“She hasn’t done anything, Bob,” Gertrude told him.
“Really?” Bob said to his wife.
“Yes, really,” Gertrude replied.
“I’d say that bankrupting us is something.”
“That’s not her fault,” Gertrude protested.
“If you don’t mind, Gertrude, I would very much like to hear what Mr. Simmons here has to tell us. Hey,” Bob said when Sean didn’t say anything. “I asked you a question. What’s Katrina done now? She’s my daughter and I think I have the right to know.”
“Nothing, as far as I know,” Sean confessed. “That is, other than exercising poor judgment in picking out a marital partner.”
Bob’s jowls quivered. “Then why did you say what you did?”
“I was merely positing a possibility,” Sean said, taking a leaf from Bernie’s book of infuriating phrases.
“Positing a possibility? What does that mean?”
“It means he’s guessing, Bob,” Gertrude said.
Bob took a deep breath and let it out. “I know what it means, Gertrude.”
“You said you didn’t.”
Bob raised his eyes to the heavens. “God, grant me mercy.”
Gertrude’s shoulders sagged. “I was just trying to help, Bob,” she told her husband in a voice that quavered slightly.
“Well, don’t,” Bob said, turning to Sean. “So you lied?”
“Exaggerated,” Sean replie Sean rd.
“Are you here to cause trouble? To maybe stir things up?” Bob demanded of him.
Sean shook his head. “Hardly. That’s a younger man’s game. Don’t have the energy anymore,” he said regretfully.
There had been a time when he would have grabbed Bob, jacked him up against the wall, and got what he needed. But those days were long gone. And besides, Bob had been thinner then. Now it would take a forklift to accomplish that maneuver.
Bob crossed his arms over his chest. “Then why are you here? Exactly.”
As Sean looked around he noticed a stack of clothes that could only be Katrina’s in the corner. “I guess Katrina’s moved back home,” Sean said, going off on a tangent and annoying Bob even more because if there was one thing that Bob hated it was someone not answering the question he’d asked.
“So?” Bob growled. “What do you care?”
“I don’t. I just feel bad for Katrina, seeing what happened and all,” Sean told him. As he spoke it occurred to Sean that all Bob had to do to hurt him was lean on him and he was a goner.
“It’s horrible,” Gertrude said.
“Gertrude, be quiet,” her husband snapped.
“Why, Bob? What’s wrong with saying that? It is horrible.”
“I’m not feeling sorry for her,” Bob answered his wife. “What happened to us is worse. In the end the responsibility rests with her.”
“But I bet she felt bad about you taking her wedding rings,” Sean interjected.
“Bad?” Bob said. He blinked. He began to get red in the face. “Bad? Giving us those rings was the least she could do after all the money she lost us.”
“Well, it’s not as if she had a direct hand in this,” Sean said. “Or did she?”
“Of course she didn’t,” Gertrude told Sean. “What an absurd thing to say. I told you, it was Mike Sweeney and his crew who were responsible for the mess we’re in.”
Bob punched his right hand into his left. “Yeah, Gertrude, but your daughter was the one who married Liam. Your daughter was the one who convinced us to invest with Sweeney and his crew.” Bob mimicked his daughter’s voice. “Such a good opportunity, Dad. You can’t pass it up, Dad. Liam’s friend is brilliant.’” Bob drew out the word brilliant. “Absolutely brilliant. Which is more than I can say for her.”
“You’re always blaming Katrina,” Gertrude told her husband. “Either blaming her or ignoring her. That’s the reason she is the way she is.”
Bob rolled his eyes. “Spare me your psychobabble,” he said to Gertrude. “If we had reined her in when she was younger we wouldn’t be in this position now,” Bob countered.
“Your idea of reining in involved your belt,” Gertrude retorted.
“And yours involved turning a blind eye to everything,” Bob told Gertrude before turning toward Sean. “Katrina’s never listened to anyone,” he explained to Sean. “She always did exactly what she wanted to do because she knew her mommy would protect her when she did anything stupid.”
