Cupcakes, Butterflies & Dead Guys (Gianna Mancini Mysteries Book 3)

by Jennifer Fischetto

  He's frozen solid staring at it.

  Suddenly Aunt Stella sits up.

  Enzo gasps and takes a step back. He bumps into the wall.

  Before he gets a chance to try to make sense out of this, Aunt Stella rises to her feet and flies toward him.

  He lets out a blood-curdling scream at a very high pitch.

  The sound causes me to flinch, and I back away in a fit of laughter.

  He looks to me. His brown eyes are huge. His mouth is open wide, as if still in a scream. I don't hear any sound though. Unless I've gone deaf.

  Aunt Stella is cackling. She holds her stomach and starts to visibly shake.

  Enzo looks to her and me and back again. Then it finally clicks. "Aunt Stella?"

  She pulls the shirt off and tosses it onto the floor.

  Enzo's expression is still full of terror. He points to me. "You."

  I laugh harder and run out the front door to my car.

  Aunt Stella meets me there, still laughing.

  As I pull away, Enzo stands in his doorway, and he looks annoyed.

  He's going to get me back good. But that was so worth it.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  When I get home, I'm past the scare and back to thinking about Raina's death, what happened that night, and if Julian's job is involved. I start pacing. Part of me wants to call Julian and ask him to look into Warren's alibi. I know that won't go over well, so I refrain. I pick up my cell and call Izzie instead.

  This time she doesn't sound frazzled when she answers. "Hello?"

  "Hey, it's me. Got a minute?"

  "Sure, I'm eating dinner, but I can talk. What's going on?"

  Dinner. I haven't eaten since lunchtime. I could use food. "Whatcha having?"

  "Frozen cinnamon waffles."

  I scoff. "That's not dinner."

  She laughs softly. "It is when you have a craving."

  I scrunch up my face. I am not a fan of them. There's no flavor. Homemade and fresh are another story though, especially with sweet and tart blueberries, tarter lemon zest, and a drizzle of warm, rich maple syrup. The real stuff. "So, I have a hypothetical situation, and I need to discuss it, but you can't ask for any details."

  She's quiet. I can't tell if she has too much food in her mouth and is trying to chew and swallow or if I've stunned her into silence. "Okay, talk."

  A giggle of relief escapes my mouth. Not complete relief. That can only happen if I spill about Julian's job, and I can't do that. But it's enough relief that I no longer feel my head will shoot off my shoulders, like relieving the pressure when opening a can of soda. It's got to count for something.

  "What do you do when you think your boyfriend is lying by omission about something that's none of your business? It's not personal. It affects his job."

  "If it involves his work, why do you care?"

  "Hey, no details." Leave it to Izzie to try to break the rules.

  "I'm not asking what it's about, just your motivations. Knowing them can help with my answer."

  She's right, but I'm not sure how to answer without giving answers.

  "Okay, well, his silence may cause friction with my job."

  She's quiet again.

  I can practically hear the wheels in her brain spinning. "The event planner job or ghost hunting? It can't be the deli."

  "Hey, no details."

  "Sorry, but one is about your livelihood, and the other is more like a hobby."

  "I take ghost whispering very seriously."

  "No offense. It's just that one pays the bills, and the other doesn't."

  Oh, I see her point. "Okay, well, the hobby."

  Which is much more than a hobby. It's becoming my life. I'm going to love the event planning, and the deli is alright, but if I could solely ghost whisper, I'd be thrilled. I've considered ways to earn a living while doing so, but other than asking for a fee from a dead person's relatives before handing over messages from their loved ones, I can't come up with one. And that one is way too sleezy. Of course, there is reality TV, but do I really want millions of viewers to know what I can do? I'd never have privacy again.

  "As I see it," Izzie says, "you have an option. Put your non-paying but helpful to others job first or your relationship."

  I've already thought of that. I was hoping she'd have insight I don't see. "Does it have to be either or?"

  "If you can live with the possibility that he's lying."

