by Mary Ellis
‘Exactly how long is “by and by”?’ he asked. ‘And I told you, Jill doesn’t drink.’ Eric refocused on the driveway.
‘You both need to learn patience. Last night she had been waiting for you until I sent her to bed.’ Nonni examined the bottle of vintage Bordeaux. ‘What about Welch’s grape juice mixed with club soda? Do you think Jill would like that?’
‘I have no idea. What are you up to, Nonni?’
The diminutive woman put her hands on her hips. ‘Taking charge of your life. For such a big, strong man, you have the courage of a field mouse.’ Nonni picked up the bottle and wine glasses and marched back to the kitchen. Although the room was in a state of chaos, she had ordered a new refrigerator to be delivered before anything else.
Eric smiled. As much as it pained him to say, his grandmother was right. Although he dealt with contractors and vendors with professional acumen, and had no trouble standing up to his peers, when it came to certain women, he did have the courage of a rodent.
However, when the object of his affection squealed to a stop in her usual spot, Eric decided to prove the eighty-five-year-old woman wrong. Jill Wyatt bounded out of her car and crossed the courtyard with far too much energy for the late hour.
‘Eric, what are you doing out here?’ she asked, tucking her long hair behind one ear.
‘Waiting for you. Apparently we just missed each other last night.’ He leaned back in the wrought-iron chair.
‘Where’s your grandmother? I’m surprised she’s not out here.’
‘She just was. And trust me, she’ll be back. Join me.’ Eric pulled out a chair.
‘The courtyard is Nonni’s domain.’ Jill sat down opposite him. ‘I have news on your father’s case. That’s why I had hoped to catch you last night. Today I was at the University Medical Center.’
‘From the expression on your face, I take it your missing person has been found.’
‘Not only found, but the biological sister has agreed to be tested to see if she’s a match. If she is, Emma is also willing to be an organ donor.’ Jill’s smile lit her face with a near-angelic radiance.
Eric couldn’t stop staring at her. ‘I’m impressed. You’ve more than done your job. When do you get the results?’
‘Hopefully tomorrow, so I checked Emma and her family into a hotel only ten minutes away from the hospital and then stayed for pizza with them. My clients are paying for the suite. Emma also had a battery of pre-op tests on the assumption she’s compatible. Time-wise, we’re down to the wire for Mrs Sugarman. I’m going on and on, but this isn’t why you were waiting for me.’ Jill blushed in the moonlight.
‘Actually, I was curious about your case. I know how—’
‘My, don’t you two look thirsty,’ interrupted Nonni. She shuffled across the flagstones carrying a pitcher and two flutes. ‘This is no night for iced tea, so I brought grape and pomegranate juice mixed with club soda. It’s delicious, if I do say so myself.’ She poured two flutes to the rim.
Jill picked up one and drank it down. ‘Was I supposed to sip it? I am so parched.’
‘We’ll sip the second one.’ Eric drank his and refilled their glasses. ‘Thank you, Nonni, but we don’t want to keep you from your rest.’
His grandmother picked up her tray. ‘Goodnight, Jill. Goodnight, my favorite mouse.’
To Jill’s bemused expression, he explained, ‘I used to like Mickey Mouse as a child. Nonni doesn’t forget a thing.’
‘OK, time for an update on your father.’ Jill took a sip of the fresh glass.
‘Yesterday the judge released him after I paid a ten per cent bond. I took Alfonzo to our favorite fishing spots when I was a child and finally got some answers. Not about who might have killed Mr Borelli, but something from the past I’d been curious about.’ Eric shifted in his chair, reluctant to reveal the details of his parents’ tawdry past.
‘I might be able to shed light on your father’s case.’ Jill pulled a photograph from her purse. ‘I obtained this from the Charleston PD. It’s a still-frame from a security video of the alley, taken the night someone overturned the dumpster. Do you recognize this young man?’
Eric plucked the photo from her fingers and studied it for several moments. ‘How very sad.’
‘You know him?’ Jill’s voice brimmed with excitement.
