by Jen Carter
But before he could confess anything, I heard Jules’ voice down the hallway.
“Hello?” She called softly. “Anyone home?”
I stood up. “Jules?” I said, nice and loud.
No answer.
I looked at Aldo. He cleared his throat and motioned for me to sit down again.
“It’s okay, Jules,” Aldo called down the hallway. “You can come in. We will tell Jill.”
Tell me what?
Jules appeared in the kitchen doorway looking more abashed than I had ever seen her. Was she actually turning red, for real?
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Jules eyed Aldo silently, waiting for him to answer, shifting her weight like a guilty teenager.
“Well, you see,” Aldo began slowly. He cleared his throat again. “As you know, Eduardo was put on a diet by his doctor. And the rest of us, we decided to do it with him. We all should be healthier, you know? And we’ve been exercising, of course. But, you see, it’s difficult for me to eat just vegetables and chicken. I need pasta. I need tiramisu. I need wine. I’m Aldo, and I need those things. I’m not skinny Morrie or skinny Artie. I’m Aldo.”
I smiled at my grandfather. I could see where this was going.
“So Jules has been sneaking you treats?” I asked.
Jules walked into the kitchen and placed a grease-soaked white bag on the table. “We haven’t quite gotten the kinks worked out of the system,” she said. “First I was dropping the treats off here in the morning, but then with Holly waking up earlier, that was risky. She was already mad that there wasn’t any junk stocked in the fridge, and if she knew that Aldo was cheating while she was going without, she’d be even madder. Then yesterday I handed the treats to him in a backpack at tai chi, but we never talked about how the backpack would be returned to me for this morning’s delivery. And so now I’m back here delivering the treats and running the risk of a granddaughter finding out.”
I tried to stifle a laugh but was completely unsuccessful.
“I was wondering why you were acting so weird,” I said to Jules. “Now I get it.”
It didn’t explain why she never showed up again last night when we were all in the tasting room acting like pseudo-literary sleuths. Maybe she was just too tired or too worried by the note to come back. But everything else made sense. Seeing her in Aldo’s house the other day, the backpack—it all made sense.
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” I said, patting Aldo’s hand. “I won’t tell anyone, not even Holly. Besides, this is good for her. She needs to learn that she can’t just expect the food she wants to appear in the fridge. She could take the initiative and go to the grocery store on her own.”
Aldo smiled. “Ah, it’s baby steps for Holly. She’s waking up early now, so that’s step one. Maybe next she’ll move onto feeding herself.”
I grabbed the white bag and looked inside. “Speaking of feeding ourselves, I skipped breakfast this morning. Can I have one of these?” I pulled out the most beautiful chocolate bar I had ever seen and looked back and forth between Jules and Aldo. I didn’t care who gave me permission. Either one of them would do the trick.
I think Aldo actually hesitated. But in the end, his love for his middle granddaughter overcame his fervent desire for the beautiful chocolate bar, and he nodded. “Help yourself,” he said.
And I did.
Jules slipped out before Holly and the boys came back in, Aldo scarfed down a donut on his own while I was on lookout, and then I also slipped out. I left Uni with Aldo at his request. He wanted to take her to morning coffee. He thought his buddies would be impressed that he was taking her for walks on top of all the other exercising they were doing together.
So far, it had been another unexpected morning. I had not thought that Aldo would be cheating on his diet or that Jules would be helping him. And I hadn’t thought Sandie Oaks would have ended up with an Edgar Allan Poe note. Even more surprising to me was that Aldo knew about it. How much time was he spending with Sandie these days? Watching play practice in the afternoon while sitting too close, walking in the afternoon, talking about the creepy “Annabel Lee” note—it seemed like they were spending a lot of time together.
Could Sandie have a thing for Aldo? Or, even more mind-blowing, could Aldo have a thing for Sandie?
After losing his wife all those years ago, really?
No.
Maybe?
I’d have to process that later. There were too many other things going on now.
TWENTY-TWO
My grandfather and his growing group of exercise buddies must have changed the time for their afternoon walk because the park was distraction-free when we showed up for play practice. It was just the kids and the three adults in charge—me, Livy, and Esther. Well, sometimes I thought we were semi-adults who were semi-in charge, but hopefully we had the high schoolers fooled into thinking we had it under control.
But then, our distraction-free practice turned upside down.
Fitts showed up, and he was not looking happy.
I wasn’t the first to notice him. I was just starting to get somewhere with Eli. He had almost all his lines in one scene memorized, and all my focus was going into being excited for him. I was so happy and relieved that I was almost ready to do cartwheels, but that happiness and relief evaporated when I heard Gracie calling to Livy across the park.
“Livy! Is that the police?” she said.
I looked up. Sure enough, Fitts was striding across the park toward us, no doubt on a mission. Once he was within earshot, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called, “I need Victor Zapata. Where is he?”
I scanned the park. I had definitely seen Victor earlier, but now he was nowhere in sight.
I scrambled to my feet and started over to Fitts.
“Not now, D’Angelo,” he said. “I don’t have time for your questions.”
I ignored him.
