Mr. and Mrs. Rossi

“For arson,” the officer said calmly.

“Arson?” Harley’s neck ached from the whiplash when she did a double take. “What the hell do you mean arson?”

“A neighbor called in some suspicious activity going on this morning.”

Harley hadn’t been back to Villa San Juan in forever. She had no idea who the neighbors were. Who was this Good Samaritan? “What neighbor?”

“He wants to remain anonymous, but he said this place has remained empty for years minus the housekeeping and gardening. Last night someone had a full rage party. He witnessed a girl trying to break in this afternoon and he called us when his wife smelled gas. Cops caught her down the beach.”

“Why would she break into her own house?” Harley asked, and then remembered not seeing the beach house keys on the key ring.

“Ma’am, I arrived a few moments ago after we secured the building. We had no idea there was a bomb in the house.

The word bomb caused a blast of pain in the pit of Harley’s stomach. Was Javier inside? Had Hannah been hurt? Tai approached at the bit of details the officer shared. “Where is Hannah now?”

“She was taken to the station and booked this afternoon.”

“I still don’t understand what proof you have?” Harley stated. Cases were no place for emotions. But this was more than a case—this was her niece they were talking about. Hannah was family. Hannah came to the house in search of Javier. Obviously, so did Leonardo.

“Harley,” Tai tugged at the crook of her elbow. “Let’s go.”

“Ma’am, what about your house?”

Harley looked back, “Put the fire out.”

****

“Not a word,” Dante grumbled at the sight of Roman pulling up to the docks in his Monte Carlo. At least this time he didn’t have to wait three hours for him to show up.

Roman’s shoulders shook with laughter. “So how many times are you going to have to be kicked to the curb to realize she doesn’t want you?”

“She wants me,” Dante said getting into the passenger’s side. By the time Tai’s crew got their heads out of their asses and quit stalling, Dante landed on shore close to dusk.

“Whatever. There’s a fire explosion at a beach house and an unnamed girl around the age of eighteen was brought into custody to the police station.”

“Hannah?” Dante’s gut told him the kid was in trouble. Leonardo liked to toy with his victims. He’d taken away everything Javier loved to get close to him. What he needed to do was get Hannah isolated to draw out Javier. It wouldn’t surprise him if he or his goons were already on their way to the local jail. That’s where they needed to go.

Like any small town jail in a vacation area, the waiting room was filled with various patrons dressed in flip-flops, cut off shorts, and arm-bands from last night’s party. Most people sat in a drink tank for twelve hours. A woman sat behind a glass counter directing people. Dante made his way to the counter and spotted a screen next to the woman’s beige phone. The monitor held six split screen black and white shots. By the time he figured out the top three were of the outside of the jail, the hall and the visiting area, the screen blipped and went fuzzy, perhaps an effect of the weather, if the weather weren’t perfect outside. The screen flipped back on and the bottom three screens angled the jailer’s side of the visiting room and the exit door and then the outside area.

Dante wasn’t sure how the blue eye shadowed woman with the beehive hairdo would react to him. Before setting his hands on the counter, he reached into his pocket for the gold band he’d strangely been carrying around with him. The ring on his left hand clicked against the cold counter. When Dante cleared his throat, under the heavily painted lids, her dark eyes rolled in his direction and then lit up as she took in his physique, starting from his torso, to his chest, and then to his face. Her chest rose, bottom lip poked out in approval. In desperate situations, he wasn’t above lowering himself to crack open the ten thousand watt smile to get what he needed. Women did it all the time. And women seemed to go for Dante’s feathered black hair and half grown beard.

“How can I help you?”

“Good afternoon,” he said with an easy smile. “How you doin’ today?”

Before smiling appreciatively, giving him another once-over, the woman licked her red lips and smiled. A piece of her broccoli wedged between her front teeth exposed what she had for lunch. Dante hesitated, trying to decide if he should make her aware. He licked his front teeth and darted his eyes toward her white Styrofoam dish. Without pointing or saying a word, Dante wagged his tongue on his tooth giving her the hint. Through the caked on makeup, she blushed a deeper shade of crimson over her roughed cheeks.

“My God. Gracias. I’ve been sitting here all afternoon. Lord, how many folks have I spoken to today?” she scowled over the counter at the busy waiting room before turning her back on Dante while she fiddled with the a mirror of some sort from her brown purse by her feet. When she finished the dental check, the woman offered Dante a bright smile. “Baby, what can I help you with?”

“My niece, I believe she was brought in here this morning.”

“Name?”

“Dante, Dante Rossi.”

“Italian?” The lady mused with a raised brow of approval. “But I meant your niece’s name.”

“Hannah,” Dante paused and tried to think of her last name, “Tomasello,”