“That’s not true,” Gertrude cried.
Bob ignored her and continued talking to Sean. “I told Katrina that Liam was no good. I told her from the minute she brought him home. I told her Liam ran around with a bunch of scum buckets. But that just made her like him more.”
“You’re wrong, Bob,” Gertrude said, interrupting.
Bob glared at her. “I most certainly am not. Your daughter always thought she knew everything. And now look what’s happened. We’ve lost every cent we ever had thanks to Mike Sweeney and his crew.”
“From what I’ve been told, so has Liam and all the remaining members of that group,” Sean pointed out. “Everyone took a hit.”
“So?” Bob flushed with indignation. “Am I supposed to be crying about that?” he demanded. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Liam is young. Liam can make it back. We can’t. Meanwhile I have another mouth to support on top of everything else. I’d like to wring Mike Sweeney’s neck.”
“Did you?” Sean asked, the thought having already occurred to him when Bob’s name came up. He’d just been waiting for the opportunity to broach the subject to see Bob’s reaction.
“Do I look like I can go up against someone like Sweeney?” Bob demanded.
“No,” Sean replied. “You don’t. But maybe you know some people who could.”
“And what would I pay them with?” Bob sneered. “Chocolate-chip cookies and pasta sauce? People don’t do that kind of work for nothing. Or have you forgotten?”
Sean shrugged. “No. I haven’t forgotten. But some people will do it as a favor. Maybe someone owes you one from the old days. Maybe you have money stashed away someplace. There are all sorts of possibilities.”
Bob shook his head in disgust. “That crap again.”
“Are you telling me it isn’t true?” Sean asked.
“I already have.”
“I know you did. And I believed you then, but when I think back I wonder if you were snookering me.”
Bob gestured toward the interior of his house. “Look at this place. Does it look like I’m livin’ large to you?” he demanded.
“No. But that doesn’t mean anything. Not everyone has a mansion in Staten Island.” Sean remembered one mobster he knew who’d lived in a small ranch off Euclid and had had a cool couple of mil stashed away in the crawl space under the house.
Bob took a step closer to Sean and wagged his finger in front of his nose. “Don’t you be saying that stuff again.”
“And don’t you be wagging your finger under my nose like that,” Sean told him. “Otherwise I might have to break it off. ”
Gertrude put her hands on her hips and looked from one man to another. “How old are you two anyway?” she demanded of Sean and her husband. “I’ll tell you. Old enough not to do this. That’s how old.”
Both men looked sheepish.
“Your wife’s right,” Sean said to Bob.
Bob let out a sound of disgust while he dropped his hand to his side and took a step back. “I don’t need this,” he told Sean. “I have enough to worry about at the moment. You want to talk to someone about Sweeney, don’t talk to me, talk to your daughter’s friend.”
“Which daughter?” Sean asked him.
“The dark-haired one,” Bob replied.
“They both have dark hair. Do you mean Bernie?” Sean suggested because Bernie was more likely to be out and about.
“I guess,” Bob said. He’d never been good with names and faces and had never been able to keep the girls straight, even though n
either ofgh neith them looked remotely alike. Not that he would admit this to anyone, especially not their father.
“Are you talking about Brandon?” Sean asked. “He’s the redheaded guy who bartends at RJ’s.”
“No. The other one.”
Sean wrinkled his nose. “You mean Marvin?” he asked. Now there was a ridiculous thought if there ever was one. The only things that Marvin was involved with were the funeral home and Libby.
Bob shook his head impatiently. “No. No. Not Marvin. This guy’s name begins with a P. Or is it an S? Let me think.” A moment later Bob snapped his fingers. “I got it. His name begins with a C.”
“C?” Sean said. “Could you be more specific?”
“Casey.”
“Casey Murphy?” As far as Sean knew, Libby never had anything to do with him. Ever.
“Yeah. That’s it.”
“Are you sure?”
