Texas Proud and Circle of Gold (Long, Tall Texans #52) - Diana Palmer Page 0,69

when all of you leave, is that all right?” Jessie asked them.

“Sure,” Glory said.

“I won’t be long,” she added, and smiled again. They were so gullible, she thought smugly as she left. Nobody suspected a thing.

* * *

Mikey was by himself while Paul and the man in the suit went into an office nearby. Jessie walked up to him.

“Hi,” she said breezily. “How’s it going? We heard about the engagement. Congratulations!”

He grinned. “Thanks.”

She sighed. “I know you’ll be happy with her.” She made a face. “It’s just, she was talking about your past, you know? I couldn’t help but overhear.”

He felt his face go taut. “About my past?”

“She’s such a straight arrow,” she continued. “It’s not surprising that she’d be upset when she knew your family had ties to organized crime. She said she gave her word and she’d keep it, but she didn’t know how she was going to live with a man who was accused of murder, a man who lived with other men who killed people without guilt.” She smiled sadly. “I’m really sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have mentioned it...”

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “Really.”

“She’d never tell you herself,” Jessie added. “She’s so sweet.” She grimaced. “It will be hard for her to get used to another way of life. But, hey, she’s young. She’ll adjust, right?”

“Right,” he said, but he didn’t look convinced.

She glanced at her watch. “Oops, I’ll be late getting back. I dropped by to see what Billie wanted for lunch. I’m bringing it to her.” She smiled at him. “I’ve got two uncles who worked for a local crime boss in New York,” she said. She shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with it. But some people, you know, they don’t quite understand the life. See you.”

“Yeah. See you.”

She walked toward Billie’s office, feeling proud. She’d just put the first stick in the spokes of his relationship with Bernie. She had him off balance. Now it was just a matter of keeping him that way for some people she and Billie knew.

The next step was to talk to Bernie and make a similar confession to her about Mikey. Funny how easy it was to make them believe things about each other. But she knew people like Mikey. He’d never ask Bernie directly if she’d said such things because he wouldn’t really want to know. He’d be afraid to hurt her feelings by accusing her of it, and of course she’d deny it—because it wasn’t true. But he’d have doubts. Big doubts. Jessie was going to make them even bigger.

Chapter Twelve

Mikey went back to San Antonio with Paulie to talk to the feds, and he was morose. Could Bernie feel that way about his lifestyle and not be willing to tell him? She’d certainly been shocked when he’d told her about the man who’d killed Paulie’s family. Well, he hadn’t confessed that he’d ordered the hit—although he had. What he’d told her was enough to shock her, even without that. Had he been too truthful? Maybe he should have waited until they knew each other much better before he confessed just how full of violence and turmoil his life had been.

“Sari ever have a problem with your past?” he asked his cousin, who was driving them in a Bucar, the designation of a bureau vehicle used by the FBI.

Paul frowned. “Well, she wasn’t overjoyed, if that’s what you mean. She’s an assistant district attorney, you know. A real straight arrow. I guess it bothered her some, but she loved me enough not to let it matter. Why? Is Bernie having second thoughts? She told Sari the two of you just got engaged.”

“We did. But I told her a lot of it,” Mikey said quietly. “She’s got violence in her own past, something tragic. But hers was the result of an unbalanced relative. I’m not unbalanced. I’ve been a bad boy, Paulie. I’m not sure she can make a life with me, the way she is.”

“You should talk to her.”

“And say what? That I’ll change? That I’ll go straight and sell out my family? Fat chance, and you know why. You get in this racket for life. Nobody gets out except feet first.”

“Marcus Carrera did,” he was reminded.

“Yeah, Carrera. Well, he was a big fish and people were scared to death of him. Sure he got out. He always made his own rules. I’m not Carrera. I’m a small fry, compared to him.”

“You own a casino in Vegas,” Paul reminded him drily. “You drive