Deadly Deception Page 5

  “Good!” Ben said. “We’ll work on firing in a pattern soon, but lesson number two. Who are you there to protect?”

  “The children.”

  “Right. And harm will probably come in the form of a man with a gun. When you see him, the smart thing to do would be to turn your body sideways. You’d make much less of a target. But don’t do that, Boss. Put yourself in front of the children, if you can. And stand facing him fully. Do you know why you have to stand like that?”

  Dani nodded slowly. “So that if he fires, he’ll hit me instead of one of the children.”

  “You’ve got it.” Ben nodded. “This is the way—” He took his own gun from a shoulder holster so rapidly it seemed to Dani to appear, then he turned to face the tree. “That tree has a gun. It’s trying to kill you.” He leaped suddenly in front of her, turning his body to face the tree, and the air was rocked with what seemed to be one continuous explosion. She kept her eyes open and saw the bark flying from the tree, torn by the heavy slugs that ripped into it.

  Then it was quiet, very quiet. He lowered the gun and stared at the tree, saying nothing. Dani felt almost afraid of him then. She knew he had led a violent life, in the Marine Corps and as a policeman, but she had never seen the violence explode—except once. She thought about the time the two of them had been trapped on top of the silo where they had been held prisoner by Stone. Reminded of his fight to the death with one of their captors, she wavered. “Ben, I—I’m not sure I can do it.”

  He turned to her, and his voice was gentle. “You can learn to shoot, Dani. I can teach you that. Remember I said three things. But one thing I can’t teach you.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  He looked at the tree, then shrugged. “I can’t teach you how to kill a man,” he told her. “If the time ever comes when you have to decide—it’ll be you who makes that decision. But if you shoot at all, shoot to kill! That’s why I talked you into carrying a larger-caliber gun. That peashooter you had wouldn’t put a man down, unless you got a head shot or hit the heart. This cannon I’m carrying will knock him down if it hits him in the finger!”

  He swung free the cylinder of his heavy revolver, kicked the spent shells out, and put them in his pocket. Going to the car, he took his suitcase out, found a box of shells and proceeded to reload.

  “Better load that clip,” he ordered brusquely. “Time to get going.”

  Dani licked her dry lips, then took the clip from the automatic and reloaded, thumbing the safety back into position. Without a word, she got in the Marquis, and he turned the car around and drove quickly away.

  Five minutes after they left, the snub nose of a curious gator surfaced, his dim brain stirred by the explosions. Finding nothing to eat, he slowly sank into the murky water, like a petrified log.

  4

  The Family

  * * *

  After the shooting lesson, Ben drove Dani to her parents’ home.

  Braking the Marquis, he glanced at Dani, who had not said a word since leaving the bayou. Her hands were clenched, he noted, and there was a tightness in her full lips that drew them together. “Having second thoughts, Boss?” he asked.

  “What?” His question startled her, and she covered quickly. “No, of course not!”

  “Oh. I thought maybe you were.”

  A flash of irritation ran across Dani’s nerves. “Just take care of your job, Ben,” she snapped. “Don’t spend so much time trying to analyze me.” He nodded agreeably, and that annoyed her, too, for she wanted an excuse to strike out at him. Because he was right, she was having second thoughts. She distrusted “hunches,” considering them a device used by people who lacked the ability to think logically and clearly. There was an answer to everything, but that answer had to be found by going over the steps carefully, not by grabbing at a wild feeling.

  The Lanza job should have been settled in her mind, for she had thought about it steadily since agreeing with Dominic to take it on. The money was far better than any the agency had made since she had taken over. Assuming that she and Savage would be on the case for weeks or even months, all the financial pressures that had been piling up on her would be removed.

  But it didn’t feel right—never had and didn’t now. She had been troubled over carrying a gun, and the thought of shooting someone was a specter that came to her even when she lay in bed, bringing her out of a sound sleep with a wrench of shocking fear. Equally disturbing was the matter of working for a criminal figure—for that is all anyone could make of Dominic Lanza.

