J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 05 - Season for Murder

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J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 05 - Season for Murder Page 9

by J. M. Griffin


  “You should see your face.” He laughed. “They aren’t real, you know.”

  “I know, but aren’t they wonderful?” I turned back to touch each one. The smoothness of some was set off by the textured features of others. I never checked the prices, but instinctively knew they were astronomical.

  Rafe’s musical laughter reminded me that we had a reservation, and suddenly I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten breakfast. Hunger pangs gnawed at my stomach, though I hadn’t noticed until now.

  “Let’s eat. I’m starved,” I acknowledged with a laugh as we moved toward the dining room.

  The hostess showed us to a table in front of the fireplace. A fire warmed the room and the chill that clung to my clothing was soon gone. Sturdy leather menus lay atop the table. We ordered coffee, and I flipped to the first page to view the fare offered.

  “How about a bowl of chowder and a sandwich?” I asked as he stared at me over the top of his menu.

  Our waitress brought a steaming pot of coffee and filled the earthenware mugs. She left the pot and took the lunch order. Her eyes rested on Rafe for longer than necessary, causing me to grin at him as she walked away.

  “She thinks you’re the best thing since popcorn.” I chuckled.

  “Is that right?” Rafe grinned. “I thought I had a smudge of dirt on my face or something.”

  After the meal was served, we chatted on and off. When the waitress cleared the table and took our request for dessert, I relaxed and fiddled with the coffee mug handle.

  “You asked me about the Carochi family,” I said “Why was that?”

  Rafe murmured, “I wasn’t sure if you were aware of Gianna’s background. She seems like a pleasant sort.”

  Mesmerized, I stared at his blue eyes. They reminded me of the color of cornflowers. This man was a mystery. A mystery that grew deeper by the moment. I accepted his invitations with interest and curiosity, hoping that with time spent in his company, I’d learn more about him and his character within. Rafe, or his job, had never been made implicitly clear to me. My curiosity got the better of me. It was unusual for me to hold back my inquisitive nature.

  Shaking my head, I straightened in the chair. If he was interested in Gianna, then maybe he was in search of more information from me.

  “You’ve been to the shop, then?” I asked.

  Rafe nodded. “I’d spoken to Lola, at the deli, and she mentioned it. I was looking for something special to send my sister for Christmas, so I stopped by. You carry unique gifts, Vinnie.”

  “We try to be different than other shops in the state. It brings people back when they can find a gift that is beyond the ordinary.”

  “Well, you’ve succeeded,” he said. His gaze wandered around the room coming to rest on my face once again. Rafe cleared his throat as his fingers touched my hand.

  “Stay away from Mr. Casali. He’s bad news for you.” His voice was light, like that of a harp. The sound surrounded me with its musical lilt.

  Unable to tear my gaze from his, my angst rocketed as the blood raced through my veins. What now?

  I smirked, but Rafe didn’t smile in return. “He isn’t exactly the person I’d have chosen for representation. I don’t know where my father found him. Under a rock, I’m sure.”

  “That’s likely more true than you realize,” he stated. “The fact is he’s a dangerous and unscrupulous man, who wouldn’t think anything of harming you without provocation.”

  That was it. My out of control curiosity took over. I needed to know how he’d arrived at that assumption.

  “You might be right, Rafe. I’d like to know how you came by that opinion.”

  A smile slowly crawled across his features. It was startling when it finally arrived. Handsome was too commonplace a term for Rafe’s good looks. His blue eyes sparkled and those marvelous dimples deepened.

  “Just call it intuition on my part.”

  “If that intuition is catchy, then I hope I come down with a heavy dose of it.” I smiled and pleaded, “You must have gotten your information about the little meatball from someplace other than intuition. Fess up, Rafael.”

  “Vin, there’s nothing to confess. It’s just a feeling I have about the man. He’s dangerous. You know it, or you wouldn’t be on your guard when he comes around.”

  Rafe leaned back in the chair, breaking contact with me. The unsteady rhythm of my pulse returned to normal. The mystery that shrouded this man had begun to nag me. I concluded that I needed to find out more about him than I currently knew, which wasn’t much.

