Deadly Dirty Martinis

by Nicole Leiren

  "I think we have a new puzzle to solve." Her eyes brightened, and she rubbed her hands together, like trying to generate heat on a cold day.

  Mandi's enthusiasm spilled over right onto my lap. We'd managed to solve decades-old puzzles before. This one was only twenty-four hours old, as far as I knew. "Right, and since this puzzle is as fresh as Tara's salad every day, what are the odds on us solving it in the next day or two?"

  She jumped up. "I'd say the odds are very high in our favor." Her face fell for a moment. "Though I don't have exact or confirmed numbers to provide."

  "You two crack me up." Tanner's remark earned him another pillow to the face.

  Mandi grabbed her purse. "I'm going to head out and let you crazy kids catch up and do whatever else you do when he comes home for a visit. Want to see how Mom is doing too."

  "She go out with your dad tonight?" Tanner asked.

  "Yeah, they're still working on the reconciliation piece, but I'm one hundred percent confident they'll find their way back to each other."

  I moved away from Tanner to give Mandi a hug and walk her out. "I'm confident too."

  She nodded and smiled. "See you tomorrow morning. Don't stay up too late, and," she whispered, "be safe."

  I didn't even want to think about what she might be referencing. Best to usher her out the door before she embarrassed herself or me. "Bye, Mandi. Tell Mom I said hi."

  Tanner helped me put the empty pizza boxes in the recycling bin and the cups into the dishwasher. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and tossed it at him. "Thanks. I didn't realize you were so domestic."

  He flashed me a wide grin. "I'm a man of many talents, including realizing you didn't answer my question about where you found the paper. Mandi might be blinded by a new puzzle to solve, but the only puzzle I'm interested in right now is where it came from."

  "We can talk about that later. Come sit with me and tell me how finals went. How's your mom and sister?" Patting the cushion next to me, I invited him over. Quality time with Tanner was long overdue.

  Tanner stretched out his long frame on the couch and lifted his arm to invite me into my favorite snuggling position. Curled up next to him provided warmth, friendship, and support—three of my favorite things.

  "Mom is a little stressed. Ashley has been acting weird since school started. And, I still think we should talk about that piece of paper."

  "She's fifteen. Weird is normal. Girls have these little critters called hormones. They're tricky devils that take all our good intentions and twist them for nefarious purposes."

  He turned, pulling me closer. His lips, soft and warm, covered my mouth and silenced any further health education lesson I might share. All too soon, he pulled away with a grin. His thumb slid across my well-kissed lips. "There are less nefarious purposes for hormones."

  When the man was right, he was right. I smiled and snuggled back in, cocooned in a blanket of contentment. "I'm glad you're home."

  "How's your family?" Tanner's fingertips, nice and smooth, slid up and down my arm. "And where did you find the note?"

  Relentless, this man was. My proverbial blanket was ripped away. "You want to talk about this now?"

  "I think I've been pretty patient." There was a slight tease in his voice, but I knew he wanted answers.

  "Can we make a deal?" Maybe I would make a good debater…or delayer, take your pick.

  "I'm listening."

  "I'll tell you about the note, and we'll save the family talk for later? I'd hate to ruin our entire night with rehashing the disappointment of my youth."

  Tan's head lowered, and his lips found the curve of my neck. Thankfully, I'd taken time when I got home to freshen up in the bathroom and apply some perfume. I knew my efforts were worth it when he whispered, "Much better fragrance than the olive juice. I'll take your deal since I need something to distract my hormones from the less-than-honorable purposes I have in mind."

  A small part of me, a part that grew a little more each time Tan and I spent time together like this, made me wonder if risking the Romeo-and-Juliet curse of my family might be worth giving in to all those urges and emotions that I fought hard against on a daily basis. I forced myself to think of those feelings in a more scientific term to help keep myself in check, but maybe it was time to reconsider. Only time would tell. Time now to face the music. I pulled away from the comfort of his embrace. "The paper was in Donny's hat. It fell onto the ground when I tried to return the hat to its original spot."

