Killer Beach Reads

by Gemma Halliday Publishing

  I longed to spend the day painting, plus my appliances were supposed to arrive in the morning. Yet there was no way I would ever refuse my grandmother anything. I owed her too much to even consider that.

  "Sure," I said. "I'll call Alana right now. Do you want to come with me to say good-bye to her?"

  My grandmother shook her head. "I told Josie I would come to her house and show her how to make the genettis."

  "But Josie and I are painting tomorrow," I objected.

  "Gianna will help you paint. The cookies are the most important thing to your new shop, and they must come first. Remember that. If we finish soon enough, I will come over to say good-bye to Alana. I made an extra cheesecake for her, just in case."

  "And if she's already gone, we get to eat it, right?" Gianna asked.

  She laughed and patted my sister's cheek. "Do not worry. I always take care of my beautiful girls. Tell Alana to look in the cellar for the photos. After we get the pictures we will talk to Lorenzo."

  Gianna shook her head vigorously. "Count me out. I'll stay at the shop. I have no interest in seeing his bachelor pad. He probably films pornos there."

  Grandma Rosa sighed. "If he does not cooperate, then we will go to the police."

  "Why not turn him in now?" Gianna asked.

  When my grandmother didn't answer, I glanced from her to my sister. "There's something you're not telling us."

  Grandma Rosa waved a hand dismissively and ignored my question. "I have made stuffed peppers and a nice green salad. Gianna, set the table."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The next morning, I was awake at six o'clock. After some quick coffee and toast, I was out the door and on the way to my new bakery. My freezer and ovens were delivered at eight. Gianna met me shortly afterward, and we began painting. The morning flew by, and before I knew it, the noon hour had arrived. I'd agreed to meet Alana at one and hurried to wash up in order to get to my aunt's house on time. Gianna assured me she would meet the deliverymen who had called to say they were on their way with my furniture.

  I drove off regretfully. I'd almost been tempted to call Alana and tell her to just leave the pictures for me to pick up later, but I had promised my grandmother. Oh well. This shouldn't take long.

  I pulled my reliable green Corolla up behind Alana's Ford station wagon. I was sorry for the poor woman. For thirty years she'd been living in a nearby apartment, cooking and cleaning for my disagreeable aunt. There was plenty of room at Luisa's house and it would have been a huge help and savings to Alana if my aunt had let her move in. I wasn't aware of the exact circumstances, but I knew Luisa liked her privacy. Then again, maybe Alana didn't want to live with her either. It wasn't my place to ask. Still, I doubted the woman had much money and hoped she could find work and be happy in the new life she was about to embark on.

  Alana was waiting inside the door for me. She smiled, then closed and locked the door right behind me.

  "Are there any more showings scheduled?" I asked, wondering if she was afraid the realtor might barge in.

  She shook her head, and I followed her up the stairs to Aunt Luisa's sitting room. "None that I know of. After today, that's your grandmother's problem."

  Alana sounded bitter. The last time I'd visited she'd seemed depressed and remorseful. Maybe she was having a bad day. Or perhaps she was angry my aunt had left everything to Grandma Rosa. Not that it amounted to a great deal. Grandma didn't expect much money from the sale of the house either. She said the mortgage wasn't even paid off. Luisa kept extending it by taking out home equity and personal loans. What she did with the money, I had no idea. She certainly hadn't used it for upkeep on the house.

  "How did you make out?" I asked. "Did you find any pictures of the teapot?"

  Alana shook her head. "Not even one."

  I drew my eyebrows together in confusion. Something wasn't adding up here. "But Grandma said there are some."

  She shrugged. "Maybe your aunt destroyed them. Who knows?"

  "What about the appraisal?" I asked. "Can you find it for me? That's all I would need."

  An angry look passed over Alana's face, leaving me bewildered. She opened her mouth to reply as my cell phone rang.

  I smiled at Alana. "Excuse me for a second. Hello?"

  "Is this Sally Muccio?" A male voice with a deep southern drawl asked.

  "Yes, speaking."

