Dead Wrong

by J. M. Griffin

“Nah…. Well, maybe.” He laughed.

  The car slowed and we turned into the driveway of a massive Victorian home. Gingerbread trim laced the eaves of the roof and a wide porch wrapped around the front and side of the house. Enormous windows sparkled in the sunlight. Tailored flower beds lay alongside the porch and were sprinkled over various areas of the lawn. The look was elegant and screamed expensive. I thought of my minimalist flower beds with a sigh.

  We left the car and strolled onto the porch, passing clusters of mums in burnished gold, deep burgundy, mustard yellow, and burnt orange. Other plants were mixed in with the mums, but I couldn’t identify them.

  The smell of salt water filtered through the cool breeze as we rounded the corner of the house. Stickney Point Road sits near the Atlantic Ocean. I swore I could hear the surf – but it was only my imagination.

  The door swung wide. I found myself facing Ima Gozinta. She flung herself out the door onto Marcus. A wide grin covered her face before she stepped back from embracing him and faced me with a nod. Glancing back at Marcus, she smiled.

  “Hi, come in. Mom and your father are waiting for you.”

  Flabbergasted, I glanced at Marcus and saw a wicked smile creep across his face.

  “This is so unfair,” I mumbled to him. “You will pay dearly. I promise.”

  “You think so? I can hardly wait.” He chuckled under his breath as I followed him through the door.

  The living room was large with a sweeping view of the lawns and street. A magnificent fireplace centered one wall with antique furniture strategically placed throughout the room. Interlaced with leather chairs and a sofa, everything was complementary and the overall look pleased my eye.

  My breath caught in my throat when I saw an older gentleman enter the room. He was a grey-haired duplicate of Marcus. His stride suggested a military man. I wondered if the trooper thing was a family tradition. A genuine smile covered his face as the two men shook hands.

  “Dad, I’d like you to meet Lavinia Esposito. This is my father, Bradley Richmond.” He motioned to me, and I stepped forward.

  Green eyes – no hazel in them – surveyed my entire person as he shook my hand.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, my dear,” he said. “My wife will be in momentarily. Please, have a seat. It seems you present my son with a challenge. It’s about time someone did.” He chuckled softly and then glanced at Marcus.

  I smiled, nodded and my flip-flopping stomach tied itself in a knot as I settled on the leather sofa. After answering the usual questions about what I did for a living and where I lived, I listened to the men chat while I gazed around the room. Photographs of Marcus as he’d grown up, adorned the antique desk nearby. His grin was the same, even though he was very young when he exuberantly held up a fish he’d caught. His father stood next to him with the proud-father look on his face. Another photo caught my eye. The man was taller, leaner, and in uniform. The smile was the same, but the features weren’t as similar as those of Marcus and Bradley. Curious, I asked who the man was.

  “That’s my older brother, Austin. He’s a Massachusetts State Trooper.” Marcus stared at the photo and then smiled at me. “He resembles our mother more than I do.”

  I just nodded and glanced around the room again.

  Footsteps on the shiny wood floors brought my gaze toward the doorway Bradley had just entered. A pretty woman, in her early forties I’d guess, entered the room carrying a tray laden with muffins and breads and a silver coffee service. My God, she’s the stepmother?

  Introductions rounded the room once again and I noticed Marcus become reserved. His outgoing, friendly demeanor went on hold until Gozinta entered the room. He smiled at the young woman and she beamed. Good God, I thought, she’s enamored with him and he probably doesn’t even know it. Men are so stupid sometimes.

  When Belinda offered a tour of the house, I nodded acceptance. We started in the formal dining room and made our way around the entire place. Within half an hour, I’d seen more than I wanted to and couldn’t wait to leave. Harriet Homemaker, I am not, and while I enjoyed the design of the place, I wasn’t thrilled with this grand dame tour. How did I get into these situations?

  It was easy to see Belinda enjoyed playing Lady of the Manor. Gozinta, her daughter, had stayed behind with the men. Or with Marcus, I should say. Not that I was jealous or anything. When we reached Ima’s bedroom, I noticed her uniform suspended from the door and turned to Belinda.