  "Lilly…" Amazing how my name can be said in a tone that conveys disappointment, worry, and maybe even a touch of anger.

  "I know. I know. I tried to put it back in the hat band, but my fingers were shaking so bad. Then, with everything that happened, I forgot about it until just now. Besides, who keeps papers in their hat?" It was a lame excuse but the only one I had right now. Curiosity truly was a problem I regularly faced.

  Tanner had moved away from me completely now, his head shaking. "People who want to hide things, that's who."

  Valid point. "I'm sorry, but it's too late. My mother is going to be at the top of the suspect list by tomorrow morning. Maybe solving this important clue, if that's what it is, will help clear her and help the police find the real killer."

  He leaned back in the cushions, his head resting on the back of the couch. "You realize what you've done, right?"

  "Aside from the obvious?" I tried a smile, but it didn't work.

  He lifted his head, those ice blue eyes piercing through me with concern. "Best case scenario, you've invited trouble from the DC police force for tampering with the crime scene."

  I swallowed hard, waiting for the rest. "And worst case?"

  "You've stolen something important to the Giovanni family, and they'll keep looking until they find it."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Sundays at the tavern were normally quiet. Since The Barking Spiders had come into town, nothing had been normal. I'd barely unlocked the door when a tall man, at least tall compared to me, maybe six-foot, came in. The creases in his dark suit stood at attention matching the ramrod-straight length of his spine. His black-as-night eyes only added to the powerful and menacing vibes radiating from his broad shoulders. Black hair and black tie. This guy could've filled in for Will Smith or Tommy Lee Jones in the original Men in Black without missing a beat.

  "Who's in charge here?"

  I looked around for a moment. Oh, wait. Guess that would be me. Next to Mr. Dark and Ominous, my khaki pants and burgundy boho blouse with small pleats and fitted quarter-length sleeves served to heighten and add to my already burgeoning inferiority complex. I swallowed hard. "I'm Lilly. How can I help you? Mr…"

  In three strides, he was at the bar. "Mahoney. Michael Mahoney. You don't mind if I ask you a few questions, do you?"

  Technically, he was asking, but the inflection in his voice left no misunderstanding: He was going to ask and fully expected me to answer. Other than on television, I'd never seen anyone associated with the mob before. This guy fit all the stereotypes. He probably had an Uzi inside of his jacket. Have I mentioned how much I missed Hope?

  As Mandi would say, time to put my big-girl panties on and handle business. I shrugged as I started to wipe the bar down. Calm, cool, and collected. Just another day. "Ask away."

  "My sources tell me that Donald Giovanni visited your place of business the night he died."

  I waited. He hadn't asked a question yet. My attorney, though not dressed as impeccably as Mr. Mahoney here, had taught me when being interrogated to never volunteer information. Mr. Mahoney might not be the police, but this fit all the requirements for an interrogation as far as I was concerned.

  "Well?"

  "Well what?" If he did have an Uzi, my smart mouth might just add designer bullet holes to my new blouse.

  "Did he?"

  "Yes." Never volunteer and never answer more than the question they asked. I was going to have to treat Attorney Pohoke and his wife to dinner again soon as a thank
-you for all the valuable lessons he'd taught me.

  His brows knitted together and his focus narrowed. "Are you deliberately trying to be evasive?"

  Maybe a little. Time to switch tactics. The thought occurred to me he might also have information that would help my own investigation and move suspicion away from my mother. If I could prove this was mob related, that would get her off the hook or at least out of the middle of the target. Especially since I was running out of time before I had to go to the police station. Though technically Harmony had provided me with an alibi by assuring me she'd went straight to the Ocean View B&B when she left the tavern Friday night. I just needed to find someone to corroborate her story.

  I offered my best smile, sweet as honey straight from the honeycomb. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners? Can I get you something to eat or drink first?"

  "You know how to make a Bloody Mary?"