  “Better think about this thing, Dani,” Luke Sixkiller had warned when she told him she was taking the case. “These guys—they’re not like people you know. You’re used to folks who have some sort of moral standard. Maybe a real weak one, but at least they believe in some kind of break for other people. But you’re moving in with people who don’t have an ounce of pity—they live like piranhas. And no matter how you figure it, the money you get will come from drugs, prostitution—you name it.”

  Dani remembered he had looked at her quizzically and added, “I went down in a coal mine once. There was a woman in the group wearing a white dress. She asked our guide, ‘Is there anything to keep me from wearing this white dress down into the mine?’ That guide laughed at her. He said, ‘No, ma’am—but there’s something to keep you from wearing it back up!’ So if I was you, Dani, I’d think about this real heavy before I took the plunge!”

  Getting out of the car, she said, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Remember, we don’t know each other. Only Dominic and Frank know we’re a team. Don’t come running up and call me by name.” She slammed the door without waiting for an answer, getting a perverse pleasure in treating Savage like a child. He would never have made such a blunder, but she was on edge.

  After spending thirty minutes with her father, she got into her car and drove to the Lanza place. Pulling up to the heavy iron gate, she waited until a huge man came out of the small guardhouse, located just inside the brick wall. He bent down, peered at her, then asked suspiciously, “Yeah? What is it?”

  “My name is Danielle Ross. Mr. Lanza is expecting me.”

  “You ain’t on the list, lady.”

  He turned and walked away, and Dani got out of the car. “Just a minute,” she cried out. “Call Mr. Lanza. He asked me to be here at noon.”

  The big man hesitated, then nodded. “C’mon inside. I’ll check you out.” He pulled the gate open, stepped back to let her pass through, then slammed it shut. The small white building was no more than ten feet square, and when Dani followed him inside, she found another man sitting in a straight chair, reading a blatantly pornographic magazine. He was very tall, with a thatch of red hair and a set of pale greenish eyes, which he fixed on her at once. “She says Mr. Lanza wants to see her, Legs,” the big man explained. “But she ain’t on the list. I better call.”

  The man called Legs stood up and tossed down the magazine. “Yeah, you do that, Louie,” he agreed in an odd, husky voice. “I’ll just frisk her to be sure she ain’t carrying a gun.”

  He stepped forward, hands outstretched, but Dani quickly turned and left the house. She walked toward the gate, but it was locked. She felt his hand on her arm, pulling her around, and she called out, “Let me go!”

  “Aw, come on inside, Baby! You and me got lots to talk about.” He had a hold of her in his powerful grip and was dragging her toward the guardhouse when a voice hit him.

  “Turn her loose, Legs.” Dani tried to break away, could not evade the grip of the man. She saw with relief that Vince Canelli had appeared and was moving toward them, his eyes fixed with anger on Legs.

  “Butt out, Canelli,” the tall man commanded. He kept his grip on Dani, but his free hand dipped into his sport coat. “You ain’t my boss.”

  Vince never stopped moving, but he invited the other man, “Go on, Legs. Go for that gun. I guess you’ve had a pretty full life.”

  Legs hesitated; then something ominous in Canelli caused him
to drop Dani’s arm abruptly. “What’s eatin’ you, Vince? You know we got orders to shake everybody down.”

  “I’d like an excuse to touch you off, Legs,” Vince answered quietly. “You just get out of line with Miss Ross one more time, and as the man said, it’ll make my day.” He shoved Legs back, took Dani’s arm, and barked, “Louie, open that gate.”

  Dani walked with Vince back to her car, where he offered, “Let me drive, Dani. I’ll show you your parking space.” She nodded and got in, and when he put the car in gear and drove past the gate, she said, “Thanks, Vince.”

  “Sure. I’ll have a talk with those gorillas. Don’t worry about it.”

  As the car pulled away, Legs glared after it, and Louie came to stand in the door, saying, “That Vince, he’s a pretty hard cookie, Legs.”

  The tall man’s green eyes narrowed. “He ain’t as tough as a forty-four slug—and that’s what he’s gonna get if he pushes me again!”

  Passing a grove of trees, Vince drove on a blacktop drive that led to the side of the house. He stopped in front of a long, low building, pointing out, “You’ll have stall four. I’ll back it in for you.”

