Here's this week's chapter. Enjoy.

Chapter 157.

Jess and I exchanged matching quizzical looks. A repair job orderin her father's name? That was completely unexpected.

"Uh, no. Are there any others? Oh, maybe try Wilson." She was reaching.

"On second thought, that estimate under the name Giordano. What kind of car was it?" I interrupted.

"Let me see." He seemed to scroll through the record. "A delivery van. Front end. I think we still have the truck here."

"Do you know which salesman took the order?" Jess asked, glancing my way.

"Looks like it was Eddie."

"Is he here today?" I looked around but couldn't see the nametags on all five salesmen.

"Why are you so interested in the van?" He was suddenly suspicious.

Jess seemed to know it was time to retreat. "Well, if you can't find our estimate, maybe you can look at our car and then give us that tour you promised." She was back to flirting with him.

He responded as we hoped. "Sure. Where are you parked?"

We took him out to see the car. He whistled. "Don't see many old models like this on the road. It can use a nice paint job, new interior, we can definitely spiff up this one." Dollar signs appeared in his eyes.

"So you think you can do something with it?" Jess asked.

"Absolutely! Come on back and I'll show you what they're doing to some of the cars."

We followed him through the gate of the chain-link fence that enclosed the back lot of the place. Lots of cars looked like they were already finished and were waiting for their owners to retrieve them. Lots more were waiting for body repairs and assorted detailing.

Bill pointed out a few with new paint jobs. "Your car would look fantastic with that baby blue paint and a navy stripe along the side."

I nodded, but my eyes were on a van exactly like the ones parked behind the fruit company office. It looked like the work on it was done and it was ready for someone to pick it up. "You folks do good work. Is that the truck from the Giordano job?"

"You'd have to ask Eddie." He smiled and pointed his finger. "There he is, talking to that young couple."

We strolled to where they were inspecting an SUV.

"Nice job," I said.

The young woman smiled and her husband said, "The chrome still needs a bit of touch up, but we're happy with what they did."

"Eddie, this couple wanted to know something about the van at the end of this row." Bill used his chin to point this time.

The other salesman was shorter and darker than Bill, but had the same not-quite-trustworthy look about him. "Giordano's truck?" His eyes narrowed at us.

"I'm Jess Giordano, and I was wondering whether it was my brother or my father who brought it in."

"Guess it was your brother. He didn't look old enough to be your father."

"But older than me?"

"I'd say. Fortyish, blond. Big guy." He held his hand at my height.

Jess and I exchanged a glance. That certainly wasn't Petey, in fact, it sounded a lot like Mike Morgan.

"Why you asking?" Eddie's eyes narrowed further.

"I'm afraid the accident was my fault and I wondered how much it cost to fix the truck," Jess lied. "And who was paying for it."

Eddie nodded, accepting her story. "It was quite a job. The front fenders on those run big bucks. I think I estimated over two grand for everything, but it might have come in a little higher than that. As I remember, the insurance adjuster wasn't too happy."

That brought up a new question. "Whose insurance did Peter use?"

"It's a company truck," Eddie replied.

"See, Honey, Bernini's insurance is paying for it." I placed a hand on Jess' shoulder.

She sighed loudly, nodded and frowned.

There was one more thing we needed to know, though. Who was picking the truck up? I sensed the young couple taking everything in and wondered if I could use them, then decided against it. They were an unknown quantity. "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to monopolize your salesman." I started to turn away but before they could speak, I turned back. "I suppose you won't let us take the truck off your hands."

Eddie shook his head. "I'm afraid not. The person I spoke to this morning at the fruit company said they'd be sending someone out this afternoon."

"Now that's a conscientious guy." I addressed the couple directly. "You kids picked a good one."

The young woman smiled at me, but the man with her looked at me like I was off my rocker.

"Guess we'll be on our way." I took Jess' arm.

"What about your car?" Bill asked. I'd forgotten he was still there.

Going over some options would give us a chance to stick around and see who picked up the delivery van. We followed Bill back to the office and took the seats he offered us next to his desk.

"So, you wanted a paint job, right?"

I nodded. "Maybe that blue you showed us. But no stripe."

"Oh, honey, why can't we get a stripe? Please!" Jess actually batted her lashes at me.

I hid my smile and played along with Jess. "Oh, alright. A stripe it is."

"And we need new seats."

"No new seats." I took my time looking at her face. Loud sigh. Puffed out cheeks. "Maybe they can reupholster the old ones."

Jess smiled, but stopped short of clapping her hands. "And maybe new tires."

I countered, "What's wrong with the old ones?"

"Nothing, but you know how I like white walls."

"White walls went out with disco," I scoffed.