‘Unfortunately, I do. How I hoped this had been neighborhood punks.’ He handed back the photo. ‘That’s Dominic Borelli, Salvatore’s youngest son. The other man must be one of Dom’s cronies. This won’t get my father off the hook. It’s just additional proof of their escalating feud.’
Jill’s enthusiasm drained from her face. ‘I see your point. Homicide might think your dad was retaliating after a long string of Borelli assaults. But maybe the DA will reduce the charges to manslaughter if Alfonzo was trying to defend himself.’
Eric shook his head. ‘My dad didn’t kill Mr Borelli. If he had, he would simply say so and accept the repercussions. That’s just how he is.’
‘Sorry, I was trying to put a positive spin on the situation, not imply I doubted his innocence.’
‘I know, but if you really want me to feel better, agree to have dinner with me on Friday.’
Color rushed into Jill’s cheeks. ‘As in a date?’
‘Not exactly, I want you to come to my sister’s house for my father’s second homecoming. We can’t have it here since the carpenters started working on the kitchen.’
‘Your family sure loves to throw parties, no matter what the circumstances.’
Eric arched an eyebrow. ‘I must not be explaining myself properly. This won’t be a party. Only the immediate family and you – our recently hired private investigator. Believe me. We’re taking Dad’s arrest very seriously. I want him to know at least you’re looking at other suspects, even if the police aren’t.’
‘In that case, I will be there. Jot down Bernie’s address and the time she serves dinner. In the meantime I’d better get caught up with emails. I don’t want my boss thinking I’m on vacation on his dime.’ She drained her flute of juice and offered a lopsided smile.
‘Just for the record, what’s so ridiculous about me asking you out? That’s what single people do – they go out for dinner to see if they have anything in common. No strings attached.’
‘Nothing, I suppose. The question just caught me by surprise. Don’t get your hackles up, Manfredi.’ She pushed in her chair and headed for the door.
Leaning back, Eric closed his eyes. Once again, his reaction was an overreaction. Why did he always assume the worst about women? He was so worried about being prejudged he beat people to the punch.
Last night Jill was so tired after meddling in the Norrises’ lives she hadn’t spent a single minute trying to figure out her landlord. She seemed to offend him on a regular basis. It didn’t help that she found Eric attractive, but her skittish and juvenile behavior had to stop. She had enough on her plate without adding a confusing man with hidden agendas.
At least the text from Dr Costa’s medical assistant gave her someplace to go after her breakfast of cereal and milk. Please meet Mr and Mr Norris at their hotel suite in North Charleston. Ralph wishes to speak to you before he heads home with the children to tend livestock.
A place to go … yes, but if Ralph Norris wanted to speak to her, it couldn’t possibly be good. Jill’s stress shot up to high-alert. But when she arrived at the Norrises’ suite, Emma greeted her as though an old friend. ‘Good morning, Jill. I hope you haven’t eaten yet. I made sausage biscuits.’
Jill glanced at the array of food on the kitchen counter. ‘You cooked an entire meal in a hotel room?’
‘I had to buy biscuits since there’re no baking pans here, but the gravy is homemade. Grab a plate. We’re about ready to eat and there’s plenty.’
Despite the fact she’d eaten her requisite three hundred calories of cereal, Jill took a small helping. During breakfast she tried to avoid eye contact with Ralph, but it was all but impossible
in the small dining room. Unlike Charlotte’s outgoing children, the Norris kids didn’t speak until spoken to first. They answered Jill’s queries about pets and farm animals with brief, to-the-point answers.
Midway through the meal, Ralph put an end to their chatter altogether. ‘You two take your plates to the living room. Find some of those cartoons like you watched yesterday at the hospital. Your mama and I need to speak to Miss Wyatt in private.’
Jill’s toes went numb. Then she remembered her adoptive father’s advice long ago: The best defense is a good offense. ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you too, Mr Norris. If you don’t mind I’d like to go first.’ When no one objected, Jill forged ahead. ‘I wish to apologize for butting my nose into your life. A PI isn’t paid to meddle, only to track down missing persons and let them know the situation. I had no right talking you into something, Emma.’ Jill stole a glance at her.
