"Someone really wants to be a grandmother!" A plump woman with a round, pleasant face and short blonde hair sat at a table directly in front of us and elbowed my mother in the side. Mom, being half the woman's size, nearly fell off the chair from the impact.
Josie whispered in my ear. "Do you know who that is?"
I glanced at the woman, who gave me a little finger wave when she noticed my staring. I looked down at the next package so that she wouldn't know we were talking about her. "No idea."
Josie pretended that she was showing me a name on the inside of the card she held out. "That's Marla Channing's mother. You know. The one who has the apartment across the street from the bakery."
At her words, I almost fell off my chair. "The stripper who dated Mike?"
"Who's a stripper?" Gianna leaned toward us with interest.
"Shh." Josie pointed at the card again and gave a fake giggle. My sister and I both laughed on cue as well. "I told you before they only went out a couple of times. She was obsessed with him, not the other way around."
I glanced around the room in a panic. "Marla isn't here, is she?"
"No." Josie pretended to help me untie the bow. "I think your mother knows her mother from church. I'm not sure that Marla even goes to church. From what I hear, she'd keep the confessional pretty busy."
Cripes. I hoped this woman would not bring her daughter to my wedding. I'd have to talk to Mom about it. I knew Mike hadn't exactly been a monk in the ten years we'd been apart, but I had no intention of making friends with a woman my fiancé may or may have not been intimate with.
Josie brought over a square package wrapped in vintage blue paper with red roses on it. She turned it upside down. "Maybe the card's inside."
I unwrapped the package and opened the box to reveal a giant silver fortune cookie. I held it between my hands then lifted it up for everyone in the room to see.
"What is it?" someone yelled.
"It's a fortune cookie jewelry box," Mrs. Channing cackled. "They sell them online." She winked at me. "What a perfect gift for you, honey."
There was a groove in the center of the box that could be moved apart with your fingers in order to lift the lid. The entire object was about four by six inches in size. It wouldn't hold much jewelry, but the overall effect was cute.
"How adorable is this," Gianna squealed as she touched it. "And so fitting."
"Open it up. I want to see the inside." Josie peered over my shoulder.
I lifted the lid. There was a tiny mirror, and the box was lined in white satin. A piece of paper was folded up in the middle. My stomach muscles constricted as I reached for it.
"Oh my God! It even has a fortune. This is so original. Read what it says," Gianna urged.
I opened the piece of paper and stared down at the message that had been printed in large block letters with a black felt marker. A message that had clearly been meant for my eyes only.
Bang, bang. Next time I won't miss.
CHAPTER FIVE
A clanging of bells commenced inside my head. They continued to toil away ominously, growing louder and louder until I thought I might pass out from the noise alone. I struggled against the overwhelming panic that spread through my body. A little voice in my brain reminded me to stay calm. There was no way I could let the guests know what had happened.
Gianna gasped, and the expression on Josie's face was grim. Sixty women were sitting in front of us, watching with curiosity and waiting expectantly for us to share the message with them.
Josie found her voice first. "You guys will have to forgive Sal," she said in a tone that sounded both hoarse and shaky. "She's a little shell-shocked."
"What's it say?" Gladys Shelby, a woman who had worked in real estate with my mother, asked.
Gianna removed the message from my trembling hands, folded it up, and placed it back inside the jewelry box. "Uh, it says that Sal is going to have ten kids. She and Mike have always wanted a large family, but even she's a bit overwhelmed by this. Sal's going to have to bake a lot of cookies to feed that brood."
Everyone laughed and clapped.
Josie handed me another package. She noticed my hands were shaking and in an attempt to steady me, covered them with her warm ones for a minute. Without asking she then began to rip the paper off the box herself. "Sal pinched a nerve in her hand yesterday while baking, and she's a bit tired from opening all these presents, so I'll do the rest."
Fortunately there were only a couple of gifts left. I held them up for the crowd to ooh and aah over but couldn't even remember what they were. I kept thinking about the jewelry box and the message of death inside.