  "Hi there. Ben Silvers here. My associate George said you were in the shop yesterday and claimed the Vezzi antique teapot I recently bought was stolen?"

  "That's right. It belonged to my aunt. She passed away a couple of weeks ago."

  There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. "I see. Of course I want to cooperate in full, but you'll need to provide proof of ownership."

  "I'm working on that right now," I said. "But can you tell me who you bought it from at least?"

  He sniffed on the other end. "This is highly irregular, but the name of the woman who sold it to me was Laura Bridges. She had a driver's license on her. It was faded, but looked like her."

  The name didn't do anything for me. "It doesn't sound familiar. Can you tell me what she looked like?"

  Ben cleared his throat. "Perhaps she was using an alias. Yes, I did view the tape. Elderly woman, maybe about sixty. Salt and pepper hair with a chunky build. She had a huge wart on her forehead too."

  Oh my God.

  The words stuck in my throat. I swallowed several times and finally managed to force them out. "Um, are you sure?"

  He snorted. "Of course I'm sure."

  Ben kept rambling on, but I was no longer listening. A wave of terror spread through my body. I raised my eyes to find Alana's bearing straight into mine. The expression on her face had changed. Gone was the warmth and understanding. The eyes that stared back at me now were cold, calculating—and royally pissed. She was aware I knew.

  Alana had stolen the teapot. Had she killed Aunt Luisa as well?

  My mouth was dry as sawdust, but I gave a valiant effort to try to throw her off the track as I continued on with my phone conversation. "Uh, yes. At least three-dozen cookie trays to start. Thank you so much for—um, your time."

  "What the heck are you talking about?" Ben asked in an annoyed voice.

  I mumbled a hasty good-bye and clicked off, while saying a silent prayer inside my head. You can do this, Sal. If you can just get out of this house and away from her, everything will work itself out.

  "Who was that?" Alana asked.

  I choked out a laugh. "Um, would you believe it? All of my supplies for my new bakery are going to be delivered tomorrow."

  Her lips curled upward into a smirk. "Wow. What are the chances?"

  "I know, right?" I picked up my purse. "Well, I promised to help Grandma Rosa with some baking this afternoon. Have a great trip, and please be sure to keep in touch."

  I started for the landing, but was yanked by my ponytail and thrown to the floor. Astonished, I looked up to see Alana bending over me, brandishing a kitchen knife she'd produced from her pocket.

  She spoke in a deep voice I no longer recognized. "Don't bullshit me, Sally. I know you know."

  My facial expressions had always been my downfall. "Know what?"

  She smiled. "You're not a very good actress, but I'll give you credit for trying." She moved a step closer.

  A small trickle of sweat rolled down my spine as I inched myself backward on the floor. I tried to stand, but she pushed me back down with such force I hit my head on the corner of Aunt Luisa's wooden coffee table.

  "Ugh." I groaned. That was going to leave a mark. Alana was like a bull pumped up on steroids. I remembered hearing about the times she had carried Aunt Luisa from the living room to her bedroom when she had taken ill. Luisa had never been a lightweight either.

  Alana's eyes glowered while I tried to control the rising panic inside me. "I sold the teapot. It should have been mine anyway. For thirty years I worked for that ungrateful bitch. Hardly ever a raise and never a kind word. I
should have left years ago."

  "Why didn't you?" I could see my cell phone sticking out of my purse underneath Aunt Luisa's chair, where it had landed during my fall. Only a few feet away. If I could somehow manage to reach it. I crept forward slightly.

  Alana didn't seem to notice. "I don't have any skills. I was a cashier years ago at a mom-and-pop grocery store. That's how I met your aunt. She seemed nice, and I thought it would be fun to keep house for someone. Make my own hours."

  She fingered the knife in her hand and snickered. "What a fool I was. I got even though. I've been ripping her off for years. Time and time again, I'd lift a fifty or a twenty out of her purse. And I always timed it so it would be right after that loser Lorenzo came to visit. So, of course, she always thought he was the one." She started giggling. "Luisa never said a word to me."

  The bile rose in the back of my throat as I suddenly realized what had happened. "You pushed her down the stairs, didn't you?"

