Lena's face flushed with pleasure. She gave Nicoletta's hand a warm squeeze. "That's so sweet of you, but it won't be necessary. Aunt Allegra wanted you to have it all. She mentioned you already had the jewelry, but don't sell any of it until the will goes through probate, okay?"
Mrs. Gavelli frowned. "I no sell. Ever. I keep. Maybe someday I have great-grandchildren, and I give some to them. Or Johnny's bride." She stared at me with menacing black eyes. "If I like her."
Ouch. My poor sister.
"Is the locket Aunt Allegra spoke of in your possession as well?" Lena asked. "The one that is supposed to go to Rosa?"
Nicoletta shook her head. "I no see locket. No idea where it is."
Lena's lips pursed into a slight frown. "That's strange. Why would she gift it to Rosa if no one knows where it is?"
"Do not worry," Grandma Rosa assured Lena. "Remember the saying. It will turn up like a bad nickel."
Josie and I both attempted to hide our smiles. "That's penny, Grandma."
She nodded. "I like that too."
CHAPTER SIX
The heat from the bright sun overhead was intense as Mike and I relaxed poolside at the Paris Hotel in Vegas. Drunk on love, I let him carry me up fifteen flights of stairs to our anniversary suite. Damn. The man wasn't even out of breath either. His blue eyes were wild with passion as he laid me down on the bed and kissed me so intently I thought I might burst into flames.
Then, at that wonderful moment, I spoke those two glorious words in his ear. "I'm pregnant."
I had only seen Mike cry a couple of times during my entire life, but the tears rolled down his cheeks like water gushing from a stream. As we both hugged each other in rapturous joy, the slot machine in our suite rumbled, its colorful lights blinking on and off as coins started to shoot out across the room. Everything was so perfect that I wanted to stay like this forever. A low humming started from the recesses of the machine, gradually becoming louder and louder, threatening to ruin our moment of happiness.
"Honey, make it stop," I pleaded to Mike, but he didn't answer. The noise continued, growing louder and more intense until I couldn't stand it anymore.
I opened my eyes. The room was dark, and Mike was snoring softly, one bare arm draped protectively around my chest. The red digits of the clock on the nightstand stood out against the blackness and alerted me to the fact that it was five o'clock. No Vegas, slot machines, or luxurious pool to speak of. With a sigh, I rolled over onto my back. I was exhausted, but at least we didn't have to get up for another hour.
As I started to snuggle closer to Mike, the humming noise from my dream began again. My cell phone. Panic rose inside me. Who the heck was calling me at this ungodly hour? One thing was for certain—it couldn't be good. My stomach muscles clenched as I reached onto the nightstand to turn the lamp on. In the process, I managed to knock my phone onto the floor.
Mike opened one eye as I got back into bed with the phone. "Who died this time?" he asked sleepily.
"Very funny," I said dryly, but his words filled me with uneasiness. "Hello?"
"Cara mia." My grandmother's voice floated through the phone and sounded a bit shaky.
I sat upright in bed. "Grandma, are you all right?"
"Yes, I am fine," she assured me. "But I need your help. Someone broke into Nicoletta's house."
"Is she okay?" I asked.
"Nicoletta is not hurt. She just called me. She heard a noise and went downstairs to check. The kitchen door slammed, and she saw the outline of someone running down the street in the dark. The contents of her desk were spilled out all over the floor."
I sucked in a deep breath. "It sounds like they were looking for something. Did she say if anything was missing?"
"What's wrong?" Mike switched on the lamp next to him and rubbed sleep from his eyes.
"She does not think so," Grandma Rosa said slowly.
I detected a note of hesitation in her voice. Why did I get the feeling my grandmother was hiding something from me? "She needs to call the police, Grandma. They might be able to find fingerprints."
"Nicoletta said she did not want to call them—yet. Believe me, I tried to get her to call too, cara mia. She says why bother? They will not catch the person."
"Is your grandmother okay?" Mike whispered.
I put a finger to my lips and nodded. "Grandma, she has to call them. What's really going on here?"
Grandma Rosa cleared her throat. "Nicoletta received a terrible note in the mail yesterday."