  My eyes lit upon the Christmas tree in the corner, all gold and glittery. It was a lovely sight. I remembered I hadn’t gotten my tree yet.

  “Will you be putting up a Christmas tree?” I asked him.

  “Probably not,” he answered.

  “Is it a religious decision or just that you live alone?”

  “Religion has nothing to do with it. I just figured you were going to put a tree up in your house, so I could enjoy that one. Besides, I won’t be in Rhode Island much longer.” He grinned.

  “Oh. Where will you be going?”

  “I have a new assignment. I’ll be leaving the country for a while. When are you putting up your tree?” he asked.

  “As soon as I go pick one out,” I said with a smirk. “What kind of assignment?”

  “It’s a photo shoot in the Caribbean. I’m a freelance photographer. Didn’t you know?”

  With a shake of my head, it occurred to me that he might be doing some photography for Lola’s next cookbook.

  “Is that why you’re at the deli all the time?”

  “Yes, didn’t Lola tell you?”

  Satisfied with the answer, I said, “Now that you bring it up, she may have mentioned it. I know she’s been working hard on the recipes. Are you working with her on that?”

  “Her father is a family relation twice removed or something. We ran into one another in Boston and he mentioned Lola’s project. I offered to do the photos for her. That’s how we connected.” Rafe shrugged. “It was a coincidence that you had an empty apartment, a nice one, I might add.”

  “Now it all makes sense. Lola hadn’t said what you did for a living, but that you needed a place to stay for a while. Her recommendation of you was enough for me. I didn’t ask any questions.”

  “It was quite coincidental, really.” Rafe smiled, his charm oozing across the table. “Now, how about that Christmas tree? Why don’t we pick one out this afternoon? Even though it gets dark early, I think there’s still enough light left.” His willingness to help me didn’t allow me to refuse. Besides, maybe I could delve into his past a bit more while we tree hunted.

  “Sure, why not.”

  “Do you have any particular place in mind?” Rafe asked.

  “I usually go to Seven Mile Road to Henry’s Tree Farm in Scituate. My aunt Livvy and I went together most of the time. It would be nice to have your company since she isn’t alive any longer.”

  His thoughtful gaze rested on my face before a smile crossed his lips. I wasn’t certain he was aware of Aunt Livvy’s death. I hadn’t known Rafael very long.

  Dessert arrived. We ate cream puffs filled to overflowing with rich whipped cream, and drizzled with a rich chocolate sauce. As we left the restaurant, I heard the waitress tell Rafael to return soon. I smiled at the sultry utterance of her words.

  In the parking lot, I turned and imitated her. He threw his head back and laughed.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.” His shoulders shook with mirth while his eyes twinkled with delight.

  “Nah, she just knows a good thing when she sees it,” I admitted and headed toward the car.

  He slung his arm over my shoulders as we walked across the parking lot. He continued chuckling, and I laughed at his sense of humor.

  “Lead the way, madam,” he said and left me at my car to go get into his Saab.

  The trip across the bridge was quick for a change. No traffic jam and no acciden
ts. Lady Luck was on my side. How long that would last, I didn’t know.

  As I pulled into Henry’s Tree Farm parking lot lined with cars, I slowed to a crawl, and searched for a spot to fit the car into. At the end of a long row, I found a place and squeezed between two trucks.

  The Saab rolled into the lot. Rafe parked near the exit. I watched him get out. His gaze roamed the cars until he found mine. I joined him and we went toward the sprawling, one level, wooden structure.

  Inside the main building, a gas fireplace blazed with artificial logs. Wreaths hung everywhere, some were decorated and others were plain. Garland of hearty pine filled one corner rack. The woody scent, mingled with spiced cider, gave the room a sweet, heady aroma.

  My spirits lifted as the excitement of the holiday season sent a thrill through my body. I glanced at Rafael and watched a wide smile stretch across his lean face.

