by Mary Leo
I shuddered remembering my dream. Just seeing him up close again gave me goose bumps. I walked in the opposite direction.
Cousin Audrey handed me a paper cup filled with hot water and a tea bag. Everyone else drank coffee that they’d brought in party-sized thermoses. “Thanks for not telling my parents I’m carrying,” she whispered. “They think I’m still their baby girl. I don’t want to change that for them . . . at least not yet.”
“Growing up in this family is a challenge,” I told her, then we hugged. It was the first time I actually felt a connection to my cousin and I liked it. “If you ever want to talk . . .”
“Thanks, I’d like that,” she said, and we hugged tighter.
As soon as we parted, Bruna handed me a muffin, a chocolate muffin. “They aren’t as good as your orange muffins, but they’re close. Fresh from the bakery,” she said, grinning. “I snitched a couple for later.” Then she tapped her sweater pockets.
“You keep muffins in your pockets?”
“And cookies, and scones, and whatever else. I don’t usually carry a purse, but I always wear clothes with pockets. It’s a habit I got into growing up poor.”
“So you like my orange muffins?”
“Yeah. They’re great,” she leaned in. “Snitched one from Gianna’s private stash when I was getting my hair done the other day. Don’t tell Gianna, though. She doesn’t know it was me and she was boiling mad when she discovered one was gone.”
My stomach lurched. Could I believe her? Was she telling the truth about Gianna? Or was this just a ploy to get me off her trail. Everyone knew Lisa, Jade and I were looking for Angelina’s killer. Was that why Audrey confessed her concerns over her handgun and now Bruna confessed to snitching a muffin from Gianna?
I suddenly felt as though my family was hurling red herrings at me, and they were all beginning to smell. I hated all these meaningless clues, they were making my head spin.
“Can you believe this?” a fifty-something woman asked me. “It’s crazy!”
“Are you a friend of Rocco and Alessandra’s?” I asked, turning to her.
“I don’t know them. We’re here for Trisha and Howie Derwood,” she said, sounding a little miffed over all the noise from my family. “Trisha’s my daughter. Are you a friend of Trisha’s?”
“No. I’m with the Spia family,” I told her, then I picked up a scone with a napkin, and offered it to her. “Have a scone. They were freshly baked this morning at Dolci Piccoli Bakery inside The Spia Olive Press olive orchard. You may have heard of us.”
She backed away. “Weren’t you the ones who . . .”
Everybody knew our name. Even if she didn’t, if she’d watched the local news, she did now. I flashed on that saying that there was no bad publicity and wondered what the hell that meant. At this point it certainly wasn’t helping.
“Yep. That would be the Spias. But here, take the scone.” She took the scone, then I fished through my shoulder bag and pulled out a sample bottle of our olive oil. I handed that to the fifty-something man who’d joined her. He looked a little startled. “It’s our Italian Blend, a little peppery with a kick when it hits the back of your throat, but then the Spias are all about that extra kick. Enjoy,” I said, then flounced on over to join my family who were now getting information from Rocco who had just entered the waiting room, looking a little worse for wear.
It was then that I noticed Jade and Lisa. They’d actually gotten there before me. Apparently, Lisa had ditched her morning writing ritual to attend the baby welcoming party. Funny what got her away from her rigid schedule, only my mother had such power . . . I felt certain she’d been the one to call her.
Both women were in their stylish outfits. Each of them wore impeccable makeup and appeared as though they’d had time to dress, and they’d drove in from the city. I barely ran a comb through my hair, had shoved it up into a clip, wore only mascara, and had thrown on my old jeans that were naturally worn with holes in the knees, a long sleeved gray tee, and fancy flip-flops. I carried a fringed leather purse over my shoulder stuffed with just about anything and everything I could think of that I might need for the day.
Both Jade and Lisa looked as if they’d studied their closets and had decided that a dress was more appropriate for a birth. Lisa wore a cream colored long-sleeved sheath, while Jade wore a bright blue number with matching heels. All she needed was a fascinator hat on her head and she’d look as if she was ready to attend a royal wedding.
