My friend, the petite firebrand, was lonely. How stupid of me not to realize. Ashamed that I hadn’t noticed, I smiled and said, “You’ll need to change that then, won’t you?”
“You’ve got that right.” Lola giggled. “I’m going to turn over a new leaf, be the life of the party, and have men swooning at my feet.” Her chin up, Lola turned to me with a wide smile.
“Knock ’em dead, Lola.” I chuckled. Little did I know that would happen sooner rather than later—but not by Lola.
The car slid close to the sidewalk outside my house and I left Lola with a wave of my hand, promising to see her and Aaron later on. She drove away with a beep of the horn while I hurried inside to get ready for the gallery opening.
By six o’clock, I had showered, done my hair and make-up, and slipped into the Armani dress. The jewelry settled against my skin and looked spectacular as an accessory for the dress. A knock at the door announced Aaron and from the pleasure revealed on his face, I knew I’d chosen the dress wisely.
A low whistle came from his pursed lips as he took in my appearance from head to toe. He motioned for me to turn around. I pirouetted while he appreciated the total effect of the outfit.
“You are a delight to the eyes, beautiful,” he said with a wide grin. “Are you riding with Lola and me?”
“No, I’m heading out now to have a drink with Larry before the show starts. He’s quite anxious and I want to support him any way I can.”
The Armani suit story was on the tip of my tongue, but I glanced at the clock and threw my embroidered wool coat over the dress. A small purse holding lipstick, car keys, some money, and my driver’s license sat on the counter. I grabbed it with a promise to see Aaron and Lola at the opening. I left Aaron to lock the door on his way out.
The rental car I was driving hummed down the highway into Providence. Gallery parking was on the left as I crossed the Providence River. A few cars sat in the lot, but none that I recognized. Swinging into a spot near the gallery door, I got out and locked the car. Another pulled in behind me. I turned to see the gray Crown Victoria idle to a stop. Marcus sat behind the wheel with a smile on his face.
“Lady, you can’t park here,” Marcus said as he climbed out of the car and strode toward me.
“Want to arrest me, Officer?” I chuckled, holding out my bare wrists. “Where are the handcuffs, then?” I stepped close as his lips covered mine.
“You look good enough to eat,” he murmured.
“Do you think so?” I snuggled against him, comfortable in his arms. My body temperature started to rise. I knew this was dangerous for me.
A voice came out of nowhere. “You’re here at last. Oh, my God, it’s a disaster, Vinnie,” Larry wailed in a panic-stricken voice as he approached us.
Marcus stepped back, a hand still on my waist. He stared at Larry and then glanced at me, his eyebrows arched in question. I shrugged, waiting for the torrent of words I knew would be coming.
“The guests are arriving, everything is ready . . . and wouldn’t you know it, Jabroni really brought his W-I-F-E? She called earlier today and said she wasn’t coming. I don’t know what happened.” Larry’s hands fluttered and his eyes rolled toward the heavens. “I am so worried now that she’s here.”
Marcus glanced at me and at Larry before his eyes settled on me again. “Jabroni is here? You knew he would attend this affair?” His soft voice belied the disbelief in his eyes.
“Now, Marcus, don’t get angry,” I said. “It’s a public venue with a slew of people attending.” I leaned into his ear and whispered to him about the FBI and Aaron.
A nod from him assured me that I had just saved my skin. It would have taken an act of Congress to keep him from dragging me away had Aaron and his FBI crew decided not to bless the event with their presence. A thank you for that small blessing sped through my head as I glanced back at Larry.
“Don’t get nervous. We can deal with this. If Mrs. Jabroni has any problems with the guests or host, then we’ll head her off before things get out of control.”
Larry’s chubby hand ran over his bald dome while he considered the idea. Then he finally nodded and breathed a sigh of relief.
“What would I do without you to help me stay sane?”
This was too much for Marcus, who burst into laughter. “You want Vinnie to save you? She can’t save herself.” His chest heaved, but I failed to see the humor.
“Excuse me. I think I handle myself very well, thank you very much,” I commented.