  “Does it bother you that Ima is a trooper?”

  “Not at all. Marcus makes sure she’s safe and besides, it is a family tradition. Bradley was a major, you know.”

  How she could be foolish enough to believe that Marcus could keep this young woman safe, caused me to stop and think of how naïve Marcus’s stepmother really was. Another brainless wonder. Arm candy. Window dressing – that’s what this woman was. There had to be twenty years between her and Bradley. It answered my question about Marcus’s remark concerning his father’s choice in women.

  Belinda explained to me that she and Bradley had met at a tennis tournament. I wondered if the man had been married at the time. Troopers are chick magnets and they sometimes think philandering fits into their job description. Hence my reasons for not dating law enforcement men – until now that is.

  I listened to her ramble on and on until I could take no more information on their glorious life together. With a surreptitious glance at my watch, I moved toward the door where she joined me.

  We entered the living room. Ima stood up. She’d snuggled down next to Marcus and nearly jumped from the seat as I wandered over. My attitude must have been showing. In an effort to be polite, I smiled and sat next to Marcus as Ima took the chair across from me.

  “How long have you been a trooper?” I asked.

  “I finished the Academy last year. It was rigorous, but well worth it.” She smiled and glanced at Marcus.

  Her hair was unbound, something that is never seen in female troopers when they’re on duty. They usually keep it braided or short to the scalp, in a butch sort of way. Regulations ran through my mind as I stared at the young woman before me. She wasn’t bad looking and had a nice smile. Not the Julia Roberts smile like Lola, but a pleasant one nonetheless. Her wiry frame held no body fat and toned arms peeked out from the short sleeve jersey she wore. I decided then and there that Ima Gozinta had a bad case of hero worship going on.

  We left the house with an open invitation to return and headed back to Cranston. As we neared the neighborhood where I grew up, the small homes stood neat and clean along the streets. Nothing ostentatious about this area, but good families and friends lived here. No keeping up with the rich. Simple, hard-working, everyday folks with everyday problems.

  “So where do you live?” I asked, unable to curb my curious mind for another moment.

  “Not far from here. Remember the first time I stopped in when I was investigating the stolen gem case?”

  “Yeah. I remember.”

  “I was coming from my house a few streets over and saw your car. I figured it was a good opportunity to see you again.”

  “You said you’d called my house. Was that a lie?”

  “No. I had called but you were here, so I stopped in.”

  The car rolled into the tiny driveway and stopped. Marcus leaned toward me and planted a kiss on my cheek.

  Chapter 13

  Italian cooking brought my sense of smell to attention as we stepped onto the small deck in the petite yard. My father was at it again, and my mouth began to water. I no sooner opened the door than my cell phone jingled. Digging deep into my handbag, I held the small unit to my ear.

  Motioning Marcus to go inside, I answered the call and stood on the deck while the wind tossed my hair and brutally whipped my jacket around my body. Anderson said he had heard from the medical insurance company and that my bills were astounding.
He asked me to stop by when I could, and I agreed. I mentioned that I thought I’d seen Crisp the night before.

  “You saw her in Cranston and didn’t call me?” he asked.

  “I couldn’t swear it was her, but I thought this person held a strong resemblance to Crisp.” A poor and lame excuse, but I wouldn’t get into the rest of the reason for not calling. After all, my love life was nobody’s business, right?

  I disconnected, after Anderson whined about my excuse, and went into the house. Giovanni and Marcus were deep in conversation, and my mother stood at the counter drinking wine, beaming like any proud mother would. She smiled at me and handed over a glass of Merlot. I sipped it as I wandered toward the stove. Lifting the pan lid, I sniffed the Chicken Cacciatore aroma as it wafted up. This was the good life.

  As I turned, I caught Richmond staring at me. He smirked and I wiped my chin lest drool had wandered from my mouth. He chuckled and returned to converse with Gio.

