"I saw you the other day."
I stop and face him. "What?"
He juts his head toward Van's door. "The other day when you were talking to this jerk. I saw you."
I nod.
"The two of you were talking about that woman who died. The actress."
Now he has me intrigued. I take a couple of steps closer so any other eavesdropping neighbors can't hear us well. "Do you know anything? I can't afford to pay."
"I don't want your money."
Oh, thank goodness. "Okay, then what do you want?"
"Nothing. I heard them arguing. That's all."
It's like the sky cleared up beams of sunshine glitter all over the earth.
"Oh yeah? You mean the man who rents this room and the woman who died?"
He nods.
"What did they say?"
"She yelled that he can't do something anymore. She told him he was fired and that he'd have to find someone else to steal from."
Kelly was right. Van is a thief.
"When was this? When did they argue?"
"The night that woman died."
My insides tense up. This can't be a coincidence.
"How did their argument end?"
"She drove out of here real fast. He ran back inside for a second, and then he left and seemed to follow after her."
Did he catch up to her? And if so, what happened next?
* * *
I pace the length of my living room-slash-kitchenette and back again a trillion times. I can't get the new information out of my head. Raina's death was an accident, but she had an argument with Van. Then she leaves his motel room, and he follows her. That sounds like something the police should know. I doubt Van told them this. What are the chances the neighbor did?
I replay the scenarios in my head. Raina left the motel, went to Kelly's, and, still upset over the fight, she accidentally fell and hit her head. There's the possibility that Van followed her to Kelly's. They argued more, he left, and she accidentally fell and hit her head. The one that bugs me the most is Raina leaving the motel, Van catching up with her at Kelly's, and the two of them physically fighting, resulting in her fall. It wouldn't have been premeditated, but that would still be murder.
Is Enzo right? Do I want Raina's death to be the result of murder? Do I get some kind of thrill over this? Not her death, clearly, but the prospect of figuring it out. I suddenly feel like a horrible person.
Freezer Dude appears in front of me.
I stop short and gasp. Oh, this doesn't make me feel any better. "What are you doing here?"
He looks miserable and opens his mouth.
But before he gets a chance to speak, I shake my head. "No. Stop. Don't say anything. Now is not the time. I can't help you. Come back later."
I expect him to disappear or curl up his lip and say something mean, but he just stands there looking pitiful.
Then Aunt Stella pops in behind him. Of course, because now I have to deal with two ghosts.
Her brows inch close together, and she checks him out from his feet to the top of his head.
He must sense another ghost in the room because he turns around.
Aunt Stella's confused frown fades away. Her eyes widen in disbelief, and slowly a smile spreads across her face.
What's going on? Why does she look like that?
"Mitchell, is that you?"
Mit… She knows him?
"Stella." He takes a step closer and extends his arm. He caresses her face slowly with the care of a loved one.
My stomach rumbles, and I feel a little dizzy. "Okay, seriously, what's going on?"
They grab one another's hands and gaze into each other's eyes. I'm mesmerized by the way they're able to touch each other. If they were solid, it would look like every other hand-holding couple. But being semi-transparent it's freaky and interesting the way their fingers intersect.
The looks on their faces are even more interesting. I don't think I've ever seen Aunt Stella look peaceful or happy. Yeah, she cackles a lot and loves scaring me, but that giddy kind of happiness I've never seen. It's…beautiful.
I snap out of my daze and clear my throat. "Um, excuse me, but you two know one another?"
It's obvious, but I need confirmation.
It takes them a few seconds before they manage to pry their attention away from one another.
Aunt Stella glances at me for a moment. She doesn't seem to want to look anywhere but at him. "Yes, we go way back."
Seriously? They've both been dead forever, and he was in prison for years before that. How?
"I've thought of you every day. When I got back I looked for you but figured you passed on," he says in a tender voice. Who knew he was capable of that emotion?
Her smile is radiant. "I looked for you when I passed. You were still in prison."
