by J. D. Griffo
Alberta examined Nola’s face and had to agree. The girl was about the same age as Jinx, but looked years older thanks to the shadows under her eyes and the tension lines around her mouth. But at least she could still smile.
“Lola!” Nola squealed. “How nice to see you again.”
“Ooh, Nola and Lola, it’s like a nursery rhyme,” Joyce said.
“Looks like Lola’s passed her nursery rhyme days and has graduated to more adult material,” Helen said.
Elongating her body and purring softly, Lola wove herself in and out of the lawyer’s legs and when he picked her up to cradle her, she threw her head back as if in ecstasy.
“As you can see, Bruno is quite the charmer,” Nola shared. “If we do have to go to trial, he’ll have the jury wrapped around his finger.”
“Bruno?” Alberta said. “That’s hardly a Swedish name.”
“My dad’s Sicilian,” he explained.
“Veramente?” Alberta asked. “You wouldn’t just be saying that to get on our good side, would you?”
“From what I’ve heard about you ladies, I doubt I’d be able to get anything past you,” Bruno replied. Transferring Lola to his left hand, he extended his right hand to Alberta for a formal greeting. “The full name’s Bruno Bel Bruno.”
“You can’t get much more Sicilian than that,” Alberta observed, shaking Bruno’s hand.
She liked his grip, soft, yet strong, like a comfortable cushion on top of concrete. She looked directly into the young man’s bright blue eyes and they were staring right back at her, unwavering, but filled with kindness. She felt a sense of calm in his presence and something more, something that reminded her of when she looked into Sloan’s eyes, the feeling of being protected. Maybe there was hope for the male species after all, she thought. Helen, however, didn’t seem to share her opinion.
“What town is your father from?” Helen quizzed.
“Trapani,” Bruno answered.
“We could be neighbors, we’re from Tortoli,” Helen claimed.
Before Alberta could comment, Bruno corrected Helen, “Only if my family owned a speedboat to cross the Mediterranean. Tortoli is in Sardinia. You’re a good cross-examiner.”
“I used to be a nun,” Helen said. “Kind of the same thing. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t luring us into a false sense of security.”
“I wouldn’t dare. I know all about the wrath of the Sicilian woman,” Bruno conveyed. “One year my mother served Swedish meatballs at Christmas and my Sicilian aunts almost ran her back to Örnsköldsvik.”
“As they should have!” Helen cried.
“Ornsko-who?” Alberta repeated.
“Her hometown,” Bruno clarified. “A few hours north of Stockholm.”
Alberta turned to Helen and asked, “Are you going to test him about that, too?”
“No he’s passed the Helen test with flying colors.”
“Don’t worry, I’m in really good hands,” Nola confirmed.
“Even if my longshoreman dad always said my hands look like they never did a real man’s work in their entire life,” Bruno joked.
“I think I can speak for the rest of us when I say that we like you,” Joyce announced. “And that we know you’ll not stop working until the charges are dropped and Nola can put this whole unfortunate situation behind her.”
“That’s exactly what I intend to do,” Bruno announced. “And, if you’re all willing, I’d really like your help.”
“Spazzatoio nuovo spazza ben la casa,” Alberta said. “Looks like a new broom is looking to sweep the house clean.”
“I find a fresh pair of eyes—or a new broom—is always helpful when trying to uncover a mystery,” Bruno stated.
“You do know that you’re in the presence of the Ferrara Family Detective Agency, right?” Jinx said. “The title’s unofficial, but our determination isn’t.”
“Nola told me,” Bruno replied. “And I also know that you and your grandmother were the ones who found Jonas’s body.”
“Yes, while we were out for our morning jog,” Alberta confirmed.
“The rain’s passed and there’s still an hour or so of light left, how’d you like to take me back to the scene of the crime?” Bruno asked.
“As long as we can drive,” Alberta said. “I limit my jogging time for the morning when I’m too tired to come up with an excuse not to exercise.”
