“In that case, I’ll look into her activities at the senior center a bit further. Mom’s putting on a bake sale fundraiser this Saturday. It’ll be the perfect opportunity to check things out, talk to some of Iva’s acquaintances, and such.
I rose from the sofa and kissed Nonni on the cheek before slipping my boots on. At the front door, I slipped my jacket on, buttoning the first three buttons. As I left, I thanked Nonni for her input, and promised to keep her posted on my progress.
The car was cold again, leaving me to shiver on the drive home. The miles sped past until I finally entered the village. My house loomed on the left, and I parked in front of the garage with feelings of relief. It was good to be home.
Chapter 8
Within moments, I’d unlocked the apartment, flipped the lights on, and headed to the bedroom to change my clothes. Wearing sweatpants and sweatshirt, I wandered into the kitchen in my stockinged feet.
The stone cold soup sat in the glass container on the counter. Sliding it in the microwave, I set the timer and pulled two bowls and a plate from the cabinet above. I opened the cake dish and swiped a finger full of frosting into my mouth, the sweet taste of rich chocolate instantly dissolving on my tongue. I tossed chunks of Italian bread on a nearby plate.
There came a heavy thump on the backdoor. I raced into the hallway and peered through the glass. Marcus stood outside in street clothes, his back to the door as he glanced around. His breath frosty in the cold night air, he marched in when I opened the door.
“You didn’t ask who was knocking. Haven’t I taught you anything at all?” Marcus demanded with a sardonic tilt to his brow as he strode past me into the apartment.
“I peeked through the glass at the top of the door from the stairs. I knew it was you,” I answered. “Maybe I should have left you out there to chill for a while.”
The microwave shut off and the buzzer sounded. The soup was done and just in time, too.
A wide grin covered his face as Marcus watched me ladle the steaming broth loaded with vegetables and ditalini pasta into our bowls. Pulling the bread-laden plate closer, I plastered chunks of butter onto my bread and dipped it into the broth.
“You stopped at your mother’s house, huh?” Marcus asked and glanced toward the cake dish. “Is that homemade chocolate cake?”
With a nod, I slid the dish toward him. His smile widened as he swiped frosting from the cake the same way I had.
The companionable silence lasted a few minutes until Marcus set his spoon down and stared at me. He popped crusty bread into his mouth while I finished my soup.
He swallowed and asked, “Did you ask your mother to work for you?”
“I did. She starts on Monday. The girls will be relieved to have some help. She could have started sooner if she didn’t have a bake sale going on this Saturday.”
Eyes wide, Marcus asked, “At the senior center?”
“Yep, I’m helping her out, too. This way I can keep my eye on things. Kind of watch out for her, you know?”
A smirk turned into a snort as I stared at his expression. Humor laced with disbelief covered the chiseled features. I wondered if I was about to be lectured.
“You just want to be there to snoop around, and we both know it. Be careful, and don’t break into any locked rooms. It won’t be pretty if you get caught,” Marcus cautioned in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I would never break and enter,” I lied. “Well, not without good reason, anyway.” It was a half-truth, and that was better than no truth. In an effort to slow the road trip to hell, I’d modified the lie somewhat, and felt proud for doing so. Marcus didn’t see it in quite the same light.
Another snort turned to laughter as he stared at me.
“I suppose that answer was better than a barefaced lie, huh?” His chest heaved as he laughed.
“I guess so,” I agreed with a shrug and a smile. “This is a chance to help my mother, and I’m taking it. I spoke to Nonni tonight. She had a lot to say about Iva.”
“Like what?” he asked. His gaze curious.
I repeated Nonni’s story. Marcus listened with interest when I mentioned Gino Carochi’s name.
“Your grandmother dated Carochi? Now we know where your aunt Muffy gets her dating habits. Is Muffy still dating some mob character?”
“I’m not sure who Muffy’s involved with at the moment. I only saw her briefly this week, and that subject didn’t arise. Imagine Nonni dating a mobster? It doesn’t seem possible to me.” I giggled, and left out the fact that I’d met my family members in stealth mode at Iva’s apartment.
