Crumbled to Pieces

by Catherine Bruns

  Grandma Rosa nodded her approval. "That is a good plan. Then we can stop and get you something to eat. You look hungry."

  "How do you always know everything?" I asked in disbelief.

  "I do not know everything," Grandma Rosa admitted. "But I do know you, cara mia. And you are definitely hungry."

  Josie and I waited until they were safely in their room before we closed the door to ours and slid the lock in place. I tossed my duffel bag onto one of the queen-sized beds and drew out my cosmetic bag and a fresh change of clothing.

  "If we find Violet right away, we can come back and eat, then go to the casino for drinks and gambling. I want to play the penny slots," Josie said as she changed her clothes.

  "You and those slots," I teased as I threw on a pair of black shorts and a pink V-neck T-shirt. I was glad to have brought both sandals and sneakers with me. It had to be about 110 degrees outside, and even with the air conditioning on, I was sweltering.

  Josie glanced around the room. "There's no fridge in here. What kind of hotel is this?"

  "One with only the basics, I guess." There were two beds, a flat screen television, and a small wooden table and chairs, plus the adjoining bathroom. "We're only here for two nights. You can rough it."

  Josie snorted. "Man, I don't mean to complain. Your grandmother is paying, so I feel like a heel for saying anything. But I do feel that I deserve to treat myself. If I win big, we're getting a suite, girlfriend." She plopped down on her bed. "Are there any male revue shows around here?"

  I whipped my head around from the mirror where I was fixing my hair. "Josephine Sullivan, I am not going to any of those shows, and neither are you. You have a good-looking husband at home, not to mention four adorable little boys."

  "Hey, I may be married, but I'm not dead," she protested. "There's no harm in looking."

  I grabbed a pair of sunglasses from my bag. "Well, I have no desire to look. My man is all I want to look at."

  "Ah, you're no fun," she complained. "Wait until you're an old married lady like me with a bunch of kids. Then you'll long for these kid-less opportunities."

  "Nope." I grinned. "It's not gonna happen." My hair was already sticking to my face and neck because of the oppressive heat. As I pulled it into a ponytail, someone pounded on our door.

  "We ready!" Nicoletta's voice boomed from the other side.

  Josie clenched her fists. "Okay, as soon as we find Violet we can ditch the devil in her black dress for the rest of the trip, right?"

  "You two need to behave." I opened the door and blinked, trying to adjust my eyes to the sight in front of me. Grandma Rosa stood next to Nicoletta in black slacks and a gray, short-sleeved cotton blouse. Nicoletta was still wearing the same black housecoat, stockings, and her Birkenstock shoes. Heat rose inside me like a sauna at the sight of her. "Mrs. Gavelli, you're going to fry in that outfit."

  She waved her hand dismissively as we rode the elevator car down to the lobby. "I not show my body off around here. I no temptress."

  "That's for sure," Josie mumbled. "Plus, you're used to hot places."

  "Jos," I warned.

  Nicoletta ignored the remark. "I hear stories about this city. It full of sluts. I set example for the younger generation."

  "The younger generation does not care about you," my grandmother retorted. "There are other things far more interesting than you around here."

  We hailed another cab, and Nicoletta gave the driver Violet's address.

  The driver, a mustached man who was definitely wearing a hairpiece, raised a questioning eyebrow. "I believe that's a gated community, ladies. You do realize you won't be able to get in unless the owner is home?"

  "Sure, we know," Nicoletta growled. Then she turned to me. "What he mean?"

  "Violet's home must have security in place." It sounded a bit high-class to me. "Didn't you say she was a dealer in the casino?"

  Nicoletta nodded. "That what her mama always tell me. Why?"

  "Oh, no reason." Personally, I didn't think dealers made a lot of money, but heck, what did I know? Maybe Allegra sent Violet money. Perhaps her husband was wealthy—if she even had a husband.

  When we reached the street where Violet's home was located, I looked past the iron gate, and my jaw dropped in amazement. These were not average-style houses like the small ranch where Mike and I lived. These were million-dollar homes with swimming pools and lavish lawns that thrived even in this godforsaken heat. Violet must be quite the dealer. Only, what was she dealing?