Marcus stopped laughing. “No offense, Vin, but you do seem to get into one unbelievable situation after another. I simply can’t see how you would be able to save Larry from some catastrophic incident.” Marcus tried to look serious. But a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth.
“Nice to know you have confidence in my abilities,” I remarked. My attention returned to Larry and I forced a smile on my face. “Didn’t you promise me champagne?”
“I have a 1947 vintage ready and waiting, Vin,” Larry said. “Let’s go.” He took my arm and we turned away from Marcus.
“Ahem. Have a great time tonight, you two.”
“We will, Marcus,” I said as Larry and I headed up the steps of the gallery. Annoyed at his comments, I was relieved that Marcus was on duty rather than in attendance at the gallery. It would have been difficult to keep him from sneering and snarling at Jabroni all evening.
The coatroom was to my right as we entered the building. I handed my coat to the young man waiting for the crowd to appear. He gave me a numbered plastic tab that I tucked into my purse. With a smile pasted to my face, I turned to Larry who waited for me to enter the room with him.
In the left corner of the room, Mrs. Jabroni stood in front of the sculpted bust of a woman. She mumbled something to the man to her right and moved on. The bronze piece was new to me. I glanced at Larry with a question on my lips. His nervous gaze turned from Mrs. Jabroni to me.
“It’s a sculpture that I did of you from memory. I hope you’re not insulted, Vin.”
We approached the sculpture after a waiter had offered us champagne. I hadn’t recognized my own image since I had focused on Mrs. Jabroni, not the sculpture. The image lay swathed from the right shoulder down across the chest with bronze cloth. Wild tresses nestled around my shoulders and the frozen-in-time facial expression was serene. As if that serenity could—or would—ever happen, I thought with a smirk and emptied the champagne glass.
Another flute of champagne replaced the first as I gazed at the bust. I sipped the white wine, allowing its fruity flavor to again tickle my taste buds. It was a wonderful vintage and I turned to Larry with a wide smile.
“Mmm, this is fabulous. 1947 you said? Where did you get it?”
“My parents gave it to me when I graduated from college. After some research, I realized it was a good vintage, so I saved it for a special occasion. I think this is it, don’t you?”
I leaned down and kissed his cheek. Larry chuckled and toasted me. We clinked glasses and sipped the heady wine.
Larry told me why and how he had found the inspiration for the work. I listened and let my gaze roam the room in search of Jabroni and his witchy wife.
Within a few seconds, I saw Mrs. Jabroni escorted by a scrawny man with a chicken-beak nose. I wondered who he was and what his connection to the Jabronis was. The man escorted her around the room as she took in one work of art after another.
Her husband stood before the brilliant floral Larry had placed front and center on the white wall. His eyes traveled over the painting. He appeared mesmerized by the design. Maybe the man had some taste after all. Suddenly Jabroni turned toward Gilda Trimming with a wide smile. The tenderness in his eyes surprised me and I sucked in a breath of air.
Gilda floated across the room. Dressed in a sheer black tunic over slim silk pants that accented Gilda’s lean figure, her long-sleeved gold top added richness to the outfit. I leaned down to Larry.
“What do you think of that?” My
chin jutted out toward the mobster and Gilda.
“They make a great couple, don’t they?” Larry asked.
My eyes popped wide open and I stared at Larry as though he had two heads. A great couple? He was a mob boss for God’s sake. Gilda was here as the hostess and Jabroni’s wife was here as . . . well, the mobster’s wife. How great was that? Not great. I pulled Larry farther back toward the bronze bust and whispered, “Great? You think this situation is great?”
“No, I said they make a great couple,” he murmured. “If Mrs. Jabroni was out of the picture, I think they’d get married. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
My head shook back and forth in disbelief as I stared down at my roly-poly friend.
“Who is the skinny dude with Mrs. Jabroni?”
“I have no idea. Never seen him before tonight. They look pretty friendly, though, huh?” Larry glanced up at me.
With a nod, I sipped the champagne and started to move around the room. A couple stood in front of another work of art. I figured they were FBI when they glanced around and then back at the artwork. They didn’t identify themselves or anything. I just had a gut feeling they were agents.