“Why do you want to go back there?” Jinx asked. “The police have thoroughly searched the area, and it’s definitely been contaminated by now. There wouldn’t be any clues to pick up.”
Flashing a smile of perfectly white teeth that would be the envy of any movie star, Bruno said, “Jinx, you’d be surprised what you could learn by going back to where things all began. If you’re game, I’d like us to go back to Tranquility Park and reenact the crime.”
“I’m free,” Joyce said.
“I love a good reenactment,” Alberta concurred.
“As long as we stop at the diner on the way back so I can get some real food and not have to eat this Jinx-approved vegan nightmare of a smorgasbord, I’m game,” Helen added.
“You’re such a sport, Aunt Helen.”
“I know, sweetie.”
“Then ladies, please follow me to the tree house,” Bruno commanded. “Who knows what secrets we’ll uncover.”
CHAPTER 15
Siamo ancora morti?
Entering Tranquility Park for the first time since finding Jonas’s dead body, Alberta felt her bravado slither away from her like a snake burrowing into a mound of dirt to escape a stronger enemy. She didn’t immediately notice her strength had betrayed her, in fact, she had been enjoying the stroll through the park on the crisp autumn evening, the smell of rain still clinging to the breeze, the leaves, not entirely waterlogged so they still crackled underneath her feet. But by the time she stood underneath the tree house, she felt exhausted as if she had just run several miles barefoot and without her sports bra. She felt wounded and bruised, physically ill, and she realized that it was because she was standing on the very spot where Jonas most likely took his last breath. Figuratively and literally, she was standing on the threshold of death. Of course this was all in a day’s work for a private detective, but it was definitely an out-of-the-ordinary experience for a grandmother helping out her ambitious granddaughter.
However, if Alberta was going to continue working alongside Jinx as well as Helen and Joyce to solve crimes, she was going to need to learn how to reconcile these types of situations and maintain an emotional distance from murder victims and would-be clients. It was a gratifying and even humbling feeling to help people who were lost and who didn’t have family to lean on for support like Nola, but if Alberta wound up losing herself in the process, she wasn’t going to be able to help people for very long.
Alberta exhaled deeply and looked around at Jinx, Helen, and Joyce, and wondered how they were feeling. She knew that despite leaving the convent for reasons still unknown to her, Helen had a much stronger spiritual foundation and believed unequivocally in the continuation of life after death. As a Catholic, Alberta technically shared that belief, but privately had doubts and entertained the possibility that upon death all type of life, physical and spiritual, terminated. It was a frightening thought, but one she couldn’t escape. Perhaps it was time to get back to church on a regular basis, she thought, or at least say her evening prayers again. She instinctively touched the crucifix and never took it off, which caused her to feel ashamed because even though she wore the religious symbol around her neck, she would be a hypocrite if she labeled herself a true believer.
Although Joyce was raised a Baptist, she converted to Catholicism when she married Alberta’s brother, Anthony. Even though Alberta knew Joyce to be an independent woman who rarely strayed from her own convictions to please someone else, she always felt she converted to make life easier for her husband. Having a black wife was one thing, but having a black wife who wasn’t Catholic was almost blasp
hemous. Regardless of the reason, Joyce’s conversion was hardly a gesture as both her boys were baptized, received their First Holy Communion, their confirmation, and graduated from a parochial high school. Joyce had clocked in as many hours kneeling in pews as Alberta did and probably many more hours in the last few years. It didn’t matter if the core of her belief was Baptist or Catholic, either way it was unshakable.
As part of a new generation, Jinx had a much different take on organized religion, and her participation in church came a distant second to her own personal spirituality. Alberta and Jinx had yet to have an in-depth conversation about Jinx’s beliefs so Alberta didn’t know the strength of her granddaughter’s foundation, but she hoped it was built on firmer ground than hers. It was not easy to deal with death, murder, and criminal activity on a constant basis without having the knowledge of some greater good lurking just beyond your own shadow and within your own breath. Alberta made a mental note to strike up a conversation with Jinx to find out her thoughts on religion and spirituality right after they proved who really killed Jonas. At the rate they were going, however, that conversation wasn’t going to take place anytime soon.
