“Um…” Images of the little bears at the end of Star Wars filled my mind, but I didn’t for a second believe that’s what he meant.
“The old guys used to smear peanut butter all over a body and drag it out to the woods in northern New York. They’d leave it for the bears to finish their work.”
My eyes shot wide, and I grimaced. “TMI.”
“Gross, yes, but effective. Nobody ever found body parts after somebody had a teddy bear picnic.”
I shook my head, unable to picture my cousin doing something so horrible. “That’s tragic. You don’t do that anymore. Right?” Maine had a lot of woods. Maybe the family had more than one reason for Frankie to relocate to his northern region.
He shrugged, apparently not fazed by the cruelty. “I’ve heard guys out west still do it. It’s too messy for the East Coast. People notice when you buy barrels of peanut butter now.”
I’d been about to type the words into my search browser when Frankie’s doorbell rang, but he made no move to get up and answer it.
A smart woman would use his moment of distraction to jump on the internet and alert my cousin to my whereabouts. This theory had problems, though. One, Westley knew where Frankie stashed me. My kidnapping wasn’t a secret. Also, it was the first thing I tried as soon as he left me alone with the new computer.
He’d blocked all the useful websites—every single email program and social media. Frankie didn’t just hire goons with guns. It seemed he also had somebody with a lot of computer knowledge on his payroll.
I returned to typing, deciding I couldn’t use Frankie’s story as a resource on my paper. Eventually, I’d have to cite my source for my research. Somehow, I didn’t believe my professor would agree that a first-hand account interview with a mobster while being kidnapped counted as a reliable information.
“Vonnie to see you, sir,” Big Tommy, who was acting as our joint bodyguard, said while leaning a few inches into Frankie’s office.
Frankie barely jerked his head to the affirmative for Big Tommy to let her in before a cute blonde bounced her way into the room. Her hair was tied back into a tight bun at the base of her neck, and she scanned the room once before she walked in like she’d been here a hundred times. She took a seat in one of the leather chairs across from Frankie’s desk, putting her close to me.
I didn’t know who this woman was or her familiarity with Frankie, so I zipped my lips closed rather than scream at her to get help because he had kidnapped me. Who knew what her connections were to the mob. She was much too at ease in the gangster’s private office for my liking. And not just because I thought maybe she was an employee, but another reason.
That little tingle, the spark I’d had with Frankie the other day, intensified. They were midway into their conversation before I pegged it as jealousy.
Only I would be stupid enough to develop feelings for the man who kidnapped me from Chicago.
“You have anything to do with the robbery in Clearwater two nights ago?” The young woman named Vonnie questioned Frankie. She leaned across the desk and got right into his space, her gaze staring into his as she waited for him to flinch.
Frankie leaned back in his chair like he wanted to put space between the two of them. “Vonnie, I’m offended.”
I stiffened in my chair. If he’d told me I’d offended him, I’d worry about the repercussions, but the young woman didn’t even blink fast. She couldn’t be older than twenty-five, but learning she offended a Zanetti didn’t cause her to break out in a sweat. If she hadn’t referenced a robbery, I’d suspect she didn’t know who she was talking to.
“You know I have to ask,” she said, settling back in her chair at ease. I breathed a sigh of relief not only at her safety but that they were no longer so close. “Katy expects a full report, and she was busy at the bed-and-breakfast today, so it’s up to me.”
“I’d hoped Pierce would do a better job of keeping her in line,” Frankie said, rubbing one finger across his eyebrow. “Robbery is a petty crime. You and Katy know that’s not my style. Plus, I was with Miss Richter in Chicago,” Frankie said, gesturing toward me with his hand.
A move the blonde did not miss.
And did he just use me as an alibi?
Mobsters.
She stared at me again and steepled her fingers against the leather armrest of her chair. The intense scrutiny caused my cheeks to heat. Frankie admitted we were in Chicago, and how he said it made it sound as if we were there together. As in a couple. Spending our nights together… frolicking.
At least that’s the way Vonnie took it from the way she gazed at me with a discerning expression. Her next words made no sense. “You know I’m going to report this at the bakery.”
Just as matter-of-factly, Frankie’s response was also confusing. He did nothing more but simply shrugged and made a small grunt of acknowledgment. “We all do what we must.”
Vonnie slid back her chair and stood. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said but didn’t reach her hand out to shake mine. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”
I nodded, not sure what else to say. Frankie didn’t mention how long he’d given my cousin to come up with the rest of the money, and I didn’t know how often he allowed her to visit. Or what they normally did when she came.
More jealousy reared its ugly head at the thought of their relationship.
Vonnie was halfway out the door when Frankie called, “Tell Anessa I said hello.”