  The cab stopped at a small booth to the left of the gate, and a bald, heavyset man slid the side window open and smiled at all of us. "Help you?"

  "How's it going?" the cabbie asked before Nicoletta leaned across him and gave the guard Violet's information.

  "Let me check and see if she's home." The guard, whose nametag identified him as Max, closed the window and picked up a phone. He stared into space for several seconds, then placed the phone down and reopened the window. "Miss Fiato isn't answering. Sorry."

  "Do you know when she might be back?" I asked.

  Max leaned in closer to get a look at me. "Sorry, but I can't give out any information about the owner's whereabouts. I suggest you call first next time. Have a great day."

  "What a hummer," Grandma Rosa sighed.

  "That's bummer, Rosa." Josie elbowed me in the side. "Now what do we do?"

  "I'll have to proceed down this street and over to the next. It's one way," the driver told us.

  There was a man in shorts and a white polo shirt on the lawn across the street from the security booth. He was busy adjusting one of the lawn sprinklers. How do they stand this heat? I leaned forward in the seat and spoke to the driver. "Can you pull up next to that man? I'd like to get out and talk to him for a minute."

  "Sure thing," he said and placed the car in park.

  I turned to Nicoletta. "Can I see that picture of Violet you have?"

  She handed me a manila envelope, and I removed an 8 by 10 photograph. My eyes widened as I stared at the picture. Violet was gorgeous. Her heart-shaped face was surrounded by a black shimmering halo of curls and featured dark, almond-shaped eyes with long lashes, a pert nose, and full red, pouty lips. "Are you sure this is her?"

  "What am I? Batty?" Nicoletta grunted. "Of course it her. She beautiful girl, no?"

  Josie leaned over for a look. "She doesn't look like her brother or sister, that's for certain."

  "She seems a lot younger too," I mused.

  "Violet the baby," Nicoletta said. "About ten years younger than Anna."

  The meter was running, so I opened the door and made my way over to the maintenance worker, a slim man in his forties.

  He looked up and smiled. "Help you with something, miss?"

  "Yes." A lie quickly took shape in my brain, and I held out the picture to him. "My sister, Violet Fiato, lives in the complex. I've been trying to reach her by phone, but she didn't answer. I wondered if you knew her."

  The man took the photo from my hands and studied it. "Oh, sure. I don't remember her name, but there's no way I'd forget a face like that. She's only been here a few months, right?"

  "Yes." It seemed like the right amount of time given what I'd been told. My fibbing continued. "She came from New York. Uh, sis doesn't know I'm coming. It's a surprise, in case you happen to see her first."

  "Gotcha." He removed his hat and scratched his straw-colored hair thoughtfully. "I always see her in the morning on her way home. She just left here—oh, about twenty minutes ago? She waved to me. Sorry you missed her."

  Damn. "So she does work nights at the casino, then. I wondered if her schedule might have changed."

  He shrugged. "Well, I have no idea where she works, but she's always dressed to kill. Driving that red Porsche doesn't exactly hurt her image either. Gorgeous lady. Good looks run in your family, if I may say so."

  "Thank you," I said politely. "My sister is always so bad about answering her messages. I guess I'll have to stop by again in the
morning."

  He studied me, his broad forehead creasing into a frown. "None of my business, but that's a pretty long shift for working at a casino. I usually see her drive back home around eight or nine o'clock in the morning. If I were you, I wouldn't come back before then."

  I nodded. "Will do. Thanks for all your help."

  He tipped his cap and winked. "Anything for a pretty lady."

  I returned to the cab, and four pairs of eyes fixated on me.

  "What he say?" Nicoletta demanded.

  "You can take us back to the hotel, please," I told the driver. "It looks like Violet works nights, and we just missed her. Let's grab something to eat and then go over to the MGM Grand to try to find her. If she's not there, we can come back here early tomorrow morning. The maintenance guy usually sees her around eight o'clock or so."

  "That seems a very long shift to work," Grandma Rosa said, echoing his comment. "Perhaps she has a boyfriend and stays at his house."