  We took a hand saw and headed into the field. We’d gone about a hundred yards when I veered to the left. A lone Scotch pine tree stood among firs and spruce. It silently beckoned me. I nodded in acquiescence as though I was daft. When I reached the tree, I turned to Rafe and said, “This is it. This is the one.”

  A guffaw met my announcement as he gazed at my choice.

  “You’re sure you want this Charlie Brown tree?” he asked with a crooked grin.

  “This is the one.” Proud of my choice, I walked around the tree, admiring it from all sides.

  “If you insist.” He went to work cutting the tree at its base.

  I held the tree fast as he sawed through the trunk. I sniffed the pine. Pitch glued itself to my old gloves. Yep, this was the one, I thought with a satisfied grin. Aunt Livvy would have loved it as much as I did. Crooked or not, the tree had personality.

  We lugged the tree toward the front of the grounds. Inside, I paid for my selection and grabbed a couple of wreaths to go with it. Rafael loaded the purchases into the Altima, the tree tied and suspended from the trunk. Within minutes, we were headed toward the house.

  As I started the ride home, I glanced at the clock on the dashboard of the car. The day had faded. I’d need to head to Marcus’s before long. I was filled with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Whatever had possessed him to issue the invite left me with a renewed sense of curiosity.

  Life with Marcus would be interesting, even though we were both strong people. Strong in our opinions and independence. I wasn’t ready to settle down with anyone, and I figured Marcus wasn’t either, though we never spoke of it, so I was unsure where he stood on the subject. Maybe I was afraid asking him would lead to revelations I couldn’t handle. Thoughts of a minivan, loaded with screaming children, headed to soccer practice, popped into my head. I choked on the visual, realizing my imagination was out of control again.

  After Rafael unloaded the tree, I asked if he’d prop it against the garage. He stared at me for a moment and nodded.

  “I have to rearrange my furniture and find the stand it goes in before the tree goes up. I think it might still be in the basement with Aunt Livvy’s things.”

  “There’s always tomorrow, right?” Rafe asked with a cheery grin. “I’ll be around if you need a hand with it.”

  The tree leaned haphazardly against the oversized barn that had been transformed into a garage sometime down through the years. I stood back and admired my purchase with a sense of well being. The tree talked to me. I knew it did. Not words exactly, just feelings of happiness and delight.

  Once inside the house, Rafe headed to the upstairs apartment. I scooted into my own to get ready for my dinner date. Not knowing what to expect, I rustled through the clothes hanging in the closet for something sensual, but warm, as well.

  Dresses and skirts littered the bed as I tried to decide what to wear. A deep burgundy, cashmere v-neck sweater, and a black, velvet, ankle-length skirt, made the final pick. In a matter of moments, I’d showered and changed into the outfit. Burgundy suede, high-heeled boots, with gold thread running through the material finished the look. I added a pair of deep red cabochon earrings and a matching necklace to the attire, and figured I was ready to go.

  In a black-hooded, wool cloak, I left the house to drive to Cranston. The trip didn’t take long and before I realized it, I was outside Marcus’s house. Lights flickered across the yard. The Victorian style house held two sets of long windows, one on each side of the front entry door. The building was out of place in this particular neighborhood. All the other homes consisted of ranch styles or Cape Cod houses.

  As I started up the steps, the front door opened and Marcus stood back. The lamps on either side of the double doors cast a soft glow over the exterior of the house, and flooded the hallway with light. Mailboxes sat, one on either side of the large doors. One had Richmond written on it and the other simply held a number with the letter B next to it.

  I glanced at Marcus and watched his appreciative smile widen. He reached for my hand, pulling me into the foyer. A door stood open on the left side of the hallway, while another door was closed on the opposite side. We entered the open doorway, and I glanced about.

  The wooden floor gleamed around the edges of a sculpted rug in deep earth-toned hues. Leather scented the room. I admired the deep chocolate leather sofa and two chairs that were studded with burnished brass tacks. Two end tables with brushed brass lamps and a coffee table nestled among the grouping.