A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. "What did it say?"
"Do you have time to stop by the house before you go to work this morning?" Grandma Rosa asked. "I would rather tell you about this in person. Have Mike come too. I will make breakfast."
"Of course." I hadn't gone to bed until midnight and was exhausted. My stomach felt a bit queasy as well, but this excited me. Every day I became more and more convinced that I was pregnant but didn't want to say anything until I knew for sure. "I have to open the shop this morning, so I can't stay very long."
"That is fine."
Mike leaned over and kissed me on the shoulder before he got out of bed. He was wearing blue plaid boxer shorts and nothing else, the unshaven stubble of his beard and his tousled hair making him look even more sexy than usual.
"Do you want to come to Grandma's with me for breakfast?" I asked.
He pushed a strand of dark hair off his forehead. "No time, princess. I'm way behind on this job. Tell her thanks for the early wakeup call though—it will help me catch up. I'm going to grab a quick shower and then hit the road." He tossed me a sexy teasing smile over his shoulder. "But there's always room for one more. Join me?"
My face grew warm, and I covered the phone with my hand, praying my grandmother hadn't heard. Then again, Grandma Rosa always seemed to know everything anyway. I nodded to my husband and uncovered my hand from the phone. "Grandma, I'll be there within the hour. Is there anything you need?"
My grandmother sighed. "Yes. Some new friends. The old ones are wearing me out. Ciao, bella." With that, she clicked off.
* * *
An hour and a half later, I was sitting at the small, round table in my parents' kitchen as Grandma Rosa reached for my empty coffee cup. My earlier morning nausea has subsided once I got a whiff of her famous breakfast casserole. With layers of salami, cheese, and eggs baked inside her tender and flaky homemade piecrust, it had been easy for my appetite to make a return.
"More coffee?" she asked.
I placed a hand over the cup. "You don't happen to have any decaf, do you?"
She stared at me in surprise. "You never drink decaf. But I believe there is a box of those K-circles in the cupboard."
I pushed back my chair. "K-cups. I'll grab them. That quiche was amazing, by the way." Everything she made always was.
"Would you like more?" she asked.
"No, thanks. I'm starting to put on a few pounds." I couldn't keep the smile off my face as I hunted in the overhead oak cabinets and found the box of decaf K-cups she'd referred to. As I stuck one into the machine, I noticed her glancing at me curiously. "What?" I asked.
"It is nothing." She adjusted the gold watch on her wrist. "I wonder what is keeping Nicoletta."
The words had barely left her mouth when Nicoletta slammed open the kitchen door without even knocking. I almost did a double take when I saw her. Her short white hair was sticking up all over her head, and the housecoat she wore was wrinkled. Nicoletta looked as if she hadn't slept in about a week. She thrust a bony finger in my face.
"All right, missy hot shot detective. What you gonna do about this one, huh?"
Confused, I stared at her as Grandma Rosa scowled. "I have not told her anything yet, Nicoletta. Sally just finished her breakfast."
"She can eat anytime. She gettin' fat anyhow," Nicoletta growled.
I threw my napkin on the table. "Wow. That's a pretty rotten thing to say."
"Whatever," she grunted. "You help me or no?"
/>
It was difficult to think about helping someone when the urge to choke them flashed through your brain. "Grandma said you received a threatening message in the mail. Do you have it with you?"
Nicoletta thrust her hand into the pocket of the drab gray housecoat and produced a folded piece of paper. "Here, I show you." She handed it to me.
Instinctively I reached for a napkin to grab hold of it.
Nicoletta's lips formed a sneer. "What the matter? I got cooties now?"
Good grief. "You'll have to show it to the police. There's a chance they might be able to lift fingerprints off the paper, so I don't want to touch it. You shouldn't have either. You'll also need to tell them that someone broke into your house."
"Bah." She sat down in the chair next to mine as Grandma Rosa set a cup of coffee in front of her. "This person too smart for that. Cops no find fingerprints."
I studied the note in front of me. The message had been printed from a computer onto an 8 by 11–inch piece of white copy paper in bold, capital letters. It was only one line long but terrifying enough to stop my heart for a few seconds.
