My mouth went dry. I turned to Maggie, who looked as stunned as I felt.
The judge said, “Mr. Marchionni, please take the stand.”
I walked forward, though I had no idea how my feet had moved, considering my brain had gone into convulsions. I stated and spelled my name and verified that I’d sworn in.
“Mr. Marchionni, you are currently cohabitating with Ms. Guthrie, are you not?”
I glanced to the judge as if he’d save me.
He nodded.
“Yes.”
“Would you describe your sleeping arrangements?”
That fucker. I narrowed my eyes at Santiago, but I knew how this worked. My mother had put him up to this. “I sleep in the master bedroom. My infant daughter sleeps in a crib two feet from the bed.”
“And do you sleep alone in the bed?”
“Yes.”
“Does Chloe, the nine-year-old, ever sleep with you?” Sal had the good sense to avoid my eyes.
I took a breath and counted to five. This is how they wanted to play it? “My niece and youngest nephew have nightmares about their deceased—”
“If you could answer the question, Mr. Marchionni. The court is aware the children’s parents are deceased, otherwise we would not be here.”
I glanced at Maggie. Big mistake. She’d gone as white as a marshmallow and looked like she’d melt into the floor at any moment. “The kids come into my room once, maybe twice a week. They miss their parents.”
“Has Chloe ever come into your room alone?”
“No.”
“Have you ever slept in her bed?”
“Fu… I mean, no.” I stared at my mother until she glanced away.
Santiago cleared his throat. “Could you tell the court the state of the household bills when you first moved into Ms. Guthrie’s home?”
How the hell did he know… My bank account. My fucking mother was on my account. She’d insisted in case something happened to me. “The bills were current, with the exception of the electric. It was one month past due.”
“What about the mortgage? Was it current?”
I smiled for the first time since I’d walked into the room. He’d screwed up, and I planned to take full-fucking advantage of it. “There is no mortgage on the house. My brother owned it free and clear.”
“You mean the Marchionni Corporation owns the house and privately financed a mortgage to Miss Guthrie after your brother passed away?”
I turned to the judge. “My folks insist we keep all of the family assets under the business name for tax purposes. My brother paid off the note on the house. Maggie, Miss Guthrie, wanted to pay something for rent so no one would accuse her of profiting from her sister’s death.”
Santiago stood with his back to my parents and winked at me. He’d given me a gift, and we both knew it. “I have nothing further.”
The judge said, “Miss Guthrie, do you have any questions for the witness?”
“I do, Your Honor.” She stood and moved from behind the table. “Mr. Marchionni, would you tell the court where Chloe thought you’d been over the previous fourteen months?”
I stared at my father. “She thought I’d gone to heaven with her mom and dad.”
Evelyn gasped and pressed her hand to her chest.
“And why is that?” Maggie glanced back at her soon to be mother-in-law.
“My father urged my brothers and me to stay away from the children.”
She went back to her table, grabbed a stack of papers and handed them to the clerk. “Your Honor, I’d like to submit the police reports from Giuseppe Marchionni Jr. and Rebecca Guthrie Marchionni’s automobile accident.”
Santiago stood. “The reports are already in evidence.”
“Not these, Your Honor. I’ve secured the preliminary notes and handwritten reports from the responding officers, as well as phone logs detailing Giuseppe Marchionni Sr.’s concerns about the accident.”
My parents and Santiago huddled together and whispered.
The judge cleared his throat and motioned to the clerk. “I’ll accept Miss Guthrie’s documents.”
She turned back to me. “Why would a grandfather demand uncles not to visit grieving children?”
My father met my eyes as if daring me to answer. What could I do? I was under oath and the truth was spelled out in the reports. “He insisted my brother and sister-in-law were murdered.”
“Despite the police findings?”
“Yes.”
Maggie cocked her head. “Would you say your father’s actions were warranted?”
I rolled my lips in. She’d pushed a little too far. “I don’t know.”