The door opened to several more attendees. Aaron strode in with Lola on his arm. She was dressed in a gorgeous dark green velvet pantsuit. The top she wore underneath the jacket was white satin and dipped toward her cleavage. Aaron wore black Armani and a silk shirt with a striped tie that probably cost more than my entire outfit had. He smiled and winked as they walked across the room toward Larry and me.
“Oooh, doesn’t he look marvelous?” Larry moaned.
“Yes, they’re both gorgeous,” I said softly while I continued to watch their approach.
When they stepped closer, Lola strolled away with Larry to see the various works of art, and I stood with Aaron.
“You really look wonderful in that dress,” Aaron murmured as he kissed my cheek.
I thanked him and nodded toward Mrs. Jabroni. Aaron didn’t blink, look, or show that he’d noticed my motion. It was as though he weren’t an agent on duty. My anxiety started to build as I glanced around the room at the tableau of odd couples. Jabroni and Gilda, Mrs. Jabroni and Chickenman, Larry and Lola, Aaron and me . . . all of us seemed to be waiting for something to happen. Other people milled around the artwork and soft chatter hummed along with the classical music. The crowd had grown while I had focused on the bad guys and gals.
The bronze bust rested on a tall stand behind me and I watched as Aaron realized the bust was of me.
“When did you sit for this, Vinnie?” His eyes roamed the bust and then roamed me.
“I never sat for it. Larry did it from memory after we left college.” I smiled and stared at the beautiful bronze color. “I was just as surprised as you are.”
“It’s a very good likeness,” Aaron commented. We wandered around viewing the remaining works. Aaron remarked on each one we paused in front of. Some comments were funny and some serious. We both had the same preferences regarding Larry’s art and I chuckled when Aaron’s remarks matched my thoughts.
As time went on, the room filled with more guests. Gilda handled the sales end of things with sophistication and tact. It occurred to me that Gilda was so adept at running this gallery experience that Larry would have a smashing show.
Refreshments were offered by two waiters. Duarte was absent and the two other feds meandered past the artwork without much enthusiasm. It was plain to see who they were since they didn’t dress as well as Aaron, had suspicious expressions, and often glanced furtively around the room. I’m sure I wasn’t the only person who realized who they were, but I had to give Jabroni credit. He never let on for one second that he was aware the FBI was in attendance.
“You look stunning in that dress, but I have to say Lola has my attention, Vinnie.” The soft voice behind me belonged to none other than Porter Anderson.
“Well, why are you standing here? Go talk to her,” I whispered and gave him a small nudge.
His grin widened. He headed across the room toward Lola.
Chapter 17
Larry scooted to Gilda’s side. As he spoke and his head bobbed back and forth. His excitement was evident. I didn’t know if it concerned the show or something else, so I slowly made my way around the room to find out.
Standing before a painting about two feet away from Gilda and Larry, I listened to their conversation. “This show is going so well, Gilda . . . I can’t thank you enough.” Larry bubbled over with enthusiasm.
Laughter followed her words of encouragement and I relaxed. I started to turn back the way I had come and bumped into Tony Jabroni.
“Oomph!” I said as I bounced off the man.
“Hello, Miss Esposito, how are you this fine evening?” Jabroni’s gruff voice chilled me to the bone.
“G-Great, uh . . . just great. And h-h-how are y-y-you?” I stammered, trying not to sweat.
“Your friend Larry has real talent. He should make a bundle from the show. You must be happy for him.”
I could only nod.
“My wife thinks he’s the best artist she’s ever seen. I gotta buy a bunch of this stuff for the house just to shut her up.” He shook his head and grimaced.
“She has good taste, then,” I said and glanced around, hoping to be rescued by Aaron. He was across the room with his back to me, so I turned to Jabroni just in time to see him catch a glance from his wife. He moved away from me without a word.
Excused, I wandered toward Porter Anderson and Lola. They chatted in quiet undertones while I stood off to the side listening. They seemed to have no idea I was even in the same room, never mind this universe. Ah well, who’d have thought they would hit it off so well? I grinned and moved on to the next painting.