  A Christmas tree about two feet tall perched atop a table in the corner. Tiny lights blinked, and miniature ornaments clung to the branches. This passed Marcus’s muster for a holiday tree. Everyone to his own taste is my motto.

  I discarded my cloak and glanced into the dining room. The elegant mahogany dining table was set for two with stemmed glassware and gleaming silver. The dishes were an excellent grade of China. My dinnerware paled by comparison. How had a macho man like this acquired such lovely things?

  Marcus admired my outfit. In an instant, I realized I’d dressed correctly and was surprised by my foresight. After he stowed my cloak, he joined me in the living room. The front windows faced the street, showing brilliant lights, which decorated neighborhood homes. He stroked my arms and turned me to face him.

  “I’m glad you could join me. I was worried there’d be another catastrophe in your life that would prevent you from being here.” His soft smile and luminous eyes sent a tingle to the soles of my feet.

  “I managed to stay clear of everyone today. As a matter of fact, I had lunch with Rafael and then got my Christmas tree.” Lying by omission, I left out the fact that Rafael had been part of the tree selection.

  He stiffened a tad, but said nothing about Rafael. Instead, he escorted me to the dining room and pulled out a chair.

  “I’ve never asked you where you got this wonderful furniture.”

  “My mother gave me the dining room set and a few other pieces, when she moved away. I had scant furnishings when I moved in and no time to shop for more. She thought it dreadful and remedied the situation,” Marcus answered.

  “Your mother has wonderful taste,” I said and again mentally compared his belongings to mine. I had some great furnishings, but this intricately carved dining room set was to-die-for.

  I kept up the conversation to waylay any chance of him questioning me about Rafe, my mother, or any other subject likely to spoil the evening. His eyes twinkled and I figured he may have caught on to my reasoning.

  The meal was tasty. Fettuccini Alfredo, roast pork with slivers of garlic and rosemary, along with a salad and warm crusty bread sticks summed up the menu. I drank more wine than I should have, and giddiness took over.

  When dinner was finished and I had complimented him, he ushered me into the living room.

  “Does your trooper buddy still live next door?” Marcus rented out the other side of the duplex.

  He nodded. “Yeah, he’s been assigned to the prison intake center, the poor bastard.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “It isn’t a good job, but he was assigned
it and there’s nothing he could do about it. He’ll get rotated out sooner or later.”

  “I see.” I didn’t, but it didn’t matter. I’d had too much wine.

  “Did you bring your pajamas?” Marcus asked with a grin.

  “Why, yes, I did. Would you like to see them?” I asked with a boozy grin.

  He nodded, dowsed the lights and helped me unzip my skirt. In a matter of moments the clothing was gone and I stood in boots and nothing else. The lights from the Christmas decorations across the street lit the room in a soft glow of colors. Just enough glow for us to see one another. He removed my boots, letting his hands travel the length of my legs.

  Guiding me toward the bedroom, Marcus stripped his clothes off and we compared pajamas. I liked his as much as he liked mine. With laughter, we landed on the bed.

  Chapter 11

  It was much later when I heard the Christmas tune from my cell phone. The weak sound filtered up the stairs. I slipped from the covers, tossed on the shirt Marcus had discarded, and padded down the stairs barefoot.

  The phone had fallen out of my handbag. I picked it up to check the caller’s number that scrolled across the screen when I pressed the button. My mother was looking for me.

  The clock hands pointed to eleven. I wondered what the hell had happened as I dialed the number.

  She answered on the first ring. Her voice was just above a whisper.

  “Is that you, Lavinia?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.

  “Mom, what’s wrong?” I asked, worry furrowing my eyebrows.

  “I just heard that Mrs. Galumpky was killed. It was on the news. Did you know that?”

  I couldn’t hold back the sigh that escaped me. I rubbed my fingers across my forehead. I’d left a warm bed, and the embrace of a man, to listen to this?

  “I identified her body this morning for the PPD.”

  “Why did they call you?” Mom asked.

  “Mom, they realized it would be too upsetting for you to go down and do it,” I lied. The fast track to hell had entered warp speed.

  “Oh.” Her voice sounded doubtful.

 

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