  My father entered the room as I set the lid back on the pan. He knew I always appreciated his cooking and he smiled at me.

  “Did you make this for a special occasion, Dad?”

  “I figured you would be here, as is Gio – so why not? How are you doing after finding that dead body this week?”

  It occurred to me that my name had been on the news again. I wondered if my father was about to rant on and on about my lifestyle, and I took a deep breath.

  “It was nauseating to say the least. Never found a dead person before, especially one in that condition.”

  “Have the cops found any clues as to who did the killing?” he asked, his eyes dark and piercing.

  “Not yet. At least, they haven’t mentioned it,” I said.

  “You’re not planning to become involved with this investigation are you, Lavinia?” The deep voice held a warning as he stirred the pasta.

  Here it comes.

  “No, I’m not. Murder is a nasty business and I’d rather stay as far away as I can.”

  The room had become silent. I knew I was the center of attention. Dang. I glanced around at everyone and said, “What?”

  Smirks appeared at the question. I smiled to reassure everyone that I’d almost spoken the truth. Only Marcus realized I was lying, but then he had that super-trooper sense and could tell when anyone lied. “Big hats” – the name city cops use for troopers since they wear rigid campaign hats – were well trained in the art of observation and detection.

  Dinner with my family was way different than breakfast with the Richmonds. Gina and Cara strolled through the door halfway through the meal. Amazed at their identical looks, Marcus sat and stared at them. The noise level in the house had heightened to a grand scale as we all spoke at once, yelling over each other to be heard. Marcus observed our behavior in silence. He definitely wasn’t Italian.

  The twins and I talked and laughed together after we cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. Marcus watched the three of us. I could see the wheels turn in his head. His thoughts were almost transparent. The twins, and Gio and I, looked so much alike it was uncanny. He grinned when I smiled at him. I caught Cara checking him out and gave her an elbow in the ribs. She laughed and poked me back.

  My mother brought out dessert and my stomach ached at the thought that I’d not left enough room for it.

  Peach Cobbler with real whipped cream filled dessert plates. I stared at mine and unbuttoned my jeans. A chuckle rounded the table and I joined in.

  “Vin, how sick were you after you found the dead guy?” Gina asked as she licked cream from her lips.

  “Very sick. You know, I don’t do blood well and there was a lot of it. It smelled, too.” I wrinkled my nose.

  My father glanced at me and then said to Marcus, “Are you involved with this or is it just the cops?”

  “The city boys are handling the investigation into the two deaths,” he said. “We have no jurisdiction over it at the present time.”

  “Two deaths? I thought Lavinia was involved with only one dead guy.” Dad’s dark eyed stare swung toward me and I shrugged.

  “The other man was found in the river, shot in the same manner. He was the doctor that Vinnie had initially seen.” Marcus glanced at me and then back to my father.

  Staring at me, Gina and Cara gasped. I leaned back in the chair, ready for the oncoming interrogation. It would do no good to deny anything at this juncture, but Marcus would pay for his inability to keep his trap shut.

  “So you went to this quack, Lavinia, and he was murdered, too?” My father asked, his voice boomed around the room.

  “You make it sound as though he got killed because I went to him. I can assure you that’s not why he was murdered, Dad.”

  He sat back, both hands on the edge of the table. His dark, flat eyes glared at me and I felt the onset of Gino Esposito’s wrath about to descend upon me. Oh yeah, Marcus would pay.

  “It was Gina and Cara’s fault, Dad. They insisted on taking me to that clinic when I had the accident.”

  Indrawn breath from the twins was the only sound in the room.

  “You rat.” Gina muttered under her breath. Cara nodded in agreement.

  “I would have been happy to go to the ER, but oh no, Gina took me to the clinic near her place of employment. Wide, dark eyes glared at me from Gina’s face. They narrowed until they almost closed and then she turned toward my father with an innocent look. An Academy Award winning performance was coming.

  “Uncle,” she said in a sweet, soft voice. “I took her there on the advice of the person who’d caused the accident. I didn’t even know that particular ER was in my own neighborhood. Honest.”

