The cardinal opened his mouth as if to protest, but instead beckoned an underling bearing a clipboard. After a few harsh words in Italian, the younger of the two hurried away.
The Holy Father next received the Hayes family, happily accepting Ian’s prize-winning Pinewood Box Derby car and a jar of Lorena’s grave dirt. Gina brought forth a St. Benedict’s medal for blessing.
“For our Uncle Arthur, who could not be here,” she said, and Ronnie smiled. Though she had not been able to talk to Gina as she had promised her uncle, she had in a small way helped in their reconciliation. That Ronnie’s life had been threatened once again gave Gina the incentive to realize that life was too short to hold grudges. Her reunion with Arthur had been emotional for everybody, and Ronnie hoped the video her father was making would do the day some justice so Arthur could experience it by proxy.
The Holy Father pointed in the direction of two approaching men. “I take it he is the younger one, yes?” he asked Ronnie.
“Yes.” Ronnie took Lew’s arm, eyeing curiously the smile on Ethan’s face as he fell into place beside Nana. More introductions were made, and Ronnie held her breath as Nana introduced Ethan to the Pope, praying the man would not be rude.
To her surprise, Ethan was gracious and unflinching as he held out his hand. She could not hear the niceties exchanged for the pounding in her ears, and before she knew it the pontiff’s secretary was guiding the old man away with one last blessing before the family was escorted to the front stage for the start of the ceremony.
Ronnie held back as Lew followed her sister, tugging at Ethan’s sleeve as he passed. “Give it up, old man,” she hissed in his ear, low enough so Nana, who had forged ahead, could not hear.
“Veronica Lord, what are you talking about?” Ethan frowned.
“Come off it. You had a golden opportunity to witness the Church’s head honcho, and you do nothing. I know your blood’s boiling, and you probably can’t wait to run to the nearest men’s room and wash your hand.” She caught a flash of yellow paper sticking out from his coat pocket and reached for it. “Aha!”
She expected a tract, but found only a folded-up hotel receipt, which Ethan took back.
“Thank you, Artful Dodger,” he said. They had reached the front now, and a roar from the crowd drowned out his next words as the Archbishop of Miami approached the sole microphone onstage.
Ronnie took a chair between him and Lew. “What did you say?” she demanded as the noise died.
“I said being a Christian sometimes means making sacrifices.” Ethan sat up straight. “I, for example, made a rather large one, but it’s small potatoes compared to your grandmother’s.”
“What? What’s Nana doing?” Ronnie asked, but the archbishop had announced the Pope and everybody on stage stood as the crowd cheered. The pontiff entered stage left, passing the large dais of area clergy and the Alger family, all of whom applauded.
Ronnie watched her grandmother watch the Pope’s every move with awe, and caught a blinding flash from the old woman’s hand.
She had not seen that ring on her grandmother’s hand before. A simple band with a solitary diamond.
Much like the one Lew had given her.
Murder Most Trivial: a Jason Greevey Mystery
Also available as an individual eBook, trade paperback, and audiobook
Chapter One
“Hey, baby!”
She was a blur of red lipstick and oily black curls, wobbling ungracefully toward Dan Greevey from a gaggle of mid-week revelers congregated on the second floor of Norfolk’s Waterside entertainment complex. A dewy plastic cup of beer crinkled in her hand as she bayed her greeting. “You’re lookin’ sponge worthy, wanna make me the queen of your castle?”
A gust of beer-scented breath stung Dan’s eyes and nostrils. He turned his face away but was assaulted from the side by a blast of cigarette smoke originating from a clique dressed in sharp business suits. The woman, his son Jason had pointed out as they ascended the stairs, strongly resembled Seinfeld character Elaine Benes. Sporting a voluminous hairdo similar to that of the television character with the curls piled on top of her head, the woman wore a long floral print skirt, saddle shoes with white socks and a black sport coat, a surprising complement to Dan’s white Polo shirt and blue jeans.
“No thanks, I’m spoken for,” he said politely and turned to follow his girlfriend, Willie, and his son into Jillian’s. Pseudo-Elaine, however, managed to pin Dan against the picture window of the Christmas shop situated between Jillian’s and Bar Norfolk, blocking all escape routes back to his party. She showed no signs of letting him go, either.
“So,” she grinned, exposing tall rows of white teeth and giggling like a smitten schoolgirl, “you think I’ll win the contest?”
“Contest?”
Dan spied a distant poster advertising Bar Norfolk’s television character look-alike competition, put on by the popular night spot as part of the Waterside’s “May Sweeps” week. The Waterside’s other bars and restaurants were sponsoring similar activities. Dan, at the behest of Willie and Jason, had allowed the two to drag him to Jillian’s for a trivia contest designed along the lines of Trivial Matters, currently the most popular game show on prime-time television.
Dan wondered if he would make it inside Jillian’s in time, seeing as how this woman had no intention of moving along to more interested, more intoxicated prey. He glanced over the woman’s shoulder; several feet away Willie was studying the menu display in front of Jillian’s and turned in his direction only when Jason elbowed her arm and pointed toward him and Pseudo-Elaine. Apparently neither one had witnessed his abduction, and they laughed at his predicament.