  Her face became impassive as she nodded. "It was all her fault. She told me she'd changed her will, and I wasn't getting the teapot. Said she was going to leave it to your grandmother. That low-life hag."

  I waited for her to go on, inching forward again. I glanced at the doorway. Was there a way to get away from this crazy woman without having a knife land in my back?

  Alana's nostrils flared. "She stood at the top of the staircase, laughing at me. I swear I thought she was going to rupture something. She wouldn't stop. All I could hear was that cackling in my head! I couldn't stand it anymore so I reached out—and pushed her."

  She stood there, her left hand outstretched as if she was reenacting the scene. Her right continued to clutch the knife tightly as I held my breath. "Luisa screamed, and when she landed at the bottom, she clutched her chest, muttered something in Italian, and went blessedly silent. For the first time in her life, she was quiet. Ah, what a beautiful moment."

  Bone-chilling fear engulfed my body. This woman was not just an angry, resentful housekeeper—she was a total psycho.

  Alana's lips twisted into an evil-looking smile. "So there you have it. The true story your granny was after. Except you'll never get the chance to tell her."

  "You don't want to kill me." I tried to remain calm even as my heart continued to thump against the wall of my chest. "Everyone will know it was you."

  "Who cares? They'll be looking for poor, pitiful Alana. Not my alias."

  "Laura Bridges?" I tried to rise again, but she lifted the knife in warning. Having no choice, I sank back to the floor.

  Alana's mouth dropped opened in surprise. "They told you that too, huh? Well, no matter. I'll take the bus out of the city and buy myself a car with your miserable auntie's money. In a few days I'll be in Mexico, and they'll never find me."

  "How much did you get for the teapot?" I asked. "That won't last you long."

  "I only got thirteen thousand. I know it's worth twice that, but there was no guarantee they'd get a buyer, so that's all they were willing to pay me. No matter. I lifted a few other little trinkets as well while packing. Not worth as much, but thanks to eBay, they'll provide some much needed income." Her hostile eyes observed me. "I never dreamed anyone would look for it at My Antique World. Just my luck to have a pain in the ass like you show up."

  I was trying to restrain the retort making its way out of my mouth when Alana whirled her head toward the doorway. "What was that?"

  Gingerly, I touched the back of my head and made a face. "I didn't hear anything."

  Alana's jaw set in a determined manner as her eyes darted around. "I know I locked the front door. Maybe it's just a mouse. Don't move, or you're dead." She backed out of the room, keeping her eyes fixated on me, the knife raised in warning.

  I was just reaching for my phone when I heard a loud splat! Then Alana shrieked.

  I grabbed my cell and got to my feet, a bit unsteady at first. I dialed 9-1-1 and walked toward the doorway, where I heard Alana crying. My heart stuttered as I peered around the corner toward the landing and immediately burst out laughing.

  Grandma Rosa was standing there, holding the knife, while Alana sat on the floor, trying desperately to wipe cheesecake out of her eyes. Her face and hair were covered in a mixture of ricotta cheese, while tiny pieces dotted the hardwood floor around her.

  "Sixty-nine Phillips Street," I told the 9-1-1 operator. "Please hurry. A woman just tried to kill me."

  "Pazza," Grandma Rosa mumbled at the weeping Alana.

  I glanced regretfully at the cake. "Too bad. That looked awesome."

  My grandmother switched the knife to her left hand and tapped her right index finger to the side of her head. "I crept up the stairs, and neither one of you heard me. I had a feeling something was not right. I am a good Nanny Drew, yes?" she asked proudly.

  I kissed her cheek and grinned. "The best, but you mean Nancy."

  She nodded. "Yes, that is what I said."

  CHAPTER NINE

  "Yes, I always suspected there was something wrong with her," Grandma Rosa said. "I could never figure out what it was though."

  I glanced up from the plate of tiramisu I was busy devouring. "What made you think that? She always seemed normal to me."

  My grandmother snorted as she sliced another piece of cake. "Alana worked for your aunt for thirty years. There had to be something wrong with her. No normal person could stand Luisa for that long." She quickly made the sign of the cross on her chest. "Rest her soul."