  When he had backed inside, Dani got out and looked at the other cars, which included a silver Rolls Royce and a gleaming red Lamborghini. “I feel like poor Cinderella, Vince.” She grinned ruefully.

  He gave her his lopsided smile and took her arm firmly. “Like Hemingway said, ‘Rich people are only poor people with money.’ Come on. Mr. Lanza isn’t feeling so good today, but Frank said to bring you straight to his office.”

  He led her down a sidewalk edged with contoured green hedges to a glassed-in section of the house that was broken away from the main structure. Vince knocked on the door and, when a voice called, “Come in,” opened the door and stepped back. Dani entered the room, which was brilliantly lit, for there was glass on three sides, the fourth lined with books. “This is Danielle Ross, Frank. Frank Lanza, Dani.” Vince spoke quickly.

  “Thank you, Vince.” Something in this phrase signaled to Canelli that he was no longer needed, and he turned and left the room at once. “Here, have a seat, Miss Ross,” Lanza offered. “Let me fix you a drink.”

  Dani moved across the room to sit down in the chair indicated, but said, “Nothing for me, thank you.” She saw that he expected the reply and smiled. “I don’t drink, Mr. Lanza.”

  Something stirred in Frank Lanza’s smooth expression, then a smile that made him look much younger lit his face. “That’ll take a little getting used to,” he finally observed. He walked over to a leather chair in front of a large rosewood desk, whirled it around, and sat down. Leaning back, he studied her as he would have examined a car he was considering buying. “My father thinks you can help us, Miss Ross. I hope so, because we need some help bad,” he admitted.

  “I like your father,” Dani chimed in, then paused, for she had not intended to say that—in fact, she had not realized that it was true. She paused, and Lanza, noting the swift change of expression, was caught by it. She was a far more attractive woman than he had expected. His father had told him she was, but Frank thought he had meant simply that she was presentable. The young woman who sat before him was not the highly lacquered and hard-surfaced type he knew so well. Her clothing was simple, but well chosen, and the grace of her figure was apparent even in the loose fitting coat and sweater. There was a sweet curve to her cheeks that no plastic surgeon could create, and the delicate rose flush of her complexion had not come from a bottle.

  Lanza suddenly shook his shoulders, gave a surprised laugh, and apologized, “Sorry, Miss Ross. I didn’t mean to stare—but—well, you’re not what I expected.” He raised a well-cared-for hand, adding, “But that’s all the better. I didn’t want my kids being cared for by an amazon with biceps!”

  Dani nodded, adding quickly, “I hope your father told you that I have no qualifications for teaching, Mr. Lanza?”

  “Look, let’s make it Frank and Dani—except when people are around, all right? You’ve got a CPA, Pop says. You can handle the kids. I want you to bring in anybody you need to help. Get some high-school teacher to help with the technical stuff—history, English. . . .”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Lanza smiled, and once again she noted how it made him seem much younger. He was an intensely attractive man, but not one who was much concerned with his looks. She saw his father’s image in him, and the thought brought a serious look into her eyes. “I’m sorry about your father.”

  Frank dropped his head and studied his hands. Finally he looked up at her, and she saw the pain in his dark eyes. There was a hardness about him, but not concerning his father. “He’s a great guy,” he explained quietly. “Can’t believe he’s leaving us.” Dani said nothing, and Lanza suddenly pulled himself out of the chair, abruptly commenting, “Well, the best thing you can do for him is to keep his grandchildren alive. I hear your man Savage is hard as nails. Are you carrying a gun?” When she nodded, he asked, “Let’s see, Dani.”

  Standing, Dani pulled the automatic from the concealed holster, grateful that it went better than it had in her office. She held the gun loosely, and Frank admitted, “I hope you never have to use it—but I feel better about the kids already.” He glanced at the gold clock on the wall. “Hey, it’s time for lunch. I thought it would be good for you to meet the kids now. We can talk about procedures later, okay?”

  “That will be fine.” Dani nodded. “Savage will be coming in the morning. As far as possible, one of us will be close to the children at all times.”

  “Good! I like that very much. Now—let’s go meet your pupils.”

