by Rita Moreau
The Russian & Aunt Sophia
A Mary Catherine Mahoney Mystery
Rita Moreau
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.
Copyright © 2017 Rita Moreau
Cover Design by George Moreau
Printed in the United States of America
Titles by Rita Moreau
Novels
Bribing Saint Anthony
Nuns! Psychics! & Gypsies! OH NO!!
Feisty Nuns
Novella
The Russian & Aunt Sophia
1
“MC, your Aunt Sophia has been arrested.” CLICK.
“Whaaattt?” I hollered at my cell, as an enormous brown pelican flew over my head and took that opportunity to lighten its load across the spotless bow of my namesake the Mary Catherine.
“Theo,” I called while I stared at my cell like it was going to talk to me and tell me what the call from my Aunt Anna was all about.
I fumbled with it until I found their number and called her back. God forbid I would have to dial their number by heart!
I waited while my aunt’s number rang and rang and basically took control of my life. I could see my handsome Greek husband making his way toward me. As he slowly and calmly walked my way, my Greek genes took over, and I started waving my other hand over my head. Finally, it went to voicemail, and I heard my Aunt Sophia’s distinctive voice, “You have reached Sophia and Anna. Leave a number, and we will return your call. Speak loud and clear please.” BING
“Aunt Anna, what do you mean Aunt Sophia was arrested? Call me!” I hollered into my phone as if that was necessary.
The Mary Catherine was moored in Charlotte Harbor’s shark-infested waters, off the west coast of Florida. My aunts were clear across the state, on the east coast in Fish Camp, the small town where I grew up that sits just a little ways north of Miami and Fort Lauderdale.
Hanging up, I looked into my husband’s dark eyes and said, “Aunt Anna just called and said Aunt Sophia has been arrested.”
He just looked at me and chuckled, “Really? Well, I am sorry for that arresting officer.”
Flabbergasted I said, “Are you kid—”
“Give your Aunt Anna time to call you back and explain. For now, come with me. I need your help down below.”
He turned and headed back the way he came. I let out a big sigh, waved my hands in the air, and followed my soul mate. I’ve done this through two marriages and probably many prior lifetimes. Just the same, I held on to my cell with my tight, hang-on-for-dear-life rollercoaster grip before shoving it into my pocket. My psychic sense told me I was in for a ride.
2
In his vast office overlooking Atlantic City, Big Pete sat at his desk reading the letter his son Dominick had just handed him. Dominick was prepared for his father’s explosive reaction and looked calmly out through the floor to ceiling windows at the beach and waited patiently for the outburst to blow over. It didn’t take long because Big Pete’s short but very round body was soon out of breath. A former KGB operative, he came to the U.S. with a sizeable chunk of money after the Soviet Union fell apart. He’d invested wisely in real estate starting with the building they were in today.
Big Pete tossed the letter across his desk at his son, “What is wrong with that woman?”
“She is a stubborn woman and, unfortunately, she is not alone. She is the president of the condo board and has a lot of support among the owners. But, we need all condo owners of Pirate’s Cove to agree to the buyout, not just a majority,” Dominick said.
“We should move on,” prompting another loud outburst by his father.
“No!” I want that development, and this puny Greek woman will not stand in my way. I want Dmitri to fly down and meet with her. She is probably holding out for more money. Just like a woman. Find her price, and pay her. Money is no object. You know I have more than enough.”
He waited while his father caught his breath and calmed down. If only he would keel over and be done with it.
Dominick knew money was not an issue. In fact, cash was an ongoing problem for his father and their business associates. It wasn’t like they could take it down the street to the bank and deposit it. They had to be careful. Moving large sums of cash around was an art.
“You’re letting your emotions and this war with the condo president cloud your thinking, Father. Pirate’s Cove is in Fish Camp, a small hick town. We should be concentrating on metro Miami-Dade County while the market is hot. There are condominiums along Brickell Avenue. They are priced right, close to downtown Miami and the owners are ready to sell. The location is perfect for building a mixed development of office space, restaurants, shops and luxury condominiums.”
Dominick paused and waited for a response. He knew his father would eventually let him in on why he wanted to buy this condominium. Maybe he would do that now.
“Margo likes it in Fish Camp.”
There it was. Dominick held his composure, along with his temper. His stepmother Margo was the reason. He should have guessed.
Big Pete continued, “I wish to build her a home nearby in Boca Vista. Her sister Masha lives in Boca Vista. Margo wants to be near family, and her sister is her only family. I am not getting any younger, Dominick. I am considerably older than Margo. Fish Camp is a good location for me. Then he added the plum, “I am ready for semi-retirement.”
“Margo will be busy building and decorating our new home in Boca Vista. Close by in Fish Camp I will stay busy. The Pirate’s Cove condominium is the perfect size for development.”
“Father, the location may be fine for a retirement home for you and Margo but not for an upscale real estate development. It will take years for this area to catch up to south Florida, if ever,” Dominick said now firmly. Big Pete had calmed down and turned reflective.