  A nod from my father meant he understood and forgave Gina for her mistake. I, on the other hand, wouldn’t fare that well, I was certain of it. When his glance roamed the table and landed on me, I knew I was right.

  “Your brother is a doctor. You should have known this guy was an idiot,” he accused.

  “How does Saint Doctor Giovanni have anything to do with my medical needs? You’re not making any sense. Just because he’s a physician, doesn’t mean I know anything about medicine,” I said through tight lips.

  “That’s right, you wouldn’t,” my brother interjected to cool things down.

  “Stay out of this,” my father and I said at once.

  “You’re right. I apologize, Lavinia. It was unfair of me to accuse you of medical stupidity,” my father said.

  The apology would have been fine had he not added the stupidity part. First Marcus had accused me of acting stupid and now my father had doubled the insult. For Chrissake, couldn’t I suffer an injury correctly?

  “Are you calling me stupid?” I asked with narrowed eyes.

  “No. I’m just sayin’ that you could have acted in a wiser manner.”

  Not thinking, I reached for a peach slice hanging precariously off the rim of the dessert platter. I picked it up and received a rap on the knuckles for my poor manners.

  Gina and Cara smothered their laughter, but Giovanni guffawed out loud. Marcus smirked and I ate the peach and licked my fingers.

  “Whatever, Dad,” I said. “Next time I get injured, I’ll make sure that I call you for approval before I get medical attention.”

  A sharp glance from my father said I had overstepped the head-butting boundaries. I knew I’d been rude and offensive. However, my feelings were hurt and I didn’t care if I’d been a smart mouth.

  Chairs pushed away from the table and everyone busied themselves with anything they could think of. Alone, my father and I faced one another. He waited and so did I. There would be no apology forthcoming from either one of us, I was sure.

  The twins, Gio, and Marcus went outside on the deck. My mother cleared the table without a word. The silence lengthened until my cell phone jingled. I whipped it from my purse with relief and answered the caller.


  “Hi Porter, what’s up?” I asked and rose from the chair.

  “I need you to come down to the station, now.” He was all business. I knew something had happened. Something I probably wouldn’t like.

  “Sure, I’ll be right there. Give me ten minutes, okay?” I said.

  “I’ll see you then.” The phone went dead. I stared into space for a second, wondering what the hell I was in for now.

  My mother made a goody bag and handed it to me as I donned my jacket. I thanked her, said goodbye to my parents and left the house. On the deck, I watched Gina smoke a cigarette and Cara nag her for it. Marcus stood nearby speaking with Giovanni about fishing. I didn’t know he liked to fish. The man had continually surprised me today.

  “I need a ride to the PPD. Can you take me?” I asked Marcus.

  “Sure. I don’t have to be to work until nine tonight. You’ll be done before then, right?”

  The sleeve of my jacket rolled back as I peered at my watch. It was after five and I figured I wouldn’t be at PPD headquarters for more than a few minutes. Little did I know.

  I nodded, then kissed and hugged everyone before we left. It’s an Italian thing, but Marcus seemed to like it, especially when Cara lip-locked him a good one. He shook my brother’s hand and said he’d see him again before Gio returned to Nebraska.

  In the car, we were both quiet for a few moments until Marcus glanced at me. “What’s going on?”

  “I have no clue. Anderson said he needed to see me at headquarters right away.” I tapped my teeth with my fingernails. “I hope it’s not to view another dead body. I’ve had all of that I can stand.”

  “You’ve had to view more than one body? You never mentioned it.” His brows rose and I explained about the Crisp look-alike.

  “That’s just great. Every time they have a stiff, they’re gonna call you to take a look?” Annoyance layered his usually calm, rich voice. At least it was calm until I did something to get under his skin.

  “Don’t start. It’s my civic duty to help out when I can.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s your avid curiosity that keeps you mixed up in affairs you’re better off without. How do you manage to get involved in these things, Lavinia?”