“So this is where you found Jonas’s body?” Bruno asked, standing underneath the tree house.
“Yes, on our way back from the other side of the park,” Jinx replied.
“And when you found him did you see anyone nearby or running from the scene?” Bruno followed up.
“No, it was very early and the park was deserted that morning,” Jinx replied. “But Gram did see something inside the tree house when we ran past it the first time.”
Bruno’s blue eyes lit up. “What did you see, Mrs. Scaglione?”
“First, call me Alberta,” she replied. “Second, I’m not exactly sure what I saw. Vinny thought it was a bird, but I believe it was a person though I can’t prove it.”
Bruno pondered Alberta’s comment, nodding his head and surveying the area. A wild breeze stirred up out of nowhere rustling the leaves and mussing up his hair so his bangs fell onto his forehead giving him an even more youthful look. He held his hands behind his back and started to walk around the area as if he was in a courtroom presenting a case to a jury, which gave the women some insight into how the combination of his deep voice and boyish charm could captivate his audience.
“So let me set up one possible timeline,” Bruno said. “Someone was in the tree house along with Jonas when you entered the park, you and Jinx jogged past, that person pushed Jonas to his death, then jumped out of the tree house himself, or herself for that matter, ran off, and was out of sight by the time the two of you returned to find Jonas’s dead body.”
“That sounds right to me,” Alberta concurred.
“Which means that whoever was in the tree house with Jonas probably saw the two of you run by,” Bruno said.
“Why do you say that?” Jinx asked.
“Because the person was working under a strict deadline, pardon the pun,” Bruno began. “The sun had already started to rise so our murderer wasn’t working in complete darkness and he—or she—didn’t know how quickly the two of you would return, so the moment you ran by, the clock started ticking and he or she had to act quickly in order to get out of there unseen.”
While the rest of the group continued to talk and recount the details and timeline of what happened the morning Jonas’s body was found, Nola was standing by herself, a few feet from the group, looking up at the tree house as if it was an alien structure. Her face resembled a mask worn to hide what lay just underneath. Despite her attempt to conceal her emotions, Alberta could sense that Nola was utterly confused and deeply wounded by her current situation. She moved closer to the young woman as quietly and inconspicuously as possible until she was standing next to Nola, who didn’t alter her gaze and appeared not to notice Alberta’s presence.
“You’re awfully quiet, honey,” Alberta whispered. “Are you okay?”
Nola shook her head almost imperceptibly before speaking. “No, I’m not,” she replied, her voice even quieter than Alberta’s. “People think I actually killed a man.” After a moment, she turned to face Alberta. “How could that be possible?”
“Remember you’re innocent until proven guilty,” Alberta replied.
Smiling broadly, Nola looked like she was going to burst into laughter. But when she spoke, her voice was rich with sarcasm, fear, even panic. “You know that’s a lie. I know I’m innocent, but to the rest of this community I’m guilty as sin because that’s much easier to comprehend. Why is evil so much easier to accept than goodness?”
Alberta wasn’t sure if she was more stunned by the question or the tone of Nola’s voice, which was childlike and reeking of innocence. She didn’t know Nola very well, but she had never heard her speak so despondently. She had even less gumption than when she was in prison, and it broke her heart. Alberta wanted to reach out and hug her, take her in her arms, and tell her that everything was going to be alright, but she didn’t want to lie. She didn’t want to make a promise that she couldn’t keep. So instead, she answered the question as honestly as she could.
“Maybe it’s because people want to think someone else is bad so they can feel good about themselves,” Alberta replied.
Nola looked at Alberta with such intensity that even though they were a few feet from a group of people still chattering and debating clues, she felt as if they were the only two people on the planet. “I’m not perfect, Mrs. Scaglione, but I’m not a murderer,” Nola said. “Do you believe me?”