“It doesn’t seem possible because she’s old and she’s your grandmother. That’s the real issue here.” Marcus grinned.
“Mmm. I guess you’re right.”
His face somber, Marcus asked, “What have you found out about Mrs. Galumpky?”
“Nothing, yet. I’m going to check that out on Saturday. Maybe do some digging while I’m at the bake sale. Question the old folks to see what their thoughts are, that sort of thing.”
Marcus warned, “Just be careful. If Nonni’s right, and Iva had a dangerous secret about someone, she put herself in jeopardy, and you’ll find yourself in the same position.” Marcus stretched his hand toward me, pulled me around the counter and up against his body. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
This was a place I enjoyed. My hands lay against his chest where I could feel his heartbeat. The pace quickened as I moved closer and kissed him. Our tongues met and my pulse rate hiked. Suddenly, the room was way too warm.
As our kiss ended, I murmured a question against his lips concerning pajamas. He smiled, reached out to lock the door, and mentioned he wanted to show me his pajamas. I grinned, and we disappeared into the bedroom.
Sometime later, we lay in bed, nestled close under the coverlet. Marcus was happy and I was happy, too. Marcus rose, and slipped his briefs on before he sauntered into the kitchen.
With a mouthful of chocolate cake, Marcus asked if I wanted some. I answered no, slipped on a robe, and wandered toward the living room to turn on the fireplace. He joined me and we settled on the sofa in front of the TV. The news came on and we watched the weather forecast for the next few days, followed by the local news. Relieved that neither my mother nor I had made headlines for anything, I snuggled into the crook of Marcus’s arm.
“What was that sigh for?” he asked.
“Nothing, really,” I lied. It was a little white lie. Not some heinous lie, just a simple, tiny one. Surely, I wouldn’t burn in hell for that? I wondered as Marcus fiddled with a strand of my hair.
“If you keep that up, I’m going to have to jump your bones again, Trooper Richmond,” I muttered sleepily.
His chest shook as he laughed.
“Is that wishful thinking?” he asked. “Because if it is, we can cut to the chase right now, and take care of that.”
I glanced up as his eyebrows waggled. A chuckle escaped me and I snuggled further into his embrace.
The phone rang a second later. With a groan, I got up. There was a moment before I picked up the phone when I hoped it was a misguided caller. A wrong number dialed by an innocent person. My luck never changes, I should know better than to think it would.
It was Porter Anderson’s voice on the other end.
“Vin, can you come down to the station?”
“Porter?” I asked as my heart sank.
“Yes, you need to make an I.D. for us.”
Memories of the last series of identifications I’d made for Bellini and Porter Anderson shot through my mind. Dead bodies, disgustingly dead, had been paraded in front of me. I could say without a shadow of doubt it hadn’t appealed to me then, and it didn’t now. My knees weakened at the thought.
“Why me?” I asked in an effort to buy time, and get my thoughts together.
“We found a dead body near the senior center. I wondered if you could identify it. You’re familiar with most of the residents who live in the attached bui
lding, aren’t you?”
“Since there are about a hundred of them, no. I don’t even know half of them. Can’t this wait until morning? I’m beat,” I whined, and I knew it, but the memory of Marcus’s warm embrace lingered. I yearned to return to it.
“Sure, the body’s not going anywhere. Come down first thing tomorrow, before class if possible.”
“I’ll meet you at the coroner’s office around seven. Is that okay?”
“Fine. I’ll tell Bellini.”
As I placed the phone on the charger, I turned to see Marcus looking at me with narrowed eyes.
“It’s safe to say there’s a dead body for you to view before breakfast, am I right?”
“That was Porter. They found a body near the senior center. He didn’t say much else, but wondered if I’d take a look at it.”
A smirk on his face, Marcus remarked, “You get all the luck, Vin.”
“I know.” I grimaced at the thought of death before breakfast.
Snuggling into the warmth of Marcus’s arms, I settled in for the night. When I awoke later, the fire was still burning, the room had become toasty warm, and Marcus was still there.
