The Burning Point by Mary Jo Putney Read Free Book Online

than boy, despite his sexy delinquent appearance. She asked, "Where did you go to school?"
    "Poly."
    "Aha! An engineer. I'll bet you took the Poly A Course."
    "My Uncle Frankie says that Baltimore is the only place he knows where people in nursing homes are still asking each other where they went to school, and they always mean high school."
    "Of course. It's a great way to figure out a person's neighborhood, social class, and mutual acquaintances." Donovan was a perfect example of that kind of analysis. His accent and appearance said blue collar. The Poly A course said that he was very bright, and hardworking. Her father had graduated from the Poly A course. "The next step is for me to think of anyone I know who went to Poly, then ask you about him. In a matter of minutes, we'll have established some connection. It's the Baltimore way."
    He sorted through his keys, chuckling. "So where did you go to school, Ms. Corsi? Bryn Mawr? Garrison Forrest? I've heard every girl there is blond."
    "Could be, but not all blondes go to Garrison. I went to Friends."
    He found the right key and unlocked the door. "Educated by Quakers. Earnest. Socially committed."
    She grinned. "Close enough. What are you doing now?"
    "I'm a sophomore in engineering at Loyola." He opened the door for her. "And you?"
    "I'm a freshman in architecture at Maryland."
    They stepped inside to be greeted by a tall, balding man. "Donovan, you're back early. Who's your friend?"
    "This is Kate Corsi," Donovan said. "She needs a ride out to Baltimore County. I hoped you'd let me borrow your car. Kate, meet my uncle, Frank Russo."
    She gave the older man her best smile. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Russo."
    "Call me Frank," he said in a booming baritone as he waved her into the house. His face showed a faint but unmistakable resemblance to Donovan.
    Kate guessed that his sister had been Donovan's mother, which explained why Donovan's complexion was a little darker than his mostly Irish appearance suggested. Probably he was an Irish-Italian blend; Baltimore was full of kids born to mixed ethnic marriages. Russian married Greek, Lithuanian married Irish. Sometimes, even, WASP married Italian.
    Frank raised his voice. "Connie, come meet Donovan's friend."
    A cheerful alto replied from the kitchen, "He's brought home a girl?"
    "Did I say it was a girl?" Frank said with mock surprise.
    "You wouldn't have called me if it was a boy." A round, attractive woman with salt and pepper hair appeared and scanned Kate's smudged satin pumps, white evening gown, and borrowed jacket. Not even blinking, she remarked, "This one's even prettier than that German shepherd that followed you home last year, Donovan."
    "Oh, I don't know. It was a really good-looking German shepherd." A mischievous glint in his eyes, Donovan introduced them. "Concetta Russo, Kate Corsi."
    Kate guessed that he wanted to see how a debutante would react to a household of exuberant Italians. Little did he know.
    She took Connie's hand in both of hers. "Hello, Mrs. Russo. I'm really not an escapee from Sheppard-Pratt. I had a fight with my father and was starting to walk home, and Donovan rescued me from turning into an icicle."
    His aunt nodded approvingly. "He's a good boy. Frankie, let him take the car. Kate isn't dressed for a motorcycle even if it wasn't starting to snow. But first come eat. We're just about to test a batch of marinara."
    Donovan looked at Kate. "Are you hungry?"
    "Ravenous." Nothing like a family fight to work up an appetite.
    The Russos' kitchen was large and shiny clean, obviously remodeled and expanded from the original kitchen. A real estate agent would say the house was over-improved for the neighborhood, but no sane person could not love such a warm, welcoming room, full of oak cabinets and enticing smells.
    Connie poured a generous quantity of gnocchi into a pot of boiling water, then stirred the steaming kettle of marinara sauce on the other front burner. "This batch is turning out pretty good.