Mediterranean Men & Marriage: The Italian's Forgotten Baby / The Sicilian's Bride / Hired: The Italian's Bride. Raye MorganЧитать онлайн книгу.
a little wild about it. “I’ll help you, but not like this.”
His frown was suspicious. “How, then?”
She almost had to laugh at his resistance. He looked like a boy threatened with an extra school day.
“Believe it or not, I’ve got a trick or two of my own up my sleeve,” she told him. “Give me a minute to see if this works.”
Running back to the scooter, she pulled her purse out of the saddlebag and dug for a credit card, then went toward the front door of the store. A car went past slowly and she paused in the shadows, trying not to look guilty and not succeeding very well. But the car didn’t stop. Meanwhile, Marco was unimpressed.
“The old credit card in the door lock trick?” he scoffed. “That went out with high button shoes. Modern locks are made to resist that one.”
She waved the card at him. “Modern locks, sure. But you forget. We’re on island time now. ‘Modern’ is a concept, not a reality here.”
He shrugged. “Even if you get the main lock, surely there will be bolts inside.”
“Marco, the thing you don’t understand,” she said as she set up to try her idea, “is that there is virtually no crime on Ranai. So no one takes all those extra precautions you need to take in the city. We just don’t need to.”
She tried the credit card against the edge of the door, then used it to pry a little.
He grunted, looking over her shoulder with growing interest. “So where did you learn how to do this, anyway?”
She gave him an arch smile. “I went to boarding school. We always needed someone to let in the girls who got back late at night.” She set the card just right and wiggled it a little. There was a click and the door swung open. She beamed at him. “Voilà,” she said with a flourish.
He grinned his admiration for her lock-picking abilities, then walked right past her into the store. “Good work,” he said shortly, seeming to forget all his dire warnings. “Now let’s find that licorice.”
Luckily there was a big box of the whips right by the cash register. Marco picked three, looked at the price, pulled coins out of his pocket and slapped them down on the counter.
“There we go,” he said, then hesitated. “I’d better write the store owner a note. Got a pen?” He grinned. “Or better yet, got a lipstick on you?”
She rolled her eyes. “What do you think I am, some kind of gun moll?”
“That was the part you were playacting last night, wasn’t it?”
She held up a finger. “Note the operative word—playacting.”
“Okay. I guess I’m going to have to steal a pen, as well.”
“Wait a minute,” she said, caught by the ridiculousness of it all. “You’re going to steal a pen so you can write the man you’re stealing from a note? Don’t you think that’s overdoing it a bit?”
He frowned, thinking it over. “It does seem a bit convoluted, doesn’t it?”
“Well, never mind. Here’s a pen.” She produced it out of her purse, along with a tiny notepad of violetcolored paper. “But hurry. We really don’t want anyone finding us here.”
He hurried. The note was apologetic. He even signed his name. In minutes they were back on the scooter, racing toward home and Eddie next door.
The house looked quiet, but lights were on. Shayna and Marco approached the front door with trepidation. Jilly pulled it open right after their knock.
“Hi, Mr. Marco,” she said brightly.
“Hi, Jilly.” He shifted his weight, feeling awkward. “Is Eddie home?”
Jilly looked surprised. “He went to bed already.”
“Oh.” More shifting of weight. Shayna gave him a little shove from behind and he grunted. “I…uh…I brought him the licorice I promised.”
“Oh. Great.” She smiled. “But he already brushed his teeth.”
Shayna smiled at her. “Wow, Jilly, you’re such a good babysitter. You take good care of the little ones. You’ve already got them all to bed and everything. Your mom is lucky.”
Jilly looked pleased. “I’m trying to help her.”
A movement caught Shayna’s eye, and there was Eddie peeking around the corner. She poked Marco again and gestured in Eddie’s direction with her head.
“Eddie!” Jilly cried in dismay.
“Oh, Jilly,” Shayna said quickly. “I know it’s not fair to put you in this position, but Marco promised him red licorice and he promised he would bring it tonight. Would it be okay if he just gave him the candy and Eddie could save it for tomorrow?”
Jilly looked from Eddie, to Shayna, to Marco and back to Eddie. She shrugged. “Sure,” she said sunnily. “Okay, Eddie, come on out.”
Marco grinned at him and he came out, hesitated a moment, then ran to Marco, who enveloped him in a big bear hug.
“Hi, Eddie,” he said, holding the little boy close. “I told you I’d bring you some red licorice, didn’t I? Here it is. You’d better not eat it until tomorrow, okay?”
He nodded, taking the long red whips, his dark eyes shining.
“Okay, kiddo. See you tomorrow. You be good for Jilly, okay?”
Eddie nodded again, and Shayna and Marco gave Jilly a wave and, in Marco’s case, a wink, and they left the little house.
“You know, it really feels good to do the right thing, doesn’t it?” Marco said, his chest puffed out as they made their way back to the scooter.
“Absolutely,” she responded, hiding her grin.
She drove him back toward his hotel. As they turned the corner toward the two-story building, she jammed on the brakes.
“Hey,” he cried.
“Look at that,” she said, pointing toward the parking lot.
“Uh-oh.” He looked. Two black-and-white cars were parked along the side, their lights swirling. “Looks like the cops are here.”
“Oh, goodness,” Shayna agreed. “Both cars. This must be something serious.”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Like, breaking into the general store, maybe?”
She gasped. “Oh, gosh.” She put a hand to her mouth and her eyes got very wide. “Do you think…?”
He nodded. “Yup.” He groaned. “I probably shouldn’t have signed that note.”
She turned and stared at him. “What shall we do?”
He shrugged. “I could walk in and give myself up.”
“Or?”
“Or go home with you and wait until tomorrow.”
“They might check my place.”
“You think so?”
She thought it over. “Not tonight,” she said, shaking her head. “Their investigations tend to last a long, long time, because they get to do so few of them. So they savor the moment, so to speak. I bet they won’t come out until tomorrow.”
“Well, then…”
“Oh, why not just go on in there and tell them what happened? Get it over with. Sheriff Joe’s a good guy. I could explain to him. I’m sure he’d understand.”
Marco considered that for a moment, his head to the side and his eyes narrowed. “If you were the one on the hot seat, I have no doubt he’d listen to reason.