“Here, take this,” Lisa said handing me a bright pink makeup bag decorated with tiny white dancing unicorns. “I don’t want this thing in my apartment with Nick hanging around all the time.”
As soon as I held it, I knew it was Angelina’s handgun. “You’re giving this to me now? Here? While we’re inside a hospital?” I leaned in and whispered, “Is it still loaded?”
“Yes, but I secured it.”
“Well, thank God for that,” I muttered as if that made it all better. I shoved the girly makeup bag into my small purse, but it didn’t quite fit, and the grip, tightly covered with pink and white unicorns, stuck out of the top of my purse like a beacon in the night. But perhaps I was overreacting. “Do you think anyone will notice?” I turned so she could get a better look.
“They’ll think you just brought too much makeup,” she said.
“Maybe I should put this in my truck.”
“Did you ever fix the locks on your doors?”
My truck doors no longer locked, and I couldn’t seem to get around to having them fixed.
“No,” I told her, knowing perfectly well what her next words would be.
“Then you can’t leave it in an open vehicle.”
“Why can’t you keep it until we leave?”
“Because I’m already carrying, and I’m licensed for it. Besides, I’m not the one who pinched it. You are. So it’s all yours, babe.”
“You brought a weapon to a hospital?”
“It’s the Spias. Anything can happen and you know I pride myself on being totally prepared at all times.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Jade asked as she came closer. “Everything okay?”
“Angelina’s handgun,” Lisa said without giving it a second thought.
“Is that what’s sticking out of your purse?” she asked me.
“Is it that obvious?” I wanted to know.
“Only to me because I know you wear very little makeup,” Jade said. “But no one else will notice.”
“I see you made it,” my mother announced as she approached.
“Yes. I barely had a chance to get dressed.”
“I can tell,” she said, then she motioned me to come closer. “Dear, if you’re going to start carrying, you should buy a much bigger purse.”
“What? No,” I countered, taking a step back.
“I’m just saying,” she warned.
“Mom, you don’t understand.”
“I understand more than you think, dear. They told us we can go in Alessandra’s room to see little Francesca Gloria, two at a time. I don’t think you should go in there with that thing sticking out of your purse. Alessandra will throw a fit. You know how she feels about firearms of any kind.”
I knew Alessandra hated guns. Rocco had to keep his weapons locked up in a safe in the back of the Deli.
“I won’t go into her room.”
“I think that’s for the best, darling. I’ll give her your regards,” she said and flounced off wearing a soft floral dress, with a soft-pink cardigan with sleeves that covered her chubby little hands, and chunky-heeled shoes. She looked positively adorable with her permanent wide grin that seemed to wipe out the tragedy of Angelina. Mom was nothing if not resilient.
“Rough night?” Lisa asked, while we waited for our turn to congratulate the happy father who was passing out pink candy cigars wrapped in cellophane and tied with a pink ribbon. He seemed really happy, happier than I’d seen him in months. I felt certain that he was delighted his baby h
ad finally arrived and both mom and baby were doing well. I could only imagine those feelings, considering that the chances of me ever having a child was next to impossible. I didn’t think I was exactly mommy material.
Not that I didn’t love kids . . . I did . . . but I just didn’t think they liked me very much. I always felt awkward around them. Besides, I needed to stay sober for at least five years before I could be sure I’d never start drinking again. No kid wanted an alcoholic . . . or a mobster . . . for a parent.
“The roughest,” I whispered under the roar of congratulations. “Besides the fact that I almost slept with Giuseppe, the white Mustang that nearly killed us, twice, is parked out in the ER parking lot.”
Lisa leaned in and sniffed my breath. “Wait. Back up. Did you say you almost slept with Giuseppe? You don’t smell like you’ve been drinking, because that’s the only reason you would have for doing something that stupid. Especially now when you and Leo have been getting along so well.”
