Mr. and Mrs. Rossi - Chapter #7 - Free To Read

Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

“Who is upstairs, Hannah?”

Harley’s heart sank with disappointment with the idea of Hannah lying to her. “Hannah.”

“Okay fine, Javier is up there.”

“What?” Now, for a split second Harley’s guilt tried to make its way through her veins. Wasn’t she the one who took Hannah to get on the pill? Had her actions caused Hannah to think it was okay to sneak a boy into the house? “Why is he here? Are the two of you? In my house?”

“No. It’s not what you think,” Hannah wailed as her golden brown face reddened. “I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was sneaking him in the house. He and his brother got into some trouble last night.”

Harley held her hand in the air to stop her, “I thought you two were together last night.”

“Javier dropped me off and then went to take his brother home and something happened.”

“What something?”

“Mmm,” Hannah shrugged her shoulders up and down, “He won’t talk about it but he’s freaking out upstairs. He couldn’t stop crying so I gave him some of your anxiety pills to help him calm down.”

Harley’s eyes darted toward the ceiling. The heat of embarrassment crept over her cheeks. The last thing she wanted to do was come off as weak. On rare occasions she’d get panic attacks, typically, like every woman over thirty with no marital prospects. A comforting stroke on her back from her mother would have sufficed, but Harley didn’t have that, so she learned to harden her heart and kept telling herself she preferred to live her life stress free these days with as less involvement from committed relationships as possible.

The pills worked once for her. They knocked her ass out and she slept for two days straight. After the sleeping beauty incident, she never took another pill.

Her job depended on her being alert.

“Did he give any indication of what happened?” Harley asked, her mind flashing to the unidentified body this morning. Harley liked to trust her gut and right now her gut told her to listen.

“No. And he’s been trying to call him but there was no answer.”

Despite their engagement, Harley never met Javier’s family. She only just learned they attended the same school. “Where did you guys go last night?”

Hannah blurted out quickly everything she did since leaving the family yesterday afternoon. They’d gone out to dinner, went to a club, hung out in the parking lot, and then Javier brought her home. “Didn’t you look at the picture I sent you?”

“No,” she tugged the purse from Hannah’s hands and reached inside. She still had three unopened text messages. The attempt to download this morning failed, probably due to the incoming phone call. She clicked on the envelope icon and waited for it to download, again.

“We didn’t do anything wrong, you know me.”

“I know you,” Harley clarified, “not him or his family. Where does he live?”

“Out by Three Points in Little Mexico.”

Harley’s special agent spidey senses went on full alert. The tingling sensation in her gut kept her alive in many situations, not to mention solved a lot of mysteries. A kid dead and disfigured in Little Mexico plus Javier not being able to reach his brother mixed in with teenager trouble in the middle of the night equaled a scenario for anxiety. A sinking teetering at the top of a roller coaster feeling washed over her. “I need to meet Javier.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” The deep masculine voice echoed through the kitchen.

Hannah jumped.

Harley extended her right hand with the 9mm attached at the end toward the arched doorway. Dante Rossi came around the corner, arms raised in surrender. “What the hell are you doing here?” Harley growled out loud.

“Friend of yours, Harley?” asked Hannah, backing up to the kitchen sink.

“I’m working a case,” answered Dante.

Out of the corner of her eye Hannah’s head bobbed back and forth at the two of them. Harley raised an eyebrow. “Your case brought you here? To my house?”

Dante nodded his dark hair. Whatever gel he used in his hair now vanished. His dark locks fell forward emphasizing his bad boy look. He still wore his dark slacks, but the jacket and tie were gone, and shirt loosened at his throat. Whiplash panged her neck and she resisted smiling at last night’s memory. The suit. It had to be the suit. Maybe since she spent most of her undercover days with men in uniform, suits attracted her. No, she shook her head, at fifteen years of age she had a fixation for a sharp dresser.

A well-tailored suit did the same thing to her as lingerie on women did to men. She should know better after crashing and burning for a hot guy. Maybe her mouth watering was a knee jerk response because she knew exactly what Dante worked with underneath. To complete his professional attire, he carried a small black briefcase, probably containing a laptop.

“I need to see what is on your phone, Harley, but first I’m going to need you to lower your weapon.”

“You couldn’t knock?” Harley steadied her hand. “How the hell did you find out where I live?”

“I could have knocked but I don’t want my suspect to flee.”

Her heart raced with anger. “Suspect? What in the hell is going on?”

Clearing his throat, Dante raised his hands to show he was not armed or dangerous. “Harley, what I have to tell you, I don’t want you to take the wrong way.”

Harley put her free hand on her hip. “You break into my house and call me a suspect?”

“No.”

