Speak Low Read online

  By the time he pulled up, I was fuming again.

  I got into the Packard, and the familiar interior gave my surging temper a boost. After slamming the door, I slapped his face. Hard.

  “How could you? This car was a wedding present from her father? You fucked me in the front seat!”

  Enzo held a hand to his cheek and grimaced. “You didn’t have any complaints at the time.”

  “Because I didn’t know, Enzo! And this necklace—ugh, take it back!” I unclasped it and threw it at him, then I crossed my arms and thumped back against the seat. “I don’t even know what I’m doing in here right now. I must be crazy.”

  He set the necklace aside and reached for my hand. I snatched it back, but he took it again. “Listen to me. You’re not crazy. You’re here for the same reason I am—I can’t stay away from you, no matter how much I want to.”

  Something occurred to me. “You knew. You knew that night that you were going to marry her next weekend, and you lied to me.”

  “I said I was trying to get out of it, and I am. But I had to agree to marry her, Tiny. The club was low on booze and I have a business to run. But listen—it’s all gonna be OK, I know it. I won’t have to marry her.”

  I looked at him incredulously. “And why not?”

  “Because I’ll be able to pay off Meloni with the cash I’m getting from all the opium. That plus what the club brings in this week, now that I’ve got good booze to sell.”

  I shifted in my seat to face him. “And what makes you think you’re getting all the opium again? I’m still confused about that part.”

  “I’ll tell you. But first…your surprise.” He dropped my hand and pulled away from the curb. I sat ramrod straight, wanting as little of my body as possible to touch any part of this car.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as Enzo drove north on Woodward toward Grand Circus Park.

  “You’ll see.”

  In a few minutes Enzo pulled up at the ritzy Statler Hotel, and my temper flared again. If he thought we were going to enjoy a quick romp here, he was mistaken. “A hotel? That’s what you wanted to show me?” I set my jaw. “Well, you can forget it. I’m not going to a hotel room with you.”

  “It’s not a hotel room. Just trust me, OK?”

  “No.”

  Enzo sighed as attendants rushed to open the passenger door. I was tempted to refuse to get out of the car, but figured that would embarrass me more than Enzo, so I allowed the uniformed man to help me out. He led me underneath an awning, where I waited with tapping toes and a scowl for Enzo to give instructions for parking the Packard. In a moment he took me by the elbow, and we entered the lobby.

  My bottom lip dropped open. I couldn’t help but be awed by the sheer size and splendor of the hotel. One of my secret dreams was to travel to big cities and stay in romantic, luxurious places like this. My childhood scrapbook was filled with advertisements and post cards from lavish hotels whose lobbies looked just like the one before me. Now that I was actually inside one, I felt like a child again, small and wide-eyed and dazzled by the opulence.

  The room ran the entire width of the hotel and was two stories tall. The night air had been hot and humid but inside the lobby was cool and airy. Gooseflesh broke out on my arms, and I was instantly sorry I had not worn gloves, both for modesty and for warmth. As we crossed the marble floor, our heels clicking elegantly, I craned my neck and looked around. The wall facing the park had five huge arched windows and opposite these were balconies with wrought iron railings. The cavernous space was mostly empty of people at this late hour, but still I chewed my lip and dropped my eyes to my clothing. The dress I’d so loved for its daring earlier tonight seemed inappropriate here in the well-lit luxury of the Statler Hotel lobby. Enzo sensed my discomfort and put an arm around me.

  “You’re a vision,” he whispered in my ear.

  “I—I’m…just a little bit chilled,” I stuttered. Warily I eyed the five huge chandeliers looming over my head.

  He squeezed my arm, and I thought he might offer me his coat, but he didn’t.

  Maybe there’s a rule about men’s dress, I thought. In which case there may be one about women’s dress as well, and I doubted my bare shoulders would pass muster. Along the east wall was a massive oak counter, from behind which two pairs of eyes watched us intently. I glanced at Enzo, but he didn’t appear concerned, not even bothering to look their way. We walked by potted palms and elegant spindly-legged furniture toward the back of the room, where a short corridor led to a bank of four elevators book-ended by two marble-lined staircases.

