The Heart Of The Game (40 page)

A waiter broke into the circle with a tray of champagne. Zoe took a glass and downed it in four swallows.

Vico took her empty glass and handed her another. “Parties always make me thirsty,” he said.

Cody touched Zoe’s elbow. She flinched when he leaned close to her ear. “I need to talk with you.”

Zoe tilted her head up and met his eyes. There was no joy there. If he read the glassy stare right, she was barely holding herself together.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “I’ll be here for hours.” Her voice sounded measured, controlled. Not right. She pressed her lips into a firm line.

Vico said something in rapid Italian. The man to Zoe’s left laughed.

“Speak English,” she said, scowling at Vico. “You know Cody doesn’t speak Italian.”

“Forgive me,” Vico said. “I forgot.”

Cody figured he should get huge points for not flat-out decking the guy.

“Bond,” Alex said as he came up to the group. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” He took Cody’s arm. “I’ll bring him back.” Alex grinned. “I promise.”

Alex dragged him over to Alastair, of all people. “This is Zoe’s neighbor, Alastair—”

“We’ve met,” Alastair said as he shook Cody’s hand. “So you’re the horse whisperer.”

“Hardly,” Cody replied, looking over the old man’s shoulder, trying to keep an eye on Zoe.

“Now don’t go getting all modest on me. I need facts. You get to be my age and you want information straight up and no pussyfooting. My Sugar’s not right, hasn’t been for a few days. The vet’s useless—ran all sorts of tests, cost me a fortune. Will you come over and have a look when you can?”

“Be glad to, Mr. Husch.”

“Alastair.” The old man whipped out a card. “There’s my home phone. I never answer the cell, so don’t bother. I have it for nine-one-one purposes.” He snorted a laugh. “But if I’m bad off enough to need nine-one-one, I doubt I’ll be trying to punch numbers into the damned gadget.”

Alex and Cody laughed. But it occurred to Cody that it must be a hell of a thing to get old and be alone.

“I can head over around noon,” Cody said, half distracted as Zoe and her group moved out of sight. He angled for a better view, but didn’t see her or Vico. The older Italian man was now near the bar setup in the foyer, talking with Adrian.

“Good man.” Alastair stopped a waiter and chose from the hors d’oeuvres on his tray. He then stared at his selection, shaking his head. “This is the smallest pancake I’ve ever seen in my life.” He popped the morsel into his mouth. “Tasty though.” He grabbed the waiter by the elbow, swinging him around, and took three more, piling them one on top of the other and then popping the whole group into his mouth. “You boys better eat up,” he said as he washed his mini-feast down with champagne. “Put some muscle on those young bones. I’m planning on seeing you in the Series this year.”

Cody nodded, only half listening.

“I believe I’ll head home,” Alastair said. “These storm winds are only going to whip up worse, and my horses don’t like thunder. It’ll be another night in the barn for me.”

“I can drive you,” Alex offered.

“I live next door. When I can’t get from here to there under my own steam, just shut me in the barn and call the undertakers.”

Adrian approached them with the Italian man in tow.

“Cristo wanted a word with you, Cody,” Adrian said.

“And with Mr. Husch,” Cristo said, extending a hand to detain Alastair.

Alastair looked the elegant Italian up and down. “Not for sale,” he said gruffly.

Cristo didn’t blink. “I’m not interested in buying your property, signor. I simply would like to discuss pasturing three of my polo ponies with you over the winter. Provided you have barn space, that is.” He turned to Cody. “I saw you ride in the match in September. You could have a career ahead of you if you worked at it.”

Alastair snorted a laugh, but Cody saw that the man was sincere. Not everyone knew he played baseball for a living.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” But all he had in his mind right then was finding Zoe. “But if you’ll all excuse me, I need to—”

“Go find that girl,” Alastair said with a twinkling smile. “The two of you are gonna make an old man out of me yet.” He looked over to Adrian. “That storm steeping out there doesn’t have half the power as what’s brewing between your sister and this spark plug.”

Heat spiked up Cody’s neck. He hadn’t been aware that he and Zoe had been that obvious.

“Ah,” Cristo said, “our princess. You’ll have to buff up your riding skills if you want to keep up with her, Mr. Bond.” He turned to Adrian. “If your sister had a couple more strong ponies, her team could compete in the Cup. Win it, I think.”

Cody didn’t stick around to hear more.

He circled the party like a hungry shark, slipping away from several women making determined efforts to gain his attention. Zoe wasn’t in the main party space. And she wasn’t in the foyer. When he thought he heard her voice coming from the kitchen, he headed there.

“Cody, how handsome you look,” Anastasia said in a teasing tone. “But this will not do.” She reached up to his tie. “American men never know how to make a tie look
elegante
.” She laughed. That she was treating him like one of her brothers was a relief. That she was delaying his search wasn’t.

“Have you seen Zoe?”