The shooting at Pepe's bakery. That had to be what this was about. All along I had been thinking that someone had deliberately tried to kill Alexandra Walston. It made sense at the time. During the two minutes I'd known the woman, it was obvious that she was mean, insulting, and pretentious. Of course someone wanted her dead.
I placed a hand over my heart in an attempt to steady myself. The truth stung like an angry wasp. Alexandra hadn't been the intended victim. Someone wanted me dead. But why? The realization was both terrifying and mind numbing. I had to call Brian. I needed help—police help—right away.
My mother was at my side. "Sal, it's time for you to cut the cake."
Several women had started to gather with their phones and cameras for pictures. The cake had been provided by the restaurant, a beautiful red velvet masterpiece with vanilla filling. Plates of Grandma Rosa's sumptuous Italian wedding cookies surrounded the cake. Josie had confided to me earlier with pride in her voice that my grandmother had asked her specifically to come over and help with the preparation of the cookies earlier in the week. I didn't say anything but knew Grandma Rosa didn't need any help. It was her way of attempting to include Josie, and I loved her all the more for it.
I swallowed nervously. "Mom, I need to go make a phone call. Can't you cut it?"
She frowned. "Who do you have to call?"
The women were chatting amongst themselves and not paying us any mind, but I did notice that a couple of them, Mrs. Channing in particular, had their ears tuned in to our conversation.
Josie placed a hand on my arm. "I'll go with you to call him, Sal."
"Call who? Mike?" My mother's expression was puzzled.
"I'll help with the cake," Gianna said quietly.
My mother shook her head. "The staff will serve the cake. But Sally has to be the one to cut it. She's the bride." She bent close to me, and despite the numbness in my body, I couldn't help noticing that the strapless halter dress was riding a bit low on her chest and threatening to expose the girls.
"Mom, you need to make a slight clothing adjustment," I whispered.
My mother giggled and turned her back to the crowd while she fixed her dress. "There, all better." She reached for my hand. "Come on. I want to get some pictures."
"Mom, please," I implored. "Just let me make the call first. It can't wait."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Sally Isabella Muccio, you are ruining this shower with your stubbornness."
Gianna's face reddened. "Stop it. No one cares about the stupid cake, Mom!"
Silence filled the room. Everyone stared open-mouthed at beautiful, elegant Gianna who looked as though she couldn't believe what had happened herself. I could almost hear the whispers between the women. "That public defender job has gone right to her head," and, "How disrespectful to talk to your mother like that."
Gianna put a hand to her mouth. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that."
My mother bit into her lower lip, stared at Gianna with tears in her eyes, and then turned on her heel and hurried out of the room.
I shut my eyes and wished that I could disappear. What a mess.
Gianna gave me a slight push. "Go call Brian. I'll take care of everything in here."
As Josie started to follow me out, she squeezed Gianna's hand. "Good luck. They might try to lynch you b
efore we get back."
I started toward the dual metal fire doors that led to the parking lot. Josie grabbed my arm and shoved me in the opposite direction, toward the carpeted main hall in front of the dining room.
Bewildered, I stared at her. "What are you doing?"
"You'd be like a sitting duck out there," she said. "You can't afford to take any chances. We'll call Brian from the ladies' room."
The scant chicken that I had eaten earlier wasn't settling well in the bottom of my stomach, and I prayed I wouldn't be sick. Josie half dragged me to the bathroom. Fortunately no one else was in there as I pressed the button on my phone for Brian's contact information.
To my surprise, a female voice answered. "Hello?"
"Ally?" I asked. "Is that you?"
There was a long pause. "Who's this?"
"It's Sally—Sally Muccio," I stammered. "Could I speak to Brian for a minute?"
Another long pause. "He's in the shower. Can I ask what this is regarding?"
Her voice sounded snippy, and I blinked. This wasn't the Ally I knew. Sure, we hadn't kept in touch since high school, but she'd always been pleasant to me, and even though we'd hung out with different crowds back then, I'd always considered her a friend.
