by Zoey Kane
“You look good,” he said.
“Thanks... so do you.” Why was Tony Santino here sitting in her living room? She might have grown up with the boy Tony. But she sure didn’t know who the man Tony was.
A way to find out was simply to catch up. The brief small talk proved to be just that. Brief. Tony revealed he also had a dog, Jade, a Great Dane. They had been hopping from one auto shop to the next, repairing motorcycles. Gia briefly touched upon her blog and moving into her new apartment. Soon, their light conversation formed into a bubble of thick, awkward silence. They both looked anywhere but each other.
Tony had a vague idea as to how he wanted to begin. Now sitting just inches from the adorable brunette, his mind drew a blank.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
That was easy, Tony thought, and got straight to the point. “G, I need your help.”
“With what?” she asked, incredulous.
“The woman they found in the alley was murdered, and the cops suspect I did it,” he said.
Gia’s guard instantly went up. Jennie’s comment about what Tony had been doing during his absence popped into her head. Suddenly, the inked barbed wire on his arms looked menacing. But if Petey could risk falling on his furry butt to jump two feet off the floor to crawl into his lap, why shouldn’t she?
Take the risk, that is. Not crawl into Tony’s lap.
“I did not kill that woman, G,” he insisted.
Slowly, Gia responded, “I heard she was seen getting out of your truck.”
“She did. Let me explain.” Tony had already moved into his uncle’s house and went back into the city to retrieve his motorcycle from a buddy. He was on his way out when the woman asked for a ride to Greenville. Since Tony was headed that way, he had no problem giving the woman a lift.
“What was her name?” Gia asked.
Tony shrugged. “I asked, but she didn’t say. Wasn’t in a talking mood." Over time, Tony had learned to pick up on people's emotions, figure out whether someone was lying, and determine their actions. Tony hadn't trusted anybody in his new school or at the jobs he had worked. No one. He survived and managed to avoid fights by using his skills.
“Did she even tell you where she needed to go once reaching Greenville?”
“Not specifically,” Tony frowned. “Just to drop her off wherever I was going. I was headed to Triple B’s for a drink. She was okay with that and didn’t talk for the rest of the ride.”
“Odd.” Gia also frowned. Maybe the woman eventually would meet up with some friends?
Beside her, Tony leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "I know we haven't spoken in some time, and it's crazy for me to ask you to get involved, but—"
“There’s no one else that truly knows you,” Gia interrupted. “Like I do.”
Tony looked away, his frown growing deeper. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking. The look of a big scary dude, a troubled past, and a murderer for a father—people would have no issue pointing the finger at him. And since Tony was the last to see the victim alive, the cops would be breathing down his neck. Too bad for them.
Gia would jump two feet off the floor to prove them wrong. “I’ll help you.” She prayed she hadn’t made the wrong decision.
<<<>>>
The next morning, Jennie texted Gia, asking her cousin if she would meet her at Sweeney’s Café for a quick breakfast before work. One step inside the busy cafe, Gia immediately fell in love. The early-morning chatter reminded her of birds chirping in the trees, awake and full of energy. Inside, it smelled of cinnamon, oats, and fresh berries. The walls were painted a light blue, and large windows overlooked the main street. The additional section of the cafe had floor-to-ceiling windows and French doors leading to a patio, inviting guests to sit at wrought-iron tables and chairs. That’s where Gia was greeted by her cousin and a cup of coffee.
“The lady with the breakfast cart will be right back,” Jennie said. “She had to restock the muffins.” She kept tapping her nails across the table and bobbing her knee.
“What’s wrong?” Gia asked, noticing her cousin’s nervousness.
“It’s Caleb.”
“Your detective boyfriend.” Gia smiled, taking a sip from her cup. Delicious.
Jennie rolled her eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“You sure about that?” Gia said, brows raised.
Jennie threw her hands up, exasperated. “Okay, so late last night he declared his love to me, but I’m so not ready for that.”
Gia leaned back in amusement. “Your mom told my mom that this morning Caleb changed his Facebook relationship status from ‘single’ to ‘in a relationship’… with you!”
