Franki Amato Mysteries Box Set

by Traci Andrighetti

  I was seriously considering bum-rushing her for that first comment, but the horrible death one took the wind out of my sails.

  "Hurry, Delta," Officer Quincy said. "If they're not dead before the police get here, we'll have a hard time proving Troy acted alone."

  "Give me a minute," she snapped, reaching into her Louis Vuitton. She pulled out a small bottle and unscrewed the cap. As she leaned in toward me with the poison, I squeezed my eyes shut and started thrashing.

  "Hold her still, John!" Delta yelled.

  "I'm trying," he rasped, his voice tense from the struggle. "But she's as strong as a horse."

  "The size of one too," she observed.

  After hearing their horse comments, I started bucking like a bronco.

  "It's no use," he ground out. "I've gotta knock her out."

  I kept my eyes closed, waiting for the blow. I heard a thwack, a dull thud, and another thwack. But I felt no pain. In fact, the only thing I felt was Officer Quincy's weight sliding off my body. Then I heard another dull thud.

  I opened one eye and saw Chandra high-fiving a balding, beer-bellied man in an island shirt.

  "Boston strong!" she cried as they each raised a copper pipe in triumph.

  I shot up from the bed and saw Delta and Officer Quincy unconscious on the floor. Woozy from shock, I asked, "What are you doing here, Chandra? I told you not to come!"

  "I said I'd trust you, but I didn't say I'd listen to you," she explained as she pulled down her zodiac-themed miniskirt.

  I glanced at Troy standing motionless in the corner. "I'm glad you didn't."

  "By the way," Chandra began, "this is my husband, Luigi Toccato."

  "Call me 'Lou,'" he said, giving my hand—actually, my entire arm—a hearty shake.

  "So nice to meet you," I breathed. "You two saved our lives. But how did you do it?"

  "Ah, we drove out in my plumber's van," Lou said, kicking Delta's gun out of her reach with his toe shoes. "Then Chandra got one of her visions. She said you were in danger, so we grabbed a couple of pipes from my supplies and came in around back."

  I stared at Chandra in awe, remembering how scared she was the last time she came to the plantation. "How did you get up the courage to do this?"

  She gazed at her husband. "When Lou's by my side, I can do anything."

  "Aw, you," he said, turning as red as a tomato. He leaned over and gave her a smooch.

  "Besides," she added, her tone now as hard as the pipe in her hand, "I'm afraid of ghosts, not bitches."

  Police sirens screamed up the drive.

  Chandra took that as her cue to slip her and Lou's pipes into her super Chanel bag. "Now if you three will excuse me," she began, fluffing her big bouffant bob, "I have a psychic matter to attend to."

  Lou and I watched from the back porch as the police led Delta and Officer Quincy in handcuffs to the parking lot.

  "Take your hands off me, you ingrate!" Delta shouted at the twenty-something male officer trying to help her into the back of the squad car. "I'm the widow of the late Chief of Police, Jackson Dupré."

  "We know who you are, ma'am," the officer replied in a tired voice.

  "Then you will treat me with respect, or you'll answer to my attorney," she snarled. "Do you understand me?"

  Lou yawned and scratched his belly. "Why doesn't he just shove her into the car already?"

  "My thoughts exactly," I replied.

  The back door opened and Chandra stepped onto the porch. "Where's Troy?"

  "They took him to the station," I replied. "He'll undergo a psychiatric evaluation and get the treatment he needs."

  Chandra frowned at the sight of Delta and crossed her arms.

  "What's the matter?" I asked. "Aren't you happy to see the diabolical one get her due?"

  "It's not that." She sighed. "That spirit's turning the doorknob again."

  "Maybe she wants to come outside to see Delta being taken to jail," I joked. "You know having her around the plantation had to be a living hell for those ghosts."

  "That's the problem," Chandra said. "The spirit's standing in front of French doors, but she's not in the house."

  My smile faded. "How do you know?"

  "Because there's a vase on the floor to the left of her. But when I stood in the corner between the French doors and the pink room a few minutes ago, I realized that there was no vase there."

