A Thousand Tombs Read Free Page A

friendship. With an appropriate amount of necking thrown in, of course. The pace was her decision and a direct result of her last relationship debacle. Ryan Connelly had called it quits when she thought he was thinking about rings. She didn’t want that to happen again, so she’d told Mack from the get-go that she wasn’t going to jump into his bed right away.
    Mack’s response? He’d told her it was her body, and her decision. That made it harder to wait, of course, and she wondered if he’d been aware of that. But wait she had, and at this point they were both beyond ready to move it all forward, so she’d packed some things to stay over.
    She’d been looking forward to this. She slung her arms around his waist and tucked her fingers into the back pockets of his jeans.
    “Don’t leave.” Mack sighed and nuzzled her hair. “Damn, I wasn’t thinking. I could tell he was in trouble, so I just reached out and grabbed him. I’m sorry, Genny.”
    “I’ve made you wait this long. A few more days won’t make any difference. We have plenty of time.”
    They moved apart at the sound of footsteps in the hall. Gen took a seat at the table that served as an island in the middle of the room, just as Luca came in with Stella padding along behind. She pulled out the chair beside her, then drew the bag with the coin from her pocket and plunked it down.
    Luca sat, still silent.
    Mack ruffled the dog’s fur and gave her a Milk Bone, then rummaged in the fridge and overheads and joined them with a tub of chocolate chip ice cream, a liter of 7-Up, and two thick bar glasses. He dropped ice cream into one, then added soda and a spoon and pushed it across to Luca.
    “What’s this?”
    “You’ve never had a 7-Up float?” Mack winced. “Man, you haven’t lived. Try it.” He winked at Gen. He knew she’d pass on dessert if he asked her, so he didn’t. Instead, he grabbed a juice glass and made her the baby version.
    “Okay,” Mack said. “Showtime. What’s your last name, Luca?”
    “Torello.”
    “How old are you?”
    “Eighteen.”
    “Cut the crap.”
    “Okay, seventeen.”
    “In about a year, maybe.”
    “No, really. I’m seventeen, I swear.”
    “Hunh. Luca Torello is a nice Italian name. You got family in North Beach?”
    “Somewhere. My mother lost touch, but I came here to track them down. I was staying with somebody while I looked, but that’s history.”
    “As of when?”
    “Yesterday.”
    “Why?”
    “I needed a change of address.”
    “Explain.”
    “I’ve been playing my guitar on the streets around North Beach for about a month. You know, for tips. A week ago I set up near some shops on Grant. Right away this old guy starts coming by. Every day, and always late in the afternoon, about four o’clock.
    “He’d listen for a while, then he’d drop a ten bill in my case and keep going. So I made that my regular spot. One day I gave him a five-minute head start and followed him. He lives in a house not too far from that big Catholic Church near the park.”
    “I know the one,” Mack said. “Why’d you want to see where he lived, were you planning something?”
    The kid’s chin came up and his eyes blazed. “No.”
    “Then why?”
    “I was curious. I mean, I’m good, but ten bucks a day? That’s a lot of dough. I wondered if he had something else in mind, if you get my drift.”
    “And you trailed him home because you were willing to put out.”
    “Hell no.” Luca’s hands fisted and he dropped them in his lap. “No way.”
    “They why were you interested?”
    “Because I like to know the lay of the land.”
    Mack studied Luca’s face. “All right, we’ll leave it for now. Keep going.”
    “Yesterday the old man dropped that bag when he was pulling the bill out of his pocket. My jacket was on the ground, and it fell on the sleeve. I heard it, but he didn’t seem to notice, so I covered it with my foot. He walked away.
    “I flipped the jacket over it and kept playing,