by Libby Klein
“Ciao, Poppy. I came to relieve you. You can go home now and work for your pensione. I am here to take Gia from you.”
CHAPTER 13
The other day I’d seen Alex suggest to a heavyset woman buying a lemon tart for breakfast that she start Weight Watchers to keep track of her calories, so I doubted we were having a translation issue. “Shouldn’t you be home waiting for Henry to get out of preschool? You have a lot of lost time to make up for. It’s a nice day, why don’t you take him to the zoo?”
Alex dropped the lipsticks on the counter and left the booth. “There will be plenty of time for that. I need to work on my husband too. He seems a bit distracted. I just bought the cutest little nightie. I can’t wait for him to see it.”
Maybe Italians don’t have a word for “subtlety.” “Well, the Beauty Expo closes in five days. He’ll be back at La Dolce Vita before you know it.”
Alex drooped her face into a pout. “That may be too late. He’s different than I remember. He used to work all night and hang out at the sports bar until morning. Now he goes home early and he’s not hungover. I think you’ve been a good influence on him.”
I swallowed hard. “I think he goes home because he cares about Henry. Gia has dinner with him just about every night.” How do I get away from her? I looked around to find an escape route back to La Dolce Vita.
Alex reached behind my head to feel a scarf on display in an eco-friendly booth supporting women in Africa. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I’ve heard him call you Bella. That means ‘beautiful’ in Italian.”
“I know what it means.”
“You may be beautiful to him, but I’m his wife. Don’t you think you should cut your ties with Giampaolo to give us a chance?”
I was looking frantically for an exit. Alex had me trapped between Earth Mother Textiles and Facials by Peach. I spotted Shayla Rose by the main entrance in a heated discussion with Convention security. “I think you and Gia need to work out your own issues and quit using me as an excuse. I’m sorry, I see someone I need to talk to; I have to go.”
I ducked through a display of woven handbags and took off down the aisle. I made eye contact with Shayla and she smiled in return. I was a few feet away from her when I was cut off by a perky blonde in a green apron shoving a tray of homemade protein bars in my face.
“Care to sample some Paleo Diva snacks? The best Paleo in Cape May County. Oh, it’s you, Poppy. Come to check out the competition?”
I was stunned, so it took me a minute to register that I was staring into the face of the devil. “Gigi. You’re the Paleo Diva?”
Gigi made a brilliantly smug smile. “No. We are.”
I followed her gaze to Tim, glowering at me from the green-and-brown booth. I could feel his hatred from ten feet away and my hands started to shake.
“Tim told me what happened. I refuse to say, ‘I told you so,’ but I always knew it was just a matter of time before you stabbed him in the back. You were never right for him. Now he is sooo much better off.”
I glanced back at Tim. He was talking to a customer and smiling like he wasn’t affected at all by seeing me. I tried to keep my voice from shaking but failed miserably. “Whose idea was the Paleo Diva booth?”
Gigi handed a free sample out and turned her face up. “Hmm. I don’t remember. I think we came up with the idea together, when we were waking up. Isn’t that funny how two people have the same ideas when they’re in love? Oh, sorry. I guess you don’t know.”
Tim was on his way over and I felt like I might throw up. I wasn’t even hearing Gigi anymore. She was just white noise.
Tim put his hand on Gigi’s back. “Babe, take the high road. She’s not our enemy. Let her get back to her boyfriend.”
She. Tim wouldn’t even look at me. My eyes were welling up, and I did all I could to hold back the tears, but I knew I had to get out of there.
My rescue came in the form of Shayla Rose, who grabbed my arm. “Girl, I’ve been waiting for you. Come on. Let’s go get those smoothies.”
Gigi had one final arrow. She called after me, “Hey-ee, be on the lookout for the health department. I overheard that someone called them in to inspect the inferior food booths.”
Shayla led my evacuation from humiliation, talking like we were best buddies. We wove around the brow shaping and past the bee pollen honey, and I could see La Dolce Vita just ahead. “So, what was that all about? Is that your ex?”