“Did you have a good nap?” he asked with a smile.
“Yep, but I think it’s time for bed. Coming with me?” I asked with a grin.
“Absolutely, wild horses couldn’t tear me away.” He rose from the sofa and joined me under the down comforter, holding me close.
As we lay in the dark, I could feel Marcus breathing. His chest swelled gently each time he took a breath. I snuggled closer, absorbing the warmth of his body heat.
“What are you doing for dinner tomorrow night?” he whispered.
“Nothing, why?”
“I have the night off. Why don’t you come over to my place? I’ll do the cooking.”
Delighted, I tipped my face toward his as my little voice took over. It ranted on about the invitation as a precursor to commitment. I tried to shut off the voice, but it was insistent that I’d be making a terrible mistake.
“I know you like to cook,” I said. “As a matter of fact, you’re a darned good cook. It’s a date, then.” I smiled. “Do you clean house, as well?”
“No, I have a cleaning woman come in to care for the apartment.”
“What does this housecleaning person look like?” I demanded as I played my fingers over his muscled chest.
“She’s older than we are. She does housecleaning, so she’s available when her children get out of school every day. She has five kids that keep her quite busy.”
“Hmm, how did you meet her?” I was curious and maybe something else, too.
“She’s Jonah’s cousin. Remember him?”
I nodded.
With a swift change of subject, Marcus asked who I thought the dead body might be. In an effort to stave off the ordeal, I slid my hands all the way down his muscled body, and murmured that I had no idea.
With a sharp intake of breath, Marcus pulled me closer, raining kisses over my face, moving lower as he went. My heart raced as things became hot and heavy. Within moments, I’d lost what little common sense I had left.
Chapter 9
Morning light streamed through the drapes in my bedroom. The smell of perked coffee emanated from the kitchen. I was alone in bed. In a flash I was up, donned a robe, and dragged myself into the kitchen. Marcus sat at the counter, dressed and looking neat with a smile on his face when he saw me stagger into the room. I was sure my appearance was anything but neat. I waggled my fingertips as I headed for the bathroom.
The mirror reflected long, wild curls that wrestled for space around my face. Mascara sloped under my eyes and my mouth tasted horrible. Loading a toothbrush with paste, I scrubbed my teeth, rinsed my mouth, and combed my hair. Now, I could have coffee, I thought, and scooted into kitchen.
“Is there anything to go with that coffee?” I asked with a smile.
“Afraid not,” he said over the top of the newspaper.
“Oh, I guess I’ll have to wait until tonight to sample your cooking, then?”
“Uh huh, you will. By the way, I never heard the Dreamer come in last night.”
“Stop calling Rafe that. He isn’t a dreamer. He just has an extra sense the rest of us don’t have. We deal in fact; he deals in something else,” I said with a smirk. “I never hear Rafe arrive or leave. He just drifts in whenever. He’s real light on his feet.”
“Yeah, some of us do deal in facts.” Marcus smirked and then said, “I bet he’s a lot of things you don’t realize.”
“Like what for instance?” Curiosity hummed through me over the statement.
“Maybe he has a girlfriend, and had a sleep over.” Marcus watched me closely.
“That could be. Besides, he’s only staying in the apartment temporarily. Aaron will be back soon.” I shrugged, and sipped my cooled coffee.
“Ah yes, Romeo. What do you hear from him?” Marcus quirked an eyebrow as he tossed the newspaper aside and slipped from the stool to pour more coffee for both of us.
“Nothing. Aaron’s in training for something or other. When he left, he wasn’t sure how long he’d be away, but he thought it would be a month or so.”
Changing subjects again, Marcus asked, “You aren’t about to snoop around this dead woman’s apartment, are you?”
“Why would I do that?” I asked wide-eyed.
Disbelief filtered across the rugged features as his enigmatic eyes peered at me thoughtfully. Marcus’s nostrils flared for a second, a definite omen of what I was in for.