  "Rest her soul," my mother echoed.

  "Lorenzo had nothing to do with this," I said. "So why was he threatening Aunt Luisa? Or was that a lie that Alana fabricated too?"

  Grandma Rosa glanced around the cherry wood dining room table. My entire family and Josie were seated. We'd just finished dinner, topped off with my grandmother's tiramisu. In my opinion, the rich, pudding-like cake ran a close second to her ricotta cheesecake.

  The fact that a cheesecake had saved my life earlier only endeared the dessert more to me.

  Grandma sighed heavily as she passed a second piece of cake to my father. "The time has come to tell you all the truth."

  "Oh God," Dad groaned. He glanced up from his plate and looked at my mother. "Please tell me Lorenzo's not your brother, or something twisted like that."

  Mom smiled and turned to her mother. "Not that I recall. You would have told me if I had a brother, wouldn't you?"

  "Lord in heaven." Grandma Rosa muttered something in Italian and shook her fist at both of them. "He was Luisa's boy."

  We all sat in stunned silence for a minute.

  "Get the heck out," Josie said.

  My father grunted. "So that explains his mental issues."

  Gianna gave a little squeak of distress. "Oh my God. Grandma, are you telling me I went out on a date with my cousin? He kissed me, for crying out loud!"

  Dad banged his fist on the table. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

  "Lorenzo always had such lovely manners," my mother sighed. "I never would have dreamed he was a pervert."

  My father nodded at her. "Your side of the family."

  "Wait a second," I interrupted. "How come you never told anyone about this? Why the big secret all these years?"

  Grandma Rosa's face was somber. "Luisa had an affair while she was married to your great-uncle and got pregnant. It almost destroyed their marriage. I really think Antonio was more concerned with the fact that people would know he was the reason they could not have children. He had the bumps as a child."

  Josie wrinkled her nose. "You mean mumps?"

  Grandma Rosa nodded. "That is what I said. It would have been a huge insult to his male pride."

  "Oh brother." Josie rolled her eyes at the ceiling.

  My father snorted in approval. "Makes sense to me."

  Gianna kicked me under the table. As much as I loved my father, he was old school Italian, and this behavior seemed appropriate to him.

  "Antonio wanted her to put the baby up for adoption, and she refused
. Then he told her she must choose between the baby and him. As it happened, his brother and wife could not have any children, and longed for one. When Lorenzo was born, he was given to them. I guess at some point they must have told the boy Luisa was his real mother."

  "That explains why she always gave him cash," Josie said.

  Grandma Rosa took a long sip of her espresso. "I guess Luisa finally had enough of his taking money from her. Maybe she knew she was going to die soon. When you are old, you look at things differently. What seemed so important before, has no significance now."

  I reached out to grab her hand in mind, and she squeezed it reassuringly. "No worries, cara mia. Sometimes it is good to be old."

  Gianna's face filled with horror. "Did he know when we went out—I mean—that we were cousins?"

  My grandmother cradled Gianna's face between her hands. "I am not sure. I did tell my sister I thought it was a terrible idea. Besides, what if Lorenzo had known then and told you? But Luisa, she laughed at me and said, oh, they will just be friends. It is fine. That was the last time I ever trusted anything that came out of her mouth." She made the sign of the cross. "Rest her soul."

  "Rest her soul," we all repeated.

  "She did not want anyone to ever know about the baby," Grandma Rosa continued. "She was ashamed. As well she should have been."

  My mother made a little cooing sound and rose from her chair to sit on my father's lap. "Why a woman would ever need more than one man, I'll never know." She put her arms around Dad's neck while he bussed her cheek. "Your father's more than enough for me."

  "He is more than enough for all of us," my grandmother grumbled.

  Gianna wrinkled her nose. "Ew. Mom, no one wants to see this."

  My mother and father rose from the table and he gave her a playful slap on the bottom. "Come on, honey. Let's go upstairs and—see what's on the boob tube."

  "What a great idea." Mom giggled as they walked out of the kitchen with their arms around each other.