16. JOE TAGLIAFERRI

To improve is to change; to be perfect is to have changed often.

(Winston Churchill)

(Side By Side, Kay Starr)

Wednesday the 17th of May, Joe Tagliaferri parked his custom – Moto Guzzi California 1400 - a few meters away from Caffè Palermo. It was a bike from 2015, in optimal condition, the black paint proudly reflecting the spring sunlight. The man took off his helmet, revealing his straight blond hair. He hadn't shaved and the shade of a light stubble on his chiselled jaw, combined with the biker's clothes, gave him a wild look. To top it off, a small golden ring gleamed in his left lobe.

He confidently strode to the cafe, smiled at the waitress that was looking at him and took a place at the first outer table, which was the closest to his two-wheel jewel. As soon as he leaned back in the chair, the girl came over to greet him and get his order. Joe took off his aviators, showing off his sea-green eyes.

"Buongiorno a te, cara. Un espresso, per favore (Good morning to you, too, honey. One espresso, please)," he said in fluent Italian.

She gave him an amused look and a nod but she didn't move. Staring into his eyes, it took her a few seconds before she could get back to her senses and head into the cafe. Joe grabbed the newspaper left on the next table, pulled an empty chair closer, stretched his legs and laid his feet over it. Then, he started reading the news. When the girl came back with his coffee, she had mustered her courage enough to start up a conversation and trying to look cool, she picked up the talk. She was in her twenties, obviously much younger than him.

"Scusa, ma sei italiano? (Excuse me, are you Italian?)" she asked in a friendly way.

"My father." He kept his eyes on the paper, but a moment before she could leave again, he dropped it down and gave her a seductive glance.

Her lips parted slightly as she stared back.

"And what about you? Are you Italian?" he asked, putting on his cat-that-ate-the-canary smile.

"Y-yes...I mean, I was born in Italy but raised here," she replied tripping on her words, and then she shook her head. "Basically, I can't remember a thing about it," she sighed.

"What a shame. It's such a beautiful country," he spoke slowly in his confident, low voice. "I've been to Roma, Milano, Firenze and Venezia. The best part is the countryside though. In Tuscany, I took endless rides on those small roads, lost among the green hills." His eyes half-closed as if remembering the view, a smile hanging on his full lips. "Now and then some little village would show up with its brownstone houses and cobblestone alleys and silence all around. It felt like being centuries back in time."

The girl brought her eyes up to the sky and let out an ecstatic breath. He gave her the time to imagine him riding those roads on his bike, herself sitting on the back.

"By the way, I'm Joe."

He brought his legs back to the ground and offered her his right hand.

"Maria," she said slowly, her eyes trailing down to him.

After a moment of hesitation, she grabbed his hand and granted him a dazzling smile.

Maybe afraid of looking too cheesy, she immediately excused herself to check on the only other client, an old man with a white beard and gentle eyes. However, just a step before disappearing inside the café, she couldn't refrain from giving Joe another glance. He caught her in time and gifted her a seductive half smile.

He went back to his reading, but he hadn't finished his coffee or even reached the end of the article before she returned. Obviously, she wasn't as shy as he thought. And that would've made things much easier.

"Mind if we share?" she asked, nodding toward the table, her hands full with a tray.

"On the contrary, I'm very pleased," he answered with his lady-killer smile.

"Great, 'cause I still didn't have the time to get my breakfast," she justified it vaguely, then she placed the tray on the table and sat in front of him. Regardless of the fact that his boots rested on the same spot a few minutes before.

"Is this place yours?" he asked casually, looking around.

"It's my dad's." She cast a half worried glance to the inside. "You know, he's a little...possessive." She leaned toward him to whisper the last word but kept her eyes on the door. "He's sure to come and check on us, but I told him that you are Italian, so..." She turned back to him, with a since-you-are-Italian-you-know-what-I-mean wink.

Joe had leaned closer too and his greenish blue eyes were a few inches away from hers. She had long, rich lashes and big, sweet eyes—lush, dark chocolates garnished by the heavy makeup of a wannabe rock-star. She jerked back in surprise and then squinted at him. She definitely had the good-girl-turned-bad vibe. The kind of prey he liked the most.

"So, what time do you get off?" he asked nonchalantly.

"Why?" she asked back.

"Would you like to come for a ride?" he offered, his elbow resting on the table, his hand supporting his chin.

Her eyes widened. Joe was still leaning forward when he got a far too vigorous pat on his back that made him lose his balance.