“Has she come down already? I heard she was in a mood. I avoid Zoe when she’s in a mood, and lately she’s been impossible.” She snugged his tie against his collar. “Coco blames you, of course.”

“I need to find her.”

Anastasia smiled. “Indeed.” She patted the tie. “You’re presentable now.”

God protect the men of the world as they faced the beauty and charm of the Tavonesi women.

“Try looking upstairs. Sometimes she flees to her rooms.”

Cody took the stairs two at a time.

I’ll show you the painting that will be the centerpiece of the exhibit,” Zoe said as Vico trailed her along the hallway to her father’s library. It felt good to be able to talk about her plans for the gallery. “I just heard from the contractor that the lighting is completed. All that’s left to do is hang the art.”

“I admire your effort to honor your mother,” Vico said as they reached the door.

Was that all she was doing? Honoring her mother?

“I’ve always wanted an endeavor of my own,” she said brusquely.

“I understand. I feel the same.”

His gently said words eased into her. Finally someone understood her motivations. She punched in the code she now had memorized. “You’d think we had an entire museum of million-dollar paintings in here the way my father has armed this house,” she said with a light laugh.

“It’s good to be cautious,” Vico said as they slipped into the library. He pulled the door shut behind them. “The world isn’t as safe as it once was. It’s a pity.”

She led him to her mother’s painting. “Of course, my mother’s work means more to me from a sentimental point of view than the Monet. Her later paintings, the ones hanging in our villa in Rome, are more spectacular, but to me, this one has the most heart.”

“She captured the light on the hills perfectly,” Vico said, waving his champagne glass toward the painting. As he extended his arm, the glass slipped from his hand, crashing to the floor in a splash of liquid and shattering crystal.

“How clumsy of me, I’m so sorry.”

Zoe grabbed a towel from the bar next to her father’s desk and bent down to blot the spreading champagne from the polished wood floor.

Vico crouched down beside her. “Let me help.”

“I have it. Just be careful of the glass, it could—”

His shoulder pressed into her, shoving her off balance and forcing her into the puddle of champagne. Before she could catch her breath, ask him what was going on, his hands went around her ankles. She pressed to her elbows to get up, but couldn’t move her feet. She looked down to find a thin plastic binding circling her ankles.

“What the hell are you doing, Vico?”

Without speaking, Vico reached for her arm. She pulled away, balled both hands into fists and struck at him with the full force of her arms. He grabbed her hands with a strength that surprised her and forced her arms apart and then together behind her back, bending her forward. Pain seared through her wrists, and she knew he’d used the same narrow binding on her wrists.

“Are you out of your mind? The painting isn’t worth it. Let me go. We can forget this happened.”

“Painting?” he parroted, as if she were the crazy one.

She screamed for help.

Before she could cry out again, he stuffed the silk square from his pocket into her mouth.

“Just a precaution. You must know that you can’t be heard over the noise and music of the party.” His eyes roved her body. “Let’s get you away from all that broken glass,” he said, as if he were speaking to a child.

He slid his arms under her body and tugged her back a few feet from the edge of the carpet and toward her father’s desk. Then he rolled her onto her side and blocked her against the desk with a chair.

“No need for you to see more than necessary.”

He looked at her with a smile that chilled her bones.

“I’ve wanted to taste you since I was a boy.”

His strange, gentle tone rumbled through her with more force than any shouted words could have. And the meaning of those words shot a shudder down her body.

He knelt near her head and then bent down and lowered his lips to hers, pressing hard against her mouth. The silk cloth made it impossible for her to bite him. The look in his eyes made her stomach roil. She jerked her head to the side, away from him. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, imagine that he would assault her in her own house.

“
Not
an ideal first kiss.” He stroked a hand down her back. “And, unfortunately, there’s no time for what I’d prefer to follow it up with. It really is too bad we can’t enjoy this evening together properly.” He cupped her hip with his hand, slid his fingers over the curve of her bottom. “You would’ve enjoyed the pleasure I could bring you.” He shook his head. “But this is a work night for me.”

She heard him drop into the chair in front of her father’s computers.

“I would’ve had your brother let me in here,” he said. “But I couldn’t overpower him, and I’d rather not harm him. He’s been kind to me.”

The sound of him tapping at the keyboard tattooed through Zoe’s head. What could possibly be so important, she didn’t know. He walked to where her father’s safe was concealed in the wall.

“I suppose you wouldn’t give me the combination even if you knew it,” he said, talking to himself.

The metallic taste of fear pooled in Zoe’s mouth. She heard a muffled blast and the sound of papers shuffling. Something thudded to the floor, and Vico cursed.

She hoped he was hurt. Hell, if the worst injury he could get going through her father’s safe was a paper cut, she hoped he got dozens and developed tetanus.

She almost choked on the childish response, but if delivering imaginary pain through her thoughts was all she could manage, she was all for it.

But that wasn’t all she could do.

She started pushing at the chair that imprisoned her.