Bob drew himself up. “Of course I’m sure,” he said in an offended tone of voice. “I just said it, didn’t I?”
“I’m just asking,” Sean said.
“And I’m just saying,” Bob snapped.
“Bob,” Gertrude chided her husband. “You’re behaving very rudely.”
Bob glared at his wife. “Like you’re one to talk.”
“What do you mean?” Gertrude demanded.
“I’m referring to the way you were talking to Sean earlier.”
“I was not impolite. Maybe I was a little forceful with Sean, but given the circumstances, I don’t think I was out of line.”
“Yeah, Gertrude. When you do something, it’s fine. When I do it, it isn’t. This is exactly what she was like with our daughter,” Bob told Sean. “Whatever I said was one hundred percent wrong.”
“That is not true,” Gertrude told him.
“Isn’t it?” Bob said. “What about that thing with Liza?”
“Liza Sepranto?” Sean asked, coming to attention. “She and your daughter were friends?”
“Yeah, they were,” Bob said. “Despite my objections. When you see a car about to slide down a steep hill you try and stop it, right? You don’t sit there and let it happen if you can help it.”
“I tried,” Gertrude retorted.
“Not hard enough,” Bob countered.
Gertrude began tapping her right foot on the wood floor. “And what did you want me to do, Bob?” Gertrude demanded. “Liza’s mother is my best friend.”
“I don’t care if she was your sister, Gertrude. Her daughter got Katrina arrested for shoplifting. They shouldn’t have been allowed to see one another.”
Gertrude turned to Sean. “He’s exaggerating. There was just this misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding my ass,” Bob said. “Both of them ripped off a thousand dollars worth of merchandise each at Bloomingdale’s,” he said to Sean. “If I hadn’t got someone over there and made nice and paid everything off, they would have gone to jail.”
“You always make such a big deal out of everything,” Gertrude told him.
“And you look the other way,” Bob said.
“Maybe because I’ve had to,” Gertrude replied. “Maybe instead of yelling at me all the time all the you should think of the example you set for your daughter.”
“My example is fine, thank you very much,” Bob snapped back.
“Is it?” Gertrude said.
Bob blinked. He opened his mouth to say something else and shut it, at which point Gertrude turned to Sean.
“You’ll have to forgive my husband,” she said. “He’s having a slight tummy upset.” And Gertrude patted her stomach. “I told him he shouldn’t be eating all those hot peppers, but he doesn’t want to admit he can’t do it anymore. Actually, he doesn’t want to admit he can’t do lots of things anymore, isn’t that true, snookums?” And she puckered her lips and gave him a mock kiss.
Bob probably would have preferred a punch in the jaw, Sean reflected as he watched Bob flinch. In truth, there was nothing like a wife to know where to stick it to you. Bob looks like a balloon with the air let out of him, Sean thought as he watched Bob raise his hands in a gesture of disgust. Well, one thing was true. Gertrude and Bob were definitely a matched pair.
“That’s it,” Bob said to Gertrude. “Deal with this yourself. I’ve had enough.” And he stalked back to where he’d come from, leaving Sean and Gertrude standing in the vestibule.
Sean sighed. The reason that Katrina behaved the way she did was fairly obvious. It was called playing one parent against the other and getting away with it. Thank heavens he and Rose hadn’t done that. It’s true they used to fight, they used to fight a lot, but when it came to the core stuff like the girls’ friends, they’d always been in agreement, and even if they hadn’t been, they’d backed each other up.
He and Rose had been a good team. God, he missed her. He banished the thought and concentrated on what he’d just learned. When he thought about it, it really didn’t surprise him that Liza and Katrina were friends and that their mothers were too. After all, when you got down to it, Longely was a small town and the people who lived here had long memories.
And speaking of memories, Sean wondered if maybe Bob had meant Orion instead of Casey. That at least made a little more sense. Because Bob had never been good with names. And both Casey and Orion looked alike in a general kind of way. Or they used to. Before Orion had gotten downright skinny.