So she knew him then.
He caresses her face again. "Where have you been?"
"In Connecticut with my sister and her family."
The word "family" seems to pull him out a bit. He looks my way. "You two know one another?"
Aunt Stella giggles. It's light and airy, and I feel like I've stumbled into a parallel universe. I'm not used to all of this giggling. Where is Aunt Stella's cackle?
"Gianna is my niece."
He stares at me hard. I expect the look to turn cold and hard like usual, but it doesn't. "No wonder I was drawn to you."
Goose bumps break out along my arms and the back of my neck. Wow, our connection is deeper than we ever assumed.
And speaking of assumptions, I'd like to not make any right now because all of the ones flitting across my brain end up with the two of them in some kind of lip lock, and I'd rather not go there. Not with Aunt Stella and any man, but especially not with Freezer Dude.
"You guys were friends?" I ask, hoping and praying they each say yes.
Aunt Stella moans a happy sigh. "Yes."
"I kept every one of your letters," he says to her.
Oh, maybe she was one of those prison groupies. A woman who pen pals a prisoner for reasons I don't understand. No judgment but isn't it easier to have coffee with a guy without shackles?
"I don't know what happened to them," he says.
My guess is the state gave them to his next of kin, which is his daughter. She most likely burned them.
"It's okay. We're here together now."
He nods. "Yes, that's all that matters."
"Well, this is fun," I say. "You guys can continue your friendship. How cool." It is really sweet.
Aunt Stella does that freaky giggle thing again. It's going to take a long while for me to get used to that. At least it's better than the cackle. "Oh, we were more than friends."
Oh no, I don't want to hear this. Before I can plug my ears with my fingers though, she says, "We were lovers."
Oh gross!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I fling open the front door to Ma and Pop's house and march inside. I don't normally storm into anyone's home. Well, as a teenager I stormed and marched and stomped often enough in this house, but I was young, petulant, and highly dramatic. Not sure I've changed much. Now, however, my reasons are not hormonal. Unfortunately, I can't say that I don't feel like my head's going to explode, so I pay little attention to the people at the kitchen table.
Ma's at the fridge, and I focus solely on her.
"You tried to keep Aunt Stella and Freezer Dude apart?" I shout.
She flinches at my volume and then frowns. "What are you yelling about?"
"Aunt Stella said that you forbade her to have contact with Freezer…um, Mitchell Young after he went to prison. They were in love. How could you do that? Why?"
Ma lets out an exasperated sigh. "You don't have the details."
"Then tell me." I place both of my hands on my hips. I don't usually demand answers from Ma. She is my mother, and I have mucho respect, but this is too much. According to Aunt Stella, this is the reason they fought, the reason Ma didn't attend her
own sister's funeral. All over a guy. A guy. They were family, and family always takes precedence over guys.
"He was a criminal. That should be reason enough. He robbed banks and stores for a living. That wasn't a life for my sister." She shuts the fridge door and walks to the sink.
I follow but stand on the other side of the breakfast bar, with my back to the table. "Yeah, I know all about him. Believe me, I wish I didn't, but that was her life. You didn't have a right…"
Ma turns her head and practically growls. "I had every right. She was my sister, and if you don't have family looking out for you, who do you have?"
"Yourself," I whisper, feeling the fight inside me dwindle because of Ma's rage.
She scoffs. "Don't stand there and act like you wouldn't move the earth to help your sister."
I flash back a couple of months ago when Izzie was a murder suspect. I did what I could to clear her name, including almost dying, but it's not the same. I upset my life, not hers, to help her.
"But you saw how upset Aunt Stella was. The two of you had many arguments. Didn't her feelings matter?"
"Not with this. A little heartache was better than…"
Is she for real? "Than what? Death? That happens anyway, Ma. You can't go through life avoiding pain."
"He was a criminal. What part of that don't you understand?"