  He stepped toward a heavy walnut door, opened it, then when she passed through, led her down a flagstone walk shaded by cypress trees, huge ones that towered even over the top of the house. They turned in a doorway that opened into a hall. “We have lunch in the small dining room,” he told Dani as they moved down the heavily carpeted hallway. He opened a massive door, and she stepped inside the “small” dining room, which was at least fifteen feet wide and twenty feet long. Lanza closed the door and led her to a large table where four young people waited.

  “All right, kids, here she is,” Frank announced, leading Dani to an empty chair next to the head of the long table. He paused, then asked, “Where’s your mother?”

  “She’s not feeling very good, Daddy.” The answer came from a small girl with fine bones and large brown eyes. Her fingernails were bitten to the quick, Dani noted, and she blinked too rapidly.

  Lanza interjected, “This is Miss Danielle Ross, your new teacher.”

  “She don’t look like Mary Poppins!” Pat stared at Dani, shaking his round head with disapproval. “She don’t have an umbrella!”

  “That outspoken young fellow is Patrick.” Lanza grinned. “I hope you can teach him a few manners. And this is Rachel—and this is my oldest, Matthew.”

  A young girl, perhaps eighteen, stood beside one of the tall windows. Turning, she gave Dani a quick inspection, then laughed and chimed in, “No, she’s no Mary Poppins, Pat.” She had an oval face with a mass of dark-brown, curly hair and a shapely body that was deliberately displayed in a tight-fitting mustard-colored top and pair of brown knit stirrup pants. “You forgot to introduce me to our nanny, Uncle Frank.”

  Lanza stared at her, then observed briefly, “I didn’t know you intended to join the class. This is my niece, Abby, Miss Ross. She’s my brother Eddy’s daughter.”

  Dani saw the mocking light in the girl’s eyes, but said only, “I’m glad to meet you, Abby. And the rest of you.” All four of them were staring at her, and she laughed. “Well, Abby is right. I’m no Mary Poppins. No magic tricks—and I can’t sing much.”

  Lanza quickly invited, “Sit down, Miss Ross. Let’s eat, and then I’ll leave you to get acquainted.” He pulled her chair out, seated her, then sat down at the head of the table. “I guess we’re ready, Mary.”

  A thin young woman with red hair had entered th
e room. She nodded and disappeared through a door, and at once another young woman, this one shapely and very pretty, entered, carrying a silver tray. As she served soup to the family, Frank performed more introductions, “This is Debbie Satterfield—And this is Mary Sinclair,” he added as the older maid came back with a tray of sandwiches.

  Dani spoke to them both, and they nodded as they served the food. It was an informal meal, and would have been rather stiff, but Pat kept up a steady stream of questions for the newcomer. He was a bright youngster, alert and blunt as four-year-olds usually are.

  “Do you have any little boys?” he demanded at once.

  Dani smiled over her soup at him. “No, I don’t, Patrick.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not married. I haven’t started my family yet.”

  Pat considered that and asked, “How old are you?”

  “Pat!” Lanza protested. “Never ask a woman that!”

  “I’m twenty-six.” Dani smiled.

  Carefully the boy took a huge bite of his sandwich as he thought about that. Then he shook his head. “That’s old!”

  “No, it’s young, Pat,” Abby said. There was a calculating gleam in her almond-shaped brown eyes as she commented, “You’re too young to keep this bunch in hand, Dani.”

  “I’m young to you, but old to Patrick,” Dani noted. “What about you two?”

  Matthew had been expecting something quite different. He was a shy boy, and when Dani looked at him directly with a smile, he could only shrug, saying, “I dunno. Never had a nanny before.”

  “Well, I’ve never been a nanny,” Dani admitted, having decided to be as honest as possible with the children. “I suppose we’ll have to learn how to get along. What do you think, Rachel? Are you on my side? That’s asking a lot, isn’t it? To side with the schoolteacher!”

  Rachel had been watching Dani, fascinated by her beauty. She blurted out, “I’m not very smart.”

  Dani shook her head. “My first order is never say that again, Rachel. All right?” She smiled, and Rachel agreed shyly, “All right.”