“How could you tell?”
“He had a vibe. Like he wants to punish you, but still look like a good guy.”
“He is a good guy. He’s just not the right guy. But the blonde came from the Underworld; don’t be fooled. I think she turns into a bat when the sun goes down.”
Shayla laughed, and we slowed to a meander. “Yeah. It’s so hard to meet someone without them bringing a shedload of drama along. I had an amazing date last night with a man I met on Tinder. We like the same food—Indian; the same movies—chick flicks; the same music—Adele. We both want to travel the world and adopt Pomsky puppies—not at the same time. It turns out we both live in the same neighborhood and go to the same gym, but we’ve never met. Can you believe that? We’ve met for coffee a couple of times, but last night he drove up from Raleigh just to take me to a romantic restaurant in Stone Harbor. He was perfect.”
“Be careful when they’re perfect. Those are the ones who have hidden flaws that come out as soon as it’s too late for your heart to turn back.”
“Exactly! And this guy was too perfect. He had intelligent eyes behind these sexy glasses that made him look like Hugh Jackman. And he was interested in biochemistry and not intimidated at all by what I do for a living. But all I could think about was when the other shoe would drop, you know?”
“I do.” Alex was standing outside the La Dolce Vita booth, pouting. There’s my other shoe, and it’s wearing a tight skirt.
“And I asked myself, why am I so jaded that when I finally find the perfect man, all I can think about is, what’s he hiding?”
“I don’t think you’re jaded. I think you’re careful. If you give your heart away too early and he turns out to, say, still be married or something, you can’t just turn off how you feel. Now you’re stuck being miserable waiting for a divorce that may never happen and feeling like a lowlife for wanting it to.”
Shayla went blank for a beat then recognition dawned. “Oh nooo. Sexy Coffee Guy really is married?”
I nodded. We were back at my booth and Gia made a face that begged me not to leave him alone with Alex. I got back there and handed Shayla a cookie. “Thanks for the rescue.”
“Anytime. We girls gotta stick together.” She raised a fist.
“Oh, by the way, I saw you yelling at Convention security. Is everything okay?”
Shayla leaned in close, and I could smell her rose perfume. “No. But there’s nothing I can do about it now. If I have to kill someone, you’ll give me an alibi, won’t you?” She dropped her chin and raised her eyebrows, then she busted out laughing in that maniacal way again. “Oh, Poppy, you’re too much.” She gave Gia the finger as she passed us to get to her booth.
He saw it but had no idea what it was about. He was busy pulling shots for the two ladies in line.
I wanted to hug him so badly. I was one stab of jealousy away from running home and going back to bed.
Alex launched into a speech as soon as I hit the pastry case to refill it. “Poppy, please tell Gia that you don’t mind if I take over for you. I told him it was your idea that he and I work the Expo together so we could reconnect.”
I choked on a bite of keto cookie and crumbs flew out of my mouth. I wasn’t getting in their way, but I sure didn’t want to tuck them into bed either. Then Henry’s little face and giant eyes appeared in my mind. I turned to Gia to make a case for him to try with Alex and the black look on his face shut me down. I kept my silence, but I let my eyes rove around the other booths. I was trapped on every side by drama and spite. �
�I need a minute.”
I exited the building to stand on the back deck overlooking the ocean. The sound of the waves silenced the noise in my head until I was at peace again. No matter what happened with anyone inside Convention Hall, I had a good life with Aunt Ginny. And a naughty Figaro, who was home waiting for snuggles. That was enough, wasn’t it?
After a few minutes coffee appeared in my hands, and Gia put his arm around my shoulders. “I sent Alex off to help Momma. If you want to go home, I understand.”
“I just needed a break.”
Gia took my hand. “I wish we could run away somewhere—away from all of this. Just you, me, and Henry.”
“Even if we did, Alex would be in our lives. She’ll always be his mother.”