The last time I had seen Ally was a couple of weeks ago at Colwestern Hospital where she worked as a nurse. Someone had tried to attack both Josie and me with a knife. I'd needed stitches in my hand and had run into Ally afterward. Brian had been present as well, and they'd left the building together. At the time Ally couldn't have been sweeter to me.
"Please, Ally, it's very important," I pleaded.
I heard her talking to someone in the background, and then Brian came on the line. "Hi, Sally. Can I help you with something?" He was using his cop voice again—maybe for Ally's benefit this time. I wondered briefly about what Josie said earlier—did Ally know that he had been interested in me before?
"Brian, I'm sorry to interrupt your time with Ally, but I have a serious problem."
His tone changed from aloof to concern. "What's wrong?"
"The shooting yesterday at the bakery," I whispered. "I think that bullet might have been meant for me."
There was no gasp on the other end, no muttering of expletives. Brian's voice was calm, cool, and very businesslike. Policelike. "I was afraid it might have been."
What the heck? "Brian, if you thought so, why didn't you tell me this yesterday?"
"Sally, I wasn't positive," he admitted. "When it comes to your track record, it was something I had to take into consideration. I didn't want to alarm you since I didn't know for certain. What happened to make you think the shooting was intentional?"
A woman opened the door to the restroom, and Josie waved her hands in the air and jumped up and down.
"Nervous bride-to-be in here," Josie said. "Come back later."
The woman gave us a funny look but hastily backed out of the room.
My mouth was dry as unbuttered toast. "I received a message in one of the gifts at my bridal shower today. A fortune cookie message that read Bang, bang. Next time I won't miss."
"Where are you?" Brian wanted to know.
I blew out a breath and tried to steady myself. I had never been much of a drinker, but a shot glass of Amaretto sounded pretty darned good right about now. Brian would make sure nothing happened to me, right? "I'm at Mama Lena's Restaurant. What if this person has booby-trapped my house? Maybe they're lying in wait for me or Mike."
Silence ensued on the other end. "We can do a search. How much longer will you be at the restaurant?"
"Everyone's having cake, so probably about a half hour or so. Mike's bringing his truck over to help me with the gifts, but I need to stop at my parents' house first." I'd have to tell my mother and Grandma Rosa what was going on but didn't want to do it here.
I heard Ally talking in the background again. Brian must have put his hand over the receiver because his voice became muffled. Still, I could hear the angry tone of her voice resonating through the phone. Great. Now I was causing problems between the two of them. "Brian, I'm sorry. Let me call the station and get someone else to help me. You're obviously not working today."
He cleared his throat. "I'll meet you at your parents' house." Then the line went dead.
I disconnected and looked up at Josie. "He's going to meet us at my parents' house in half an hour." I dashed off a quick text to Mike, telling him I was ready to leave. I'd wait until he got here to let him know about the death note. He'd go nuts for sure.
"Maybe it's not as bad as we think," Josie said. "Maybe someone knows about what happened yesterday and is playing a crappy joke on you."
God, I wanted to believe that so much. "I hope you're right."
Gianna rushed into the bathroom, followed by my grandmother. "Everyone's out there inhaling cake and cookies. Some of the women are already packing up and leaving. Are you okay?"
I nodded. "It may have been a practical joke."
Gianna looked relieved. "Do you really think so?"
Grandma Rosa examined my face closely. "Cara mia, do not take any chances. You should call your officer friend and pluck his brain."
Josie let out a bark of laughter. "Is he a chicken now?"
"You mean pick his brain, Grandma," I said.
She shrugged. "That is good too."
"Where's Mom?" I asked.
Gianna closed her eyes for a minute and exhaled. "She left."
"Left?" Josie and I both said simultaneously.
My sister looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I know I was too hard on her, but she was being ridiculous. She's acting like this is her wedding and not yours. And all those nosy biddies out there, gossiping together and whispering!"