“Why do you need Victor? I’ll go find him for you. Is he in trouble?”
“You bet your sweet bippy he is.”
“My sweet what?”
Fitts let out a frustrated groan. “It’s an expression. Where is he?”
“I’ll find him.” I scanned the park again for the teenage version of tall, dark, and needs-a-haircut. Still, he was nowhere in sight. But I did spot Livy walking toward us.
“Is there a problem?” she asked.
“You bet your sweet bippy,” I said.
She gave me a sideways look. Apparently she didn’t know what a bippy was either.
“What’d Victor do?” Livy asked. “Do we need to call his parents?”
Fitts shrugged. “You can do whatever you want, but his parents aren’t my concern right now. I want to know why he wrote that fake note on his script the other day.”
“What do you mean, fake note?” Livy asked.
“I mean just what I said,” Fitts responded. “That note he ‘found’ in his script,” Fitts was now using air quotes, “was written by him. The handwriting analysis came back. I want to know if he was trying to derail my investigation or just trying to get out of play practice that day.”
“It was probably neither,” Livy said. “I bet he was scared about everything that had happened. Three of the four people who found Fleming got notes. He probably thought it looked suspicious that he didn’t get one, so he faked one.”
“Yeah, and really, he’s eighteen,” I added. “Kids don’t always think about the ramifications of their actions.”
Come to think of it, neither did adults. I was Exhibit A. But I didn’t add that.
“Of course kids don’t think,” Fitts said gruffly. “Which is why he might have wanted to mess with my investigation.”
Livy and I looked at each other. I didn’t think Fitts really understood what we meant.
“But he probably didn’t want to mess with your investigation just to throw you off,” I said. “He probably wanted to cover his butt because he was scared, and any mess
ing with your investigation was just a side effect.”
Fitts gave me a raised eyebrow that clearly meant I know more than you. “That’s assuming he didn’t have anything to do with Fleming’s death in the first place.”
Livy and I looked at each other again. The more I was around apathetic Victor, the less I thought he could muster the energy or desire to do anything requiring effort. I was pretty sure Livy agreed with me.
Movement across the park caught the corner of my eye. I looked toward the two people walking our way. One was definitely Victor. And the other…
Was that seriously Dr. Stevens?
That man would not go away. Why was he always here?
I pointed at the two of them, stifling an annoyed sigh. “Looks like you got your guy,” I said.
Fitts’ eyes followed my pointing finger. “Oh yeah,” he said. Then he gave me a crooked smile. “And look, the kid’s with your favorite person, D’Angelo.”
It took all my willpower not to cringe.
“Hello, Detective,” Dr. Stevens said as he and Victor approached. “We heard you’re looking for Victor. May I ask what the problem is?”
Fitts up-nodded at Victor. “He faked that Shakespeare note in his script the other day. I want an explanation for the games he’s been playing ever since Fleming was found.”
Dr. Stevens looked at Victor, waiting, just like a father who had been told his son stole something. I half expected Dr. Stevens to say, Victor, son, is this true?
But he didn’t. He continued looking at Victor who suddenly found his feet very interesting.
“I don’t know why I did it,” Victor finally said. “I just did.”
“Come on kid, let’s go,” Fitts said. “We need to find a place to talk.”
Fitts started walking toward Via del Corso. Victor glanced at Stevens and then followed, alone.
Livy and I immediately protested.
“He can’t go by himself,” I said.
“He needs an adult with him,” Livy said.
“Jill, please,” Dr. Stevens said to me. “Victor isn’t even your student. I need you to stay out of this.”
Fitts turned around at Stevens’ words. He looked at my condescending principal, and then he looked at me with another stupid, crooked smile.
Yes, yes, I was being reprimanded by my principal in public, and it was oh-so amusing. Sure. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, hoping the air would push down the impulse to tell Stevens that Victor wasn’t his student either.
Fitts walked back toward Stevens. “Look, I don’t have time for his deadbeat parents. He went running to you when he saw me pull up five minutes ago, so you can come along if you want. You’re probably more helpful than those parents anyway.”
Stevens nodded and then said to Victor, “Go get your backpack.” As Victor ran off, Stevens turned to Fitts and said, “I just need to let someone know where I’m going.” He pulled out his cell phone and wandered away from us as he tapped on its screen.
Once Stevens was out of earshot, Fitts turned to me.
“Before I go, just one more thing, D’Angelo,” he said.
I waited for him to remind me that this investigation was none of my business, but then his face broke into a huge grin. And I mean his whole face—it was like his cheeks and his eyes and even his chin were grinning at me.
“That principal does not like you,” he said, shaking his head and chuckling. “Wow, he does not like you at all.”
I pursed my lips. Captain Obvious strikes again.
My hands shot to my hips. “That’s not a surprise,” I said. “I already told you that.”
“So what’d you do to him?” Fitts asked. “Are you super nosy and try to do his job like you do with me? Because that will put anyone over the edge.”
Fitts started walking toward Victor, who was halfway across the park and had just picked up his backpack. Over his shoulder, the detective called, “You know, he really is a nice guy. I’m telling you, just give him a chance.”