Hand them over, old lady, or you're next.
"Holy cow." I glanced up at Nicoletta, who seemed pleased by my startled reaction. "Hand what over?"
She shrugged. "That what I want to know."
I paused to think for a moment. "Is there any chance this note was meant for Allegra and not you?"
Again, Nicoletta shook her head. "No. It addressed to me."
"Do you have the envelope with you?" It was doubtful I'd find any clues, but still worth a shot.
She produced the envelope from her pocket. Why she hadn't bothered to hand it to me with the letter, I had no idea, but that was Nicoletta for you. If she could further complicate the process, she was only too happy to oblige.
To my disappointment, the envelope had also been printed by a computer. A stamp was attached with no return address. The postmark said it had been mailed from New Jersey, which I found interesting since two of Allegra's children lived there. "When did you receive this?"
"The day after Allegra died," she said.
"And you have no idea what they're referring to?"
Her dark eyes surveyed me coldly. "If I know, you think I ask you? Your grandmama say you excellent detective. She brag to Allegra before she die. So you tell me, missy."
"I'm not a fortune-teller, Mrs. Gavelli." I carefully placed the note back into the envelope. "We need to show this to Brian."
Nicoletta shook her head. "No. He not real cop."
I drew my eyebrows together. "What does that mean?"
"He too good-looking to be a cop," she insisted. "He like the fake ones on TV. I need to think this through first. Allegra's death no accident. She murdered."
I glanced up at my grandmother, who was standing against the kitchen counter with a dish towel in hand. "Is that what you think too?"
My grandmother looked from me to Nicoletta and then slowly nodded her head. "Yes, I do. I have thought this all along."
A chill crept down my spine as the non-squealing brakes came to mind again. "Who could have wanted her dead, and why?"
"Besides Josie, you mean." Nicoletta's tone was filled with contempt.
My patience was wearing thin. "Mrs. Gavelli, you know that Josie didn't have anything to do with this. They had an argument. Josie didn't push her out into the street or drive over her."
The kitchen door burst open at that moment, and my sister and Johnny both rushed in. "What's going on?" Gianna cried.
Johnny put an arm around Nicoletta's skinny shoulders and then knelt down beside her. "Gram, are you hurt?"
She patted Johnny on the head like he was a dog. "I tell you on the phone I okay. No need to make fuss."
"You scared us half to death," he muttered. Johnny had classic Italian good looks that consisted of wavy black hair and dark eyes that were usually brimming with some type of mischief. At the moment, they were full of concern as he stared at his grandmother. "Looks like everyone else beat us here. Why didn't you call me as soon as it happened?"
Nicoletta gave a loud harrumph. "I decide to go through Allegra's things and see if I find something robber want. I pretty good detective too."
Johnny rolled his eyes at this declaration then pointed a finger at me. "She wants to solve a mystery like you have."
Uh-oh. I wasn't sure if I was ready for Nicoletta as a potential sidekick. Then again, it might work. She could definitely scare a killer to death.
Nicoletta addressed my grandmother. "I no find locket either."
"What locket?" Gianna asked.
"It is nothing," Grandma Rosa assured her. "Allegra left me a gold locket in her will. We were at the reading last night—Nicoletta, your sister, Josie, and me."
Gianna looked baffled by this revelation. My baby sister was my pride and joy, and I was proud of the conscientious attorney she had become. She was always so perfect and well put together—until now. She still looked beautiful, but something seemed off about her. Gianna's face was thinner than usual, and there were pronounced circles under her eyes.
I knew that Gianna's caseload as a public defender had increased as of late and suspected that was the cause for her weariness—unless she and Johnny were having problems. She was dressed for a day at the office in a gray pencil skirt, white silk blouse, and black heels. Her lovely chestnut-colored hair that always fell so perfectly around her shoulders was windblown and the delicate blouse wrinkled. She wore no makeup and never needed any, but her face was devoid of color.
"Let me get this straight," Gianna said. "There was a memorial held last night without a body. Then you all traipsed over to her niece's office for a reading of the will? What's Lena's number? I'd like to talk to her. This sounds unethical."
