Lucky Charm (Lucky 1)

Sharon squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze. If he was her blackmailer, he already knew that not only did she plan to marry Richard, but also that he was running for mayor. “My fiancé,” she said, still giving him some leeway.

“Well, I’ll tell you what I told your friends. I didn’t keep the photographs. The cops took them all and there’s no way you’re pinning any trouble you have now on me.”

Sharon hated herself for thinking it, but she almost believed him. The arrogant man she remembered was gone. In his place stood a beaten man who appeared content to live his life simply. He looked too scared of being connected to the photographs to have taken the risk again. Then again, he’d been a good liar once before.

“I hope you realize they’re harsher on repeat offenders if you’re lying,” Richard said.

“Hey, don’t make assumptions you can’t prove.”

Sharon glanced over. A muscle throbbed in Richard’s temple, a sure sign he was holding back his anger and disgust at Tony. This time she squeezed his hand to calm him down.

“Listen, all I want to know is how someone could have gotten ahold of one of the photos,” Richard asked in a controlled voice.

“And I’m telling you the police have them all.”

Sharon gripped the fence harder. “Tony, you have a family you want to protect. I understand that. But if I don’t find out who’s blackmailing me, I won’t ever have a family. Don’t I deserve that chance? Don’t you think you owe me at least that?” she asked, her voice rising.

Tony exhaled hard.

“Honey, don’t you think you should tell her?” The woman from the sandbox walked up beside him, holding the child in her arms.

Tony stiffened.

“Tell me what?”

The brunette put her hand on his shoulder. “A few months ago, Tony got an anonymous phone call.”

“What did they want?” Richard asked before Sharon could.

Tony groaned. “The same thing you do. The person wanted to know if I had copies of the pictures.”

“All the pictures?” Sharon asked. “Of all the women?”

He shook his head. “Just you.”

She winced. “And what did you say?”

He slung an arm over the fence. “Again, I told them what I told the rest of you. I have no damn photos. The cops took everything.”

“Why keep this to yourself?” Richard asked. “Why didn’t you just admit it to us when we asked?”

He rolled his eyes. “For one thing, I didn’t know those friends of yours from Adam, so I wasn’t telling them anything.”

“And me? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because…” He leaned closer to them, whispering the rest. “The person who called me was an ex-con I’d met in prison. He was trying to make a buck by getting his hands on those pictures for someone and selling them. I’m not supposed to have contact with anyone I met in the joint. And I don’t intend to violate my parole and screw up my life again.”

Richard nodded slowly, seemingly more satisfied with this answer. “What’s the guy’s name? The one you met in prison?”

Tony kicked at the dirt in front of him. Obviously he didn’t want to get any more involved than he already was.

“Stan. Stan Mancusi,” the woman beside him said softly.

“Calls himself Stan the Man,” Tony muttered. “He’s into petty shit. Anything to make a buck. And he’s local,” he added grudgingly. “You can probably find him in any one of the seedier bars on the docks in Salem.”

“Thank you,” Sharon said.

Tony shrugged. “Felicia’s right. I owe you,” he said without meeting her gaze.