The door to Zoe’s rooms was open. Cody rushed in. He checked the bathroom, the small kitchen. And stopped when he reached the bedroom. Just standing there brought back memories of the night they’d spent in her bed. The night he’d fallen in love. But this was no time to reminisce. He shook off the memories. His conversation with his father drove his steps faster as he headed back downstairs.

He paused on the landing and scanned the crowd. The foyer was packed with guests, but no Zoe. No Vico, either. Music blared from an alcove, and the roar of celebrating voices hit him like a wall of rushing water.

She could be anywhere.

Don’t do anything too heroic
, his father had warned. So far he was well off that mark.

Cody slipped around the back of the staircase and headed for the library. Maybe Zoe had sought refuge there. The door was closed. He knocked. When there was no answer he tried the handle. No go. Remembering the slip of paper Zoe had pulled from a hiding space, he lifted the edge of the carpet. The scrap of paper with her sloping numbers was still there. He punched in the code and opened the door.

And stopped in his tracks. Vico stood in front of an open safe with a small black box in his hands.

“Ah, Bond. I’d rather you hadn’t come.”

At a soft rustling sound, Cody lowered his gaze, shocked to see Zoe on the floor by the desk. Rage flamed, warnings forgotten. He launched himself at Vico. Vico sidestepped him and reached into his pocket.

Cody saw the probes from the Taser arc toward him, but had no time to react. His body stiffened and he lost control of his muscles. But after he fell to the floor, he was completely aware of Vico binding his ankles.

When Vico slammed the Taser into his temple, the world went black.

A cold wind blew across Cody as he came to. He had no idea how long he’d been out. He lifted onto his elbows and the room reeled. He sat up slowly and heard pounding as his head started to clear. He inched over to Zoe and knocked the chair away, then pulled the gag from her mouth.

“You okay?”

“I thought he shot you.” She burst into tears.

Cody wrapped himself around her as well as he could, trying to still her shivers as well as his. “Taser. Let’s undo those zip ties.”

“He’s not after the painting,” she said between sobs.

“No, he’s not.”

Her eyes went wide.

“We can talk in a few minutes.” He sat her up against the side of the desk and wiped at her cheeks with the cuff of his jacket. Then he hauled himself to his feet—on his wobbly legs—and grabbed scissors from the desk. With an abrupt move, he cut the plastic binding his feet.

“You
knew
?” she said, her breath still shaky as he sliced off her bindings.

“I’ll explain later.”

He stood again, his head still fuzzy. He steadied himself against the desk, his hands pushing on the wood. The websites that said people recovered quickly from tasing obviously hadn’t been hit like he had.

“I need to go after him. That is, if you’re okay.”

She shook her head. “No, he has a gun.”

“Just the Taser. I’ll be fine.”

“That
won’t
be necessary.” Zoe’s dad stood at the door of the library. He slammed the door behind him and rushed to Zoe.

“I’m so sorry.” Santino was checking her arms, her face, peering into her eyes.

“I can catch him,” Cody said, heading for the open door leading out to the garden.

“No,” Santino said loudly. He let out a heavy breath. “Catching him would be the worst possible outcome.”

Zoe shook off her dad’s hands and stood. In her gown, she looked like the heroine of a film noir murder mystery—disheveled and shaky but beautiful and boldly determined to capture the murderer.

“We should call the police. Look what he did to your computer.” She flung out a hand. “And your safe.” She looked inside. “He took Mama’s pearls.” She reached for the phone on the desk.

“No, Zoe.” Santino took the receiver from her hand. “This isn’t a matter for the police.”

Cody eyed Santino. If what his dad said was correct—and it looked like his dad had been right—the man had some explaining to do.

Zoe backed away from the desk, eyeing first him and then her dad. “I think I need to sit down.”

Cody rushed to her side and steadied her as she dropped onto the leather couch.

“You sure you’re okay?” He stroked her hair away from her face and then ran his fingers along her skull. “Did he hit you? Do you have a headache?”

She shook her head. “No.” She scooted a foot away from him, her posture rigid. “He simply fooled me. Just like you two seem to have done.”

Cody didn’t like being put into the same category as Santino and Gualdieri, but he supposed he deserved it. He
had
deceived her.

He looked to Santino.

“The ball’s in your court, sir.”

If lives were at stake, it was up to Santino to tell the story as it ought to be told at this point in whatever damned operation was underway. If he was a crook and not an agent, that didn’t really matter. Not right then. What mattered was what Santino would tell Zoe and how he would keep her safe. Cody hoped the news wouldn’t crush her. Being betrayed by a parent wasn’t something anyone should have to bear.

Zoe began to tremble.

Cody took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. He winced as he stepped back.

“Are
you
okay?”

She sounded truly concerned. A guy attacks her in her own home and she was worried about Cody.

“Aftereffects of the Taser. I’ll be fine. In the morning I’ll just feel like I’ve gone a round with a bull.”