“Ugh, men. They always want to move too fast.” Jennie flipped some blond locks. “I told him I’m not going to be exclusive. But now who doesn’t know I’m dating him?”
“Uh, polar bears in the North Pole, maybe?”
“For now!” she groaned.
Jennie and Gia’s mothers are sisters, acting as matriarchs for both the Peterson and Rizzo families. After seeing the Facebook post, Gia’s mother Sherry was impressed to find out her sister’s only daughter was dating a high-ranking officer. Word spread throughout the whole Rizzo clan. This brought an hour-long lecture from Sherry letting her daughter know she wasn’t getting any younger and that Sherry would like to play with her grandkids while her hips were still her own and not made of titanium.
“Anyways, it’s not our relationship status I wanted to discuss,” Jennie said. “It’s this new case Caleb is on. The body that was found last night.”
An older woman wearing a light-blue apron and pushing a small cart stopped at their table. “Good morning! Would you like to try our cinnamon oat muffins? Fresh out of the oven.”
Jennie nodded to Gia. “Yes, two please.”
The lady distributed the golden-brown delicacies on blue napkins featuring the café’s name in fancy writing. When Jennie and Gia were alone again, Gia told her cousin to continue.
“Caleb is getting pressured by town officials to move fast on making an arrest.”
The muffins were larger than Gia had ever seen before, and she broke hers apart before popping the moist and fluffy goodness into her mouth. Bursts of spicy cinnamon and sweetened oats danced on her tongue. “What’s the rush?” Gia asked. “Surely they don’t want any mistakes.”
“You’re right. But it doesn’t matter when all the evidence is leading to one individual.” Jennie leaned closer. “They want Caleb to arrest Tony.”
Gia jerked back as if she’d been slapped. What evidence? “They don’t have anything on him!” Gia stopped to stuff a piece of muffin in her mouth. Unfortunately, the taste was wasted. Talking about murder while trying to eat was a horrible combination.
“He was the last person seen—”
“That’s not evidence. That’s just coincidence,” Gia insisted.
“Is it, Gia? Is it?” Jennie cocked an eyebrow.
“Repeating your words for emphasis is not helping.”
“Well, listen to these words: Tony doesn’t have much time. I know you two used to be close before his father’s arrest—”
Gia snorted. Did those town officials shake their heads and say, “Like father, like son?”
“—and I can see you still care for him. And if you believe he’s innocent, then so do I.” That was exactly it. When it came down to it, Gia believed Tony was innocent, and if that ended up not being the case, well, she’d deal with it. Somehow.
“What about Caleb?” Gia asked.
Jennie waved her hand. “I know he’ll do what’s right. Caleb isn’t intimated by those old farts.”
“Has he figured out who the woman was?” A name would definitely help.
Jennie nodded and leaned closer again, not wanting to be overheard. “Her name was Amanda Nelson. Caleb mentioned something about having the medical examiner confirm it, but he could clearly see Amanda had been strangled to death.”
A gust of cool wind caused Gia to shudder. “How was it obvious?” she asked. “Did the killer leave behind a rope? Scarf? What did Caleb say?”
“He wouldn’t tell me. But when he was in the shower, I went through his briefcase and found the crime-scene photos,” Jennie admitted.
Gia smirked at her younger cousin. “You’re really nosy. That’s something our mothers would do,” she said.
Jennie faked being insulted, smiled innocently, and continued. “From what I saw, there wasn’t anything seen next to the body. A close-up photo showed these big, ugly, red and purple marks on her neck.” She shivered. “At one angle the marks looked like part of a hand.”
“So it’s possible the killer strangled Amanda... with his bare hands.”
<<<>>>
Gia and Jennie went their separate ways. Gia drove toward the Greenville Inn, where her new job at In The Box bistro was located in a cobblestone courtyard. The bistro specialized in gourmet hot dogs, paninis, sliders, and oven-baked fries. Gia especially liked how In The Box had a gluten-free and vegan menu. Some of her readers with celiac disease or those who preferred a different diet would appreciate knowing there was a place they could enjoy.
