Her Mistletoe Protector

Margie let out a bark of laughter. “Yep. Bought and paid for by Frankie,” she bragged. “Do you want something to drink? I have coffee and soft drinks.”

“No thanks. I really hope you don’t mind us just dropping in like this,” she said, before Nick could respond. “It’s just I need to find Frankie and I was hoping you’d know where he was.”

“Have a seat,” Margie said, waving at them as she dropped into a recliner. “What do you want with Frankie?”

Rachel’s mouth went dry and she wished she’d agreed to take something to drink. “It’s nothing major, I just need to ask him a few questions.”

“Ms. Caruso, do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Nick asked, interrupting them.

“No problem, it’s down the hall to your right,” Margie said, waving in the general direction.

Rachel figured Nick was trying to give them some time alone, most likely thinking that Margie might open up more if he wasn’t sitting there. She stared down at her hands for a minute trying to figure out a way to get Margie to speak openly about Frankie. “Last I heard, Frankie was in Phoenix,” she said in a low voice. “I should tell you that I’ve received some threatening letters and phone calls.” She glanced up, trying to assess Margie’s reaction. “I guess I couldn’t help wondering if your ex might be involved.”

Margie let out a sigh. “I highly doubt Frankie’s entangled in something like that,” she said without hesitation. “It’s not really his style.”

“What is his style?” Rachel pressed. “I divorced Anthony a long time ago, so how do I know Frankie’s not holding some sort of grudge against me?”

Margie tapped one long, lacquered nail against the end table. “Frankie has been splitting his time between Phoenix and Chicago, but I can’t imagine he’s holding the divorce against you. Why would he? Our divorce wasn’t that big of a deal.”

The news that Frankie Caruso could be right now in Chicago made her pulse race with a mixture of dread and excitement. Frankie had to be the one behind Joey’s kidnapping...it was the only thing that made sense. “I have to tell you, I admired how you and Frankie seemed to get along, even after your divorce,” Rachel said.

“Yes, well, we had some business ventures together, which helped,” Margie replied evasively. Rachel tried not to show her distaste—certainly, those business ventures were likely Mafia related.

“Like I said, it’s just amazing that you both managed to stay friends,” Rachel added. “Obviously, that wasn’t exactly the case with me and Anthony.”

“I know. Anthony wasn’t shy about telling us how upset he was at how you managed to keep him from your son.” Margie’s gaze was challenging, as if daring Rachel to disagree.

The mention of Joey kicked her pulse into high gear. So Frankie and Margie knew about Joey. Knew that she’d kept Anthony away from his son. Was this the motive behind the kidnapping? A way to show her the power of the Caruso name?

“Me and Frankie didn’t have kids,” Margie continued, clearly oblivious to Rachel’s spinning thoughts. “I guess it was a good thing, considering how we didn’t stay together.”

Rachel couldn’t decide if Margie was putting on an act for her benefit or not. She didn’t dare glance at her watch, even though Nick had been gone for what seemed like a really long time. She didn’t want Margie to wonder where he was, either. “I guess maybe you’re right,” she murmured. “Divorce is much easier without fighting over kids.” Before the other woman could ask anything more, Rachel quickly changed the subject. “Are you going to see Frankie anytime soon?”

Margie’s eyebrows lifted. “Maybe. Why?”

Flustered, Rachel strove to keep her tone light and casual. “I thought maybe you could just mention to him that I’d like to talk to him. If he has some time. Nothing urgent...”

Margie stared at her for a long moment, as if trying to gauge what Rachel really wanted. “Yeah, sure. I might see him. Maybe you should give me your phone number so that he has it if he wants to get in touch with you.”

“Of course. Do you have a pen and paper handy?”

Margie rose to her feet at the same moment Nick walked back into the room. “Wait here for a minute.”

After their hostess left the room, she looked at Nick. “Well?” she asked in a low voice.

“Nothing,” he murmured with a slight shake of his head.