"Hey there, boy," started a baritone voice.

Joe managed to keep a neutral face and turned his head to look at the source of it.

"How is it that I've never seen you around? What's your family name? What's your job? And what's your business with my daughter?" The middle-aged man spoke in a friendly yet chilling tone.

It was something in between a job interview and a police interrogation, if not for a small detail. The man kept his heavy hand clutched on Joe's shoulder, right in that spot where a little more pressure could have made anybody swear in pain. He had a crooked smile, feeling more like a threat than a welcome, and a heavy accent from southern Italy. He didn't need to add that if Joe messed with the girl, his body would've disappeared into the fresh cement of some building in construction.

The mafia vibe was all there.

Luckily, the black t-shirt around his fat belly bore a print that was too stupid for a real boss. It was a stylised picture of two men, standing one beside the other. The right man had a normal-sized something hanging between his legs, while the left man had it as long as his legs. The former was topped by the writing YOU and the latter by a big fat ME. Damn Italian sense of humor.

Joe held his smile and instead sighed dramatically.

"I'm a cop," he said under his breath and glanced up at him, an amused light playing in his eyes.

The cafe's owner burst out laughing.

"Well, there are worse things in life, my boy," he quipped.

Before pulling his hand back, he gave Joe another couple of pats on the back, but this time they were light and friendly. Joe stood up, showed him his badge and offered his hand. The man grabbed it and introduced himself, taking on a more serious demeanor.

"Well, Vito, to be honest, I'm here to get information about somebody," explained the detective.

Vito's shoulders stiffened slightly. His eyes flashed to check on his daughter and then back to Joe's. His cheeks reddened and his lips tightened in a hard line, probably holding back his internal swearing. He was the kind of man who would normally react in an aggressive way if questioned since rage was an easy way out for a bad liar. Still, he knew he couldn't afford to piss off a cop and, given the situation, he managed to keep his head cool and his mouth shut. Not a good deal for Joe anyway. On the other hand, Maria had grown pale, her face obviously showing her concern. No filters there. She was an inexperienced, emotional little girl.

Joe knew what they both feared: police being on the lookout for Sybil Vain. He took his sweet time and, slipping his hand inside the pocket of his leather jacket, he slowly took out a headshot, showing it to them.

"Have you ever met this man?" he asked.

It was an old and artfully blurred photo, yet taken from the front and easily recognizable. Vito was the first to react. He nodded and gulped in some air, his shoulders relaxing.

"I don't want you to panic, but this is a dangerous individual," added Joe, lowering his tone over the last words. "We have traced him up to here through an anonymous tip and this is confidential information, but..." He took a strategic break and put away the photo. "He's probably going under the name of David Green and it seems like he had some contact with Angéline Bernard, the owner of the lingerie shop on the other side of the road." He gave a serious look at both of them. Maria's breakfast was getting cold while she held her breath, giving him her complete attention. "For a few days I'll have to keep watch on the shop from here, so I would like you to be cooperative and behave naturally. And, for your own safety, you should tell me anything you know about this man," he concluded in a clear and sharp voice.

"There's not much to say. He only came once to the cafe, about a week ago," Vito said quickly, keeping his baritone voice as low as possible. "He didn't order anything, was saying weird things and trying to get to Maria, so I kicked him out." He cut his words short and nodded to himself.

"What kind of weird things?" asked Joe, getting closer to him.

"I don't remember now," the bartender replied smoothly, but within the first five seconds, his look shifted up to the left and he touched his forehead as if thinking about it.

Joe knew he was lying. Not that it mattered though.

"Ah, but I saw him again, on Monday afternoon, when he went into that lingerie shop," he added to change the subject and gave the detective a proud smile.

Maria shot her father a surprised glance but then her face lightened up. She realized that they didn't need to hide anything about Green, and if police caught him it would've been a win-win.

"Now that I think about it, when Angèline came to pick up her usual coffee on Monday after closing her shop, she told me she had a date with an interesting man the same night... It could've been him..." she considered, her face darkening at the idea.

Joe knew the answer already. Still, he shifted his inquisitive gaze on her.

"Anyway, I've never even spoken to him and I know nothing about the date," she added quickly and raised her hands.

Joe took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of his nose with two fingers. Then he gave her a reassuring smile.

They both avoided mentioning Vain's name, even though they didn't have any apparent reason to do so. Maria was obviously the weak link and Joe had already planned to give her all the necessary time and care for her to speak out. He brought his gaze back to Vito.