Muted blues and purples splashed across the canvas. The tones relaxed my nerves, allowing my pulse to return to normal. Jabroni had had an adverse effect on me. There was no doubt about it.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Lola move in the direction of the restrooms. They were hidden at the back of the gallery down a corridor with brick walls on either side. Tall leafy plants covered the wall that held a small sign indicating the rooms. Men went to the door at the end of the corridor, women, the first door to the right.
Lola stopped short before she fully turned the corner, her hand fluttering at her throat. She turned around and I could see her face again. Something was wrong. Huge, scared eyes swept the room as Lola searched for me. Her face drained of color, her head tipped, motioning for me to join her. As I crossed the floor, I watched her disappear again behind the brick wall. When I arrived, Lola was kneeling beside the body of a man. A man who did not move.
Jabroni lay on the floor, a knife handle protruding from his shoulder. Blood gushed from the wound. My stomach clenched at the sight of the rich red color. I felt my guts heave while my skin grew clammy. I couldn’t move. I stared in shock at the body for another second or two.
“What the hell?” I muttered and knelt across from Lola, near Jabroni’s side, to check for a pulse. “Call for help, Lola.”
Her dark eyes focused on me, but she didn’t move.
“Lola, call for help, I said.” I shook her shoulder and heard a footstep behind me.
“Did you say something, beautiful?” Aaron’s rich voice asked. When he saw what had our attention, he kneeled next to me, took a look at the body, and rose quickly.
“He’s still alive,” I said.
“Get a rescue here, right now,” Aaron murmured.
I turned from the floor and glanced up at Aaron. With the cell phone clenched in his hand, Aaron’s face was a mask as he spoke into the small unit. Unable to tell if he was angry or what his thoughts were, I turned back to Jabroni. Unconscious and losing blood, he’d grown pale as his life drained from his body.
Lola’s eyes glazed over. She shook her head to clear her thoughts—or so it seemed. Her gaze settled on me and she asked, “Is this what your life is like all the time?”
&
nbsp; With a nod, I stood up, caught Porter’s attention, and motioned for him to come over. Quickly assessing the situation, he took Lola away from Jabroni’s body. She couldn’t seem to move on her own. With his hand on her arm, Porter gently pulled Lola from the scene.
A flurry of activity accompanied the arrival of rescue personnel, hustling through the gallery with a crash kit, a stretcher, and an oxygen bottle. I stepped aside for the crew to scoop the mob boss up from the floor and rush him out the door. A red stain marred the high-end carpet. It was then that my stomach complained again and I rushed into the restroom to throw up.
After I had washed my face, and gotten my wits about me, I headed back into the gallery. Aaron stood in the corridor awaiting my return. His face showed concern for my well-being . . . at least that’s what I hoped it was for.
“Are you all right?” he asked with his hand on my arm.
“Yeah.” I smoothed my hair away from my face and realized I had probably ruined my make-up, my hair-do, and the evening.
“Where is Mrs. Jabroni, do you know?”
My glance rose to his face as I considered the whereabouts of Mrs. Jabroni.
“She’s not in the ladies’ room, Aaron. I haven’t seen her for a while, but I haven’t paid attention either.”
“It wasn’t up to you to watch her. My people should have done that, but they didn’t.” His gaze swept the room. It was a sure bet someone would get their ass chewed out before the night was over. For once, it wouldn’t be me.
“The police have arrived. They’ll want to speak with you and Lola, since you found him.” Aaron’s hand tightened on my arm as he escorted me to the center of the gallery.
Porter Anderson and a couple of detectives I hadn’t met, waited for us to join them. Porter asked Gilda if we could use her office. Her answer was curt and she stared at me with something akin to hatred. How I had become the guilty one, I couldn’t say. I just knew that if looks could kill, Gilda’s would have struck me dead.
When I stepped forward to offer words of comfort, Gilda stiffened. Porter stepped between us. My inner voice started to rant and rave about my safety. Don’t do anything rash, just tell the truth, and stay away from that woman. The police will handle things. Be honest, no lies. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I glanced at Lola and placed an arm around her shoulder as we walked to the office.
Cold Moon Dead Page 14