Page 39 of Tesoro: Mayhem Makers

Opening the door, I make my way down the hall, stopping short when I enter Angelo’s room.

“What the…” I trail off, confusion making my heart rate increase. His bed is empty, the IV bag I replaced earlier, dripping slowly onto the wooden floor.

The house is eerily quiet, the sound of my pounding heart the only noise I hear. Searching the room, for what I don’t know, I turn and head for the door.

Entering the hall, I’m relieved to see the light in the kitchen is on. Hope fills my chest as I make my way into the room, stopping short once again when I see a strange woman sitting at the kitchen table.

“Who are?—”

“Oh my?—”

We say in unison, her features strikingly familiar. Narrowing my eyes, I search my memory trying desperately to recall where I’ve seen her before.

“Holy shit.” The woman pointed a perfectly manicured finger in my direction. As she moves to stand, recognition hits me like a ton of bricks.

“Valentina Marconi.”

“Please don't ask for an autograph, I’m on a break.”

Valentina was an award winning movie star who, according to Tiffani, was discovered while ordering coffee in front of some producer I’d never heard of. She had two blockbusters under her belt, however the latest film she’d starred in was a huge box office flop.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well…” She drew out the word as she walked around the table, her impossibly high heels clicking against the wooden floor. Her shorts were covered in sequins, and completely inapt for the winter weather. Her dark hair was streaked with highlights which in all honesty, could use a touchup. Her top, if you could call it that, was sheer and ended at the top of her abdomen. A keyhole cutout showed the surgical skill of her plastic surgeon.

“A week ago, I was enjoying a shower with Dante when he had to drop everything to come to Dallas.” Valentina got a far off look in her eyes which matched her cheshire grin. “Well, he didn’t drop everything.” Grasping her fake tits as she bit her bottom lip. “He of course begged me to come, but I had obligations I simply could not get out of.”

Crossing my arms over my chest. “I hadn’t heard you were dating anyone.” Keeping my face void of emotion, I could tell by her mannerisms she was lying through her perfect veneers. “Guess the paparazzi is leaving you alone.”

It was slight, but my jab hit its target.

“He wanted me to give you this.”

Valentina kicked my backpack across the floor toward me, the straps coming to lie on my bare feet.

“Where is Angelo?” Careful not to show my hand, I was skilled when it came to games like this.

“Don’t you mean Dante?”

“No.” Shaking my head, “I was hired to take care of Angelo.”

“Bullshit.” Crossing her arms to match my stance. “I can smell him all over you.”

“What you smell is Frankie’s pot roast.” Dropping my arms, I step over the backpack and head for the oven. Opening the door, I let out a breath as sitting in the center rack is a plate filled with food.

“You really should to be more picky with your bed partners, if this smells like sex to you.”

Valentina wrinkled up her nose, mocking a laugh as she rolled her eyes.

“Dante left because it’s Bellamia’s birthday.”

“Bellamia?” I echoed, feigning ignorance

“Yes, she’s?—”

“His dead wife, try again,” I interrupt, growing tired of the game. I need to know where they’d gone and if Angelo was okay. Unfortunately, the only person who could tell me that had a huge hard on for Dante.

“Doc, there you are.”

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