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Would she stay here? Did anyone need an inexperienced candymaker trying to create a new life for herself while a mobster loan shark and the federal government tried to hunt her down?
How had her life become such a freaking drama?
She’d led a fairly sheltered existence growing up, especially being an only child, even though her mother had died when she was in grade school, and her father was gone before she’d barely finished high school.
There had not been much in the way of inheritance so she’d gotten a job, or three, to make ends meet.
A couple of years ago she’d seen a movie about a woman opening a chocolate store in a small village. She’d read up on candy making and found her passion. Working two jobs waitressing had allowed her to go to a local culinary school run by a chef who’d made a name for himself and then come back to the place he grew up to give back.
Lilianna had been fortunate enough to learn the basics about candy making from him. She’d been planning to open her own shop one of these days and had continued waitressing as much as possible to save up. At least until Mick’s funeral had sped up her plan to leave town.
She was brought out of her reverie when the final message started and promptly put her in a further tailspin after the man’s greeting. It was from Mick’s bookie, Herbert. The guy he’d made the foolish sure thing bet with. How had this man gotten her number and what did he want?
She certainly hoped he wasn’t due any money. The loan shark was bad enough. The urgent-sounding message was cryptic at best, but Herbert insisted above all else that she needed to call him when she got his voice mail.
It was just after six in the morning. She should probably wait…like until the end of time. Although, Herbert the bookie wasn’t as scary of a proposition as Sammy the loan shark. Still, how had he gotten her number?
Lilianna didn’t want to call Mick’s bookie but feared she’d lose her nerve if she didn’t do it now. Curiosity drove her to dial. A glance at the bathroom door, knowing she was safely tucked away with two fierce men at her beck and call, helped make the decision a little easier.
“Hello,” said a sleepy voice.
“This is Lilianna Brenner. You left me a message. Said it was urgent that I called you back night or day. So I’m calling. What do you want?”
“Yes. This is Herbert. I have something…sort of for Mick, but probably it’s yours now since he’s gone. God rest his soul.”
“What is it?” Lilianna didn’t trust this guy for a minute.
There was a long pause at the end of the line. She thought they’d been cut off, until he finally said, “I can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t.” Really didn’t trust him.
“Same difference. When can you come here? We need to meet in person.”
“I’m out of town. I wasn’t planning on returning, ever.”
“Well, you’ll have to. We need to resolve this.” Crap. Mick did owe him money. Lilianna closed her eyes wishing for a simplicity in life that had so far eluded her.
“Says who? What if I don’t want to return?”
“Now don’t be obstinate, Miss Brenner.”
“Listen to me. I’m not coming back. There’s nothing back there for me but trouble.”
He seemed to huff and puff over the phone, apparently trying to think of a way to convince her. Unfortunately, he came up with a good reason. “If you don’t come and visit me in the next week, I’ll have to contact Sammy about this. I don’t think you want that, do you?”
Crap. This just went from bad to worse. She didn’t need to give Sammy any more incentive to chase her down. She still hadn’t dealt with all the concerns from last night. They’d all been too tired to talk, but she knew that fake Feds and furious fires would be on the breakfast agenda.
“Fine,” she said without enthusiasm. “Give me your address.” Without knowing what in the world he was talking about, she decided she’d take a couple prime bodyguards with her to Herbert the bookie. If nothing else, she’d feel safer returning to her old stomping grounds accompanied. She could also pick up the storage box from her landlady.