  I rubbed the back of my neck. "I don't think I've ever seen a vase by the French doors. But maybe one used to be there."

  Chandra shook her head, jingling her jewelry. "This isn't a vision from the past. The spirit's turning the handle in the present."

  "Then maybe she's not at Oleander Place," I suggested.

  "Or, maybe she is," Chandra countered, "but she's turning the handle of a different French door."

  As soon as she'd spoken the words, I knew where that door was. "The little mill!" I exclaimed. "Miles told me that the windows and French doors were replaced, and the originals are stored there."

  "What are we waiting for?" Chandra yelled.

  The three of us ran across the grounds. I arrived at the mill first, for obvious reasons.

  It didn't take long to find the French doors. They were propped up against a wall in the back corner—beside a large blue vase.

  I grasped the knob of the door on the right. It was exactly like the one I'd repaired the day Chandra and I got trapped inside the parlor. "We need to remove the handle."

  "I (huff) got (puff) this," Lou said, pulling a pipe wrench from the pocket of his cargo shorts. He bent down in front of the handle.

  I fixed my gaze on the back of his head to avoid seeing his… Well, he's a plumber.

  Lou stuck out his tongue, gave a couple of tugs with the wrench, and the handle fell into his hand. Battling his belly, he rose to his feet. "Here (huff) you (puff) go."

  Like Lou, I was breathless—but with excitement. I shook the base of the handle over my palm, and out tumbled the Lacour diamond.

  Chandra gasped and clasped her face. "All this time the spirit was trying to show us where the diamond was!"

  "Exactly." I stared with wonder at the coral-pink gem.

  She put a hand on my arm. "That means the spirit was probably Evangeline, not Ivanna."

  I bit my lip. "I have a feeling it was both of them."

  "Well, it sure is a beaut," Lou said, pulling up his sagging shorts. "What're you gonna do with it?"

  "Oh, I can't keep it," I said. "It belongs to the plantation."

  Chandra's lips formed a tiny pout. "But Delta's going to prison. Surely you don't plan to give it to her?"

  "I'm giving it to the police," I announced in a steadfast tone. Although, let's be honest, I really wanted to keep it for myself. "We'd better head out."

  When we arrived at the parking lot, I approached the policeman who'd loaded Delta into the back of his patrol car. "Officer, we found something in the little mill that's pertinent to the case. It's the legendary Lacour diamond."

  Delta's head turned so sharply I thought it was going to spin all the way around like Linda Blair's in The Exorcist. "That diamond is mine!" she shouted at the closed window. "Do you hear me, Franki Amato? Mine!"

  The officer shined his flashlight on the stone. "That's some diamond."

  "And it's my property!" she yelled. "Give it to me this instant!"

  "I can't do that, ma'am," he said, turning to the window. "This diamond is evidence."

  Seeing Delta's reaction, a thought occurred to me. "Officer, do you mind if we take a few pictures with the diamond, since we found it, and all?"

  "Make it quick," he replied, depositing the gem into my palm.

  Delta shot daggers at me with her eyes. "Get your filthy hands off my heirloom!"

  Chandra and I snapped several selfies with the diamond as Delta raged.

  That'll teach her for making cracks about my size, I thought as I returned the diamond to the officer with a huge grin on my face.

  By the time he drove
away, Delta's fury had given way to tears, and she was wailing and blubbering about her "precious pink baby."

  "What a wuss," Chandra said.

  "Yeah," Lou agreed. "Southern steel, my culo."

  I smiled at his use of the uncouth Italian term for derriere. "Once again, Lou, you took the words right out of my mouth."

  When I entered my office the next morning, there were beignets and a soy latte on my desk. I turned to find Veronica in the doorway. "What's this?"

  "A small thank you for your amazing work on the case."

  "Are you sure you're not mad that I continued working the investigation?"

  "I can't tell you what to do with your day off, but I am upset that you put yourself in danger." She crossed her arms. "Promise me that you'll give me a heads-up the next time you plan to confront a ruthless killer."

  "I promise," I said, taking a seat behind my desk. "But honestly, I thought I was covered after calling the police. And besides, you've been so busy lately that I thought you wanted me to handle the case on my own."