“There’s more to the Leo story . . . I think he proposed. I’m not exactly sure, but he mentioned it right before everything went crazy yesterday before the olive tree ceremony.”
“I don’t understand. Either he proposed or he didn’t. I don’t think there’s a mid-point on a marriage proposal,” Lisa said. “This is big news, Mia.”
“Like, especially since everybody thinks you’re marrying Giuseppe,” Jade said. “And why would it be so bad if you and he slept together? I mean now that Angelina is, well, gone, the path is clear for you guys. Or is it too soon? And what will you do about Leo’s proposal? This must be a very confusing time for you. I can understand that part. Then again, it is kind of scary thinking about sleeping with Giuseppe considering that someone didn’t seem to like his past fiancée very much. I don’t think whoever killed her likes the Spias very much or they wouldn’t have hung an already dead girl from one of the ancient trees during your mom’s dedication. Like, that was seriously low.”
Lisa and I merely stood there and listened to how Jade’s brain worked.
“Ya think?” I said, trying desperately not to show all the rage that bubbled up inside of me. I was formulating a theory about everything that had happened so far, but there were still a few loose ends that I wanted to talk over with the girls . . . as soon as I had the chance.
The birth of little Francesca was a happy time, and I really didn’t want to dwell on anything complicated and negative for the moment. Unfortunately, Jade didn’t seem to have any kind of filter on her inner thoughts and liked to work out various scenarios, happy or sad, out loud, usually in front of Lisa and me.
“Wait,” Lisa said, turning to me. “Didn’t you mention something about that white Mustang?”
“Yes,” I said.
“What about the white Mustang?” Jade asked, then she sipped coffee from a paper cup.
“It’s parked out in the ER parking lot,” I told them.
“We need to call that person out,” Lisa stated. “It’s best when one finds themselves in a social situation with their aggressor to simply confront that person. There is, in fact, safety in numbers.”
Lisa, of course, was right, and I proceeded to do just that. “Everyone! Wait a minute! Just one little minute, please! I need your attention.” All conversation stopped, as all eyes turned to me. I took a deep breath and let it out. “The bastard who tried to run us off the road is in this room!” I stated emphatically, with as much expression and pathos as I could whip up after virtually no sleep. “Who drives a white Mustang? Let’s get this thing over with before it gets ugly.”
I saw the Derwoods sneak out of the waiting room, as well they probably should have. No telling where this confrontation would lead.
I put my hand on the bright pink makeup bag sticking out of my purse. I figured if my mom knew there was a handgun inside of it, so did the rest of my family.
The room suddenly became quiet as everyone turned and stared at me.
Zia Yolanda began wailing.
No one moved, and, for a moment, I don’t think anyone, besides Zia Yolanda even breathed.
Then, almost in slow motion, Rocco, new father to baby Francesca, stepped forward and said, “I do. I own a white Mustang. What about it?”
TWENTY-FOUR
A Wine By Any Other Name
“I thought my Alessandra was in labor and all I wanted to do was get to her. I didn’t mean to run you off the road,” Rocco said, as he stood in front of Lisa, Jade and me in the waiting room, holding a basket filled with pink candy cigars. “You just kept getting in my way, and I needed to get out of there.”
That fishy smell was getting stronger. Now even Rocco was getting in on the red herring game.
“Why did you wait until now to tell me?” I asked, thinking that if he was telling the truth, I understood his urgency on the morning we found Giuseppe lying in the road, but still. He could’ve killed us.
“I was going to tell you the other night at Gloria and Benny’s engagement party, but I couldn’t seem to get you alone. I feel awful about it,” Rocco said, looking all apologetic while holding his basket. “I will certainly pay for any damages.”
“You really scared us,” Jade added, her hand now sticking to her hip.
“Ah, but it’s over now. No one was hurt,” Uncle Ray announced.