"I'm sorry they were cold to you," I said.
She waved a hand impatiently. "Don't worry about that. The best part was when Mrs. Gavelli gave me the finger. She said I must have inherited disrespect from you. Then she said she was going to force Johnny to break up with me."
A smile formed at the corners of my sister's mouth. Gianna knew that was never going to happen. As much as he adored his grandmother, Johnny was putty in Gianna's hands.
Even though I felt bad for Gianna, I couldn't help but giggle at the image of Mrs. Gavelli making an obscene gesture. Soon everyone else joined in as well. It felt good to laugh with the people that I loved and for a brief moment, forget that some lunatic might be out to get me.
CHAPTER SIX
We were gathered in the living room of my parents' house—Mike, Brian, Gianna, Josie, and me. My father was perched at his workstation, typing away merrily on his laptop. I assumed he was hard at work on his death blog—the nickname Gianna had given it. At this rate, I might have some material for him to use soon.
Grandma Rosa descended the stairs slowly and sat down next to me on the brown couch with its green floral pattern. "Your mama—she says that she has a headache and is going to bed."
"Oh, for cripes sake," Gianna grumbled. "How long is Mom planning to carry on like this for? She's such a drama queen."
Grandma Rosa shot my sister a warning look. "That is enough. Sometimes things are not always as they appear."
Grandma Rosa was never afraid to voice her opinion when her daughter acted like a teenager, so I found it interesting that she was now coming to my mother's defense. Something was up, but I'd have to find out what it was later.
Mike placed a protective arm around my shoulders. "Jenkins, I want to know what you and the rest of your precinct are doing to protect Sal from this whack job."
Brian looked pained. "We don't have any concrete proof yet that someone's trying to harm her."
From the way my fiancé looked at Brian, I worried that Mike might be thinking about harming him.
"She needs police protection or else she's not leaving our house until the wedding," Mike insisted. "After our honeymoon, if this nut hasn't been caught yet, we'll have to move elsewhere."
Bewildered, I stared at him. "I can't l
ive that way, Mike. I'll just take some extra precautions until this person is found."
His blue eyes were dark as they stared into mine. "I'm not taking any chances with your safety."
"What about the past murder investigations Sal's has been involved with?" Josie asked Brian. "Can you find out if anyone has gotten out of jail? Maybe someone is pissed off at her for helping to put them away and is looking for revenge."
Brian nodded. "I'm already looking into this and should have some answers shortly." His gaze met mine again. "Was anyone acting suspicious at the shower?"
I shook my head. "Not that I can think of." A vision of the well-wishing waiter then came to mind. "Well, there was this—no, I'm sure it doesn't mean anything."
Brian leaned forward. "At this point, please don't disregard anything, Sally."
"The waiter." I turned to Gianna and Josie. "Did you guys see him?"
"He was talking to you when he removed your plate," Josie said. "I didn't really see his face though. That was the only time I saw him all afternoon."
"He asked me if I was the bride," I explained to Brian. "Then he said something like, 'Best of luck. May you always have good fortune.' He sounded like a fortune cookie."
"Maybe he was Chinese?" my father asked and continued to type away, in his own little zone like always. He didn't notice the incredulous looks we all shot his way.
"I'll call the owner of the restaurant and check it out." Brian gestured to Mike. "You know, there's a chance that the note, if it was referring to the shooting, could have been meant for you and not Sally."
Mike frowned. "I'd rather it was but think that's doubtful. What, has a customer got it in for me because I screwed up their foundation, and now they want me dead? Forget it. I'm not buying that theory. It's someone who knows about the fortune cookies in Sal's bakery. They're out to get her, not me."
Brian clenched his teeth together as if aggravated. "You were at DeAngelo's Bakery with Sally when the shooting occurred. Perhaps someone was trying to get you, and they put the message in the jewelry box to torment her. They obviously know you're getting married. Do you have any enemies? Anyone who doesn't like you?"
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