  As we waited for a car, I kept my legs pressed tightly together and tried to keep my knees from knocking. Precisely what had me so nervous was hard to say. Was I afraid that I wouldn’t be able to fend him off if he tried something? Was I scared that my willpower wouldn’t be enough to resist his physical overtures? Or was there, beneath it all, an actual fear for my safety? After all, no one knew where I was, and I was allowing a man I knew to be obsessed with power and control to lead me to an undisclosed part of a huge hotel.

  “Enzo,” I began nervously. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. Maybe if—”

  “Hush now, darling.” The elevator car arrived and the doors opened before us. He nudged me in front of him, took me by the arms where he’d grabbed me before and whispered in my ear. “You and I have never been a good idea.” He steered me into the car and told the operator to take us to the ninth floor.

  As the elevator began to ascend, Enzo kept his hands on me. We stood behind the operator, who kept his eyes on the doors in front of him, and a few seconds into the ride, Enzo’s right hand slid from my arm across my chest, slowly, possessively. His palm, fingers spread wide, came to rest on my left breast, and he snaked his left arm across my stomach, pulling me back against him.

  “I want you.” His lips formed the words right at my ear, barely a whisper. He was hard already, his solid erection pressing into the small of my back.

  Oh, God.

  This might be more difficult than I thought.

  Gina. Wedding. Packard. Secrecy. Lies. I reminded myself of the myriad reasons I had to be angry with Enzo, and it worked. When the doors opened, he released me and I stepped out of the car. He followed me into the hall, and when the elevator doors closed, he reached for me again.

  “No.” I held up one palm toward him. “First, tell me what we’re doing here.”

  “All right. Follow me.”

  I trailed him down a long carpeted corridor, passing doors on both sides. He finally stopped at a set of double doors straight ahead of us and pulled a key from his pocket. After unlocking the door on the left, he pushed it open and gestured for me to enter first. “After you.”

  I walked into a dark room, but a moment later Enzo flipped a switch and an overhead light came on. As he shut the door, I moved deeper into an elegantly furnished parlor with a large window opposite the door. I went to it and pushed the filmy white curtains aside, peering down onto Grand Circus Park. Spinning around, I took in the sofa and chair upholstered in gold and brown stripes, the end tables and their lamps dripping with rust-colored fringe, and the low coffee table, upon which sat an amber glass ashtray. The carpet felt thick under my feet.

  “Well, what do you think?” Enzo asked.

  “Is this your apartment?” A glance to my left revealed another doorway, through which I glimpsed the shadowy outline of a double bed.

  “It was.” He walked toward me and I backed into the windowsill. When he reached me, pressing his body flush against mine, he leaned back slightly at the waist and dangled the key between us. “Now it’s your apartment.”

  “My apartment!”

  “Mmhm.” He braced his hands behind me and I leaned back. His face hovered above mine, and I looked at his lips. They weren’t as full or sensuous as Joey’s, but their fine edges and sharp peaks were beautiful, and he was an expert at using them on my body. My insides heated up quickly, and when he lowered his mouth to mi
ne, I let him kiss me. But I didn’t put my arms around him, and I kept my lips closed.

  “Want to see the bedroom?” He toyed with the straps of my dress.

  “No.” I elbowed my way out of his reach and put some distance between us.

  Sighing, he faced me with an exasperated look on his face.

  “Don’t give me that look, Enzo. I’m still angry with you. I only came here to hear what you have to say about Joey.”

  He pressed his lips together. “Why are you always so worried about him?”

  “Because he’s my friend, and I dragged him into this mess to begin with.”

  “Really. You instructed him to hijack those trucks and later advised him to steal the opium from the load?”

  “No, but…”

  “Lupo’s a grown man, Tiny. He makes his own decisions, and now he’s got another one to make.”

  An alarm pinged in my head. “About what?”

  “Come into the bedroom and I’ll tell you.”

  I scowled at him. “You’re impossible.”