  Can I do that? I should be able to. His job is none of my business. I know this. But for some reason the idea of letting go sounds insurmountable. But maybe it's just a matter of trying harder. It's not like I've given it a good enough try.

  "I know you, sis, and right now you're contemplating if you can make this work without making a choice. To save you some time, let me tell you what I know you'll do."

  I take a deep breath. "Go ahead."

  "You won't be able to live with the uncertainty. If you try, eventually you'll start wondering if he's honest about non-job matters, and that will creep into your relationship. Remember what happened when I believed Paulie was cheating on me?"

  Like I can ever forget. There were tears, a dead body, and nearly prison.

  "But remember. Whatever you decide, I got your back."

  "Thanks, Iz. I appreciate it."

  After we hang up, I immediately dial Julian's number. No time to ponder or second guess myself.

  "Hi," he says in the deep, pop my corn and fry my chicken kinda way.

  Hey, I'm hungry.

  "Hi. I'm wondering if you're free for dinner." I'm not going to pry. I just want to see what life is like being with him and not nagging him for answers.

  "I'd love to. How about Coastal? I can pick you up."

  A real date where he escorts me to my door after and I invite him up? I'm not sure I'm ready for that tonight. Besides, I still want to watch Raina's first two movies.

  "I'll meet you there. Say seven?"

  "Perfect. See you then."

  "Bye." I hang up and stare at the phone. I can do this.

  * * *

  If I thought the first half of Sunday's dinner was awkward and full of tension, it has nothing on sitting across from Julian in a restaurant with linen tablecloths and chandeliers. He arrived a few minutes before me and already ordered drinks, so when the hostess shows me to his table, a margarita on the rocks is waiting for me.

  He stands and holds out my chair. "The server just delivered the drink. I hope I made a good choice."

  I push my chair in further. I don't have a signature drink. I like to mix it up. Anything I've had in the past is a good bet. "Thank you. It's fine."

  He returns to his seat and raises his glass. "To an enjoyable evening."

  I'll definitely drink to that. I click my glass against his and sip the sour goodness. Staring at him in his black suit, white shirt, and baby blue tie makes me feel a bit underdressed in my royal blue pencil skirt and black blouse. I feel like I'm headed to a business meeting. I rarely wear this skirt because it makes my hips look super wide. Plus, the waistband is stiff, and it makes eating uncomfortable. I mentally move my shopping spree higher on my list of tasks.

  We pick up our menus and peruse the items. I decide on the grilled shrimp with veggie kebabs over rice. Our server returns, and we order. Julian settles on the chicken cordon bleu over penne pasta. It sounds delish. When the server leaves, we're left grinning at one another.

  Yep, totally awkward.

  "How is the new job? You haven't talked about the events you already did."

  "They were great. The first was an engagement party over at Chez Suzette. And the second was a retirement party at a law office…"

  I stop short before I bring up Warren Monroe and therefore lead to Raina. No dead bodies tonight.

  He frowns. "Companies hire event planners to throw an office party?"

  I sip my margarita. "One of the lawyers is Warren Monroe, Kelly's husband. You know, Raina Stone's sister. Valentina's father is friends with Wil
ma—uh, Michael's mother's fiancé Fred. She did this and the shower as a favor, but she got paid for the party. Not sure about the shower."

  He raises his brows. I look for a sign that he's uncomfortable bringing up Raina's family, but he's too good to show any. He mostly looks confused. I mentioned a lot of names to faces he doesn't know. "Okay. Well that worked out well for the office."

  "Yeah."

  "What events do you have coming up?"

  "More engagements, a wedding, and a sweet sixteen." I chuckle. "Teens today are different from when I was sixteen. My folks made a bunch of sandwiches, ordered a cake, and held a party in our backyard. The one Valentina and I are planning will be a catered event in a banquet hall with a live band. Much like a wedding."

  He nods and sips his beer. "Guys don't usually have sweet sixteens. I'm not accustomed to them."

