Page 45 of Above ’N’ Beyond

Juan Espinoza really was a parole officer. He was also the brother of another Port Authority cop Jamie had gone through the academy with. Juan had been more than happy to assist with Jamie’s painstakingly orchestrated cover story.

“Come.” Paola flicked her fingers, and they followed her into the dining room to the table he’d noticed on the way in that was long enough to accommodate a small country. An ornate chandelier with pink crystals hung over the table. Considering it was the size of a fifty-five-gallon drum, he hoped it didn’t fall on their heads.

It was obvious the elaborate table settings had been designed to match the chandelier. The tablecloth was white with frilly pink trim and matching napkins. Even the stacked plates were pink with embossed gold stuff around the edges. And how many forks, spoons, and knives did one person need to eat dinner? The only thing he’d ever needed to eat his mom’s lasagna was a fork. There had to be more than a dozen pieces of silverware in front of each chair, along with three different size and shape glasses and tiny little espresso cups.

Jamie didn’t know which was more impressive—the table settings or the large picture windows taking up an entire wall. Outside, the Hudson churned up white caps as the thunderstorm continued rolling through the area.

“Sit.” As expected, Paola took the chair at the head of the table. “Food and wine before business. Jimmy, you sit here.”

When she waved her diamond-laden hand at the seat immediately to her left, Marco made another grinding sound of disapproval. Guess that seat was normally reserved for him.

Too bad. The guy was seriously starting to irritate Jamie, but he understood the man’s reaction. As Tony’s lieutenant, Marco was, essentially, third in command. Jamie’s presence undercut that position, especially since it had been he who had saved Tony’s life in prison. Jamie would bet that ate at Marco like a vat of acid.

Since neither Tony nor Marco made a move to do so, Jamie stood behind Paola as she lowered herself gracefully onto the high-backed captain’s chair, then pushed it in for her.

Marco’s expression filled with derision. Whatever this man had against him, it was more than just a healthy distrust of the new guy. Jealousy over Bella might have something to do with it. Either way, Jamie’s gut told him to watch his back around Marco Ianetti or risk having one of Paola’s pricey silver forks jammed into his neck when he wasn’t looking.

As they sat, Jax lay down at the corner of the table between Jamie and Paola. With a groan that clearly said he was bored, Jax rested his head on the rug.

“Bettina?” Paola called out.

Italian opera began playing from speakers flush in the ceiling. Two seconds later, a woman with short gray hair, a pinched face, and wearing a black maid uniform and a white apron pushed through a swinging door toting a tray with two decanters of red wine and two small canoe-shaped bowls containing olives and nuts. She must have the hearing of a bat or been hovering by the kitchen door.

Had she heard the argument between Bella and Paola? As housekeeper, Bettina was in a position to overhear things and could very well be privy to a wealth of information the FBI would kill for. Was she the informant Jenkins had nebulously referred to?

Bettina set the tray on the table, then proceeded to fill their glasses, emptying one of the decanters.

“Thank you, Bettina,” Paola said without looking at the other woman. To Jamie, she said, “This is Il Caggio, my favorite Chianti.”

Bettina set the remaining decanter on the table, then picked up the tray and disappeared through the swinging door.

Paola picked up her glass and held it in the air. “Salute.”

As one, Jamie and the other men did the same and waited for Paola to take the first sip. When she did, Jamie tipped his glass, swallowing the bare minimum necessary to keep up appearances. Given the scam he was about to pitch to earn his place, he had to keep a clear head.

“You like it?” Tony asked, then tossed an olive into his mouth and chewed loudly. “It’s very expensive. Three hundred dollars a pop but worth every penny. Bella’s got bottles of this stuff locked up in a special wine cooler at the Bistro. Every once in a while, I pinch one. She doesn’t know that I know where she hides the key.” He grinned slyly.

Jamie didn’t doubt for one second the wine was of the highest quality money could buy. Or, in the case of the Mancusos, steal. The miniscule amount he’d swallowed had tasted expensive, even better than the Pierazzuoli he’d sipped on at the Bistro. “It’s excellent,” he said to Paola, who smiled back, clearly pleased.

This time, Paola didn’t call for Bettina but picked up a silver bell sitting at her left hand and rang it. Again, as if she’d had her ear glued to that swinging door, Bettina immediately brought in a platter of baked clams. Smells of garlic and herbs rolled across the table, making Jamie’s mouth water.

Two hours later, and after several more courses, including gnocchi, osso bucco, salad, fruit, and cheese, his gut was pushing at his belt. Halfway into the espresso and tiramisu, he thought he’d explode.

Not only had he eaten his fill two courses ago, he was itching to lay out his plan. Aka scam. But that wasn’t the way things were done. Paola was following strict Italian guidelines. A traditional feast before business.

Paola shook the silver bell. When Bettina rushed into the room, Paola pointed to Jax. “Bring out some pieces of osso bucco on a plate.”

Just what Jax needed. Spicy, sauce-laden meat. He’d be passing gas all night. Or worse. But if letting Paola feed his dog would earn him favor, Jamie would suffer through it.

Moments later, Bettina set a plate with hunks of meat in front of Jax’s nose. Jax lifted his head and sniffed, his nostrils flaring. Ignoring what had to be an expensive cut of meat, Jax put his head down and closed his eyes.

Paola frowned. “What dog doesn’t eat meat?”

“He’s had an upset stomach lately,” Jamie lied. In all likelihood, there were two reasons Jax had refused the food Paola had offered.

Given their patrol often included passenger terminals at JFK Airport, he’d taught Jax never to accept food from strangers. But Jamie would bet there was another reason. Even Jax had the common sense not to accept a gift from someone he didn’t like, and he definitely didn’t care for Paola Mancuso.

“Bettina!”