For a moment, Sean debated going after Bob and trying to get a little more information out of him, but then he decided it would be a waste of time. Bob was probably knee deep in gin by now, pondering his humiliation at his wife’s h
ands. It was definitely time to move on. He said good-bye to Gertrude and left.
On the way to Marvin’s vehicle he took out his cell and tried to call Casey, but his call went straight to voice mail. The same was true of Orion. Okay. That left Liza’s mom to talk to. He’d put off doing that for longer than he should have. He thought about having to convince Marvin to drive him. And then he thought about how much simpler it would be if he could go there by himself. If Marvin didn’t have to drive him. If no one had to drive him.
After all, he had gotten better. A lot better. His hands didn’t shake anymore. He could walk okay. Well, almost okay. He wasn’t slurring any words. His judgment was as good as it had always been. No. Despite what Bernie and Libby would say, he was ready to drive. And Marvin’s father’s car was the perfect vehicle for his first time out. After all, he’d driven one like it before. The trick was going to be persuading Marvin to see it that way.
Sean smiled. He’d always loved a challenge.
Chapter 29
Libby was taking a rare but well-earned nap when Orion walked into the Simmonses’ flat and woke her up. She had been dreaming of a loaf of cinnamon-raisin bread with a diamond ring baked inside it. Somehow the ring had belonged to one of their customers and Libby wasn’t sure how it had ended up in the batter, but there it was winking away.
Libby was in the middle of hearing why that was important from a voice coming out of the oven—it had something to do with being able to forecast the advent of the hurricane season and how bad global warming was going to be—when another customer came into the shop and slammed the door behind her. She thought the sound was in her dream, but then she realized it was real. She opened her eyes. A moment later she screamed. A man was standing by the door. It took her thirty seconds to realize it was Orion. She bolted up, instinctively smoothing down her sweatshirt as she did.
“Sorry if I scared you,” Orion said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to.”
“What are you doing here?” Libby demanded, now wide awake.
As she looked at Orion it suddenly occurred to her that a miracle had happened. All the anger she felt toward him had slipped away. She didn’t feel sad that she wasn’t with him anymore. She didn’t feel hurt thinking about all the lies he’d told her. She wasn’t wondering whom he was going out with.
In fact, she didn’t feel attract
ed to him at all. Her heart wasn’t beating faster. She wasn’t blushing. He was just a guy. A skinny guy with a bad haircut, a big nose, and ears that stood out from his head. She remembered she used to find those ears cute—she’d liked to tug on them gently—but not anymore. Now they just looked goofy.
Orion looked at the floor, then back at Libby. Clearly, she thought, he’s uncomfortable. And that also made her feel even happier because she was usually the one feeling that way. Or maybe he’d always felt that way and she’d been so consumed with her own feelings that she hadn’t noticed. Bernie was always telling her to get over herself. Maybe she was right, Libby thought.
“The door was opened and I just walked up,” Orion stammered as Libby continued to study him. “I was looking for your father.”
Libby gave her sweatshirt a final tug. Even though she was over Orion she was still glad she’d washed her hair last night.
“He’s not here,” she told him. “He’s with Marvin.”
“I guess I should have called,” Orion said, turning to go. “I would have but my phone is on the fritz. I’ll come back later.”
“I guess you should have called first,” Libby agreed. “What do you want with him anyway?”
“Nothing, really,” Orion said. “Your dad asked me to get him some information.”
Libby cocked her head and looked at him. “Information?”
“Yeah. About Sweeney and those guys.”
“Oh, yes.” Libby remembered that her Dad had said he was going to talk to Orion, but then he hadn’t mentioned anything about it and it had slipped her mind.
Orion ran his fingers through his hair, and Libby noticed with a certain amount of pleasure that it was thinning on top.
“I’ve got the financial stuff he asked me about,” he said. He corrected himself. “Well, some of it. I managed to get him a co get himuple of lists. There’s a lot more out there but this is all I could lay my hands on.”
A Catered St. Patrick's Day Page 23