Excerpt of Chicken Caccia-Killer by Liz Lipperman

Jordan bit her lip to stifle a grin. Alex wasn’t fooling
anyone with the dad remark. He was simply making sure Emilio
knew his mother was married. Unfortunately, Emilio didn't
look like the kind of guy who cared about small details like
a
wedding ring.

Or was it possible that Alex was reminding his mother?

“There you all are. I've been looking for you.”

Jordan swiveled around just as Kate Moreland approached,
her cheeks flushed, her charcoal silk blouse slightly
disheveled.

“Oh honey, how’s your headache? I thought you were going to
lie down for a while.”

“I did, Mother, and I’m much better.” She kissed Natalie
then turned her attention to Emilio. “I need to talk to you
later about the shipment from New Jersey. It still hasn’t
arrived, and I’m getting a little concerned.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” Emilio
patted her hand. “My guys are on top of the liquor
situation. I
guarantee it’ll be here in plenty of time.”

Apparently satisfied with the answer, Kate turned back to
Jordan and motioned for the gang to come over. “These must
be
the friends I've heard so much about. I hope you all have a
great time tonight and at the festi—” She glanced up when an
older gentleman tapped her shoulder, and after a brief
exchange
with the man, she excused herself and stepped away from the
group with him.

“She’s not going to get much time to party tonight, I’m
afraid,” Alex explained. “Everyone seems to need her for one
thing or another. She’s—” He stopped when the sound of
breaking
glass was heard from inside.

Emilio stared into the living room. “Looks like a lovers’
quarrel. You know how passionate we Italians are about love
and
war.” Although his response was flippant, the serious look
on
his face was not.

Jordan followed his gaze and focused on one of the most
gorgeous men she’d ever seen. Standing about six two and
dressed
in a black suit that had to be pure silk, the man was
visibly
upset. He was frantically trying to calm a woman who was
screaming obscenities and waving her arms in the air with
each
new outburst.

Studying them from a distance, Jordan couldn’t help
thinking that if ever there was a mismatch it was the two of
them. The woman stood around five three with black hair cut
short and framing her round, olive face in a very
unflattering
style. Slightly overweight with a large nose, she wasn't
what
Jordan would expect to see on the arm of someone as debonair
as
the man she was arguing with. Jordan was about to say
something
to Alex when the good-looking man grabbed the woman’s arm
and
marched toward them, stopping directly in front of Emilio
and
Natalie.

“Maybe you can talk some sense into my fiancée,” he said,
his voice dripping with anger. “She thinks I’m cheating on
her.”

“Your fiancée?” Kate asked, turning away from the man she’d
been conversing with and stepping around her mother to face
the
new arrival. “Marco, what’s going on?”

“Kate!” Surprise covered his face. “You said you weren't
staying for the party. I thought you’d left.”

“Is this the whore, Marco?” the short woman asked, tears
now beginning to form in her eyes.

Kate's face flamed, and before Alex could stop her, she
lunged at Marco and gave his face a stinging slap, leaving a
bright red imprint of her hand. Without another word, she
turned
on her heels and stomped out.

“What are you talking about, Tina?” Emilio nailed Marco
with an icy stare as he cradled his daughter in his arms.

Tina sniffed and pulled away, swiping at the tears running
freely down her cheeks with the sleeve of her obviously
expensive blouse. “I heard him talking to someone on the
phone a
little while ago, Daddy. He told her he couldn’t quit
thinking
about her body against his, his mouth on hers.”

Emilio turned to Marco, a stern look on his face. “Is this
true?”

Marco shook his head. “She misunderstood me, Emilio. I
swear. I love Tina and I haven’t cheated on her.”

Emilio studied Marco’s face for a few minutes before
he bent down and whispered something in his daughter's ear.

Straightening up he gave her a nudge toward the living room.

“Get yourself cleaned up, baby girl. The party’s just
getting
started.”

She stole a final look in Marco’s direction, and then
walked back into the hotel, still sniffling.

When she was gone, Emilio wrapped his arm around the man’s
shoulder and pulled him close.

“This is my future son-in-law, Marco Petrone.”

Without warning, Natalie Moreland reached out and slapped
the other side of Marco’s face. “You're a lying bastard.”

The silence following that statement was finally broken
when a stunned Marco recovered enough to confront Natalie.

“And who exactly are you?”

Her eyes flashed anger. “The whore’s mother.”