"What you know," Nicoletta growled and punctuated her speech with a loud harrumph. "Allegra write all this down. That the way she want it done, and Lena only follow her orders. Lena a smart one. She going to be partner at the firm soon. Unlike some people."
Annoyance crept into Johnny's face. "Gram, stop comparing her to Gianna. They practice entirely different types of law. And everyone in this state knows that even though Martin Ambrose doesn't practice law, he owns the firm. Call me crazy, but maybe that's why his wife, who just passed the bar earlier this year, is already up for a partnership."
How interesting. Maybe everyone had known that—except me, that is. "Why don't we get back to the situation at hand." I looked at Johnny. "Your grandmother doesn't want the police to know someone broke into her house or that she received a threatening note. It said to 'hand them over or she was next.'"
Johnny was thunderstruck. "What the hell, Gram? You have to call the police."
"No cuss." Mrs. Gavelli tapped a finger to the side of her head. "Sally help me find out who did this."
So now she'd decided she wanted my help. I couldn't keep track. "Let's think for a minute. Is there anyone who might know what this person was looking for?"
Mrs. Gavelli paused to consider. "Maybe Violet."
"The daughter who lives in Vegas?" I asked.
She nodded. "She the only one that Allegra ever speak to. She talk to Violet on the phone same day she die."
"What did they say?" Gianna asked.
"How I know?" Nicoletta said angrily, "I no snoop."
Yeah, right.
"I think," Grandma Rosa said calmly, "that I should move in with Nicoletta for a while. I do not want her there by herself." She stared at Johnny. "Unless you were planning to."
Johnny's face was pained as he glanced from his grandmother to Gianna. "My best friend from college is getting married this weekend. I'm leaving this afternoon for California, and I won't be back until late Monday. But Gram is always welcome to stay with us." His eyes searched Gianna's face as if for confirmation. "Right, sweetheart?"
Gianna's head whipped around so fast I swore I felt a breeze in the room. The look she gave him might have stopped traffic. Oh, yeah, Johnny wa
s definitely getting a tongue-lashing later.
"Aren't you going too?" I asked my sister. She hadn't mentioned the trip to me. Then again, I hadn't seen her in several days.
She shook her head. "No, my caseload is insane right now." She dropped her gaze to the floor. "Too bad because I could really use a vacation."
Johnny kissed the top of her head. "You definitely could, my love. You're pushing yourself too hard."
My cell phone buzzed, and I glanced down at the screen. "Jos?"
"Yeah, it's me." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm at the shop."
"Okay, I'm on my way over. What are you doing there so early? It was my turn to open."
Her voice sounded shaky. "I…uh, had to finish making a cake for Stephanie Stein's bridal shower. Sal, call Brian and have him meet you here."
Another nervous shiver slid down my spine. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Someone broke in and trashed the apartment over the bakery."
CHAPTER SEVEN
"You didn't touch anything, right?"
Josie gave Brian a disbelieving look. "We're not exactly new at this, Officer. Our shop has been broken into before, if you recall. Sal and I have pretty much seen it all by now."
A muscle twitched in Brian's jaw, but to his credit, he didn't say anything. Sure, we might have seen it all, but there was no doubt Brian had too. Although only a couple of years older than myself, some gray hairs had already started to mix in with his fine blond strands, and slight wrinkles were forming around his eyes. Being a police officer was a stressful job no doubt, but somehow, I sensed I was a contributing factor to his aging process.
"Why didn't the alarm go off?" Brian wanted to know.
"Nicoletta said she dropped by last night to get a few items left upstairs. She thinks she may have forgotten to turn it back on. Her friend Ronald was with her."
Brian narrowed his eyes. "Ronald Feathers? The old man who lives down your street and couldn't hear a train coming if it ran next to him?"
"The very same one." Ronald was Mrs. Gavelli's sometime boyfriend. He was eighty years old and hard of hearing, which might not be a bad thing where Nicoletta was concerned. "I didn't know Nicoletta still had the key to the building, but I politely asked for it back this morning."
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