  Enzo smiled and disappeared into the bedroom, and I followed a moment later when he switched on a lamp. The room was even more impressive than the parlor, with two big windows on the left, a large closet with a full mirror on the door, and a private bathroom with a claw-footed tub. The bed, with its scarlet-hued spread and curvy high-backed frame, looked especially inviting. And it wasn’t just because I could imagine myself and Enzo naked underneath that coverlet, although that was easy to do—I was exhausted.

  “All right. I’m in here. Now tell me.”

  He took my purse from me and laid it on a chair in the corner. “Do you like the apartment?”

  I loved it, but there was no way I would live here at his beck and call. Not when he had a wife living with him somewhere else.

  I turned away from him. “I’m not doing anything else until you talk.”

  “You don’t have to do anything,” he murmured, coming up behind me. He brushed my hair off the back of my neck and rubbed his lips on my nape. His breath sent shivers down my spine, and I willed myself to be strong, even though it felt so good. He kissed his way down one side of my neck and slipped one strap from my shoulder. “I simply told him…” He kissed that shoulder. “That I had some information…” He slipped the other strap from my shoulder and pressed his lips there too. “I thought he’d be interested in.” He brought his hands to my shoulders and trailed his fingers down the insides of my arms. “Interested enough to trade for the opium.”

  “What kind of information?” I whispered, my arms tingling.

  He bracketed my hips with his hands and pulled me into him. “Well,” he said, bending at the knee to grind against me before whispering in my ear, “I know who killed his father.”

  Chapter Nine

  I wrenched myself from Enzo’s grasp and stumbled forward. “What did you say?” Pulling the straps of my dress back on my shoulders, I stared at him in disbelief.

  “I know who killed his father,” he repeated, as if we were discussing the weather. “I know who pulled the trigger outside the station and I know who ordered the hit on Big Leo that killed him.”

  “But—but how?”

  “Nobody keeps a secret for that long in this business. It’s been a few years now—eventually you find someone disgruntled with a particular faction and willing to talk, for the right price, of course.”

  “Of course.” My mind was spinning. I knew how badly Joey wanted to find out who’d killed his father—he’d just told me so when we were on the roof. Undoubtedly he’d give up the drugs to know who pulled the trigger. But would he stab Angelo in the back? “So…so did you tell him?”

  “No. I simply told him I had the information. If he wants the details, he’ll have to decide what they’re worth.” He moved toward me again, but I backed up.

  “Just wait.” I put my hands out. “I’m a little flustered right now.”

  “I like you flustered.” He kept coming at me and I thought he might back me right into the closet but instead he swept me off my feet and carried me over to the bed.

  “Enzo, please.”

  He set me down and slipped my shoes off. “Please what? I’ll do anything you want me to.” Running a hand up one leg, he paused at different places—my knee, my thigh, and finally my hip. “I’ll kiss you here. And here. And especially here.” He slipped his fingers inside the loose edge of my step-in and brushed them against my tingling skin.

  Oh, God. He was so handsome and the room was so beautiful and the bed was so inviting and I knew it would feel so good, but—

  “No.” I pushed his hand away, brought my knees together, and propped myself up on my elbows. “I’m not doing this with you. You’re about to marry some other girl, and—”

  “Jesus!” he exploded, pounding a fist into the bed. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not going to fucking marry her!”

  “You lie!” I shouted through gritted teeth. “You’re always telling me just what I want to hear and nothing that’s actually true. Until you prove to me that you’re not stashing me in this apartment just so your wife won’t see us together, we’re not doing this.”

  He eyed me angrily. “You knew about her last time we did it. And you knew we had to keep our time together a secret. What’s changed?”

  “I don’t know!” I yelled. “But something has.”

  “Within one week?”

  “Yes!”

  Enzo breathed deeply through his nose. “What the fuck do you want, Tiny?”

  I had no idea. What’s changed? It was a fair question, in a way—I had known he had a fiancée the last two times we’d slept together. True, I hadn’t known about the wedding date, but if I was honest with myself, I had to admit there wasn’t much of a difference between sleeping with a man who had a fiancée, and sleeping with one who had a fiancée and a wedding date. Both were pretty despicable, separated perhaps by a scant few degrees of despicableness on the scale.