  Did I detect a slight softening from the man in black? "I sure do. When I lived in New Orleans, besides Hurricanes, I could whip up a mean Bayou Bloody Mary. Sadly, crawfish isn't something they keep on hand here. Name your poison, and I'll see what I can do. We also have our DC Dirty Martini on special right now."

  He brightened at the mention of the Dirty Martini, but not for the reason I thought. "Does that mean you can make a Bloody Bulldog?"

  My grin widened. "You bet I can."

  He watched as I mixed the ingredients and finished, last but not least, with the Worcestershire sauce into the glass of ice. Once I stirred all the ingredients until they were combined, I added a stalk of celery, olives speared through with our traditional black sword, and then looked to him. "Anything else?"

  Michael grinned. His visage not nearly as menacing when he smiled. "A dill pickle."

  Wouldn't be something I'd add to this mix, but the customer was always right. "You are a brave man. A dill pickle spear it is." After adding the final touch, I handed him the drink and waited while he took his first taste.

  "You whip up a pretty mean Bloody Bulldog, too. Nicely done, Lilly."

  Ah, now he went and made me blush. My nervousness being around someone who worked for the mob might factor into the redness on my cheeks as well. Mandi and Tanner bustled through the door from the kitchen. Oh sure, where were they when I feared having my memory wiped or seeing my first automatic weapon up close and personal?

  "Sorry, Lilly, we were helping prep some of the food and didn't realize anyone had come in. Why didn't you call?" Mandi asked as she slid on her apron and started double-checking her tables.

  "It's all good. Only customer was Mr. Mahoney here. He and I were just getting to know each other."

  Thankfully she was behind Michael, since her eyes widened to saucers as she realized exactly who I'd had to entertain all by myself. That was right, I took on a possible arms-toting attorney and lived to tell about it.

  "Okay, well, let me know if you need anything. Tanner and I will be right here." She stressed the word here to let me know they planned on staying close by.

  At her statement, Michael leaned in and arched an eyebrow. I wouldn't swear to it, but there might have been a slight uptick on at least one side of his mouth. "She knows who I am, doesn't she?"

  I nodded. "Yes, she does. Since I do too, might I ask you a question or two?" Now see, my tone indicated I really was asking. We might have had a temporary thawing of the ice between us thanks to a cocktail, but the potential for a hidden gun had not been dismissed completely.

  He leaned back in the chair and sipped his drink. "If I answer, I'll expect you to be a little more forthcoming when I return to my questions. Are we in agreement?"

  "Agreed."

  "What do you want to know?"

  I pulled half of my bottom lip between my teeth. It was a nervous habit. One I'd been working on but not conquered yet. No guts, no glory, right? Just hoped by the time my questions had been asked, I'd still have all my guts—inside me. "Why are you here?"

  He chuckled. "Direct. I like that. Best way to get information, isn't it?"

  "Without a doubt." My edit function worked properly and kept me from mentioning that his employer probably had developed slightly more heinous ways to extract information. No point in bringing that up when he was being so amicable.

  "I'm here to ensure the investigation into Donald's death is handled properly. It is imperative the guilty party be brought to justice. Now my turn. Did you witness anyone have an altercation with Donald?"

  Now see, it hadn't been my intention to swap off questions. I'd much rather do all the asking. You know…get some momentum going. "From what I've learned, several members of the band had it in for Donny Z, including their newest member, Liza Bender." Her, I had no problem serving up on a silver platter.

  At the mention of her name, the warm chocolate of his eyes darkened to obsidian, but he offered no information. Maybe if I shared a little more, he'd open up. "I only met Liza last night, but she reminds me of what I imagine my mother must've been like at that age. Kind of a rebel without a cause…or maybe rock and roll was her cause. I'm not sure, as we weren't close."

  He paused for a moment, possibly weighing whether he could or should share information with me. Finally, he spoke. "She's trouble with a capital T."

  No argument from me on that point. "What's her story?" I was thankful the crowd was thin this morning and I could focus my attention on him. Maybe church was running late as people were being extra thankful today, or there could be a potluck. Who knew.