“Yes, you are correct. It may take a few years to catch up, but it is close to beaches and several good golf courses. Either way, I have the money to wait to see if it does or doesn’t.”
Dominick watched as his father slowly got up. He ambled his sizeable self over to the window to look out at the view. This was a lot of exercise for Big Pete.
Dominick was quiet as he brushed imaginary lint off his expensive custom-tailored suit. Unlike his father, he was a flashy dresser. He looked at his Presidential Rolex while he waited; drumming his fingers on top of his well-defined quadriceps muscle. It sounded more and more like his father’s mind was made up.
“The location is also perfect for our investments. Fish Camp may be a hick town, as you call it, but that also means that it is under the radar.” Big Pete now started to turn to face his son, “Dominick, I’m sure you know what I mean.”
Dominick nodded his head. He knew what his father meant. Big Pete’s older brother Victor controlled a bank in Moscow. Big Pete was the key to moving money out of Russia and into the U.S., for estate tax reasons as his father liked to call it. Their ownership in real estate ventures was hidden in a complicated financial maze set up by a team of lawyers in Panama.
Big Pete now turned around and looked at Dominick,
Pete continued, “I do agree with you about south Florida. Continue to look into investments in Miami or Fort Lauderdale. For down the road, when I retire.” And then he added, “Completely.”
When I completely retire? In other words, when I die.
Dominick waited while his father slowly made his way back to his seat behind the desk.
His father had delivered his message. He would come up with a way for his father to buy out the remaining owners of Pirate’s Cove. He had no other choice short of pushing his father off a bridge.
If this will keep Margo happy and father out of my hair, I will make it work. But first, I will have to deal with that Greek woman. That may take something stronger than money to get her on board. I will have to apply … a little persuasion, but Sophia Samos will come around and see things my way. Meanwhile, the clock is ticking.
“All right father. I will talk with Uncle Dmitri and get it set up.”
As Dominick left his father’s office, he was fuming. As he passed his father’s secretary, he snapped at her, “Inga. No more sweets.” Inga expected this as Dominick sped toward the elevator. It was an old record, played over and over.
“Yes sir, of course, sir.”
After she made sure Dominick was gone, Inga slowly lifted her hand and quickly finished the chocolate she’d been nibbling on when he came out of Big Pete’s office. She stuffed the remaining chocolates in her large black purse.
Goodness, she sighed. No wonder I’m can’t lose any weight.
3
It wasn’t until later in the evening that I finally got ahold of Aunt Anna. “What is going on Aunt Anna? What do you mean Aunt Sophia has been arrested? Arrested for what?”
“Murder, she’s been arrested for murder.” MC dropped her cell and accidentally disconnected her Aunt Anna. When she called back, it went immediately to voicemail.
“Dang gummy bear. Theo, I have to go to Fish Camp. Aunt Anna said that Aunt Sophia’s been arrested for murder.”
Theo looked at her, “Who did she murder?”
“I have no idea. I dropped my cell when Aunt Anna just called, and when I called back I got dumped to voicemail, and their mailbox is full!”
Theo took out his cell and made a call.
“Who are you calling?”
“Not your Aunt Anna.”
“Ernie, this is Theo. Please call MC back as soon as you get this message.”
MC’s cell rang almost immediately. It was Ernie.
“Ernie, what the heck is going on with Aunt Sophia? Aunt Anna just called and said she has been arrested for murder!” MC said as Theo reached over and switched her cell to speakerphone.
“Ernie, it’s Theo, we have you on speaker.”
“Your Aunt Sophia hasn’t actually been arrested, yet. She is being questioned in connection with a murder. The victim was Ivan Petrolia. He worked for the Russian who is buying out Pirate’s Cove.”
“I’m confused. What does this have to do with my Aunt Sophia?”
“He came to her for card readings. The police say that she was the last person to see him alive. She really did see him that night for a card reading, but she refuses to talk to the police about the card reading. Your Aunt Sophia has the same rules for her readings as priests do for the confessional. What goes on in her card readings, stays in her card readings.
“Boca Vista has a new police chief, and he is making sure everyone knows there is a new sheriff in town. He was ready to arrest your Aunt Sophia for the murder, but she used her one phone call to call me. I called someone I know, and she was released without being arrested.”
“I’m coming to Fish Camp to get to the bottom of this. I need to talk to Aunt Sophia,” MC said.
“Limo Louie is representing her. She won’t talk to him either, but she did agree she might need a lawyer.”
“Limo Louie? I’ll be on the next plane out,” MC said as she rolled her eyes in the direction of Theo.
“Louie is worried. He doesn’t trust this new chief of police. He said he might try to piece together a circumstantial case so he can arrest her just to show quick action on the case.”
“Mother of God and all the saints above,” was all MC could say.
* * * *
Theo drove MC to the airport in Fort Myers the next morning. Dropping her off at the terminal, Theo held MC close and said, “If your Aunt Sophia refuses to talk you know you will have to use your psychic skills to find out what happened that night. Stop fighting them. Your Aunt Sophia needs both you and them now.”
