to its normal timbre. “I’d take a philanderer any day of the week over your brand of chivalry, Peter.”
Peter moved back a little bit on his stool and regarded me, only slightly amused. “Well.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I like you, Alison. I always have. Maybe too much. At least that’s what my wife says.” He looked down, almost ashamed at the admission. “But I’m afraid that this must be good-bye.”
“God, if only,” I said, turning back around on my stool to face the dessert case again. I put my hands on either side of my face and looked down, my eyes closed. “Please, Peter. Please leave me alone. We have nothing to bind us anymore. Not Kathy, not the case, not Ray. They’re gone and the case is over.” I removed his hand from my knee. In the brief instant where our fingers touched, he wrapped his around mine and squeezed. “We may meet again when I testify against you in the trial for Ray’s murder, but if they don’t get you, then we’ll never have to see each other again.”
He looked sad. “You never understood what I was about. I wanted to help you. I wanted to pay you back for all of your help. For solving Kathy’s murder. I wanted to put us all out of our misery.”
“I always understood what you were about, even in college. You’re about intimidation and hurting people. You’re about ‘the family.’ You are the most despicable person I’ve ever met.” When I thought about how he had probably killed Ray, I felt tears pressing at the backs of my eyes, a lump growing in my throat. “You kill people. You killed Ray. And God knows who else. I hope you rot in hell.”
He studied my face for a minute before putting his hand behind my head and pulling me close. He surprised me by tilting his head and putting his lips on mine, holding them there for several long seconds. The kiss was gentle, not grotesque, and nauseating all at the same time. Anybody watching us would have seen two people engaged in a tender yet passionate kiss, a couple who had to show their love for each other.
I pulled back from him and let the tears flow freely. I looked around to see if anyone was watching us, but nobody was. It was as if we didn’t exist and nothing had happened. My lips were numb and I hoped they would stay that way. Peter caressed my cheek and looked at me sadly until I finally broke his gaze and looked away. I took a bunch of napkins from the holder and placed them over my eyes, trying to compose myself; I was shaking with anger, but the sobs were from sadness. After a few minutes, I took the napkins off and looked around.
Peter was gone.
Chapter 24
Before going home, I stopped in at the local pharmacy and bought the biggest bottle of Listerine that I could carry. The memory of Peter Miceli lingered on my lips and I thought some noxious, alcohol-based mouthwash was precisely what the doctor ordered.
I wended my way home, feeling a little nauseous. If Gianna didn’t like that Peter had brought me biscotti, what would she say if she found out that we had kissed? I didn’t even want to entertain the thought of how she would react. I flashed back to the destruction she had wrought at Maloney’s all those years ago and shuddered.
I walked up the driveway and was just about to enter the house when a voice called out my name.
“Hi, Mrs. Bergerson!”
I turned and looked across the street and saw a strapping young lad, about sixteen or seventeen, calling to me from his front lawn. I had seen him around but didn’t know his name. I assumed he was the bellows-challenged Bagpipe Kid. He ran across the street and deposited himself on my front lawn, a six-foot-two bundle of energy.
“Hi!” I said with extra enthusiasm, making up for the fact that I had no name to go with the greeting; I’ve lived here a long time and I should have known the kid’s name. He wasn’t offering and I wasn’t about to ask at this point in our relationship. He obviously, or sort of, knew my name.
“Can I take Trixie out?” he asked. He was a tall, gangly kid, with a pale face dotted with freckles. His red hair all grew forward and stuck up in places, but judging