  "Suffice it to say, she ran into trouble in her early teens with my employer."

  I waited, but he didn't elaborate. Someone should help him understand what a story is. The length of information he provided me about Liza wouldn't even qualify as a novella. I didn't know much about the mob. I knew even less about the Giovanni family. I'd need to ask Mandi. She knew a little bit about everything. At least everything I'd ever asked her about.

  Wouldn't hurt to go on a little fishing expedition. Worse that could happen is he wouldn't answer. Or he could riddle me with bullet holes. That would qualify as worse. "What kind of trouble? I thought…"

  My bottom lip got chewed on again.

  He noticed. "What?"

  My face heated. "Maybe I watched too much television when I was younger, but I'm surprised your employer would allow her to just walk away if she was in trouble with them."

  "You're right."

  "About?" I could take lessons in evasiveness from this man.

  "You watch too much television."

  There were at least a million questions I wanted to ask but didn't want to press my luck. In my mind, trouble with the Giovanni family meant Liza could have motive. She was close enough to Donny to have opportunity. Not knowing specifically what the murder weapon was, I couldn't be sure about the means part of the equation. "Thanks for sharing what you could. To answer your question, Donny and the band came in about an hour or so before closing. They had a round of drinks while everyone was introduced. They left a short time later. For what it's worth, I did hear someone arguing out back while I was on a short break. It was a man and a woman, but I couldn't make out the voices well enough to know who."

  "Could you hear what they were saying?"

  I shook my head. "No. I tried to move closer to hear, but they called me back in. Once that happened, the people hurried off, by the sounds of retreating footsteps. Sorry." And I really was. Maybe if I'd been able to hear, I would've known who had an altercation with him after the one he had with my mother and Abe. Assuming the argument I overheard wasn't my mother and Donny arguing again—that wouldn't help her case at all.

  He picked up a menu. "Thanks for letting me know. I may have more questions later."

  I refrained from adding that he'd have to do a better job answering my questions if he wanted more information from me. A moment later, Freddie crashed through the front door. "So sorry, Lilly. I was out late with Liza."

  At Freddie's voice, Michael turned around, and their gazes met initiating a cos
mic pause button requiring time to stand still.

  Freddie stopped cold in his tracks. "What the hell is he doing here?"

  CHAPTER NINE

  Before I could explain, Freddie turned on his heels and made a quick dash for the door. "I need a personal day. See you Tuesday. Sorry."

  The door slammed and at least four sets of eyes stared at the dark doors.

  "What was that all about?" Mandi was the first to find her voice.

  "I don't have a clue." I chanced a look at Michael. He was gulping the rest of his cocktail.

  He pushed the empty glass toward me. "I'll have another, along with one of those turkey sandwiches and sweet potato fries. Probably as close as I'll come to a Thanksgiving meal this year."

  Guess we were going to ignore Mandi's question for now. "Sure thing." I entered the food order and set about making his drink. Tanner and Mandi, along with the few patrons, had decided to ignore the awkward tension hanging in the air since Freddie's abrupt entrance and departure.

  After several slow sips of his drink, Michael rubbed his temples. "Freddie is my son."

  Never in a million years would that have been my guess, though when I studied him closer with that frame of reference, they had the same dark eyes and hair. Even the arching of their eyebrow had some similarities. I rinsed out his first glass. "Take it the relationship is a little rocky?"

  He exhaled a long breath. "Hard to be rocky when there isn't really a relationship. I haven't been a part of his life, other than sending support checks to his mother."

  His admission fired my temper, and the glass met the rack a little harder than I intended. "I know rock and roll and parenting don't mix. Never thought of the legal profession being one that excluded children as well." Made me wonder if Brock and Harmony had sent support checks to Gram. We'd lived a simple life, but my needs and even most of my wants were provided. I'd never given much thought to where the money we lived on came from. The wealth of my grandfather's family was no secret. I just assumed he'd somehow provided for her…for us. Maybe I was wrong.