“The books are ready for the accountant, your taxes are up to date, and I think you and the girls need to re-order the spring line of goods.”
“Sounds great to me. Tell them I’ll come by this week.” I usually agreed to order whatever they thought would sell since the two women knew the business better than I did. The shop catered to high-end clientele and the wares surpassed even my expectations.
“I will, dear.” Mom’s eyes rested on Marcus for a moment. “Would you care for more pie, Marcus?”
“No, thank you. I have to get back on the road.” He turned to me and said, “Walk me out, will you?” Hazel eyes sparked as he spoke. Yikes.
Here we go. My nerves jangled. I wondered how much I would have to confess. It was clear that Marcus had honed in on the shots fired thing and realized there was more to it.
Outside on the deck, Marcus turned toward me and moved close into my personal space. I waited to see what he would do, but he laid his lips against mine and embraced me tightly. Enjoying the moment, I melted against him. After a few kisses I stepped back to stare into his warm eyes.
“Marcus, is there some point to this or do you plan to leave me all hot and bothered?”
He stared into my eyes and answered, “It’s an effort to soften you up enough to tell me why the hell your father would want you to stay away from the Hill.”
“Just for safety’s sake?”
“That explanation doesn’t work, so try again. Did you have anything to do with the shots fired incident?” Narrowed eyes stared into mine while he waited for an answer.
With a sigh, I explained. “This guy came into the station while I was waiting for Freedom to return from a call. He’d been shot and made me call his friend to come get him.”
A hard look settled on his face. “And?”
“Well, my dad said he was from the Hill.”
“You’ll make sense any minute, I just know it. Fess up, come on.” He rocked back and forth on his heels and waited.
In an effort to clarify my position, I quickly explained the man and his injury.
“Did your father say who he thought this man was?”
“Tony Jabroni,” I whispered.
He leaned forward, his eyes angry. “Speak up, I can’t hear you.”
“Tony Jabroni,” I murmured.
“That’s what I thought you said.” Marcus stepped back and paced a bit before he stood in front of me once again. “Listen to your father this time. I mean it.”
“Okay, okay.” It was plain to me, and everyone else, that Jabroni was a bad, bad, bad man.
With a nod, Marcus left me on the deck, watching him walk away. He had purpose to his step. I wondered if he’d be in touch with Aaron to compare notes.
Within moments, I had said my goodbyes to both parents. I gratefully accepted the food Mom gave me to take home. This meant I didn’t need to shop or cook until tomorrow or the next day, always a good thing.
Chapter 7
Though it was completely dark, it was still early. Lola’s driveway loomed ahead and I parked the Cooper in front of her garage. The flight of wooden stairs built over the boulders led to the house with twists and turns at various intervals. The sweet, snug home sat on a rocky bluff above the road. Automatic exterior lights glowed as I stepped in range of the motion sensors.
The front door swung inward when I unlocked it. I entered the cozy house and turned on the kitchen lights. The place looked great other than a soiled frying pan and fork in the sink. It was unusual for Lola to leave dirty dishes undone, but I figured she might have been in a hurry to get to the airport.
The house was warm. I checked the thermostat and found it set for sixty-eight degrees. Unwilling to mess with the heat, I wandered through the rest of the house before I left. Everything was in its place, so I shrugged off the impression that something was different. It had been a long day and I wanted to go home.
The outside lights went off as I stepped from the last stair and entered the car.
When I arrived home, I tucked the Cooper inside the garage and closed the overhead door with the press of a button. Lights from Aaron’s apartment cast shadows over the yard. I left the bag of food on the floor in front of my apartment and trudged up the stairs to the second floor. I knocked, leaned against the wall, and waited.
Aaron swung the door open and stood aside so I could enter the apartment. His face held a quizzical expression, but he didn’t utter a word.
After I’d settled at the kitchen counter, Aaron poured and slid a glass of wine toward me. He leaned back to wait for me to speak. Why was he silent? Maybe Marcus had spoken to him and he expected me to confess something.