MC nodded and responded, “I will. I promise. I love you.”
As she waited for her plane, she thought about Theo’s words, and she knew he was right. She was going to have to use skills she inherited from a long line of ancestors to figure out what her Aunt Sophia saw in the card readings. It had something to do with this murder. She had seen that much in a dream in an otherwise sleepless night while worrying about her aunt. In the dream she walked in a place called Dreamland, a place a gypsy once told her was located somewhere between the visible and invisible worlds.
4
I heard a horn honking and turning to look, I saw Sister Matilda driving a big SUV with Sister Hildegard riding shotgun. I grabbed my carry-on bag and jumped into the back seat. Like most airports today, loading and unloading means you take a flying leap as the car picking you up passes by.
“Who does this SUV belong to?”
“A friend of Ernie’s,” Sister Matilda said.
“It has diplomatic plates.”
“He’s in the CIA,” Sister Matilda said, “according to your Aunt Anna.”
“Yes,” Sister Hildegard spoke now, “but a lot of good that does picking someone up at the airport. No way would the airport cops let us park and wait. We’ve been circling the airport for a good half hour.”
“You didn’t park in the cell phone lot?”
“We forgot our cell phone,” Sister Hildegard said looking sternly at Sister Matilda who made the sign of the cross. “So, we’ve been driving in a loop. Your plane was late,” Sister Hildegard said.
“You don’t need a cell phone to park in the cell phone lot,” I said, prompting Sister Hildegard to give Sister Matilda an even sterner look. Sister Matilda was a walking encyclopedia of information. She apparently missed this one.
“Plus, the GPS system seems to only speak Italian. So that was no help,” Sister Matilda said, ignoring my comment while looking straight ahead as she drove out of the Miami airport.
“Thank you for picking me up, and I am so glad to see the both of you. It’s been awhile.” I decided not to say any more about the cell phone lot. No need to get down in the weeds. I had more important things to talk about to these two feisty nuns.
As soon as we got on the highway, we came to an immediate stop. I had forgotten all about rush hour traffic living on the high seas with Theo. The west coast of Florida was not as busy as the east coast.
We moved along slowly until we got passed Fort Lauderdale and that’s when I was reminded that Sister Matilda loved speed.
“Slow down Sister,” now from Sister Hildegard, “and use the cruise control.”
“Yes, Mother Superior.” Sister Matilda said obediently. But she had never used cruise control before in her life and was unlikely to start today.
“So, what is this about your Aunt Sophia being arrested for the murder of that Russian?” Sister Hildegard asked before I had a chance to ask her.
“I was about to ask you the same question, we’ve been out at sea and out of touch with the news,” I said as I called my aunt’s home number only to get dumped into their full voicemail box again. My aunts do not text even though we had bought both of them smartphones for Christmas. They were probably still in the boxes.
Sister Hildegard and Aunt Sophia were childhood friends. The two of them along with Sister Matilda and a small group of nuns at their convent share a common psychic bond.
“Saint Anthony sometimes needs a little help finding everything he is asked to find,” Sister Hildegard once told me. “Our psychic gift helps Saint Anthony and gives him an edge over the other saints.” Theo was right about using my psychic gift since right now it looked like that was the only way I was going to get the informat
ion I needed to help my aunt, over the psychic hotline.
“What do you know about the man who was murdered?” I asked Sister Hildegard.
“He worked for Big Pete, the Russian trying to buy out Pirate’s Cove. He ran his real estate office. He became a client of your Aunt Sophia’s shortly after he came to town,” Sister Matilda said.
“Eyes on the road, Sister. Cruise control, now,” Sister Hildegard said.
“Yes, Mother Superior.”
“The news reports are saying that Aunt Sophia will not cooperate with the police and that she says it’s against the ethics of fortune tellers to divulge what was discussed during the card reading. Your Aunt Anna tells us the report is going viral on Twitface or something. The story is all over the cable networks,” Sister Hildegard said.
“Good grief,” I said knowing full well how strong my Aunt Sophia was when it came to character and beliefs.
“He was found dead in Big Pete’s real estate office in Boca Vista. Rumor is their new police chief wants to get this over by making a quick arrest. Get the spotlight away from Boca Vista. You know how those people are over there, always concerned about how they are viewed. He may have tripped up trying to arrest Sophia just because she refused to talk,” Sister Hildegard said.
“Mother of God and all the saints above,” I said making the sign of the cross with both nuns.
Sister Hildegard turned around to look at MC, “You are not bound by the same rules as your aunt.”
“But what about Aunt Anna?” I asked. “Aunt Anna has never been a stickler when it comes to the fortune teller rules. Talking too much is what always gets her in trouble with Aunt Sophia. Does she know anything?”
“Only that when Ivan Petrolia first showed up he told your Aunt Anna that he had a vision of his death,” Sister Hildegard said, which prompted the trio to again make a silent sign of the cross.