“Would you say he was acting paranoid?”
Santiago’s voice rang out. “I object. The witness isn’t a trained professional.”
“I withdraw the question.” Maggie sighed. “Mr. Marchionni. Would you characterize our relationship for the court?”
I glanced from her to the judge and grinned. “Miss Guthrie and I are engaged to be married, and I can assure you, we will not miss another electric bill.”
24
Maggie
“Where did all of this baby equipment come from? It looks like Babies R Us threw up in here.” Shanna stood with her hands on her hips, surveying the cluttered living room.
“Most of it came from the attic.” I eased Ella into the swing, pressed a few buttons, and gave the contraption a gentle nudge. “She’s cranky today, but this will put her to sleep.”
“I hate to admit it, but she’s flippin’ adorable.” Shanna plopped down on the sofa. “Where’s Prince Charming?”
“Work.” I hovered near Ella until her eyes drooped.
Shanna had called to say she was dropping by an hour after we’d walked out of the courthouse. I still hadn’t processed everything that had happened.
“I know that look. What’s wrong? How did it go today?”
I sat beside her. “Good, I think. They tried to make Gabe out to be some sort of pervert for allowing Chloe and Ryan to sleep in his bed.”
Shanna’s brows disappeared behind her bangs. “Those assholes. He’s their son.”
I waved her off. “He set them straight. Told the judge about the kids missing their parents. Explained away my money trouble by saying we were engaged. I think the case will be dismissed. We won’t know for a week or so.”
My phone rang for the seventh or eighth time in the previous hour. I glanced at the screen and turned it to silent.
“Then why are you moping?”
I shrugged. Had I really expected Gabe to say his father was nuts on the stand? “I’m not. I’m just stressed.”
“Uh huh.” She shook my shoulder. “We don’t have to talk about it now, but I’ll get it out of you sooner or later.”
I thought back to the argument Gabe and I had the night before. “Do you think I’m too controlling?”
“Controlling? You?” Shanna scoffed.
“I’m serious.”
“You’ve always known what you wanted in life.”
I rested my head on the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. “That sounds like a nice way of telling me I’m a control freak.”
Shanna tossed a pillow at me. “Enough of the melodrama. What’s up?”
I turned my head in her direction. “Gabe told me he dumped me because he didn’t fit into my plan.”
“Bullshit.” She glanced at the baby as if to make sure the infant wouldn’t repeat after her. “He dumped you because he’s a jackass.”
“Maybe.” I’d never really understood why he’d broken things off, which is why I’d assumed he’d met someone else. Now that we’d finally discussed his reasons, I almost would have preferred he cheated. Him being a jerk was easier to swallow than me being neurotic.
“Even if he felt that way, why not talk to you about it instead of ignoring your calls?”
Nothing the man did made much sense. Trying to figure it out worked as well as bubble wrap on a hand gre
nade. I pushed my wounded feelings and doubts about my relationship with Gabe down deep enough I’d need an excavator to find them. “You didn’t come here to talk about my OCD. What did you want to tell me?”
My phone vibrated on the table.
Shanna narrowed her eyes. “Speaking of OCD. Since when do you not answer your cell?”
“I’ve been getting a ton of prank calls.”
“Seriously?”
“They started shortly after Gabe moved in. I’m thinking it’s one of his groupies.” My blood ran cold. “Oh my God. I’m so stupid. Why didn’t I think of this sooner?”
“What?”
“Chantal.” I ran through everything I knew about the woman. It made perfect sense. “She called the house the other day. She’s the one harassing me.”
Shanna watched me for a long moment. “It wouldn’t surprise me, but you need to know for sure. I can trace the calls, but I’ll need you to come into the office.”
Her offer tempted me, but I didn’t have the energy to contemplate the implications. They were calls. Scary calls, but they weren’t actual threats. Were they?
The next time it vibrated, Shanna grabbed it before I could stop her.