“I want you to know that I have been banished from the Hill by you, Marcus, and my dad. It seems that everyone has an issue with Jabroni, so . . .”
His voice soft, Aaron said, “Glad to hear it. What else is on your mind?”
“What do you mean?”
“You obviously have something else you want to tell me about. Anticipation is practically sparking off your skin.”
“The car that sped away from the shooting incident . . . I know the license plate number. He, Jabroni, told me to forget everything, but I can’t. He made me kinda nervous, you know?”
“Tell me.”
“You won’t yell, will you?”
“No.” Aaron smiled in a kind way. “Just tell me, Vin.”
I uttered the license plate number. He wrote it down on a slip of paper and tucked it into the pocket of his trousers. He leaned against the counter as I sipped the wine.
“Why did you hold out?”
“It seemed prudent. I realized he was a bad guy when he started to talk to me at the station. He was bossy, arrogant, and thug-like.” I shrugged and emptied the glass.
A soft chuckle met my glance. He shook his head and poured more wine into the glass.
“I have to admit, Vin, this confession is a weak moment on your part. But thug-like? That’s quite a term.”
I smiled and shook my head. “I know, but for lack of another, it fits him well. He looked like he’d seen one fight too many in his time. I’ve met enforcers who looked better than Jabroni.”
“Hmm, I’m sure.” A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Did you check on Lola’s house tonight?”
“I just came from there. Everything seems fine.”
“Seems fine?” he asked, with a raised brow.
“I can’t put my finger on it, but something felt off. Maybe it was because she wasn’t there. The house was empty, but different somehow.”
When Aaron didn’t say anything, but just waited for me to go on, I suddenly remembered the old woman who had robbed me. “Oh, today I saw the old hag who robbed me.”
“Where?”
“On the sidewalk outside a store in Olneyville, after I left the mall. I stopped and tried to find her, but she sort of evaporated before I could get the car turned around.”
“Don’t tell me you would have chased her? What were you thinking?” Aaron shook his head. “Did you tell Marcus?”
“No, and you shouldn’t either. He’ll only get angry again.” I slid off the chair and turned toward the door.
“Again? Was he angry when you told him about Jabroni?”
“I didn’t tell him all of it, just most of it. He was a tad upset, but more concerned. So I didn’t tell him I saw that woman again.”
“If you had chased her and caught up to her, what then?” His eyes held a speculative gleam.
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I just wanted to catch the witch. That’s all.” I shrugged. “Besides, I called Freedom and the PPD are keeping an eye out for her.”
“Do you have a sketch of this woman?”
“I haven’t done one, but that’s a good idea. Do you have some paper and a pencil?”
Aaron left the room and then returned with supplies. “I’m surprised you haven’t looked at mug shots.”
“Nobody suggested it, but then agai
n, maybe finding the woman isn’t a high priority.” I stifled a yawn, and then closed my eyes to get a clear mental picture of the woman. Eyes open, I let the pencil race across the page. Before long, the old woman’s face took shape. Some added wrinkles and wisps of hair completed the picture. I handed the sketch to Aaron and watched him stare at the drawing.
“Damn, that was fast. You’re really good, you know that? If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep this. Maybe I can get a hit if it’s scanned into the FBI system. What do you say?”
“Sure, no problem. Let me know, will you?” I yawned again and strolled toward the stairs. I turned and mentioned that Freedom should get a copy of the picture to share with the cops in her district.
Aaron nodded and closed the door.
I picked up the bag of food I’d left outside my apartment and headed inside. The message light on the phone blinked. I put the food on the counter and hit the button to listen.
“Vin, I have bad news,” the voice croaked. I leaned closer to the machine. It sounded like Lanky Larry.
“The doc says I have the mumps. Geez, imagine a guy my age with the mumps? I feel like crap. Can you finish the job for me tomorrow? All that needs doing is the foliage design you started today.” Larry mumbled some more. I couldn’t catch what else he said before the call ended.
The phone rang a few times after I dialed his number. A voice, thick with pain answered.