“Buona fortuna!” Uncle Benny said, and everyone cheered and repeated his well wishes.
This was far from being over.
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” I yelled over the ongoing excitement. “What about my mom’s engagement party? About an hour before it started, when you clipped Lisa’s car getting out of your parking space at Winestock Inn! What were you doing there?”
I could buy the explanation for the first story, but he had some explaining to do for the second encounter. Especially why he was there in the first place.
His apologetic, happy attitude instantly changed. “You’re mistaken. I didn’t drive my Mustang that night. Alessandra and I hitched a ride with your mom and Benny.”
I remembered them walking in behind my mom. He was telling the truth. Then who was driving his car?
“Believe him, dear. We gave them a ride to the party. Rocco and Alessandra tricked us into thinking we were all going out to dinner, but then we ended up at the warehouse.”
“Then, how do you account for the black paint on your front bumper?” I wasn’t giving up on this. There’d still been time while Lisa and I were up in Angelina’s room for him to have gotten back to the orchard and gotten a ride over with my mom and Benny.
“If there’s a black scrape on my bumper, it’s not from hitting Lisa’s car because I wasn’t at Winestock Inn. It could have happened at any time, in any parking lot. But besides that, Alessandra and I were at home, getting ready for the party. What possible reason would I have had for going to the inn?”
“Because that’s where Angelina was staying?”
He walked in closer to me. His charming happy-father face replaced with that of defiance and anger. “What are you insinuating, Mia? I didn’t even have my car that day. I’d leant it to Gianna that afternoon so she could drive into San Francisco to pick up supplies for her salon. She’s been thinking of buying my car and wanted to give it a good test drive. I’m a papa now, so I have to be more practical. That’s why I didn’t have my car. If you want to ask someone about that black paint on my bumper, ask her.” He looked around. “I don’t see her now, but she was here earlier. If she was here, you could learn the truth right this minute. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my wife just had our baby and I’d like to continue to celebrate that blessed event with our family.” He handed each of us a pink candy cigar and gave us a warm embrace with an air-kiss on each cheek.
Once he finished, Lisa held up her coffee cup and in her best Mandarin she wished him all the best for his little family. Everyone toasted with their own paper coffee cups, and once again peace was restored to the Spia clan . . . without Gianna, who was now noticeably missing.
/> Jade, Lisa and I left the hospital without my having visited little Francesca, deciding it was for the best, under the circumstances. Lisa and Jade had visited the little darling, took a ton of pictures, and gave the little sweetheart plenty of loving. My mom gave Alessandra the excuse that I was coming down with a cold, and my mom later said that she seemed grateful that I hadn’t stepped into her room with any possible germs. My mom was sure Alessandra would make everyone around her suffer from “first baby syndrome,” where everything and everyone that came into contact with Francesca had to be sterilized, washed and de-germed. And of course, no one could spend any real time with her without having the proper immunizations as well.
My mom would know because that had been exactly what she’d done with me, and look how great I turned out!
Lisa decided to return to the hospital to do a little more sleuthing, while I’d managed to convince Jade to join me for my hair appointment, and we’d meet up later that morning, before my lunch date with Giuseppe, to compare notes.
Now that we knew Gianna had been driving the Mustang that night at the inn, and, considering what Bruna had told me, Gianna had broken into my apartment. We had a few questions for her. Jade called ahead and asked for a wash and blowout, which Gianna said she could fit in during my appointment, if I didn’t mind. Since the shop was officially closed along with the rest of the orchard, she told Jade that she’d cancelled all the other appointments, and suggested that the other stylists do the same until the entire orchard was open to the public again.
Law enforcement was still investigating the grounds around the trees, along with the warehouse in town. Nick and his team were also still on the job, but we had yet to hear the results of the coroner’s report, which would probably start a whole new investigation.
Angelina certainly hadn’t died from hanging, but so far no one had come back to us with the real cause, and if Nick knew the truth, he wasn’t sharing it with Lisa.