  “I don’t know, Enzo. I guess…I guess I’ll wait until next Saturday and see if you manage to dodge your own wedding. ” Slapping a hand over my face, I groaned. “God, that sounds so ridiculous.”

  “That’s a long time away, Tiny.” He trailed his fingers along my shin. “I don’t think I can wait that long. I don’t think you can, either.”

  “It’s one week, Enzo. You can’t go seven days without having sex?”

  “I just want you so badly.” He rubbed my hip, staring at his hand against the ivory material. “Can’t we come up with a different plan?”

  “No.” I got off the bed and located my heels on the floor. “We can’t.”

  “Is this about him?” He watched as I slipped my feet into my shoes.

  My cheeks flushed, and I bent over one leg as if I needed to concentrate on the buckle. “No.”

  “I don’t believe you. You have to decide, Tiny. You can’t be loyal to two people in this situation.”

  I straightened so quickly I got dizzy. “Ha! Look who’s talking!”

  “Gina means nothing to me. In fact, she annoys the hell out of me, and it’s pretty clear I am not loyal to her. I never claimed to be.”

  I bent and buckled the other shoe. When I straightened, Enzo was reaching for the lamp, and a second later the room went black. “I need my purse,” I said.

  He picked it up from the chair brought it to me. “Are you sure you won’t stay?” His voice was lilting and soft again. “I can come back later and stay with you. All night.”

  I felt a quick tug of arousal, but it disappeared at the thought of him coming straight from Gina’s side to my bed. “No. Not until I know for sure that you’re not going to marry her.”

  “How do I know for sure that you’re not fooling around with Lupo?” he asked testily. The light coming from the parlor illuminated only one side of his face, leaving the other half dark.

  “I’m not.”

  Silence. “I saw you dancing with him.”

  My stoma
ch flipped. “So what? It was just dancing. There’s nothing between us.”

  “What if I want you to prove it?”

  “How would I do that?”

  A smile appeared on his half-shadowed face. “By keeping a secret.”

  “What secret?”

  “This one: The gunman outside the prison was a hitman named Legs Putnam. And the hit was ordered by Sam Scarfone.”

  I gasped. “Sam Scarfone! But Big Leo was his uncle! Why would he do that?”

  “Because Big Leo was the boss. And if you don’t like the way things are being run, and you think you deserve more than you’re getting or you been screwed one too many times, that’s one way to fix it. Take him out.”

  “Oh my God.” I brought a hand to my mouth.

  “It was especially smart because Scarfone must have known everyone would blame Provenzano, since that was the big rivalry at the time. But it backfired, because none of the old guard under Big Leo wanted to take orders from pissant Sam and his hot-headed buddies.”

  That part wasn’t new to me—Joey had told me about Sam and his friends leaving the Scarfone faction to start the River Gang. He’d known some of them from school and thought they were decent guys just doing what they could to make a buck.

  I swallowed hard. “But…it was family.”

  Enzo shrugged. “Sometimes blood is cheaper than whisky.”

  #

  Out of the apartment. Down the hall. Into the elevator. Through the lobby. Under the awning. One thought held my mind hostage the entire time.

  I know who killed Joey’s father.

  And I couldn’t tell him.

  Could I?

  No. Stay out of this.

  As the attendant pulled up in the Packard, Enzo put his hand on my arm. “I need to see someone at the desk a moment. Just wait in the car, OK?”

  Another attendant opened the passenger door for me and I got in, my earlier distaste at riding in the wedding gift eclipsed by my anxiety over the information I now had. I knew exactly why Enzo had told me—he wasn’t sure he could trust me and this was the test. Enzo wanted to see if I would run to Joey with the knowledge of who killed his father, which would mean I was loyal to Joey over him. Not that I had any guarantee Enzo had given me the truth—when had he ever done that? Giving me false information was just as effective a test as giving me the real names.