“Hello?” he croaked.
“Larry, it’s me . . . Vin,” I said. “I’m sorry you’re so sick. I’ll be glad to finish the job for you. Does the lady of the manor know?”
“Yeah, she’s gonna be there to let you in tomorrow.”
“Okay, I’ll go first thing and get that done for you. Get well, okay? Do you need some soup or something?”
Larry’s voice took on a whine. “No, I can’t eat. I look like a damn bullfrog with this throat. It’s huge.”
I wondered for a second if I’d had the mumps as a child. I’d call my mother.
With another get well wish, I disconnected and called my mother to ask about the mumps. She said that Gio and I had developed them at the same time when we were kids so not to worry. I smiled with relief and hung up.
It was late, and I was beat. The coffee pot was set for morning, so I tossed my jacket aside, put the food in the fridge, and headed to bed. It took some time before my thoughts settled down. After several deep breaths, my body started to relax and I must have drifted off.
* * *
The next thing I knew, sunshine blazed through the window into my face. I turned over, slapped a feather pillow over my head and contemplated the day. As I peeked out from under the pillow, my gaze rested on the alarm clock on the nightstand next to the bed. Eight o’clock. Gosh, I needed to get up.
Lanky Larry’s mumps came to mind. I felt my neck and then snorted at my silliness. My mother had said I wouldn’t get them. I knew she was right. Besides, there had to be an incubation period, right? I wouldn’t get them within a day.
Silently chastising myself, I got out of bed and straggled into the kitchen for a cup of hot coffee. I downed the first cup, poured a second one after I had brushed my teeth and washed my face. The vision in the bathroom mirror made me realize it would take a lot to put my hair in order. The wild-man-of-Borneo look had nothing on this mass of snarled curls. I pulled it back from my face, added a hair scrunchy and left the room. Wisps still strayed away like antennae.
Footsteps on the stairs warned of company. When the knock sounded, I swung the door open to find Aaron, looking very GQ while I looked like a car wreck on Route 95. Did this man ever have a hair out of place?
His eyes roamed my face, stopped at my hair, and then continued over the rest of me. A grin spread across his face.
He laughed. “Tough night?”
“I guess. I can’t remember.” I yawned, ushered him inside from the cold hallway, and poured him a mug of coffee that slopped over the counter for no reason whatsoever. It was about to be another interesting day. I could tell.
“Mmm, good coffee. Got anything to go with it?” He stared suggestively at me for a moment, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Not a thing,” I said and turned toward my own cup. Geez, I was a wreck. If I’d read him right, he’d just asked for more than a slice of toast.
“Hmm, okay.” He glanced at the phone and then at me.
“Any interesting calls yet today?” Aaron asked.
“No. Should there be? Would you have some news that I should know?” I wondered what, if anything, he had found out last night. Was this simply a fishing expedition for information?
“No, I was just curious,” Aaron remarked. “Your life is an ongoing mystery, so I thought maybe you’d had another upset.” His glance took in my hair again.
Self-conscious, I reached up to smooth the strays and watched this hunk smirk at my effort to tame my unyielding mess into a semblance of order. It was useless, so I let it spring back out of control.
I glanced at the clock and stood up. Brown eyes regarded me with interest and something else, but I didn’t know what.
“I have to get out of here. I’m not trying to get rid of you, but I promised Lanky Larry to finish a job for him today.”
“Is he picking you up?”
“No, the poor guy was diagnosed with the mumps yesterday. He called me last night to ask if I’d finish the job for him.”
“That’s good of you. I have to go now, too. I’ll talk to you later today or tonight.” He smiled, gulped the rest of his coffee and left.
When the outer door closed and Aaron’s truck started, I raced into the bedroom, grabbed some old clothes, and headed toward the bathroom. Within minutes I had tamed my hair, washed up, deodorized, and dressed. I laced up my paint-speckled sneakers and sped out the door.
A State Police cruiser slid to a halt at the end of the driveway as I backed the MINI Cooper out of the garage. I watched Marcus swagger up the driveway as only a State Trooper can.