  Nicoletta drummed her fingers loudly against the glove compartment until the driver gave her a dirty look that suggested he wanted to cut them off. "I not sure. She have boyfriend in New York before. I not know who, but Allegra say it end badly. This happen about the same time her papa die in Italy. So she come to Vegas. Allegra have to deal with this and Felipo's death—it all too much. Violet tell her mama she need to get away. Very upset she was."

  As the cab drove away, I found myself more intrigued with this woman and wondered what the whole story was. Sure, I'd never met Violet, but it didn't take a mathematician to realize something was not adding up. Violet had come out here to live a few months ago and gotten herself an impressive job as a dealer. Somehow, she was already living in a million-dollar home and driving a Porsche.

  What was the real deal with this supposed dealer? Where was all of this money coming from? With uneasiness, I wondered if it might have something to do with Violet's family—namely, her mother's murder.

  CHAPTER TEN

  An hour later, we were back inside one of the Tropicana's restaurants, and I was happily stuffing my face with any food I could lay my hands on. I was so ravenous that I'd already devoured a bacon cheeseburger with a double order of fries and a chocolate milkshake. Josie had ordered a steak while Grandma Rosa and Nicoletta both ate club sandwiches.

  When we'd first ordered, Nicoletta had wasted no time in trying the waitress's patience. "I tell you I want this." She'd grunted and pointed at the menu.

  The waitress had looked pained. "Ma'am, that's the children's menu. You have to be ten or under to get the hamburger patty special."

  Grandma Rosa had placed a hand on Nicoletta's arm and spoke. "Bring her the turkey club sandwich, please."

  "I cannot eat all this!" Nicoletta complained.

  Grandma Rosa looked over at me and nodded. "Sally will help you."

  Good grief. "Hey, give me a break. I haven't eaten all day."

  Josie grinned as I swiped her coleslaw. "Girl, it's like you have a tapeworm. What's going on?"

  "She too fat," Nicoletta grunted.

  I inhaled the rest of my milkshake and gave her an evil eye. "I'm not fat." I'm just eating for two.

  "Sally is not fat," Grandma Rosa agreed. "She never eats when she is upset about something. So it is nice to see her happy."

  I'd never thought of that reasoning before, but she was right. Even here in Vegas with the sweltering heat and nasty Nicoletta Gavelli seated across from me, I was happy. Blissfully happy and counting my blessings.

  Nicoletta emptied the sugar packets from the caddy on the table into her massive-sized, black leather purse. She added the jam and jelly samples to her haul. For a moment, I waited to see if she was going to swipe the silverware as well. "Enough with food," she grunted. "I need to go to casino now and win big. We go to the MGM and find Violet. We walk there."

  "In this heat?" Josie cried out.

  Nicoletta tossed her head. "It good for Sally. She need the exercise."

  I sucked in a deep breath and fought the urge to wrap my hands around the elderly woman's neck. Be nice, Sal. She's been sick. Nicoletta would be singing a different tune when she discovered why I was eating everything in sight. Until then, I decided to ignore her snark and reminded myself that things could always be worse. Heck, what if I was Gianna? Maybe that was the real reason my poor sister looked so haggard. The thought of Nicoletta living with her and Johnny—even for a few days—would wear anyone out.

  My phone buzzed from my pocket, and I glanced down at the name on the screen. Brian. Uh-oh. It was highly unlikely that he was calling to ask about the weather in Vegas. I waved at Grandma Rosa and Nicoletta. "You two go ahead. We'll catch up." After they were out the front doors, I stayed behind in the lobby with Josie by my side. "Hey, what's up?"

  "Are you in Vegas yet?" he wanted to know.

  "Yes, we arrived a couple of hours ago. Is everything okay?"

  He ignored my question by asking another. "Have you seen Violet Fiato?"

  "No. We went to her house when we arrived, but she wasn't home. I talked with a maintenance guy who said he thinks she works evenings. We're going to the MGM Grand right now to see if we can find her. If not, we'll head back over to her house in the morning."

  Brian cleared his throat. "Her sister, Anna, got picked up for speeding today. When one of my co-workers pulled her over, he gave her a sobriety test. Her blood alcohol content was .22. That's almost three times the legal limit."