“Maybe so, but you will eventually see the real Alex behind the act, and you won’t be threatened anymore.”
We stood out there for a couple more minutes, soaking up the sun, then I asked, “Did you close the booth?”
“No. Someone is filling in until we get back. I am not expecting it to go well.”
I turned and looked through the window at the tiny, little, rose-gold redhead in the pink-velour loungewear brandishing a Paleo snickerdoodle like a saber. “We gotta go now.”
Aunt Ginny was behind the bar snapping at a couple of teenagers. “You can buy cookies and drink water because I can’t reach the controls on the espresso machine. That’s it! Like it or lump it!”
I took the cookie from her hand. “Thank you, Aunt Ginny, I’ll take it from here.” I loaded her up with a few cookies and sent her to go pick out a salt scrub.
For the rest of the afternoon Gia and I worked side by side in relative quiet, hearing snippets of gossip.
All the talk around our booth was about how much better Paleo Diva’s items were than ours. A balding man with a swayback and a paunch that made him look six months pregnant ambled over. He was wearing ladies’ jeans and had them pulled up and belted over his belly. He looked around my pastry case and sniffed. “You know, the Paleo Diva has free samples.”
“I’ve seen that.”
“His stuff’s a lot better’n yours.”
“Oh really? Which ones?”
The man shrugged. “All of ’em.”
“Wow. Even better than my maple bacon chocolate chip cookies?”
The man blinked and licked his lips. “Ayep.”
“I’ll have to give them a try. Thanks for letting me know.”
He looked reluctantly at the cookie in my hand, then turned away. “Ayep.”
Gia and I shook our heads.
About ten minutes later Maternity Jordache was in front of my pastry case again. “That wadn’t worth it. Gimme a maple bacon cookie.”
I took the cookie out of the case with a pastry sheet and swapped it for his money. He shoved it in his mouth, and his eyes rolled back in his head. “Yeah. That’s the stuff.”
We’d completely sold out of everything about thirty minutes before the closing bell rang. We packed up the important things, like the iPad and the cashbox. Gia was making a list of things he’d have to bring tomorrow, like a couple cases of milk and a new vanilla syrup.
“Do you think our stuff will be safe? Security didn’t exactly rise to the occasion last night.”
Gia looked at the security guard drinking a Big Gulp while getting briefed by Eloise. “I’m bringing in my own security for tonight.” We passed the green-and-brown canopy. It had been shut down early, and a closed sign was on the table. “Who is this Paleo Diva man?”
“It’s Tim. He’s here with his new girlfriend.”
Gia came to a full stop. “He was here?”
“They both were. He’s with Gigi now.”
He led me outside Convention Hall, where the air was cooler, and pulled me into his arms. “I’m sorry. No one who loves deeply moves on quickly. Tim is a fool. I would be old and gray before I got over you.”
Slow tears dripped from my eyes all the way home. Why is it when the pain doesn’t get you, the kindness does?
Gia walked me to the front door to make sure I got in safely. He cast a wary look at Rabbitzilla, who was sprightly again, then ran his hand through the straight lock of my hair that had rejected its curl before lunch. No words passed between us, but our eyes filled in the blanks.
I checked the mail and the front desk. Joanne had left me a note that we needed more butter and cheese. Then, someone pinned up a receipt for butter and cheese, so I guess that crisis was averted. Figaro joined me as I went through email. He paraded back and forth in front of the monitor, and I had to work around him to confirm availability for several future guests. The summer was going to be very busy. It was getting late and I was about to turn out the lights when I heard a slight knock on the front door. I looked through the window to see who could be here this late. I expected Rita or Faelynn had forgotten their keys, but instead I saw an athletic little cop in a ponytail and blue jeans who usually just showed up to threaten me with incarceration. “Amber, what are you doing here?”
“I’m in trouble and I need your help.”
“You need my help? What do you have like a baking emergency?”
“I think I’m being framed for murder.”
CHAPTER 14
“It’s not another cheerleader, is it?”