A little help here? Dan mouthed, growing irritated. Pseudo-Elaine, meanwhile, braced her free arm against the wall and leaned in with the other to offer Dan a sip of beer, which he declined with a gentle swat.
“No thanks. Uh, yeah, I think you’ll win,” Dan said at last, easing to the left along the storefront and carefully moving the woman aside. “You got the cast of Law and Order over there beat, anyway. Nice meeting you.”
He hurried away and a string of animated partygoers flooded the space between him and the woman whose glazed yet devilish eyes followed him to the entrance of Jillian’s as he ushered Jason and Willie deep inside.
Jason and Willie continued to laugh heartily at Dan’s slight misfortune, each clinging to Dan as they wove through Jillian’s noisy video game parlor toward the back dining area, where the trivia contest was scheduled to take place. “Dad, that was so funny!” Jason gasped, soothing his father with a good-natured pat on the shoulder. “Did she tell you that you were sponge-worthy?”
“She did. What’s that supposed to mean, anyway?” Dan asked to further howling laughter. He furrowed his brows; Jason noticed his father’s perplexed expression and explained briefly yet candidly the Seinfeld episode that spawned the catchphrase: how Elaine, in a frugal attempt to conserve a dwindling supply of contraceptive sponges, became quite selective with whom she chose to use them.
Dan reddened and shook his head. “Utterly tasteless,” he declared, surprised to hear such talk from his son’s mouth. A copy of his father with hazel eyes and short, straw-brown hair cut short with bangs, Jason was a senior at Colley Avenue High this year, where Dan taught Latin and Advanced Placement English. Dan enjoyed having a job that allowed him to be home for Jason, and while the boy enjoyed the freedom to watch movies and television and purchase music without parental supervision, Dan never imagined the cultural influence would be so strong as to cause Jason to repeat and relish such crude humor.
Jason was a good kid, a straight-A student, Eagle Scout and altar boy, the envy of most parents in their parish who suffered unruly offspring. Dan had raised his son to appreciate better things than off-color jokes.
“Aw, Dad.” Jason shook off his father’s frown. “It’s just a TV show. It’s not like I’m dressing up as characters like those people back there were.”
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p; “Yeah, and don’t forget the Trekkers,” Willie added. “They don’t need an occasion like this to wear their uniforms in public.”
“Whatever,” Dan grunted, exasperated. He looked around at the people hypnotized by the flashing arcade lights and calliope music and realized he was more concerned now with the number of drinks in hand rather than television shows. These same people would be on the streets in their cars later. Perhaps he should have been firmer with Jason, he thought, and negated this whole outing. They could have stayed home and watched the trivia program from the safety and sanity of their living room. Willie could have come over, they could have popped some corn and ordered in pizza and kept score on note pads.
Then again, he and Jason rarely did anything out together anymore given the growing piles of homework Dan brought home to grade, not to mention Jason’s increasing social calendar and part-time job, though Jason was planning to resign this weekend to free up his last summer before college. To have Willie present was a plus. Herself a teacher at Colley, she got along fine with his son long before she and Dan began dating six months ago.
He relaxed a bit and let Willie lead him by the arm toward the dining area. He did like Trivial Matters, and maybe they would have some fun with the contest. “Maybe I’ll just kick your butt, too,” he teased his son.
“Oh yeah? You willing to put your money where your mouth is?” Jason drawled.
“Son, I’m a high school teacher. What’s money?”
People filed noisily into the back dining area, many toting drinks procured from other bars and eateries located within the huge entertainment center that was Jillian’s. This particular area was decorated in a sports motif: regional team pennants, posters and photos were tacked high on the walls alongside worn football jerseys and other memorabilia. “This place must get crowded during the big sports events,” Dan commented to himself.
A hostess seated the three at a booth alongside a large picture window overlooking the Elizabeth River. The town of Portsmouth, across the water, twinkled and hummed along the late evening horizon. Willie pointed at the progress of a distant hotel under construction as a waitress arrived to take their drink orders and deliver menus.
“We’ve set up the complimentary appetizer buffet by the bar,” the perky, petite blond in the skimpy blue and white uniform explained in a little girl’s voice. The shiny name tag pinned to her half-exposed bosom announced that her name was Courtney. “I’ll be right back with your drinks and answer sheets for the contest.”
The waitress bounced away, her ponytail swaying like a pendulum, and Jason leapt from his seat immediately afterward for the buffet with a promise to get snacks for the whole table. Willie, anticipating a private moment, slid closer to Dan but was surprised by the mild scowl on his face.
“What?” she asked innocently.
“Thanks a lot for coming to my rescue back there,” Dan said sarcastically. “I’ll try to remember your unselfish courage when I’m drafting my will.”
Willie only tossed her head back and laughed, throwing her frizzy bronze hair in the air. The stale, yellow lights beaming down upon their booth cast a kind of ethereal glow about her, bringing out the copper highlights. Dan, no longer able to hide his irritation, laughed along with her, enamored with how the look enhanced her light mocha skin and brown eyes, which were at the moment sparkling and reflecting the gaiety around them.