  "Holy cow." I brought a hand to my mouth and stared at Josie, who shot me a puzzled look. "We saw her the other night after the wake, and it was obvious she'd had a few then. At the time I thought maybe she'd knocked back a couple because of the stress associated with her mother's death."

  "Yeah, well, I'm guessing there's more to it than that," Brian said. "When she was brought into the station, she became totally uncooperative. She went berserk when the cuffs were placed on her wrists and then blurted out to the arresting officer that it was all her mother's fault. Allegra had ruined her life, and she hoped her mother rotted in hell. Then she said something really weird."

  "Because what she said so far sounds totally sane and rational."

  Brian heaved a long sigh. "My, someone's feeling sarcastic."

  "It's been a long day," I said wearily. "Any day spent with Nicoletta Gavelli seems to drag on forever."

  "True that," Josie agreed.

  Brian laughed on the other end. "Anyhow, Anna wanted to know why she was being harassed for having one little beer when the rest of her family was getting away with murder. Then she mumbled something about her sister having a dirty little secret and maybe that's why she ran her mother over."

  A mammoth-sized chill spread through me. "That's insane. Violet couldn't have done it. She wasn't even in town that day."

  "Wrong," Brian said. "We found a plane ticket in Violet's name. She flew into Buffalo Niagara Airport the day before the hit-and-run then flew out the next evening, a couple hours after her mother's death. The Vegas police will definitely be questioning her, but I'll be interested in hearing what you find out as well."

  "This is sick," I muttered. "Then again, I'm not sure what Anna's saying can be trusted either. Is she in jail?"

  "Her brother, Enzo, bailed her out," Brian said. "She'll be back in court in a couple of weeks. Remember to let me know if you track Violet down. And Sally?"

  "Yes?"

  There was a moment's hesitation on the other end. "Please be careful."

  I relayed everything to Josie as we walked out of the Tropicana. We spotted Grandma Rosa and Nicoletta about two blocks ahead of us on the Strip and quickened our pace to catch up with them. While we walked along, I snapped pictures of the various hotels around us. The trip was worth it just for the hotels, I decided.

  "That family gives me the creeps," Josie admitted. "Did you ever meet a more insane one?"

  I snapped a shot of the Statue of Liberty outside the New York-New York Hotel. "Well, if you recall, Colin's family had a few iss
ues as well. And as we're both aware, my parents aren't exactly normal either."

  "True enough," she admitted. "But your parents wouldn't hurt a fly. They're the friendly type of crazies. Speaking of which, where do you think they took off to?"

  It was approaching seven o'clock in the evening, and a welcome breeze had started to filter through the air. I wiped away the sweat gathering on my forehead. Thankfully the MGM Hotel wasn't much farther. Grandma Rosa and Nicoletta were still a few paces ahead of us. Nicoletta was talking earnestly, waving her hands in the air, and my grandmother was nodding in response. "Who knows. It probably has something to do with that literary agent my father's been stalking."

  Josie shook her head. "Okay, so your parents would never hurt anyone, but they're not exactly the sharpest crayons in the box either. Is there any reason to be worried they might end up arrested?"

  This made me chuckle. "Hey, you never know with them."

  The front doors of the MGM brought us right into the casino, which was larger and brighter than the one inside the Tropicana. The smell of cigarette smoke immediately hit my nostrils, and nausea built in my stomach. This was probably the combination of several things—overindulging at dinner and the heat, plus cigarette smoke always made me sick.

  "You ask about Violet," Nicoletta ordered. "Check out all the tables."

  "Mrs. Gavelli, do you know how many dealer tables there are in here?" I asked in disbelief.

  "Never mind," she grunted. "We ask too. Come, Rosa."

  My grandmother looked over at us and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. I almost fell over because that was something she never did. My grandmother had the patience of a saint. It just went to show that everyone had their limits, especially as far as Nicoletta Gavelli was concerned.

  "Why didn't you tell her what Brian said about Anna?" Josie asked.

  "Because I don't think it's a good idea." Heck, her wrath might shake the entire casino. "If she flies off the handle when we find Violet, she might scare her away before we can learn anything useful."

  "That's good thinking," Josie admitted. "Nicoletta has even less tact than I do, so you might be on to something there. Come on. I'm feeling lucky and see penny machines with my name on them."