“You in a hurry, ma’am?” He grinned and leaned toward my window as I slid it down.
“Yeah, I’m headed to work. Why do you ask, Officer?” It must be my day for handsome law enforcement agents, I thought with an inward grin.
“Just checking with you before I drive to Newport. There’s a training program today and I’m a presenter. I won’t be available by phone, so you’re on your own. Try not to get into trouble, okay?” Marcus tipped his hat toward me and turned to walk away.
Why was it that the men in my life, including my father, thought I was in a jam every day of the week? I did manage to have some calm days when life didn’t go wrong. Today could be one of those days.
“Uh, excuse me? I’m not always in trouble, you know,” I said in a hoity-toity manner. I smirked when he stopped short and turned back to me.
“It’s a rare occasion when you aren’t in trouble. I must admit, though, that you do have some reasonably calm days. Just be careful today, please.”
We both smiled. He drove away with a salute. I backed out of the driveway and headed toward Cranston’s high-end country homes.
The ungainly house wasn’t one that could be missed. It sprawled at the end of the street with only one house across from it. The empty space adjacent to the two houses held a Land for Sale sign, smack in the middle of the lot.
A furniture repair truck sat parked outside the other house with two sporty cars right behind it. I glanced at them as I turned into the other driveway and parked next to the side entrance of Larry’s project house.
The curler queen hustled out the door with a lit cigarette dangling from her lips like an added appendage. Red lipstick adorned the wrinkled mouth and her hands fluttered like butterfly wings in the wind. I slid the window of Lola’s car down as ‘Queeny’ opened her mouth. The cigarette bobbed up and down as she spoke.
“Could you park your little car in the street? I need to get the Mercedes out of the garage in a while. Today is my bridge day,” she said, her tone ha
ughty, as though I were a servant.
“Sure, no problem.” I tried to smile, but knew it failed in sincerity.
When the car was parked and locked, and well out of the way, I hiked up the driveway and knocked on the door.
This time heavy footsteps pounded on the wood flooring as someone neared the entry. The inside door stood open, and the storm door separated me from the owner. A man strode into view. I glanced up, the spit in my mouth dried like rain in the desert, while my breath stuck in my lungs.
The man who stood before me was none other than Tony Jabroni’s doctor, Louie-the-Lug. He stared at me. I stared back through the glass. Another man approached the door as I worked hard to collect my scattered wits. Tony Jabroni stepped into view. My heart thumped a wild beat as I gawked at both men.
When the doctor swung the door open, I entered like a puppet on strings—with no will of my own, no mind to tell me what to do. I was simply stunned. So much for a good day without any trouble or problems. With a couple of deep breaths, I tried a smile before I spoke a word.
“You the painter?” Tony asked in his husky voice. He frowned down at me.
“I’m just filling in for the guy you hired. He’s sick.” The salivary glands in my mouth began to work again. I swallowed in a loud gulp.
“You know the way downstairs?” he asked, without offering to show me.
“Uh huh, I do.” I moved away from the two men, in the direction of the staircase. Louie-the-Lug hadn’t uttered a sound. He continued to stare at me as though I were an alien.
“You didn’t mention our incident to the cops yesterday, did you?” Jabroni asked with narrowed eyes.
“I didn’t bring it up at all.” It was a half-truth. I hadn’t brought it up. It had been brought up to me. So I hadn’t really lied, right? It was a rocky road to hell. I was well on my way there with all these half-truths and outright lies.
“You done good, kid. You done good,” he said with a smarmy leer.
The term “dirtball” came to mind, but I knew enough to keep my trap shut. Instead, I waved my hand and practically fell down the stairs in my effort to get away. Leave it to me to end up at Tony Jabroni’s house. Thanks to Lanky Larry, I was stuck working for a mobster, the very same one who I had been warned to stay away from. The only defense I had was that I wasn’t on Federal Hill. That had to count for something, right?
Cold Moon Dead Page 6