Gia approached the restaurant and silently thanked the universe for giving Jennie a job—then recommending his boss give her a chance to become a full-time employee—because the small restaurant was just yards away from the beautiful lake. Hot dogs and a picturesque view. Perfect.
By the door stood a chalkboard sign that read: New hot dogs for the season! Try our grilled pineapple and teriyaki dog! Beneath it, someone had drawn a very realistic-looking hot dog and its toppings. Gia took a quick picture of the charming display.
“Hey, you must be the new-hire,” a petite man said in a dry tone, approaching. He had a wave of purple hair, like a horse mane, shaved around the sides. “The name’s Julian, but you can call me Night Sparkles. Get in here,” he said. “The drama has already begun.”
“Ooookay,” Gia responded, a little taken aback.
The bistro was just as appealing as it was outside. Industrial, exposed piping, aged brick walls where black and white photos of happy customers mingled with recent photos, and cognac wooden tables chairs filled the checkered floor. Those tables and chairs would soon be filled once it was time to open.
Julian brought them to behind the long serving counter. "Take a look around," he gestured. She did and noticed four other people wearing red shirts (employees) who were visibly upset.
A round woman whispered furiously with a thin middle-aged man. Both glanced at the front door every few seconds. Another man, in his early twenties, paced beside a table, wringing his hands. The fourth, an elderly lady wearing a black apron, peered over her spectacles at a fashion magazine, oblivious to her coworker’s antics.
“They look—”
“Scared?” Julian said, combing a hand through his flop of hair. “They kinda are. Sal, the owner and boss, just called and said he’s on a big boat, sipping margaritas with a woman whose boobs could be used as a floatation device.” He grimaced.
“Hmm, sorry I missed him.” Gia wrinkled her nose.
“Yeah, he’s great. He also said to expect his nephew, our now new boss, this morning.”
"Who is—?" The little silver bell chimed. Gia's eyebrows nearly touched her hairline. "Him."
Tony glanced around the small restaurant, then at his new employees. They seemed prepared enough. Except for the kid who looked like he had to go pee. Tony ignored his quickening heart when his eyes met Gia’s. “All right. Hello, everyone—” he started.
The nervous young man tore off his name tag, throwing it to floor, then dashed out of the bistro, yelling over his shoulder, “I QUIT!”
Gia couldn’t believe it. Were these people really scared to have Tony as their boss? A possible murderer in their eyes.
Tony was thinking the same and faced the remaining five. A humorless smile spread across his face. “I’m assuming you all have heard my connection to the recent murder,” he continued, not waiting for a response. “If any of you have a problem with that, now is your chance to leave.”
The elderly lady tossed her magazine aside and squinted at Tony. “I ain’t scared of you. And neither are the rest of these yahoos. Your uncle mention me?” She planted a hand on her hip.
Tony’s face softened a bit. “He did. It’s nice to meet you, Greta.”
“He tell you I require two lunch breaks instead of one?”
“Yes. That won’t be an issue.”
“Good.” Greta turned to the remaining employees. “If Sal trusts his nephew, then so can we. Don’t let any of that gossip nonsense fool you.” She poked the round woman’s arm. “Pick up your jaw, Paula. Let’s get those fries in the oven.” Paula scrambled after the feisty woman to the kitchen.
The middle-aged man introduced himself as Larry and quickly turned away to uncover the toppings station. Julian thrust his hand out to Tony. “Julian Rice. Master Chef. Part-time model. And total Brony.”
“What’s a Brony?” Tony asked, wrinkling his brow.
Julian lifted one pant leg to reveal a unicorn-patterned sock. "Bros who like My Little Pony—duh," he said dryly. "That's Starlight Glimmer," he added, speaking of the particular character. “And, for the record, I don’t care for town gossip either.”
Tony shook Julian’s hand, bemused. “Right.” He glanced at Gia, and told her, “My uncle talked about a new employee.”
“Yep. That would be me,” Gia said with a smile. Despite the recent turn of events, she planned on doing a good job. Just because she was helping her new boss avoid getting arrested didn’t mean he couldn’t fire her for doing a sucky job.