‘How could you not butt your nose in when a woman’s life was at stake?’ Emma asked. ‘Don’t apologize for wanting to help Charlotte.’
‘I agree,’ said Ralph. ‘That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I’ve been selfish, concerned only with my family. That’s not how a Christian is supposed to act. If Emma wants to go ahead with the transplant, I’m proud of her decision.’
Emma placed her hand over Ralph’s and squeezed. The woman could be the poster child for the word serenity. ‘As I told Charlotte, I’ll take the antibiotics afterwards to prevent infection. So please don’t worry.’
‘Bacteria aren’t the only problem. There are plenty of things that could go wrong, even if you accept medical intervention. Either of you or both could die during surgery, no matter how your church prays or how strong your faith.’ Jill felt her palms begin to sweat.
‘And if it’s God’s will that we die, then so be it.’ Emma’s tone matched Jill’s in intensity. ‘This life is simply a dress rehearsal for the one to come. You should concern yourself more with your lack of faith than my over-abundance.’
Jill blinked. ‘You know nothing about my personal religious convictions.’
‘That’s true,’ Emma agreed. ‘But whatever your beliefs, you sit on the fence, afraid to jump in. Get your feet wet. Faith is the only thing that can take that fear away.’
Jill wanted to argue, to insist she didn’t walk around being afraid. But when she opened her mouth, she couldn’t utter a single word.
Emma patted her hand. ‘Since Ralph needs to tend critters for a couple hours, could you drive me to the hospital? Brenda wants me there in thirty minutes.’
Jill jumped to her feet. ‘Of course I can. But I thought they finished your pre-op tests yesterday.’
‘They did, but Dr Costa wants me prepped for surgery. The lab called and I’m a perfect match to Charlotte.’ Emma started stacking the plates. ‘It’s time to get this show on the road and I want you with me until Ralph gets back.’
Jill carried the stack of plates to the sink. ‘You go get ready. Dishes I can handle.’
FIFTEEN
Eric had forgotten how satisfying it was to work with your hands. When one of the laborers from the construction crew called in sick, Eric volunteered to carry lumber, hold sheets of drywall in place, and tote the endless scraps of wood. This had been his most productive day since the restaurant caught fire and put them out of business. Some might describe cooking as physical labor, but not him. His job was more of a fine-tuned juggling act – making each dish specifically to the customer’s wishes and then seeing that every meal for a table was done at the same time. Some diners couldn’t have shellfish, while another was allergic to dairy products. A chef had to be not only creative, but patient when someone requested such travesties as fat-free cheese, low-cal Alfredo sauce, or cioppino made without fish.
Today while the experienced carpenters measured and cut, planed and sanded, stained and sealed to specific blueprints, Eric was able to lose himself in mindless work. It gave him a chance to consider the wisdom of hiring Jill Wyatt. Hopefully her inexperience wouldn’t put his father in jail for the rest of his life. But just like he knew his father could never kill anyone, he needed to have the same faith in Jill. And he also needed a better way to make his feelings known.
When the electricians began rolling up their power cords and the carpenters dropped their electric hammers into the job box, Eric approached the general contractor. ‘Same time, same place tomorrow?’ he asked.
‘Sorry, Mr Manfredi. You did great today, but my laborer texted that he’ll be back tomorrow. Besides, this is a union job and my guess is you don’t have a card.’
‘I suppose my membership in the International Association of Culinary Professionals won’t cut any slack here.’
The man laughed. ‘Nope, but I do plan to bring my wife here for dinner once we finish the project.’
‘Finish on schedule and your meal will be on the house.’
‘You’ve got yourself a deal.’
As Eric walked the contractor to his car, a middle-aged man in a suit and tie stepped out of a sedan. ‘Eric Manfredi?’ he asked.
‘Yes, sir, what can I help you with?’
‘I’m Lieutenant Schott of the Charleston Homicide Department. Could we talk for a minute, somewhere out of the sun?’ The cop fanned himself with a folder of papers.
‘Sure, but there’s no air-conditioning on inside. Why don’t we sit in the shade?’ Eric pointed to a table by the back door. ‘Would you like a cup of coffee? I just switched off the pot but it’s still warm.’