“You didn’t just break in my house?” She turned and glanced at Hannah, white as a sheet. “Hannah, go upstairs.”

“I’m not leaving you with this creep.”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Dante said taking another step inside the kitchen, his dark eyes darted back and forth between them, “either one of you. I just need to see what’s on your phone.”

For the fourth time now, he wanted her phone starting from when they first met. This morning at his place he wanted to hold her phone, at the crime scene and now here he was again. Shame washed over her. He’d been playing her all along. “You sonofabitch.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Harley, what’s going on?” Hannah asked shakily.

Dante turned his dark gaze to Hannah, his smile softened the mood in the kitchen. “I work for the FBI, Hannah.”

Hannah turned her gaze to Harley. “This is your FBI guy?”

The corners of Dante’s talented mouth turned upwards, “I’m your FBI guy?”

Now it sounded silly to put ownership to him. Harley resisted the feeling of a blush. She avoided his eye contact, rolling her eyes; she looked back at her niece. “Obviously not.”

“Well, how do you know my name?”

“I know all about you, Hannah.”

Harley turned her gun sideways at him and squared her shoulders. “Okay, I am officially creeped out.”

“I’m here because of the creeping,” he said with a chuckle. This was no laughing matter. “The creeping, is it? Don’t you kids call it photo-bombing now?” Squeezing the grip of her weapon, Harley cleared her throat. “You’ve got two seconds before I shoot you.”

“Stand down, Harley. I told you last night I am here on business. I work for the Organized Crime Unit. Your niece and her friends took some pictures last night and posted them to social media. They blurred out the alleged suspects but when the pictures came over the wire it picked up a hit.”

“Since when is taking pictures something the FBI monitors?” Thanks to a few whistleblowers, the FBI working Homeland Security Act disengaged themselves from any activity. Her unit handled surveillance and did the hard work. If the agency did well, politicians took the credit.

“It’s not a crime. I need to see the picture so I can verify things. My suspect is in town. My department’s involvement caught a facial recognition scan when his face was posted to Face Book. I need to view the source.”

At that moment Harley’s phone dinged, indicating it was finished downloading. She lowered her gun back into the front pocket of her robe. All three of them looked at the mobile device sitting on the countertop. “Well, let’s just take a look.”

Hannah sat back on the stool while Dante hovered over Harley’s shoulder. She was all too aware of Dante’s closeness, his hard chest and abs against her back. His breath smelled of sugary doughnuts, most particularly the cherry filled ones- her favorite. Harley tossed a glance over her shoulder and realized he’d broken in to the box of pastries on the island. Rolling her eyes, Harley cleared her throat and tried to focus on the phone in her hand.

An image slowly came into focus. Harley recognized Hannah right off the bat. She stood behind a table with two men smiling at a camera off to their right. Hannah stood to the left and was holding up her two fingers in a peace sign. Harley recognized the crimson color of the oxford shirt on one of the boys. And at the table sat two men, one in a black suit, and the other in white. They were in what appeared a very intense conversation. The guy in black was none other than Christopher Alfaro. Dante seemed to recognize the other guy seated with Alfaro. He pressed his index finger over the picture of the man in the white suit.

“This is my guy.”

“What does this mean?” Harley asked, stepping forward, away from him. The heat from his body unnerved her with sexual distraction.

“It means Leonardo is here in town and your niece and her friends have captured them on film when they photo-bombed this meeting.”

Shaking her head Hannah stood, leaned forward on her hands and stared at the picture. “Those guys were all serious. We had to creep in it.”

Dante shook his head and let out a sigh. “Yes, but you posted it to FaceBook.”

“Mine didn’t post.”

“Someone did. They tagged you in the photograph. The global positioning of this phone is what brought me here to you.”

Harley turned around and found herself in a half embrace. Dante’s strong arm leaned against the counter framing her body. Given her experience working with the Government, Harley did not have a lot of faith in the FBI. When did they get so concerned they sent a man to investigate? “Is Hannah in trouble?”

“I can’t press charges against her for taking a picture.”

“You know what I mean.” Then before she said another word she ordered Hannah to go upstairs and get Javier. When she and Dante were alone in the room she was able to look Dante in the eye. “Is Hannah safe?”

“I don’t know.”

The honest answer unsettled her. “How dangerous is this guy?”

“Remember the kid on the street this morning?”

A wave of nausea washed over her. The walls of her mouth were watering. “Hannah said Javier’s brother is missing and did you notice the color of his shirt?”

“The police never got a name on the boy,” he took the phone and scrolled to the next picture. Harley leaned in to look. He set the phone back down on the counter. “My gut tells me he might be him.” Dante ran his large hands through his dark hair. “I need to get you guys some place safe.”

“I’m not going to argue with you.”

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