Tony was captivated by how her face glowed when she smiled, and stepped closer, only to be blocked by Julian. “I’ll show her around,” Julian narrowed his eyes. “Boss.”
Gia didn’t like the way the two men were glaring at each other. Hey everybody! New hot dog topping! Spicy testosterone!
“Fine. I’ll leave you to it.” Tony regarded Julian before walking to the back office and closing the door behind him.
“Well, that was fun,” Julian said.
“For you.” Gia frowned at him. “I hardly know you. You haven’t even introduced me to the ketchup and mustard bottles.”
“Tony might be the new manager, but I am night shift supervisor,” Julian said crossing his lean arms. “You’re new to my crew, and I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you. He needs to know if he wants to get to you, he has to go through me.”
Gia appreciated her new friend being protective, but it reminded her too much of her brothers. Was this Short Girl Problems #2 being manifested? Everyone, including little men, thinks short girls need extra protection? She could handle herself, thank you very much. And Gia was about to say so, but suddenly became distracted by a more pressing thought. “How was he looking at me?” she asked, pulling on a springy curl.
“The same look I give crab-stuffed lobster tail.” Julian sighed, staring off into space. “With garlic butter sauce and a sprinkle of lemon…”
“Your point?” Gia shook her head.
“My point,” he said, dropping his head and looking up at her as if it were obvious, “is that Tony wants to eat you up on a silver platter.”
The image that came to mind was interesting: Gia lying across a silver platter in a flattering swimsuit, giant sprigs of parsley encircling her demure pose.
“Yeah, right,” Gia scoffed, her dream-bubble popping. She bent to store her purse in a cabinet below the register. She could feel Julian’s gaze on the back of her neck. “Did Sherry Rizzo happen to hire you to spy on me? Nothing’s going to happen between us.”
“I hope not. That guy is bad news.”
<<<>>>
By noon, the bistro was packed. Inside was standing room only, and the outside tables were filled. Tony had to carry and set out picnic tables from storage. No one complained. The weather was beautiful, and the sun
made the lake’s water glitter. The food posed no complaints either.
Greta and Paula baked batch after batch of golden fries sprinkled with herbs. Sal wanted his fries baked instead of fried so his customers could taste the potato and not squishy grease. Customers appreciated the hard work and quality Sal put into the food. They paired the fries with house-made fry sauce. It was similar to Thousand Island dressing but without ketchup.
That was another thing. No ketchup on the premises. Nope. Nada. End of story.
Hot dogs were grilled and put into poppy seed buns. Mini ciabatta and brioche buns for sliders. Pressed sourdough bread for paninis. Toppings were imported fresh from farms located between Greenville and JewelCove. Lemonade and ice tea were served cold and made fresh every day.
Gia assembled a hot dog with tomato, chopped onion, sliced pickles, and mustard on checkered waxed paper in a recycled cardboard tray. She shoveled a scoop of fries next to the dog and drizzled sauce over it. The bold tomatoes and bright mustard made a beautiful presentation. Compared to Jennie and Larry, she was a bit slow but credited herself for not messing up an order.
During a lull, Gia peeked into the kitchen and saw Tony and Greta talking by the grill. This was the perfect time to pull Tony aside to discuss what Jennie had told her. Greta had been telling Tony stories from the days of her youth—some heartwarming, some scandalous. Tony wasn’t surprised in the least that the scandalous ones involved his uncle. He felt a tickle in his right ear and glanced up to see Gia standing in the doorway.
Greta’s words grew muffled as Tony took in Gia’s appearance, unable to hide his grin. A few strands of hair escaped her high ponytail, her new nametag hung upside down, and patches of mustard stained her shirt. She looked beautiful.
“I’m going on my break, hon,” Greta said to Tony and gave him a pointed look. “I’ll be back. Maybe.” She patted Gia’s cheek on the way out.
Gia gestured to the office, and they both filed into the cramped space. She took a seat in a rickety chair. Tony sat behind the desk. "Something on your mind?" he asked.