“Oh, Danny, loosen up!” she chided. “She was harmless! Two more seconds and she probably would have slumped to the floor and you could have stepped over her towards freedom.”
“Now, Willie,” Dan groaned. He saw little humor in the sight of the intoxicated Waterside patroness. Not that Dan was a complete tee-totaler; his Irish father often joked about how Greevey blood was seventy-proof, but he knew his limits and it ached to see others abusing themselves in such a manner. Who knew what poor schlep pseudo-Elaine had pinioned in a corner of Bar Norfolk at this very moment? Worse yet, would she eventually be the one preyed upon by somebody unscrupulous and willing to take advantage of her current state?
Lord, see her home safely, he prayed. See them all home, sober and wiser for it.
Lost in this reverie, Dan jumped in his seat slightly as he saw a large plastic tumbler of iced tea cross his line of vision; the waitress had returned. Willie carried on lightly, unaware her boyfriend had tuned out the rest of the world. “Anyway,” she was saying with mock irritation, “go ahead and cut me out of your will. Everything you own is so dang tacky, I probably couldn’t give it away at a garage sale.” She tightened her lips around her straw and took a long pull from her Diet Coke.
Before Dan could retort, Jason slammed back into his side of the booth, arms laden with small plates of spicy chicken wings, bacon-wrapped scallops, crab rangoons, and puddles of bleu cheese dressing. “This should hold us until the food arrives,” he said.
Willie paled at the spread. The tiny mountain of greasy scallop appetizers on one plate looked to ready to avalanche. Not a vegetable in sight. “What do you mean, when the food arrives?” she cried. “Look at this! It’s more than I eat in a week! Surely we’re not going to be ordering off the menu, too?”
“Trust me, he will, at least,” Dan said dryly as he pulled apart two ends of a fried wonton wrapper before devouring the split bulb of flaked crab bits and cream cheese.
Courtney returned once more with small, eraserless pencils, three contest papers and an apology for not delivering them with the drinks, as the demand for entries sorely outnumbered the supply. Dan imagined a crowd of wait staff huddled around a copy machine in the restaurant office, eagerly awaiting copies to distribute.
Jason sucked clean his sauce-soaked fingers before pawing his papers. “So, how’s it work? Is it like the show?”
“Pretty much,” Courtney nodded, tapping the corner of one of Willie’s answer sheets with a bright red fingernail. “Everybody gets three multiple-choice answer sheets, one for each round of play. When the game starts, we’ll have people stationed around the tables who will collect them and check for answers. The people with the most correct answers in the first wave move on to the next round, and so on.”
Jason studied his papers, all of which looked very similar to the bubble answer sheets distributed with the recent slew of standardized tests he had to take, and nodded. He knew the rules of the hour-long Trivial Matters by heart. On television, the game started with fifty contestants who began the first lightning round answering twenty multiple-choice questions by punching letters on a small keypad. People watching at home saw each question and four possible answers on the bottom of their television screens. Once completed, the answers were revealed, and the ten highest scorers advanced to Round Two. In the event of a tie for positions, timed questions were given to the players in question, with the first person to answer correctly winning the coveted spot in the top ten.
Round Two of the game was played the same way, only the questions were more difficult. From there the top five scorers advanced to a longer round, where the answers were revealed after each question. Questions, too, were now worth money. Players who got a question right won ten points which translated into dollar amounts, while those who did not received nothing. The player with the most points at the end of the game moved on to the special bonus round to answer five mind-bending questions in the space of a minute. A perfect score won the player ten thousand dollars.
His back to the video screen, Jason craned his neck around to survey the crowd; the dining area capacity well exceeded fifty people. “I take it you’re not going to limit the number of players like they do on the show, huh?” he asked the waitress.
Courtney shook her head. “No, the way we’re going to do it is to have only the people who get perfect scores advance from Round One, doesn’t matter how many. Same for the second round, but we’re going to try to keep only ten people for the longer round. Top five winners there get the prizes.”
“So, does the big winner here get ten thousand dollars?” Willie fol
ded her arms over her own test sheets.
“Hardly. Course, if they did, I’d play myself.” Courtney rolled her eyes, then poised a pen to her pad as Jason ordered a Philly steak sandwich and French fries. Dan ordered the same.
“For you, ma’am?”
Willie eyed the plates of appetizers arranged around Jason in a semicircle and fought back a ripple of nausea when Dan scooped a dollop of dressing onto a loaded potato skin. “Salad,” she finally requested. “Just a nice, big salad.” Courtney left with a smile to place the order.
“So what is the big prize then, if it’s not a wad of cash?” Dan asked. Jason printed his name in thick block letters on lines indicated at the top of the first answer sheet. “I saw a board over by the buffet,” he said. “First prize is a wad of cash, actually, but it’s only like a thousand bucks, plus passes to see a live Trivial Matters taping. I guess you use the money for expenses. Second through fifth places get free gift certificates for dinner.”
Mystery Bundle (Saints Preserve Us, Pray For Us Sinners, Murder Most Trivial) Page 42