Livy covered her face with her hands and drew her fingers downward until her eyes were visible. She let out a helpless, perhaps disbelieving, laugh. “What just happened? My brain is going to explode.”
I shook my head at my feet, my hands still on my hips. “So Fitts likes my boss, my boss likes Victor, and no one likes me.”
Livy sighed. “Well, I love you, and isn’t that all that matters?” She pulled her phone from her back pocket and looked at the screen. As she started tapping on it, she said, “I know Fitts said that Victor’s parents are deadbeats. I don’t know if that’s true, but they probably still need to know what’s going on.” After scrolling through her contacts for a moment, she looked up and scanned the park. “Where’s Esther? I don’t have Victor’s home contact information in my phone, but I bet she has it. Let me take care of that, and then we’ll do our best to salvage the rest of practice. I know the kids will be distracted by what just happened, but we can try.”
***
That night, I was back at D’Angelo tasting room with Uni, waiting for Nico to finish at Entonces and sorting out the papers with names and quotes from the night before. Nico was close to hiring a new manager for Entonces, and I hoped I was close to seeing a pattern in the quotes. By the end of the night, maybe we’d both have wrapped up something that had been weighing on us. And then we could celebrate with cheeseburgers from the always-dog-friendly Jada’s Café.
“What new information do you have?” Holly said from behind the deserted bar. “Anything?”
I shrugged at the papers spread across the floor. “Not much. Victor faked his note, so I guess I can get rid of that quote. But then Sandie Oakes and Dr. Stevens both got cards with Edgar Allan Poe quotes, so I need to add those. I don’t know the details, though. I know the poem was ‘Annabel Lee’ for both of them, but not the specific lines.”
“Ah, a poem about lost love,” Holly said.
“Yep.”
“So sad.”
“Yep.”
“I don’t think Sandie’s recovered from losing her husband.”
I looked over at my sister. Sandie had a husband? “When did that happen?”
Holly straightened a row of wine bottles on the counter, her expression thoughtful. “Years ago. Long before you started spending so much time in OV. Maybe about a year after Mom and Dad died. Cancer. I think they had been married about thirty years when he got sick.”
I nodded at the papers on the floor and wrote “Annabel Lee” across a blank sheet. The thought of losing a life-long partner made my insides ache. “I can’t even imagine,” I said.
“Maybe Dr. Stevens got the same note because he went through something similar,” Holly said.
Well, that was a terrible thought. I didn’t wish that upon anyone—not even my boss.
I looked at the wall of barrels, my eyes instinctively going to Sonnet 94. “Who would know that about Dr. Stevens and Sandie? And who would be so cruel to taunt them with a heartbreaking poem about lost love?”
Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.
Whoever sent those notes was a festering lily.
“If these notes really are connected to Fleming’s death, we already know how cruel the person responsible can be,” Holly said.
I felt my heart breaking for Sandie. She had lost her husband years ago, but I hadn’t known about it, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it now.
“Have you noticed Aldo and Sandie hanging around more lately? I mean, she’s been watching play practice with him and joining in some of the exercise sessions with the Council of Elders. I don’t remember she and Aldo being such good friends before this week.”
“It’s been a unique week,” Holly said.
“Do you think she might be interested in him? Like maybe she’s ready to find love again?”
“She’s not interested in Aldo.”
“You sound so certain.” I gave my sister a suspicious look. What did she know?
“It’s just
been a unique week, that’s all,” Holly said. “They both like plays, they both like seeing kids involved in school stuff, and they both need exercise. I think that’s it.”
Holly was definitely certain.
But I still wasn’t so certain.
After a long moment of silence, I asked, “Do you think Aldo will ever date again? I mean, his wife died before we were even born, and we’ve never seen him with a girlfriend. Do you think that’s by choice?”
Holly sighed. “Well,” she began.
But she never got to express the thought on her mind because just then my phone rang. I looked at it sitting next to me on the floor. Hunter was calling.
Hunter? He never called me. He probably hadn’t even texted me five times, ever.
“Hold that thought,” I said, picking up the phone. “Hunter’s calling.”
“Hunter?” Holly said as I connected the call. Apparently she was just as surprised as I was.
“Hey, Hunter,” I said.
“Jill, have you seen Livy? She texted me earlier about going to the hardware store after play practice, and she’s not back yet. She’s not answering her phone, either.”
I pulled my phone away from my ear to look at the time displayed on its screen. It was after eight o’clock. Play practice ended more than three hours ago. That did seem like a long time to spend at the hardware store, especially without a follow up text saying, hey, I’ll be a little later than planned. Livy was pretty good about things like that.
“I haven’t seen her,” I said slowly. As the words came, an overwhelming sense of dread clenched my stomach.
TWENTY-THREE
Livy did not answer the phone when I called her. She did not answer when Holly called. And when we got ahold of Stella and had her call Livy, she did not answer Stella’s call.
I was trying not to worry about my friend being MIA. Chances were that she was out running errands and lost track of time. Maybe she put her phone on silent for play practice and forgot to switch it back, so she didn’t know people were calling. Or maybe her phone battery was dead.