‘No thanks. I drank enough today to float an armada.’ Schott mopped his face with a handkerchief. Then he peered at the building permit stapled to a post. ‘I see repairs are underway after the fire. The State Marshal found no evidence of arson?’
Eric lifted an eyebrow. ‘Since the inspector found no evidence of an accelerant being used, he ruled the fire “accidental from undetermined origin.”’
‘And the insurance company will be forced to foot the bill.’ Schott smiled as though pleased about something.
‘Isn’t that why people pay insurance premiums? Believe me, I would have vastly preferred not having the fire at all. Although the building was insured, I carried no protection against loss of income while we’re closed.’ Unsure of what the detective was implying, Eric maintained a neutral expression.
‘Lesson learned, eh? But I’m not here about the fire.’ From the folder of papers Lieutenant Schott pulled the same photo Jill had shown him last night. ‘How well do you know this guy?’
‘Not very well. Dominic Borelli is quite a bit younger than me. Our grandparents were the best of friends. I believe the two grandmothers are still pals. Our parents were also friends, once upon a time.’
‘Then business got in the way, right?’
‘Something like that.’
‘I’m sure your Mississippi gumshoe told you he’s the punk who created havoc behind your restaurant.’ He pointed toward the privacy fence separating the courtyard from the alley.
‘She did. Apparently, the third Borelli son didn’t turn out well. I hope he’s not mixed up with drugs like so many young people today.’
Lieutenant Schott frowned, as though unhappy with Eric’s cavalier attitude. ‘Hard to believe competition over who makes the best spaghetti would cause someone to do this.’ The detective pulled out a second photo, this one taken at the hospital emergency room of Alfonzo Manfredi.
The battered, bloody sight of his father curled Eric’s hands into fists. ‘Did you find evidence that these are the same men who robbed my father? Other than a fondness for black clothing?’
‘The height and general build of them matches Mr Manfredi’s description.’
‘My father suffered a mild concussion. His description might not be reliable.’ Eric nudged the photo back into the folder.
‘I’m surprised you would defend Dominic. That young punk cost you several hundred dollars plus plenty of bad publicity. He might also be the one who broke in and set the fire.’
&nbs
p; Eric steeled his gaze at the cop. ‘Not jumping to conclusions isn’t the same as defending him. I had better never see Dominic in my back alley again, or I’ll teach that boy a lesson. As for the fire? My “Mississippi gumshoe” pointed out there was no forced entry. If the fire wasn’t accidental, it was set by someone who knew the security code. That rules out Dominic Manfredi.’
‘It’s amazing how information gets around these days.’ Schott crossed one leg over his knee. ‘Want to know my theory?’
‘Sure, then I’ll tell you mine.’
‘I think Alfonzo recognized Dominic the night he was mugged, but he didn’t say anything to the officer who took his statement. He was itching to even the score on his own. Then after a fire almost destroys his life’s work – whether started by this kid or a careless cigarette from the night cleaner – your father went to see Salvatore Borelli. They argued inside the restaurant. It carried over into the street and then your father settled the matter once and for all.’
‘You’ve made a big leap from malicious mischief to second-degree murder.’ Eric picked up the photo of Dominic. ‘Here’s my theory: It was all Dominic – the dumpster, the robbery, the fire, and then the shooting of Salvatore at close range. Thanks to their ongoing feud, my father became the perfect scapegoat for an angry son.’
The detective smirked. ‘You come up with that just now? How did the kid get your dad’s gun?’
‘He found it in the office drawer the night he came to start the fire. You know how information like security codes gets around these days.’ Eric glanced at his watch and pushed to his feet. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a ton of paperwork and change orders to review before the construction crew returns tomorrow.’
Picking up the folder, Schott lumbered to his feet. ‘Where is your father?’
‘I have no idea, probably at home in West Ashley. Somewhere still in the United States certainly. You made him surrender his passport.’
‘Just make sure you don’t drive him to the airport. If his bail is rescinded, I’d hate to arrest a funny guy like you for aiding and abetting a fugitive.’