  "I have been busy," she said as she eased into the armchair. "And the truth is that after I helped you get the investigation underway, I did take a step back."

  "I noticed," I said, reaching for a beignet. "I just don't understand why."

  She sighed. "Because PIs don't work with partners like the police do. And even though I'd love for us to collaborate on cases, the budget doesn't allow for that yet. So, I needed for you to gain confidence in your ability to work a case on your own." She smiled. "And after bringing down Delta Dupré, you should be able to handle anyone."

  I swallowed a big bite of beignet. "I see what you're saying," I began, dusting powdered sugar from my hands, "and I have to admit that in some ways it was pretty great to call the shots. But you're overlooking the fact that I did have a partner on this case."

  "Who? David?"

  I took a sip of latte. "Chandra."

  Veronica rolled her eyes. "Now, I'll admit that she and her husband saved your life, and for that I'll be forever grateful, but—"

  "No buts about it," I interrupted. "Like you, I have my doubts about her psychic abilities, but no one can deny that her vision of the spirit and the doorknob led to the discovery of the Lacour diamond. And while we're on the subject, I have some sparkly selfies to show you."

  Veronica clapped her hands as I handed her my phone. She was swiping through the photos when my Sir Mix-a-Lot ringtone sounded. She looked up. "It's Ivanna's father."

  I grabbed the phone and pressed answer. "Hi, Liam."

  "I'm calling to congratulate you on your stupendous work on the case," he said. "You should be proud to know that it's a lead story in the Italian news."

  "You're in Italy?"

  Veronica looked as surprised as I was.

  "I had Ivanna buried beside her mother," he said, the pain evident in his tone.

  "I'm glad." I wanted to ask him about the belladonna, but I didn't feel right about doing it after he'd mentioned the burial.

  "I also wanted you to know that the police called me this morning." He paused. "They've released Adam."

  Liam had just presented me with the opening I needed. "Did they ask if you'd planted the belladonna in his lab?"

  There was silence on the line. "As far as they're concerned, the case is closed," he said in a cautious tone. "And as for Adam, the arrest gave him the opportunity to sober up and think about his actions, past and future. So, all things considered, there was no harm done."

  I was silent as I wrestled with my conscience. Liam had committed a crime, but what good would it do to turn him in? Adam was already free, but Liam might go to jail—that is, if he came back to the United States. And if he was imprisoned, he could never work for Doctors Without Borders again.

  There was a muffled voice over a loudspeaker.

  Liam cleared his throat. "That's my boarding call."

  I wasn't surprised he was at the airport. "Are you going back to Syria?"

  "Afghanistan."

  The call came over the loudspeaker again.

  This was it—my last chance to insist that he turn himself in. "Liam…"

  "Yes?"

  But then I thought of all the lives he would save. "Have a safe flight."

  "Thank you, Franki," he said softly. "So very much."

  I tossed my phone on the desk and looked into Veronica's eyes. We both knew there was nothing to say.

  The main door slammed.

  "David's here," we said in unison—happy for the distraction.

  "Franki!" he yelled, entering the room like a tornado. "You're a hero!"

  I grinned. "Chandra and Lou are heroes too."

  He curled his upper lip. "They didn't look like it on the news."

  "Why not?" Veronica asked. "What do heroes look like?"

  "I dunno, but not like cosmic plumbers."

  I burst out laughing, imagining them decked out in moons, stars, and plumbing supplies. "I'm sure they looked better than Glenda did when she was on TV after our last murder investigation."

  David turned pink and said nothing.

  "So, how are you going to celebrate your success?" Veronica asked.

  "Work, I guess," I replied.

  "No, ma'am," she said, wagging her index finger at me. "You're taking the day off."

  "Dude!" David exclaimed. "The Jazz and Heritage Festival starts today. You should totally go."

  "I don't want to go to a concert alone," I said. Then I saw Veronica's brows lower with concern, so I added, "I think I'll spend the day with my man."

  Her brows shot up. "Bradley?"

