she searched him out, a look of panic on her face.
“Tenth floor, Joey,” said Jack, stepping forward. That’s when he got a good look at the young man’s face— and raised an eyebrow in surprise. Because this face was one he recognized and didn’t like. “Or should I call you ‘Lucky Joe’?”
Lubrano’s face went pale. It was a face just as handsome as it had been ten years before. Dimpled chin, Roman nose, deep brown eyes, and jet-black hair slickly combed. He’d been a strong kid at seventeen, boxed with precision in the ring—with brutality in back alleys for dirty coin, a casino bouncer with a mean streak—and now his physique looked even bigger, its muscles packed into a short green jacket and striped black pants identical to Benny the doorman’s.
“What’s the matter, kid?” asked Jack. “Looks like you saw a ghost.”
“Who are you?” Lubrano’s hands clenched into fists. “I don’t know you, do I?”
“Steady, kid,” said Jack. “I’m a friend of Emily’s, that’s all you need to know. A good friend. And I’ll be taking care that she’s in good health from now on and no harm comes to her. Get me?”
Jack watched Lubrano carefully. The kid’s brown eyes narrowed with fury on Emily. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something. And she did.
“Tenth floor.”
“You heard the lady. Let’s go,” said Jack.
Jack could see the moment’s confusion in Lubrano’s face, the consideration of what to do. Jack pushed the point; stepping forward, he put his large, strong form between the young ex-boxer and Emily.
When they were fully inside the elevator car, the inside aviator’s routine took over. Lubrano’s white-goved hand slid the heavy cage shut, pressed the tenth-floor button, then pushed the lever on the machine. The motor coughed to life and the car slowly ascended.
The tense silence held for three floors and then Lubrano turned, studied Jack’s face—
“How do you know me?”
“I know you. That’s all,” said Jack.
Joey Lubrano’s dark eyes narrowed. The boxer’s muscles were clenching, the fists forming balls.
“Steady,” said Jack. “I’m a private eye. I got a license to carry.”
Joey glared at Emily again with pure fury, then he spun away, giving them his broad back until the tenth floor. When the cage opened, Jack put his body between Lubrano and Emily again, seeing that she got off without a hitch. But as they stepped down the hallway toward Emily’s apartment door, Joey lunged out of the car.
“Wait just a second!” he said, reaching for Emily’s arm.
She yelped as Joey grabbed her, and Jack reacted, swinging a hard right hook to the handsome kid’s face. He went down holding his bloodied nose, and Jack hustled Emily forward—because he knew the kid wouldn’t stay down long.
“Let’s go—into your apartment
Her hands shaking, Emily fumbled for a key and opened the door.
“Pack,” said Jack quietly, when she’d closed and bolted it behind them. “Take only what you need. I’m taking you out of here tonight.”
CHAPTER 7
The alarm went off with a racket that jerked me out of a wild dream and left me standing on the rug, shaking like a kitten in a dog kennel.
“MOM! YOU DIDN’T tell me I got
It was clear that he’d been waiting to ambush me with that information the minute I crawled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. For a moment or two after I’d opened my eyes, I wasn’t sure what decade I was in— Jack’s dream had seemed that real. I shoved on my black-framed glasses, saw my son looking up at me with imploring eyes, and I was fully back to focusing on reality.
“Can I open the letter now?”
I managed a weak smile as I smoothed back my mussed auburn hair and pulled it into a ponytail. “Of course you can, honey. It’s addressed to you, isn’t it?”
I slipped around my son and lunged for the coffee my aunt had made before she went downstairs to open the shop. I was hoping the brew wasn’t too old and bitter, though at the moment I had too desperate a need for caffeine to care one way or another.
Spencer dropped back down in his chair at the kitchen table and tore at the expensive stationery. The beige fauxparchment envelope addressed to “Calvin Spencer McClure, Esquire” had arrived yesterday, courtesy of Seymour Tarnish. The mail had arrived while my son was at Friday day camp, so he hadn’t noticed the letter until this morning.
I’d seen the invitation, with the hand-stamped “M” on the back flap, and felt a shudder of dread. My in-laws, the patriarchs and matriarchs of the McClure clan, were summoning the rest of the scattered family members for their annual “gala reunion.” The gathering was a massive affair—an obligatory dynastic retreat worthy of an Aaron Spelling miniseries.
Supposedly staged for the “immediate family,” there were usually so many guests in attendance that it seemed like everyone in the United States with a McClure in their name and a trust fund worth a cool million was obliged to attend.
The reunion was held at Windswept, the manor house that once belonged to my late husband’s parents, but which passed to Ashley McClure-Sutherland upon her mother’s wishes, after Calvin’s death.
As the Widow McClure—and not a particularly popular widow with the rest of the clan—I dreaded the reunion as much as my son looked forward to it.
“So what interests you in the events schedule?” I asked, feigning interest for Spence’s sake. “Clowns? Pony rides?”
Spencer made a face. “Clowns and pony rides? Nuts to that, Mom. That’s kiddie stuff!”
He continued to read the glossy brochure that came with the invitation and his eyes went wide. “Wow! They’re going to have a paintball game!”
“Paintball?” I shook my head. “That sounds dangerous. And I’m sure it’s restricted to the older crowd.”
“Mom. I’m
“We’re gonna go, aren’t we?”
“Of course we are,” I replied. The real invitation had actually come weeks ago, and I’d already responded in the affirmative. Spencer’s missive was simply an events schedule for the younger members of the McClure clan.
Grinning, Spencer deposited his bowl and spoon in the sink. “I’m going to watch
“But didn’t you see that same show last night?”
“I fell asleep before the end and I didn’t see who the bad guy was. Lucky for me, they’re repeating the same show this morning.”
“All right, but you better be ready to go in an hour when your ride to day camp gets here.”
“I know!”