  We fall into another awkward silence.

  "How have you been?" I ask. It sounds like such a crap question. Shouldn't I know how he's been? I always knew in he past.

  "Good. Working a lot. There seems to be a flurry of personal injury court cases this time of year, and I'm the lucky one who gets to tail them and make sure they're not faking."

  I snort a giggle. "That doesn't sound like fun."

  "No, it's not. It involves a lot of sitting and waiting."

  We grin at one another and endure the dreaded silence again.

  The server arrives with our food, and I'm grateful for the break in pleasantries. I was never one who liked them. I'm not a cocktail sorta person. Give me a deep conversation any day.

  His pasta and chicken looks scrumptious. He must notice I'm staring at it hard because he grins and asks, "Would you like a taste?"

  "Absolutely." I lean forward and stab my fork into several penne tubes and a small piece of chicken.

  He chuckles. "You don't have to be invited. What's mine is yours."

  My stomach clenches, and the guilt grows. How can I be upset with his need to keep job-related things from me when he'd end up in legal trouble if he doesn't? This isn't about me. It's not about us. And when he says things like this, I should smack myself for doubting him. I'm being selfish.

  But as I tell myself all of this, there's still a niggle at the back of my mind. If I don't find a way to control or ignore it, I don't know where he and I will end up. And I'm afraid Izzie is right. If I find a way to ignore it, how long before I'm suspicious he's lying about other things?

  I push my plate closer to his so he can have a taste.

  He pulls a shrimp and a zucchini chunk off one of the skewers and brings it to his mouth. His eyes light up, and he groans.

  I giggle because he's adorable.

  We're halfway through our meals when he asks, "How was the dinner with Michael?"

  I ignore his stab-in-the-gut tone. "Good. Wilma's decided to go forward with the wedding. She and Fred are cute together. He dotes on her every word."

  "Nice. And Michael?"

  "What about him?"

  "Does he dote on your every word?"

  I look up to see the smile on his face that tells me he's teasing, but it's not there. He's serious. "Of course not. He doesn't think of me that way."

  Of course I don't know how Michael truly feels. But that doesn't matter because I know how I feel, and that should be the important part here.

  We drop it and finish our meal mostly in silence. There's the occasional comment about the food, our drinks, and the restaurant. We even pay attention to a younger couple a few tables over. They're arguing about the man's mother, who is opinionated and bossy.

  "Sounds like Ma," I say with a giggle.

  Julian grins. "I love Ma. She's fierce."

  He's so cute.

  After dinner, Julian walks me to my car. We stand there in more awkwardness for a moment, and then I turn to him. His head lowers, and I shut my eyes as his lips meet mine. It should be a peck, casual because things aren't normal between us. But I grab his shoulder, to prevent him from pulling away, and lean into him, which deepens and becomes much more. It feels right.

  Our tongues meet, and Julian moans. I inwardly smile.

  His hands run down my sides to my hips, and he pulls me closer. Our coats make it difficult to be close enough to him. I want them off, but as I reach to unbutton his in order to snuggle closer, I stop short. If I do that, he'll think I want to end up in bed tonight, and that's not what I want.

  When I pull away, he reaches for me.

  I giggle and open my car door. "Not tonight, buddy. I have a date with Aunt Stella." That's not a full lie. I am hoping she'll stop by for the other movies.

  He smiles. "Give her my best. I'll call you tomorrow." He kisses the tip of my nose and stands there until I pull out of the parking lot.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I reach my apartment, unlock the door, and immediately change into the baby lamb leggings and an oversized white tee. I pour myself a glass of wine from the bottle Julian brought over the other night and settle on the couch with the remote.

  Before turning everything on, I stare at the wall above the TV for a few minutes. The silence is nice. Not having to move or think is nice too. I could do this forever. No, that's not true. I'd get bored after five minutes.

  I get up, grab Raina's second movie, and put it in the DVD player.