"Disco's coming back."

Bill watched us as if we were in a tennis match. What fun!

After some more back and forth, I turned to him. "Women. You can never please 'em."

He nodded like a good salesman who knows who's paying the bills. "Why don't we write up a new estimate. I promise, this time we won't lose it in the system."

I glanced at Jess. "You sure about the tires?"

"Well, maybe not. But the new seats, pretty please?" Her lips pouted. "Buckets."

"Oh, all right." We watched as Bill recorded everything, occasionally asking a question to confirm everything we talked about. The dollar signs never left his eyes.

Sitting where we were, we saw him enter and look around for someone who'd wait on him. I hoped he wouldn't spot us, or come over if he did.

"Can I help you?" the only female sales person asked.

Petey smiled at her. "I'm here to pick up a truck." He was still looking around. It was obvious to me when he saw his sister, but all he did was smile and raise the volume of his voice slightly. No one else seemed to notice. "They sent me from Bernini Fruit. It's a white van with the name of the company on the side?" He handed her a card.

"Of course." She checked her computer. "Looks like the work's done. It's around back."

He left with her just as Bill printed out our estimate. It was twice our monthly mortgage payment. He'd done it in the hyphenated name House-Giordano.

I whistled. "I knew it would be high. I'm gonna have to think about what we can eliminate. I'll be back next week." Of course, I had no intention of returning.

Jess flashed another smile at Bill and we left. As we got into the car, she said, "I think we'll have to have another talk with Petey."

I nodded. "If Morgan dropped off the van, why did he use your father's name? And how did the anyone at the fruit company find out the van was here unless he told them?"

"Remember, Molino owns this shop, too." We got into the car and I drove to the exit of the place.

"That could be the connection." I grimaced. "I hoped Morgan would be the one picking up the van. Well, I guess you can't always get what you want. C'mon, I think we've done enough damage here for one day."

Jess was worried about something else. "Greg, do you think Molino will see that we got an estimate here?"

"I doubt he reviews all the orders that are entered, especially if we never go back to have the work done."

She put a hand on my arm. "But he can have a program set up to alert him about certain names."

"Like yours and mine?" I merged into traffic and headed for home.

"Like my father's, which let him know about the van, and might also pick up our estimate."

Frankly, I hadn't even thought of that when we talked to Bill. "Nothing we can do about it now, except be extra vigilant."

She probably nodded but realized my eyes were on the road. "Yes, we do."

"Where should I drop you? I have to get back to the hospital and find out what my team's up to."

"Drop me at Nina's. She was working on the place cards for tomorrow night based on the Goldman's seating arrangement."

"Excited?"

"Very. Greg, this is a big step for us. Tomorrow could make or break our business."

"You'll do fine. The food's terrific, you're so thorough that between you and your sister you've thought of everything. What could go wrong?"

"Unfortunately, too many things, things we have no control over." Her voice was strained.

"Opening night nerves. Don't worry."

"Easy for you to say."

I've never been a supportive person, never had anyone I wanted to support. But if Jess needed me, I'd be there for her. "Jess, you're flexible enough that you can quickly find a way to work around any problems that develop."

"So you think there will be snags?"

"That's not what I'm saying." It wasn't as easy as it seemed. "What I meant was you can handle anything you set your mind to do. No one can stop you. The party will be a brilliant success."

"Nice of you to say."

"You know I don't make a habit of saying nice things."

She chuckled. "No you don't."

We'd reached Nina's building. Jess got out, and I watched her enter, then drove to the hospital.

The team wasn't in the conference room. I hoped they were tending to the patient, but I wasn't about to go looking for them. The light on my phone was flashing. I ignored it for the time being and stretched out in my Eames chair to think about what Jess said. Was Molino targeting anyone besides the Locarnos? How did his association with Papa Giordano impact the rest of the Giordano family?

My cellphone rang, and I let it go to voice mail, but just before it did, I looked at the caller ID. "Hi, Petey, what can I do for you?"

"What were you and my sister doing at the car shop?"

"You know it's owned by Molino, don't you?"

"It is? Does he own everything in this town?"

I laughed at his dismay. "No, only a car repair shop here, another in Trenton, the fruit company and a few other businesses. What did they tell you about the van you were there to pick up?"

"Just that it had been in an accident." He paused. "I tried to get someone to tell me which driver, but no go. Sorry."

"Still no sign of Morgan at Bernini?" I asked.

"Nope. But get this." His voice rose in excitement. "There's some kind of special delivery they have scheduled for tomorrow. They'll need all the trucks for it, too. And all of the drivers."

"Including you?" That sounded interesting. "Find out what you can about it."

"Oh, I will. I will."