  I stiffened, and then shook my head. "Napoleon."

  I pulled into my Uptown neighborhood, wishing I could avoid the cemetery. The realization that I had no one to celebrate with except for my dog had really gotten me down. The last thing I needed right now was a bunch of graves reminding me that I was going to die alone too.

  It didn't help that Veronica had mentioned Bradley. I knew I shouldn't miss him, but I did. I even found myself wondering whether Chandra had been right about Pauline not being the third person in my relationship. Because there was one other candidate I could think of—my nonna. She was nothing if not a third wheel. And not your ordinary car wheel, either.

  I was trying to figure out what the biggest wheel in the world was when my phone rang. I looked at the display before responding, "Bonjour, Corinne."

  "Have you seen ze news?" she whisper-shouted.

  Oh no, I thought. What have Chandra and Lou done now? I envisioned Chandra going into one of her vibrating spirit trances while Lou performed some sort of plumbing demonstration. "About my case, right?"

  "Oui!" she whisper-exclaimed. "Ze FBI took her away in ze handcuffs."

  "Ze FBI?" I echoed. I'd suspected Chandra of faking a vision or two, but I had no idea the feds were involved.

  Oui, ze FBI," she repeated. "And Bradley helped!"

  When she said his name, I finally understood. And I had to pull over to recover from the shock. "Bradley was working with the FBI?"

  "He was undercover! He prove zat Pauline embezzle from ze bank and ze children," Corinne gushed. "Now I must go before my manager see me. A bientôt!"

  I hung up my phone and hung my head. Bradley had said that things weren't what they seemed, and I'd laughed. Even worse, he'd asked me to trust him, and I hadn't. I doubted that he would ever forgive me.

  The final scene from Gone with the Wind popped into my head. Scarlett was crying on the staircase after Rhett had walked out on her for the last time. Then she looked off into the distance and vowed to get him back because, after all, tomorrow was another day.

  "Southern belle bimbo," I said as I shifted the car back into gear and headed for home.

  A few minutes later, I pulled in front of my house and slammed on the brakes.

  Bradley was in the driveway in a sleek Armani suit and dark sunglasses. He looked like a male model—with a bouquet of yellow roses in his hand.

&n
bsp; Because I had my convertible top down, I almost leapt over the side of my car to get to him. But I decided that the occasion called for a more ladylike route, i.e., the door.

  He took off his sunglasses, and our eyes locked as I walked up the driveway.

  "Franki, I—"

  "Sh." I put my finger on his lips. "I already know."

  Then I replaced my finger with my mouth.

  When we came up for air, I narrowed my eyes and said, "But I do have one question."

  He ran a hand through his hair. "What is it?"

  "How in the hell did you end up working with the FBI?"

  He grimaced. "Well, the investigation is still pending so I can't go into details. But what I can say is that I contacted the FBI after a major donor to the 'Shoot for the Moon' fundraiser called about a tax receipt for his donation, and I couldn't find any record of it."

  "That's terrible." I looked down. I felt really bad for Bradley, and I was still so angry at Pauline for trying to take advantage of him.

  “Hey,” Bradley said as he gently lifted my chin with his finger and looked into my eyes. With his free hand he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. "This is for you."

  Thinking it was a letter or card, I shivered when I realized that it was an airline itinerary for two from New Orleans to… "Houston?"

  He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I got a really, uh, interesting and persuasive call from Father Roman and Carmela about making things right with your mamma."

  I put my finger back on his lips. "And you still came here today?"

  He took my hand in his and kissed my palm. "Actually, I thought it was charming."

  I blinked. Poor man, how could he know? The reality of Nonna was just too unreal for anyone to fathom. He would have to learn for himself. Until then, I thought it best to change the subject. I snuggled up to him and asked, "Do you have to go back to work?"

  He sighed. "For a few hours. The bank merger was due to go through this week, but now that Pauline is in the news, I have to do damage control."

  I rested my forehead on his. "I'm so sorry."

  "I'm not," he breathed and then kissed my eyelids. "Not now that I have you back."

  I felt my body go limp and was grateful his strong arms were around me.