bodies in perfect synchronization. It was getting late and she was getting sleepy. A little after one a.m., she turned to find her companion passed out in his chair beside her. Apparently, he’d been steadily drinking Blue Hawaiians the entire evening, with more rum than blue.

  Unsure what to do, she waved over a waiter and asked for help getting Mr. Salvatore to his room. Two burly Hawaiian bellhops managed to get him in a wheelchair and roll him to the elevator. After they tucked him in his bed, she found his phone in the pocket of his suit coat and used her own phone to capture pictures of the text messages he still had not deleted. She didn’t know if they would stand up in court, but they might be helpful to keep him off Margaret’s back. When she was done she emailed them all to Adam. Then she went into her room, locked the door and managed to sleep a full ten hours before she heard voices outside and the clink of dishes.

  She’d showered before climbing in bed, so she just washed her face, put on a bit of makeup and slipped into one of the cute sundresses Edoardo insisted on buying her after their swim the evening before.

  When she opened the door her host looked a tad unhappy. Still wearing a robe, he sat in an upholstered club chair by the bar reading a newspaper. He lifted his coffee cup, peering at her over the rim. “I must say I’m disappointed that you are already dressed for the day. Although, you look stunning as usual.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Room service had already brought breakfast. She could smell eggs and sausage and pancakes beneath silver warming lids on a food cart by the bar. A pot of coffee and another cup and saucer were also available. She poured a cup.

  “This has been a most enlightening trip, Edoardo.” She filled a plate with scrambled eggs and sausage. Looked beneath another lid and found toast. Added a slice of that to her plate. “And so refreshing. I feel like a new woman,” she said.

  He folded the newspaper and put it aside. Straightened in his chair. “Oahu is a special place. It always invigorates me to be here even for a short time,” he said, letting his eyes travel down the length of her legs. There was no mention of the way the evening had ended, with him passed out cold at the luau. Perhaps that was his version of invigoration. “We can stay as long as you’d like, you know. I have no pressing business in San Francisco that I can’t take care of right here in this room.”

  She fully understood what he was saying and sat on a bar stool out of his reach to eat her breakfast. “I do need to get back. I haven’t spent much time with my kids and there are things to attend to in Minnesota as well.”

  “That’s too bad. We haven’t really gotten to know one another as well as I would like,” he said. He got up and came to lean over her shoulder at the bar, his breath hot on the side of her neck, his voice low and seductive in her ear, “Perhaps we should spend what’s left of our stay making up for that oversight.” He lifted a lock of her hair and kissed her neck.

  What would have sent a tingle down her spine a day ago, now left her cold inside. The man was repulsive and she couldn’t wait to be out of his company. But she couldn’t let him know that. Not yet. She was beholden to him for the ride home and hoped to keep it civil.

  She stuffed a mouthful of eggs in and turned to smile up at him.

  He straightened, a frown of annoyance turning his lips down. Perhaps no one had ever chose eggs over him before. “I’ll let you finish your breakfast first,” he said generously and went back to his chair.

  Sabrina ate slowly to make her reprieve last as long as possible. She glanced back when she heard a text come in on his phone and watched him pick it up from the small lamp table beside him. His face went red with anger and he bit out the words, “Lo demonizzano tutti all'inferno!” She had no idea what he said but it sounded bad.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked.

  “No, everything is not all right.” He jumped up and strode toward his room, his open robe flapping against his legs. “Be ready to leave in twenty minutes!” he bellowed before slamming the bedroom door behind him.

  “I’ll be ready in ten,” she said, placed a sausage patty on a slice of toast, scooped some eggs on top, folded it over and took a big unsexy bite.

  •••••

  Margaret, Adam, and Carl sat around the intimate dining table, a bottle of wine and plate of bruschetta before them, but no one felt like eating. After Dirk told them who JT was, they confronted him in the kitchen and he lit out of the restaurant like a dozen ICE agents were on his tail. Adam ran after him, tackled him in the strip of grass between parking lots and hauled his butt back to the kitchen. Margaret had already called the police.

  Carl had not taken the news well. Finding himself in the middle between his uncle and a close friend, he looked like he might cry. But when he confronted Juan, his face turned hard and angry. He learned that his uncle had paid his sous chef five thousand dollars to set Margaret’s shed on fire, drive over her vines, and mess with her pickup. He fired him on the spot, and yanked the white chef’s coat off him before the police showed up and took him away.

  Margaret looked across at her brother’s best friend, afraid that family ties may have forever destroyed their close friendship. She sighed, letting her finger follow the rim of her wine glass around and around.

  “I’m sorry it’s come to this,” she said, her voice soft. “Handel and I have always treasured your friendship. We would never want anything to come between us, but I can’t let your uncle get away with this. He tried to physically harm me and my son.”

  “He would never harm Davy,” Carl argued weakly. “I know he is a desperate man to have gone so far, but he has suffered since Agosto’s death.” He spread his hands on the tablecloth. “He tries to hide it, but he is a broken man. My mother tells me that he drinks more than he eats and rarely ends a day without passing out. His business partners have begged him to retire, but he doesn’t know how to not work.”

  “Well, that’s that then,” Adam said. “We certainly wouldn’t want to give him more pain. Even if he did pay one of your employees an exorbitant amount of money to sabotage Meg’s pickup and send her careening off the road to her death.”

  Margaret put a calming hand on his arm. “Adam,” she said, a soft reprimand. “It’s not Carl’s fault. He would never have allowed any of this to happen if he’d known.”
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  “Of course not!” Carl shoved his chair back and stood up, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry for everything. I swear my uncle will return to Italia and never bother you again. You have my word.”

  Margaret had already sent a message to Edoardo earlier telling him exactly that. Go home and never bother us again. She informed him about their chat with JT and said if he didn’t want to spend an extended amount of time in an American jail, he should bring Sabrina home and leave the country. There was no response from him, but an hour later Sabrina texted Adam to say they were leaving Oahu and would be home within hours.

  “I believe you, Carl. And I don’t think your uncle wants any publicity so I’m sure he’ll capitulate without too much trouble.”

  “Does Handel know?” he asked, his dark brows drawn tight across the bridge of his nose.

  “Not yet.” She smiled up at him. “I know Handel. He’s not going to blame you for any of this. You two have always been like brothers. There’s no reason that has to change,” she said, hoping that were true.

  “I should never have listened to my uncle. He tried to turn me against…” he stopped and closed his eyes, shook his head. “He is a sick man. I understand that. But I will inform my family in Italia of what he has done and there will be repercussions for him. Believe me.”

  •••••

  Billie spotted Ernesto and Javier crouched down in a row of Riesling, examining some low hanging clusters. Ernesto was instructing the young man, speaking Spanish so quickly she had no idea what he was saying. They obviously didn’t hear her approach because they both jumped up, startled.

  “I’m been looking for you two,” she said, trying to appear non-confrontational even though that’s exactly what she planned, to confront Javier about the fire – and other things. “Could you guys come to the conference room with me? I ordered a pizza for lunch. It should be there by now.” She pooched out her bottom lip and blew a stream of air up through her bangs. “This heat is killing me.”