Oh, I get it loud and clear. He's also a jerk, but I don't want to add fuel to Ma's fire.
"All I know is that she spent her last years miserable, and it was partly your doing."
Ma turns on the water to wash her hands and shakes her head. "No, I don't accept that. She didn't have to listen to me."
My mouth gapes open. "You're kidding. Do you know how you get when you want something? Relentless. It's easier to give in than fight you."
"That's absurd. When have I ever?"
"Julian. You are adamant about Julian and me marrying and giving you grandkids, and he and I have almost spent equal times not dating as we have dating. You don't know if he's the right man for me. You know very little about him."
She finishes washing and grabs the towel. She faces me with a deep frown. "He's here every Sunday. I've gotten to know him."
Ha, if she only knew he was the reason Izzie wasn't cleared for murder sooner. "You know what's on the surface. You don't know everything. We all hide things from people because it's easier, and well, some things are private."
The more I talk the more I realize I'm digging myself a hole. I shut up. "I'm just saying that you push and push."
She arches her brows. "I do it out of love."
"I know that, and Aunt Stella knows that, but it doesn't hurt any less."
Ma tosses the towel onto the counter. She doesn't want to hear this. I can tell by the scowl on her face. "Why is this coming up now anyway?"
"Because she finally told me why you guys were feuding."
"That's what she said? Feuding?"
Among other things I won't repeat.
"Well, she doesn't remember it clearly. If you knew this man…"
"I do, and yes, he's kinda scary looking and gruff, but he's not a serial killer." I realize I'm not helping my argument. But as much as I don't want to invite Freezer Dude to an afternoon of tea and crustless sandwiches, he has helped me with my cases. He even helped save my, Enzo's, and Julian's lives. That has to count for something. So I mention it.
"He was the one who saved us when, well, that night at Enzo's." My brother made me promise to not talk about that night, and I take that pinky swear very seriously.
Ma's eyes widen. "He's here? Mitchell Young?"
"Not at the moment but yeah, he came back." I'm not sure how much to tell Ma. Do I mention he's the ghost that yanked me toward him when I died? Do I let her know that he's been body jumping because he wants to return to the land of the living? I don't know how much she can take, especially with that look of terror forming on her face.
"Sorry, I think I've said too much." I bite the inside of my cheek.
Someone clears their voice behind me. "Yeah, probably."
I spin around to see not only Enzo but Pop and Aunt Angela as well. Oh boy!
The three of them are at the table finishing dessert. It looks like it was Pop's favorite, cheesecake. Yum! This isn't the time for that, Gianna. Focus.
Aunt Angela's face is beyond pale. She looks like Casper. "What's going on?"
"Way to go, sis," Enzo says.
I open my mouth to find a way to explain it, but I'm tired of lying. Instead, I glance to Ma and nod.
Just then Aunt Stella appears. She's alone, and Ma must notice the direction of my glance because she asks, "Is she here?"
I nod.
"Is who here?" Aunt Angela's voice rises and cracks. She's scared, and I don't blame her. She has to be picking up on what we're saying. For her this must mean that either the unthinkable is real or she's the only sane one in a house of nuts.
Ma fills Aunt Angela in on my abilities—from dying as a kid to now and all of the ghosts in between. Well, I fill them in on all of the ghosts. They were never aware how many I've seen cross over. This includes Aunt Stella and how she's been shacking with her sister and family all of these years.
When I'm done, everyone is staring at me in disbelief. Even Aunt Stella.
"Wow, kid," Aunt Stella says. "You've been through a lot."
I half-smile, knowing this is her way of offering me a hug.
Pop rubs his forehead with his meaty hand.
Enzo leans back in his chair and lets out a soft whistling sigh.
Ma grabs onto the counter to steady herself, and Aunt Angela looks slightly paler than before. I wouldn't think that's possible.
After several more seconds of silence, Aunt Stella looks from one sister to another and shouts, "Get over yourselves."