“Don’t tell me that you’ve already been there and searched the place. I should have known you’d left out that part of your story last night. It was just too pat.” He grimaced and leaned back in the chair, arms folded across his chest. This action always showed me the level of disfavor I held.
“Marcus, it isn’t what you think.”
His hand rose in a stop motion. “Stop, before you get into trouble here. I’m a law enforcement officer, don’t forget that. I can overlook just so much, Lavinia.”
Indignant, I stared at him. Who’d asked for his opinion, anyway? Why was I on the hot seat? Why didn’t he allow me to explain? These and more questions sped through my mind like a freight train out of control.
“Listen up for a minute,” I said in a flat voice. “I merely rescued my mother from being caught inside the apartment.” So it wasn’t the exact truth, so what? I’d lied by omission, big deal. Just because I’d omitted the fact that Mr. Perkins and Muffy were in on the search-and-seizure act, well, somebody had to protect them. This silent explanation satisfied the lie that I perpetrated. I glared back at the handsome brute before me.
His head slowly shook back and forth. Marcus had a skeptical look on his face, while I stood my ground and hoped we wouldn’t have a full-fledged showdown. I should have known better.
“Vin, can’t you keep your mother in line at all?” he asked.
The man didn’t realize he was on dangerous ground. Nobody had the right to speak of my mother as though she was a pet on a leash, not even this man. Anger shot through me. I tamped it down with all my might.
“Mom has a mind of her own. I’m not her keeper, Marcus. She comes and goes at will. This is America. Women do have freedom of choice here, you know.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he admitted as realization dawned that he’d stepped over the line.
“Really?”
“I’m concerned that your mother, like you, won’t be able to stay out of a dangerous situation.” Concern laced his voice.
“My mother and I will be just fine, thank you very much.” My voice testy, my hand had slid to my hip, and my chin lifted.
“Don’t get angry about this. I’m simply worried about the two of you,” Marcus said. “It wasn’t so long ago that you were involved in three murders, which could have led to your own.”
The outer door swung open, and I heard a knock on the apartment door. Glad for the interruption, I swept pas
t Marcus and answered the knock.
“Good morning, I smelled coffee. Got any extra for a weary traveler?” Rafael smiled, his handsome face towering a few inches above me.
“Sure, come in. I don’t have anything to feed you, though, so you’re on your own there.” I smiled back at the bright blue eyes and brilliant white teeth set in his gorgeous face. Here was a man who had patience with me when no one else did, as happened quite often.
He nodded and then murmured a greeting to Marcus while I poured coffee and made another pot. The two men sat shoulder to shoulder at the counter. I stood behind it staring at them.
“Are you just arriving or have you been out already?” I asked aware of the answer.
“Just getting in,” Rafe answered with a smile. “I had an engagement last night.” With a glance between Marcus and me, he said, “Actually, you might help me out. Does your family know the Carochi family?”
Now, in law enforcement a question is asked even though the answer is usually known. It’s a matter of confirming the known answer to be the right answer. It’s a weird way to do things, but that’s how it’s done.
“Nonni does. I don’t know about anyone else. I don’t know them, that’s for sure,” I answered.
“Gianna’s grandmother is a Carochi. Did you know that?” Rafe asked with a questioning glance at me and then at Marcus.
“No,” I said. “I wasn’t aware of it. Gianna and I went to school together, but we weren’t close friends. I knew she was from a family my father knows, but I never paid much attention to which family that was.”
Marcus hadn’t uttered a sound. He took the conversation in as he drank fresh coffee. I turned a look to him and raised a brow. He shrugged.
“Did you know that Gianna was connected?” I asked.
He nodded. “I did,” was all he said.
My curiosity piqued as I glanced back and forth between the two men.
“Are you trying to make a point here?”
“Not at all,” Rafael denied as Marcus shook his head no.
“I just wondered if you were aware of who worked for you,” Rafe muttered.
“Gianna and Angela are wonderful people with impeccable reputations. It isn’t Gianna’s fault she’s related to the mob. You can pick your friends, not your family.”
J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 05 - Season for Murder Page 7