“Hello.” She turned and narrowed her eyes. “Hi Justin. This is Shanna, Maggie’s friend.”
I wrestled the phone from her. “Hello?”
“It was rude of you to hang up on me the other day. You should know I’ve contacted an attorney.” He sounded far too smug for a guy who’d cheated on his wife.
“You can’t sue someone for hanging up.”
“Not that, you stupid bitch. I’m suing Marchionni. Unless, of course, you two pay up—”
I disconnected and stared at the phone.
“Is he serious?” Shanna rolled her eyes.
“You heard that?”
She nodded. “We need to add him to the list of possible prank callers.”
“There’s no point. It’s not Justin. The prank calls are coming from a woman.”
“Regardless, we should have them traced. In the meantime, give Gabe a heads-up.”
“Yeah. I will.” I cleared the emotion from my throat, but I couldn’t stop my brain from spinning like a roulette wheel. Is this what it would be like to marry into the Marchionni family? How did Rebecca handle it? “What was so urgent you needed to see me today?”
Shanna grinned. “I found the B.M.”
“B.M.?”
“Baby Mama.”
I cringed, not knowing which nickname I found more troubling.
Shanna pulled a thin manila folder from her bag. “She’s a performer on a cruise ship out of New Orleans.”
I opened it as a shot of adrenaline coursed through me. I’d crossed a line that I couldn’t uncross. Nevertheless, I flipped through the pages of typical private investigator documents. The driving and criminal records were unremarkable—although the grainy DMV photo confirmed my suspicions. The woman was gorgeous. More concerning, she looked familiar.
“What is it?” Shanna leaned closer to see what had caught my eye.
“It’s hard to tell from this, but I think I’ve seen her somewhere.”
“I’ll dig up a better image. I’m sure the cruise line has promo material or employee badges.”
“Maybe it’s best you don’t.” I turned my attention back to the file. The credit report and bankruptcy filing surprised me, but the next piece of paper made my stomach turn. “She’s married?”
“Was married.” Shanna lowered her voice. “Her husband committed suicide about eighteen months ago.”
I did some fast math. I blew out a breath. Not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things, but the idea of Gabe sleeping with a married woman made my skin crawl. “Before she got pregnant. Gabe said they dated a few times. You don’t think the suicide had anything to do with him?”
“There’s more.” Shanna perked up. “On a whim, I cross checked the Marchionni files with Chantal’s.”
“I know Papa Joe suspected her of having something to do with the accident.”
“Right, and I think I know why. I got a hit on B.M.’s husband.”
I had trouble keeping up with Shanna, but I thought I had the gist of it. “What does Chantal’s husband have to do with the Marchionnis?”
“Martin Sinclair accused Papa Joe of sabotaging his business in order to force him to sell. A month later, Marchionni Corporation closed on his property, and Martin killed himself.” Shanna sounded like she had hit the Lotto.
“Wait.” I pressed my hand to my stomach to calm the churning.
Shanna didn’t wait. She barreled on. “It gets better. Two months later, Chantal filed for bankruptcy.”
I put the pieces together, but they didn’t add up. “Why did Chantal file bankruptcy? Wouldn’t the cash from the sale…”
“Looks like it wasn’t enough.” Shanna shrugged. “Or maybe they screwed her over?”
“Either way, why would Chantal get involved with a Marchionni after that?” Something told me I didn’t want to know the answer. I stood and paced. “Her husband dies, somehow leaving her broke, and she files bankruptcy. Then she hooks up with Gabe and gets pregnant. Is this all part of a bigger plan?”
“Maybe she wanted proof of wrongdoing and thought Gabe was an easy target?”
“Or she’s after his money, like Justin.” I sank onto the sofa. “I’m going to be sick.”
Shanna put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot to take in.”
“I need to talk to Gabe. He doesn’t know she used him.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not sure of anything, but something isn’t right.”
