Chapter Six: Under The Influence

"But he's not a thug!" Mary's slim crystal wine glass spilled a little as she set it down sharply on the table. In the hushed French restaurant her soft whisper seemed unusually shrill. "Marco Maselli got his head beaten in helping me get inside that meth lab and save those poor dogs. Would someone who was a thug at heart do that?"

Dark-eyed, boyishly handsome David Rizzio looked thoughtful as he sipped from his own glass. "Certainly the brute has shown he can take punishment. And he's clearly devoted to you. But how exactly did he know where the meth lab would be? And why did the bikers trust him enough to open the door? I get the impression your Mr. Maselli has a very unsavory past."

"Of course he does - but he's changed!" The beautiful blonde studied the wine in her glass with dreamy green eyes. "When we were alone, waiting outside that awful place, he told me how he killed that poor young man and was sent to prison. But he didn't want to do it - it was a matter of family honor!"

"The Maselli crime family is noted for many things, Mary - honor is not one of them. I'd guess the only thing the man really cares about is money. And if Elizabeth O'Hara didn't trust him, neither should you."

"Elizabeth doesn't trust anyone, Davy," Mary replied, with a light laugh. "Seriously, I'm certain there's good in Marco. And I'm not going to let you say nasty things about him. Not when you don't even know the man!"

"Still the fierce champion of the weak," David Rizzio smiled. "I remember how often you stuck up for me when we were children together. Now I do understand why the O'Hara family might have bullied the brute. I'm an Italian too, remember. But I never joined the mob, Mary. And I have a feeling that Marco made his decision to switch allegiance from Elizabeth to you on the basis of money, not honor."

Mary gave an unladylike snort. "Money, my foot! The man works as a masseur. He's wonderful, but I don't pay him half what he deserves. He's on parole and I know for a fact his apartment is a tiny place in a dreadful neighborhood!"

"If he really lives there," Davy said skeptically. "For all you know Elizabeth is bankrolling him and he's putting on an act to win your sympathy."

The green-eyed blonde literally shrieked with laughter. "For a gentle, loving person, Davy, you are positively paranoid! Would it make you happy if we drove to the bad part of town right now and saw Mr. Maselli's place?"

"Mary, I hardly think that's wise. Especially at this time of night!"

"Chicken," Mary giggled. "Seriously, we're not going to disturb the man. I just want you to see where he lives, and know that he's genuine in coming from a bad place. Unless you're too chicken to see how the other half lives?"

Her handsome, slender male escort flushed bright pink. "I am not chicken, I'm sensible!"

"Oh, Davy, do say yes. It'll be fun! Don't you want to try out my new Italian sports car?" Mary's sense of adventure was infectious.

David Rizzio insisted on driving, since Mary was on her third glass of wine. Having been raised and educated at her family's expense, the young classically trained musician felt deep loyalty to the beautiful heiress. Ever since they were kids together, she was the leader, and he was the follower. And their adventures were always slightly terrifying. Only David took deep pride in the fact that he was always their to protect his friend. Mary had been raised to see herself as a force for goodness in the world. She had courage, and so much kindness in her heart. Davy was the one with the common sense.

But for all his good sense and prudence, Davy was not very good at driving on American streets. He was fine on the highway, but as soon as they reached Red Lake's infamous South End, everything seemed to change. The streets were so narrow. There was a liquor store on every block, and scary looking boys standing around in groups. They played music that made Davy uncomfortable, so loud and sort of pulsating, with a kind of teasing rhythm. Mary liked it, she even swayed a little to the beat. But to Davy it only sounded scary and threatening.

"You passed it!" Mary shrilled. For all her careless daring, she seemed increasingly agitated as they drew closer to Marco Maselli's residence. "That was his apartment building back there, I'm sure of it. Turn around, Davy, turn around!"

"But this is a one way street!" Too late, Davy realized that Mary was right. He swerved to one side, hoping that he would be able to enter the parking lot from the alley. He made it by just a hair, but was unable to brake in time. Instead he smacked right into a parked car.

"There goes my paint job!" Mary laughed gaily. "When the police come, Davy, remember to tell them you were driving. I'm clearly under the influence."

"You can say that again," said a deep, angry male voice.

Poor Davy nearly jumped out of his skin. "Are you the police?" he asked, as the hulking male form drew nearer.

"Not hardly," the man growled. His huge body seemed to loom up out of the shadows, towering over the tiny red sports car.

"Hi Marco!" Mary sounded cheerful and quite unafraid.