She gave me a sharp look. “This is serious, McAllister.”
I wanted to ask her if there’d been a high-school reunion I hadn’t heard about, but I refrained because she was already testy. I led her into the library, and we sat on the couch. “What happened?”
“At eight o’clock tonight I got a text from a CI. He said he needed me to rendezvous ASAP.”
I cut her off. “Rendezvous? Like hook up?”
Amber made a face like she was already regretting coming to me. So Figaro decided to mediate by jumping up to her lap and staring at her.
She ignored him. She was past screaming when he looked at her, so we’d made progress in the few months she’d been showing up here. She pulled up the message on her cell phone and handed it to me. “A CI is a confidential informant. He needed to talk to me right away because it was an emergency. And could I come over after my shift ended at nine.”
I read the message and handed her phone back. “Okay, I’m with you, but if it was an emergency, why didn’t he want you to come immediately?”
“I don’t know; he went dark after that. I thought he was pulling my leg because it’s April Fools’ Day.”
“Oh, you’re right. It is.” That almost explains the day I’ve had.
“I arrived on the scene a little past nine. His front door was cracked open, which was already a bad omen, but I held it and knocked. There was no answer. I announced myself, drew my gun, and went in. All the lights in the apartment were off. I heard a hum and this weird, flapping sound. A window unit air conditioner was turned on High, making a frayed, yellow curtain billow out, and it kept sucking it back against itself. It was dark. I thought there was a pile of laundry on the couch. I called out to my CI again and checked the kitchen at my six.” Her voice was tight, and she was looking straight ahead, reliving the moment. “When I came back to the living room, I switched on the light and realized the pile of laundry was my informant. There was evidence of blood on the wall and couch. He’d been shot in the chest.”
Amber started petting Fig, and he shot me a look that said, What do I do?
“I reached down to take his pulse, but I was too late. He was ice cold and soaking wet. I checked the back of the apartment in case the perp was still there. Whoever had killed him was gone. Before I could call it in, Crabtree and Simmons arrived on the scene. They said they were responding to a 9-1-1 call reporting gunshots. Crabtree had me surrender my firearm while she called the chief to report the incident.”
“Do they think you killed him?”
“Prudence Crabtree transferred down from North Jersey and she’s trying to make a name for herself. I don’t think she would have given me officer courtesy ha
d Simmons not been there. My CI was an underage African American in the system, and I’m an off-duty cop standing over his body with my gun drawn. It doesn’t look good. If this gets leaked to the press, all they’ll say is that a white cop killed an unarmed black youth in his home.”
“Don’t you have that text from him to prove why you were there?”
“That text doesn’t prove anything. And it won’t mean a thing to a reporter trying to make a name for themself. They won’t care about the facts. It’ll destroy my career. I had to go to the station and file an incident report. Chief Fischer put me on administrative leave. He told me not to worry, but he’s not the one facing jail time. I know he’ll have my back if there’s an Internal Affairs investigation. But I can feel it in my gut: something’s wrong. My CI was just a kid. He doesn’t ‘rendezvous.’ And why wait until after my shift? We talk to informants on duty all the time. I should have gone right over there. Somebody killed this kid and I need your help to find out what happened.”
“Me? What can I do? Don’t cops have rules in place for this kind of thing to protect officers? Can’t they check your gun to see if it’s been fired? This can’t be the first time an off-duty cop found a dead body.”
Amber flinched. “Homicide victim. And when they check my gun they’ll see that it was fired because I spent an hour on the shooting range this morning and got called away before I could clean it. The crime lab can run ballistics on the bullets, but dirty cops know their way around the rules. Someone in my department is setting me up. Someone who knew my shift and my informant. I can’t trust anyone. I need you. You have good instincts and you can get access to people and places I won’t be allowed near. This is my whole life, McAllister. My career. If I’m not a cop, who am I?”
I gave Amber a look that said I’d rather eat worms than get involved in a police investigation. “I don’t think I’m the right person . . .”