Chapter 10

"Sabbatini."

"Uncle Paolo, we're eating birthday cake! Are you coming back soon?" demanded the twins.

In the background, Paolo heard his brothers' kids whooping it up, Roscoe barking, and his mother and grandmother attempting to impose order on the chaos.

"Not tonight. I'm still working."

"Why?" whined the girls.

Paolo sighed. "Somebody has to catch the bad guys and tonight that's me."

There was giggling and a bit of scuffling, then Angela came on the line. "Sorry , Paolo. I didn't realize they'd called your office. We'll save you some cake if you can't make it back."

"Thanks. You know my weakness for chocolate."

Another agent stuck his head around the corner, pointed at the phone, and mouthed, "Line two."

"Ange, I have another call coming in. I'll see you guys soon." He punched the flickering button and listened to his cop buddy, Ernesto.

"Qué pasa, Paolo? You pulling an all-nighter, too?"

"Looks that way. What have you got for me?"

"Couple of things. First, the neighbor who gave Natalie Jernigan the gun knocked over a gas station with a pal when they were just out of high school. Got maybe fifty dollars. Served some time, but as far as I can tell has been an upstanding citizen since then. Not even a parking ticket. No record of him having a handgun, so who knows where the old man picked it up. Maybe at a flea market. Plus, the serial number doesn't match any of our unsolved crimes. But I'd advise Mrs. Jernigan not to be waving that thing around in public."

"No shit," said Paolo.

"And that John Doe at the airport. Not your guy. He was positively identified through dental records and a class ring as a drug runner from Orlando. Tried to stiff another dude."

"Thanks, Ernesto. I owe you a beer."

"Hey, throw in a large pepperoni pizza and we'll call it even," laughed Ernesto.

"Won't your wife hassle you about your cholesterol?"

"Lourdes doesn't have to know. A man has to eat after all."

Paolo laughed. "Deal." He disconnected and leaned back in his chair. The info about the gun was a huge relief. Another weapon lay locked in the bottom desk drawer. The one he'd bought yesterday from local gunsmith Louie Arsenio. Louie thought law enforcement officers could never have too many firearms. He didn't question Paolo's story about needing another backup piece even though this one was smaller than the one currently strapped to Paolo's right ankle.

Paolo unlocked the drawer and examined the gun again. It should fit Natalie's grip better than that antique stashed in the trunk of her Lexus. But now he was having second thoughts. He needed to step back. He told himself it was only the male instinct to protect the innocent and the weaker sex. Any agent who gave a damn would feel the same way. But was it more? Paolo wasn't sure he had the answer to that question right now.

He rubbed the back of his neck and unknotted his tie, tossing it over the chair in the corner. He looked at the file on his desk. He'd been over it a hundred times. Maybe he'd wander down to the forensics lab to see if they'd uncovered any useful info from the items seized at Jernigan's storage unit.

He locked the gun in the drawer and headed down the hall. He stopped in the lounge to grab a cup of coffee. Of course, the pot was empty. He opened the cabinet to get a new packet and filter. As he waited for the coffee to drip through, he pulled out his cell phone, intending to check on Natalie.

He entered a couple of numbers, then paused. Better leave it alone. He snapped the phone together and stared at the coffee pot.

**

Natalie sprawled on the couch, the television remote in her right hand. Her eyes vaguely registered the images on the screen as she flipped through the channels. Spanish-language soap operas, annoying reality shows, news programs, weather programs, golf tournaments. How many channels did they have? One hundred, two hundred? Yet there was nothing of interest to watch.

Finally, she zapped off the television and tossed the remote on the coffee table. She wasn't interested in watching tv. She only wanted to distract herself from thoughts of Paolo. First, he shows up at the storage unit, then at the mall. What was the deal?

Suddenly, Natalie had a craving for ice cream, her favorite comfort food. She'd already been bad today by having a large cheeseburger and fries at the mall after Paolo left. Might as well go hog wild.

She slouched into the kitchen and jerked open the freezer side of the refrigerator. No ice cream! That simply would not do. She slammed the door and stomped through the mud room to the three-car garage where the freezer sat.

She paused with her hand on the freezer door, debating the merits of an ice cream sandwich over an ice cream cone with sprinkles. Or why not have one of each?!

This is crazy. I should be able to control myself better. Just when she'd decided to limit herself to one ice cream cone, there was a slight scraping sound behind her.