"If you remember anything of what Green told you, just let me know, ok?" he asked with a gentle tone.

The man nodded promptly and Joe decided to give them the last blow.

"It might help us understand why he's here and who he's after, and that could be the only way to stop him." Joe's voice lowered as he shifted his gaze from one to the other.

Maria bit her lips, something stirring in her thoughts.

"Alright, I've said more than enough, I won't keep you any longer," the detective concluded and, giving them another reassuring smile, he sat back in his chair.

Vito took his leave with a nod. His face was paler and the cocky attitude was totally gone. Maria leaned back in the chair and took a bite of her croissant, trying to behave naturally. However, the atmosphere was tense.

"What did this David Green do?" she asked casually.

"I'm not supposed to tell you," Joe replied in a low voice. He leaned back in the chair and brought his hands to the back of his head, moving his right ankle to rest over his left knee.

"But you will, right?" she insisted, batting her eyelashes in a far too obvious way. She pushed the tray aside to lean over the table in a much more provocative way than before, her boobs squeezed between her arms.

Curiosity made her a reckless kitten. It was a dangerous play, dealing with a big black dog.

Joe gave her a side-glance, half a smile on his lips. Then he shifted on the chair and again rested his elbow on the table to bring his face close to hers. "He is a professional killer and he might be using Miss Bernard to reach his target," he slowly whispered.

She nervously tapped her fingers on the table but no surprise showed on her face and she didn't pull back. Her eyes locked to his.

"Shoot, that was quick," she noted, giving him a sweet smile. Her eyes trailed down his face to his lips and quickly ran back to his eyes. Her nails tapped on the metal surface, then she brought her hand up to her mouth, one finger teasing her lower lip. "So, why don't you ask her directly?" she inquired.

"We don't know how much she's involved with him and we don't want to let him slip away, again," he said, consciously staring at her lips.

"And why are you telling me all this?" she asked, pointing the same finger up at her eyes.

"I hope I can get an Italian dinner," he answered in a low seductive voice, still staring at her mouth.

She shook her head, half a smile on her lips.

He inhaled. The scent of ripe peaches filled his nostrils. "Still, you're a tough lady, aren't you?" he noted, trailing back to her eyes. "Doesn't that frighten you at all?"

"I don't know the guy and nobody would pay to kill me anyway." Her fingers moved to play with a strand of her hair. "After all, I'm an angel," she jested, batting her eyelashes in that exaggerated way once more.

"No doubt you are," he agreed with a charming smile. "So, what time do you get off?" He spoke in a low, softer voice, his eyes half closed studying her face.

"No conflict of interests?"

"I'm not the type of guy that brings work home," he replied confidently.

She pulled back and stood up.

"I have some errands to run now, will be back in a while," she explained, taking a step towards the entrance. Before passing him though, she bent over him. The cross pendant hanging at her neck was swinging seductively over her breasts. Joe had to force himself not to stare again and his hands not to grab her hips already. She glanced at the cold coffee that he had left aside, almost untouched, a hint of a smile forming on her lips. Her eyes locked with his again. "I'll see if I'm in the mood for staying after closing time today," she whispered, taking up the tray.

Right after she sashayed back to the cafe's entrance. Slowly swinging her hips, the Italian way, just to let him stare.

Under the dark purple apron, her rich curves were squeezed in leather hot pants and a tight tank top. She wore all black, including the combat boots at her feet. She looked nothing like the graceful, discreet and elegant Angéline. Maria was a hot-blooded, dark, sexy kitten. The scent of peaches still lingering in the air was such a mismatch to her looks and yet it gave her that touch of innocence a demon would've loved to taste.

Joe stared until she disappeared inside. His mind crossed by the thought of what a perfect fit she would've been for his new custom California.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I just found out that Things Not Subject To Gravity won first place for Mystery/Thriller in The Book Awards! XD

I want to dedicate this chapter to the judge who made this possible with her dedication to the Awards and gave so much appreciation to this book.

I was - and still am - deeply touched by the scoring review. I feel I've got a huge payback for all my hard work up to now and that I should be more confident about it.

Thank you so so much xmagxx

A lot of love to you and luck with your books too!!!

As always, all my gratitude to my lovely betas, @Sarah_MacLean and @Jagermeanshunter for their wonderful help and enthusiasm for my story (I'm blessed to have you and so happy  that you are enjoying too!)

So, what about this little gift? Is Joe to your liking? XDDD