“This could end badly for Gabe. Chantal obviously needs money, which Gabe has warehouses of. Has he filed anything to establish legal paternity?” Shanna chewed her lower lip.
“I don’t know.”
“Find out.” She stood. “I have to run, but I’ll check in tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Ella. No matter how this all came to be, the baby didn’t deserve to be treated like a bargaining chip.
By the afternoon, I’d worked myself into such a funk I couldn’t unravel the tangle of thoughts wadded up in my head.
Needing cake and needing it bad, I went straight for the kitchen. The store-bought variety never calmed my nerves. In times like these, only my grandmother’s double fudge delight recipe would do the trick.
Zach came home from school first. He took one look at the contents of the counter and went to the pantry for the powdered sugar and cocoa. “Bad day?”
I wiped my eyes on the back of my hand. “I’ve had better. Are you okay with what happened in court today?”
“Yeah, I guess.” He grinned, but I had a feeling he’d done it for my benefit.
“Need extra Xbox time?” While I had a million questions, I refused to put him in the middle of the fight between me and his grandparents.
“I’ll grease and flour the pans.” Zach didn’t ask for an explanation, though I knew he worried.
“Thanks.” I rested my hand on his shoulder and supervised as he scooped out the shortening with a paper towel.
Since I’d become his guardian, he’d developed a fear something would happen to me. The therapists said not to worry. Kids grieving their parents often became protective of their caregivers. That was all fine and well, but I suspected since he was the oldest and a boy, he thought of himself as the man of the house.
Gabe came through the door with Ryan slung over one shoulder, his laptop bag on the other, and Chloe trailing behind him. He glanced between me and Zach. “Is Ella sleeping?”
I stuck my head in the fridge to hide my ugly-cry face. “She’s in her swing.”
“Everything okay? Are you coming down with something?”
I frowned. Of course, he’d comment on my puffy eyes and red nose. “Allergies.”
“You look awful, take something for it.” He set Ryan down. “Any wo
rd from the court?”
“Nope.” I pressed my lips into a thin line and stared. We needed to talk, but not with so many little ears present.
“I referred a Mr. Trudeau to my lawyer today.”
“He called me this morning.”
“Don’t take his calls. Santiago is handling it.” Gabe nodded toward the stairs. “I promised to play with the munchkins.”
“One less thing to worry about, I guess.” I turned my attention back to the cake batter and ignored his irritated sigh. “Have fun.”
Zach and I worked side by side, our silent labor interrupted by giggles and monster noises drifting down from the playroom. It would have been lovely to believe a happy ending waited at the end of the tunnel, but every day my doubts increased.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. “Hello?”
“Hi Maggie, this is Jessie. Can you come in tonight? One of the girls called in sick and I’m in a jam.”
I glanced at the clock. “I can be there in an hour.”
“We’re slammed. Don’t tell my cousin I said this, but the hotter you look, the hotter the tips.”
“Good to know.” I hung up and turned to Zach. “I have to work tonight.”
“Okay.” He gave me a look I couldn’t interpret. Sympathy? Frustration? Anger?
“Are you okay with me being out in the evenings?”
“Yeah, it’s nice having a guy around.”
I forced another smile. “Take the cake out when the timer goes off. You remember how to make the frosting?”
Zach nodded and surprised me with a quick hug. “I love you, Aunt Maggie.”
“I love you too.”
25
Gabe
Chloe grinned and drew in a deep breath. “Aunt Maggie’s baking.”
I pressed pause on the video game and sniffed. Sure enough, the sweet scent of a chocolate cake filled the entire second floor. “My favorite. Must be a special day.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “It’s not a birthday, so she’s sad.”
I tried to wrap my brain around Chloe’s words. “Cakes aren’t for sad days.”
Ryan climbed onto my back for either a pony ride or round two of wrestling. “Cakes are for all days!”
Absinthe Minded: A Mafia Romantic Comedy (Bourbon Street Bad Boys' Club Book 1) Page 15