The question was so simple, yet so complicated that it made Alberta smile involuntarily as if she had stumbled on a new recipe to make lasagna that was obvious and revolutionary at the same time. It was something she should have known all along, but something that had somehow eluded her. All this time Alberta had taken for granted that Nola was innocent because she was Jinx’s friend. How could her granddaughter be friends with a coldhearted criminal? Why would Jinx defend a ruthless killer? But Alberta had never really taken a moment to ask herself what she truly thought. Did she agree with Jinx’s proclamation that Nola couldn’t be guilty of premeditated murder? Was she as certain as her granddaughter seemed to be? Until the moment Nola asked her question, she didn’t know. But the answer came to her quickly and decisively.
“Yes, Nola, I believe you,” Alberta stated.
Relief crept across Nola’s face slowly, yet steadily, her face brightening like the end of an eclipse, and gratitude filled her eyes. Just when she looked like she was about to cry, she turned her gaze back toward the tree house and spoke in a much louder voice so as to bring the rest of the group into their conversation.
“What I really want to know is how in the world could anyone even get up there without a ladder?”
Turning around to face Nola, Jinx shouted, “I was about to ask the same question. I mean seriously, are you psychic or something?”
“Nope,” Nola replied. “Merely curious.”
“That makes all of us,” Joyce added. “I mean there was no ladder found inside the tree house and when Vinny tried to climb the tree, he fell flat on his back. He had to have Kichiro bring a ladder for him to climb so he could get inside.”
“You’re all going to laugh at me, but I’ll say it anyway,” Alberta forewarned. “The only thing that makes sense is if there was some kind of portable, retractable ladder that extended up when you placed it on the ground so you could climb it, get into the tree house, and then retract it once again. It would be the opposite of one of those ladders that roll down like on a fire escape or a helicopter.”
“That’s not laughable at all,” Bruno said.
“It isn’t?” Alberta asked.
“No, it’s brilliant,” he replied.
“But pure fiction,” Helen added.
“Not at all,” Bruno said. “There is such a thing as a retractable ladder and it’s something that the police would have access to.”
“Seriously?” Alberta cried, shocked that she in
tuitively stumbled on a real clue that could help their investigation.
“And in case anyone’s forgotten,” Bruno said before taking a dramatic pause, “Nola’s fake boyfriend is a cop.”
The comment created the hushed silence its speaker intended. If Kichiro had access to such a ladder, he could gain entry to the tree house at any time without anyone knowing he was up there. It also meant, most notably and more frighteningly, that it could’ve been his shadow Alberta noticed inside the tree house.
“You think Kichiro could’ve been the person Alberta saw?” Joyce asked.
“It’s very possible,” Bruno replied. “More than possible actually. Those ladders aren’t that easy to come by and they’re much more expensive than the traditional kind so you’d want to have a ladder that was not only easily transportable, but also easy to hide.”
“An adulterer is very good at hiding things,” Helen said not realizing exactly what she had said.
Alberta, Joyce, and Jinx quickly glanced at each other and then over at Nola whose face was starting to turn even paler than normal. Quickly, Alberta decided she needed to put a verbal Band-Aid on the leak that was about to hemorrhage thanks to Helen’s slip of the tongue.
“Technically Kichiro isn’t committing adultery,” Alberta corrected. “Only his, um, lady friend is.”
“You know about that?” Nola asked.
“Yes,” Jinx replied. “Kichiro kind of confessed it to us.”
“That is a huge relief actually,” Nola said. “Jinx knows that I have a tendency to ramble, and keeping that secret from everyone was making me a little crazy.”
“Now that’s one less thing you have to keep hidden,” Alberta rationalized.
The women fought the urge to look at each other because they had agreed, for the time being anyway, not to disclose to Nola that they knew the other woman was Sharon. They were rather certain Nola had to know this information, but on the off chance it was also a secret they thought it best to keep the knowledge among the four of them only. Knowledge that thanks once again to Helen was about to be spilled.