I flinch, which Ma notices, so I repeat my aunt's command.
Aunt Stella points to Ma. "She should've stayed out of my business. If I wanted to date Ted Bundy, I could. And you…" She turns to Aunt Angela, which gives me a second to repeat her words.
"You should dump Franco. He's a jerk and was never good enough for you."
Ma quirks a brow. It doesn't escape me that Aunt Stella is doling out relationship advice, not much unlike what Ma did to her.
Aunt Angela gasps. At first it looks like she's about to start crying, but she sucks back the sob and says, "She has no room to talk. She's in love with a criminal."
Aunt Stella huffs and disappears.
Well, this was fun.
* * *
The next morning at the deli, business is super slow. Snow has been steadily falling for the past thirty minutes. The flakes are small and slow, but I've no doubt it'll be a sticky mess. I sadly think of my boots.
Ma's at the other side of the counter, wiping down invisible fingerprints or dust. She likes to keep busy. I would drag out a stool from the kitchen and sit on it while liking and sharing Facebook posts on my cell, if she'd allow it. She doesn't. She feels it looks tacky. I get it, but we haven't seen a customer for twenty minutes. Ham and Swiss on rye doesn't seem necessary during a snowstorm.
Tomorrow is my first event with Valentina. I keep having to remind myself. With everything going on, it's easy to forget. The added bonus is that when I do remember, I get excited all over again.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me that Mitchell was around," Ma says while frantically scrubbing the heck out of nothing.
I wondered when she'd bring it up.
Normally I work second shift, which means I arrive as Izzie's leaving and only see Ma a few minutes before Pop shows up. Thursday is one of Izzie's days off. I come in a little earlier than usual. I have another hour before Ma and Pop play musical shifts.
I half expected her to mention Aunt Stella as soon as I walked in the door, but she didn't. After Aunt Stella disappeared from Ma's kitchen yesterday, the subject died down. Not because everyone was done talking about it, I'm sure, but because Aunt Angela was stunned. I didn'
t want to contribute to her passing out or having a heart attack, and I guess the others felt the same way.
Enzo quickly said his good-byes, and I took that opportunity to sneak out with him.
"You have nothing to say?" Ma asks.
I shut my eyes for a moment to clear my head. I don't want to get into another argument with her. "I'm sorry. But in my defense, I didn't know he was someone from Aunt Stella's past. I was shocked to find that out."
Ma seems moderately pleased that this hasn't been a conspiracy against her. "And he came back? How does that happen?"
I shrug. I've contemplated this many times, but I'm not an expert. And I've no idea who makes the rules.
She nervously glances over her shoulder toward the door that leads to the kitchen. I assume she's thinking of all the dead people who have walked past her and Pop on the way to the freezer. She's not usually squeamish or scared easily. She's a Mama Bear and has a basement full of items that once belonged to murder victims and-slash-or their killers. But maybe this is too much, too real, and I shouldn't have told her.
"How's Aunt Angela?"
Ma finally stops scrubbing, stands straight, and lets out a deep breath. "I spent the night getting the cold shoulder."
That must be a family trait because Ma is famous at giving them out as gifts as well.
Guilt weighs heavily on me, like a stiff, new turtleneck. "I didn't tell you guys about all the ghosts and Freezer Dude coming back because I didn't want to lay it on you. I thought it would be better if you didn't know. It has to be harder when you can't see them. You'll never know if one was here at any given moment."
Ma glances around. "Is anyone else here now?"
"No."
She eyes me hard. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
She relaxes her shoulders. "I understand why you felt it necessary to not discuss it. I just want you out of this."
"Out of what?"
She waves her hand toward the kitchen door. "This ghost business. It's not safe to get involved with their deaths."
"Ma, this is who I am. I can't not see them. There is no switch to turn it off and on."
"But you don't have to help them."
Cupcakes, Butterflies & Dead Guys (Gianna Mancini Mysteries Book 3) Page 11