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answered in the affirmative, he was led to a private room in the back. Either Salvatore didn’t want to be seen with him, or didn’t want to be seen, period.
    He had no idea what this meeting was about. More than once, a bribe to break the engagement crossed his mind. He hoped he was wrong.
    â€œSal,” he said, holding out his hand.
    Angie’s father stood, and the two shook hands warily. Sal was nearly six feet tall, but thin and somewhat frail due to a heart condition. His hair was gray, and he had a small gray mustache. His eyes weren’t the dark, rich chocolate brown of Angie’s, but were lighter with flecks of green. When he spoke, he had a slight Italian accent. “Thanks for coming,” Sal said. “Sit. I told the chef to bring out a few of his specialties. Whatever he thought was good. Is that okay with you?”
    Paavo could see that Sal didn’t want to waste time ordering. “Sure,” he replied.
    â€œWine?” Sal asked.
    â€œNo, thanks. I’m on duty.”
    Sal scowled. “What, you don’t drink?”
    â€œNot when I’m on duty,” Paavo repeated.
    Sal beckoned the waiter. “A bottle of a nice chianti, per piacere . And?” He glanced at Paavo.
    â€œWater’s fine,” Paavo replied.
    â€œPerrier?” the waiter asked.
    Paavo nodded. Sal looked disgusted.
    As the waiter turned, Sal called, “I said I want wine that’s ‘nice’—not the most expensive.” He glowered in Paavo’s direction. “I’m the only one in the family who knows the value of a dollar.”
    Paavo’s jaw tightened. Was this going to be about money? How he didn’t make near enough to support Angie in the style to which she was accustomed? “Angie and I have reached an agreement about money,” he said firmly.
    He had to wait for Sal’s answer as a different waiter brought out sourdough bread and salad,and then the first reappeared for Sal to okay the wine choice.
    When they were alone again, Sal said, “Yeah, I know you and Angelina don’t talk about money—you got nothing to talk about, right? Anyway, you got it wrong. I didn’t ask you here to flap my gums about the two of you. There’s nothing more to say. You both made that clear to me. I’m just the father. Why should I count, long as I pay the bills, right?”
    Paavo chomped down hard on his tongue, but was rapidly losing the battle with himself.
    â€œAnyway, you treat her good, keep her happy,” Sal said, “and we’ll be all right.” Despite the words, his tone dripped with doubt over Paavo’s ability to do that.
    â€œFine.” Paavo’s word was clipped and cold.
    â€œThis is something else,” Sal continued. “Police business. Eat, then we’ll talk.”
    The meal was silent and tense. Paavo recognized that the veal scaloppini and pappardelle with porcini mushroom sauce were excellent, but they could have been cardboard and fell in a lump in his stomach. Sal only nibbled at his food, finally pushing the plate aside. “Look, Smith, I got a problem.”
    Paavo put down his fork, ready to listen.
    â€œI guess Angelina told you I have managers to run my stores nowadays. I’m president of the family corporation, so I go check on them from time to time.”
    â€œAngie’s told me,” Paavo said. He knew all about Sal’s string of shoe stores in shopping malls and downtown areas throughout northern California.
    â€œI got a problem with one of my managers.” Sal dropped his gaze.
    When he didn’t continue, Paavo considered the situations that result in “police business,” as Sal called it. “Are you talking theft? Embezzlement?” he asked.
    Sal shook his head. “I wish. It’s worse. Lots worse.” He caught Paavo’s eye. “It’s love.”
    Paavo felt the blood drain from his face. “You aren’t saying