  I love the action part of the film—jumping out of a helicopter, surviving in the mountains with only a pocketknife and a sleeping bag, MacGyver style. But I don't connect with Raina's character like I do in her other movies. It may be because she acts cold toward everyone, including the best friend she's trying to save. Add to that the genre. The movie was made three years ago, but it feels like those 1990 movies. The Arnold Schwarzenegger ones, although this one is probably closer to Enemy of the State with Will Smith.

  The movie is almost over, and Aunt Stella never shows up. It's okay. I'm sure she's off with Freezer Dude getting her groove on—or back, as the case may be.

  Raina's character is having the final showdown with the villain. They're in the ocean thrashing around, trying to kill one another, and something catches my eye. I rewind the DVD. What was that? I hit play and watch the villain wrap his hands around Raina's throat. She raises her right arm to knock him away, and there it is again. I hit pause and stare at a weird blur on her inner wrist. What is that?

  Maybe it's the film.

  But something niggles at the back of my mind as if I know it's something else but can't put my finger on it.

  I grab my cell phone and scroll to the shower photos. I go through them all until I find one of Raina at the right angle. There's nothing on her wrist. It's either a glitch or…

  I scroll more and find one of Kelly. I zoom in, and my gut twists. Kelly has a butterfly tattoo on her right wrist. Raina does not. I look to the TV and back to my phone more times than should be necessary for me to believe it.

  It's not Raina in that movie. It's Kelly.

  * * *

  I step back from the bedroom wall over my bed, bumping into the head of my mattress. I don't have a lot of spare room in the apartment, so I pushed my bed up until it hit the dresser, taped sheets of printer paper on my wall, and grabbed a handful of different colored pens. I need to invest in a whiteboard.

  I put Raina's name at the top of one sheet and Kelly's on the next. Then I list things I know about each of them according to Michael, Kelly herself, and Van. Not the most reliable source, but he may have told me something I can actually use. I just have to decipher what it is.

  So far, I know that Kelly starred in the second Raina Stone film. According to Wilma, whom I recently got off the phone with, Kelly never went to visit Raina or anyone else for an extended period of time, never more than a weekend here and there. Which means that Raina was here taking Kelly's place, living her life. Did Raina have a temporary tattoo put on during her time as Kelly? She lived with Warren. Was he in on it, or did the twins change places without telling anyone? He had to know. How can you live with a person and
not know she's your sister-in-law rather than your wife? Actually, that may be easy if she's an actress.

  This could explain Raina's "erratic" behavior that Van spoke of. It makes sense that Raina was hot and heavy for him. Well, that doesn't, but I'm not her. But it makes sense if Raina never told her sister about her relationship with Van, then Kelly takes her place and pushes his advances away, and Van is left confused and thinking Raina is psycho.

  The biggest question I have at the moment is why. Why did they trade places? Maybe Kelly wanted to star in a movie. I would. But if I was the actress and my sister not, would I say okay and run the risk of being discovered? No. That would be my reputation. If paparazzi found out, the fans, they could revolt. Why take that risk? Unless there's another reason they swapped lives.

  The movie was filmed three years ago. At that time…

  I glance at the notes I've made from various conversations. I hope I haven't missed anything. I should find a way to make notes as I learn things rather than compile them later.

  According to Google, the movie was filmed from April through June. The significant event during that time, here in South Shore Beach, was Tessa's birth in May. If Raina was in town during that time, pretending to be Kelly, that means…

  I swallow hard at the realization.

  She's Tessa's mother?

  * * *

  The next morning, I go into the deli early. It's my last day here, so I've decided to pull a double. It gives Izzie extra time to do what she does, and she has no problem giving them up. I want the extra time with Ma and Pop. Plus, there's that whole boot, purse, eye shadow thing. I'm also feeling sad and nostalgic. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not leaving the planet, and I live upstairs. I can come into the deli any time I want.

  The morning goes by painfully slow. The downside is how much my feet will hurt at the end of today. The positive is that it gives me time to think, which is exactly what I need.