by Zoey Kane
There was no denying Adam's boss, John, was murdered. Several police officers were on their hands and knees by the underside of the limo. One called for an evidence bag. When the bag was retrieved they all regained their feet. One officer held the bag, and inside was a thick, palm-sized rock, slicked with blood.
Was that rock used to kill John?
She glanced at where Adam was sitting on the ground, being treated by a paramedic who gave him water, coaxing him to just breathe.
“Mr. Livingston, are you okay enough to tell us what happened?” said a female officer. She had a J.C.P.D., JewelCove Police Department, patch on her sleeve. Adam dabbed his forehead and neck with his tie.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat.
“Start when you’re ready.” The officer held a pad and pen. Gia focused her attention on Petey, rubbing his face, belly, and blowing kisses at him.
Her ears intently waited for Adam to speak.
“This morning, my boss wanted to check out some properties in town. This area was next.”
“Your employer being John Burke, correct?”
“Yes, I sometimes chauffeur for his son. He was also in the car...”
“And his name?”
“Christopher Burke.” Adam paused. “I had just turned onto this road when I was ordered to pull over. They were arguing again.” Adam sounded tired and a bit annoyed. Gia guessed he was witness to many arguments between father and son. “John was frustrated.”
The officer jotted down a note. “What did he and Chris argue about?” she asked, her blue gaze on her pad.
“John wants... wanted Chris to stop goofing around about what to do with his future and to just work full-time alongside him—”
Adam squeezed his eyes shut as paramedics wheeled John’s covered body past. Upon hearing the doors of the ambulance shut, he continued. “Chris argued back. Shouting so loud. He said he was tired of being forced to be a part of John’s business and for now on would do things his own way. It got ugly after that...”
“How so?”
“John threatened to strip Chris of everything financially, the condo he lived in, and he would make sure no one was to ever hire Chris. John then stormed out of the car. After a few minutes, Chris followed...” Adam paused again.
Gia’s palms became damp.
Tony was released and joined her. “Let’s head on back—”
“Wait,” she cut in, pretending to rummage through her tote bag.
“Mr. Livingston, did you see what happened after both men left the vehicle?”
“No. I heard them argue again. I tried to ignore it and started to read a book I keep in the glove compartment.” Adam swallowed. “Then I heard a heavy thump against the car, as if someone was pushed into it and then fell to the ground. I was afraid that’s what actually happened. Maybe they were fighting. So I got out. Maybe I could have told them to stop.” He slapped his hand on his mouth, gagging.
“Mr. Livingston?”
“John... dead.” Medics swarmed when Adam fainted again.
“Come on, G.” Tony took Petey’s leash from her. “Officer Gardner, the cop who questioned me, said he would drive us back to the diner.”
“Okay.” Gia let Tony lead her to the awaiting officer. She glanced one last time at Adam. She was sorry that he was most likely to have nightmares about finding his boss murdered for the rest of his life.
Officer Gardner opened the passenger door for her.
“Thank you,” she said. Oh, great. She groaned inwardly. Nothing better than driving away from a crime scene to face my parents as I step from a cop car.
4
During the ride with Gardner, incoming messages on his radio reported Chris Burke was to be found immediately under suspicion of the murder of his father. A description was given.
“Sorry you folks got caught up in this,” Gardner said, pulling into Sunny Side Up parking lot. “If you remember any more info”—he handed Gia a card with his number—“just call.”
“Will do. Thanks.” She opened the door and met many pairs of concerned eyes.
Gotta love the small-town life.
News of John’s death and his missing son/possible killer had obviously spread like wildfire. Brad and her parents and brothers stood on the sidewalk.
Her mom stepped forward. “Are you okay, dear?” she asked.
“I’m fine. We’re fine.” Gia felt Tony stand beside her. She waited for the questions...
Strangely, Mom remained quiet.
Jennie leaned against Tony’s truck, giving Gia a loaded look that she couldn’t interpret.
Rob and Richie exchanged a glance with Dad, who crossed his arms, appearing unsettled.
Gia suddenly felt like she was being left out of something. “What is it?” she asked no one in particular, or particularly someone who’d quit being cryptic. Richie looked at Dad again, which was starting to tick her off. What weren’t they telling her?
Mom fiddled with the hem of her apron. “Sheriff Baker’s wife, Rhonda, stopped by a few minutes ago to tell us about John being murdered.” There was a familiarity with which her mom had said John’s name.
“You knew him?”
“Yes—”
“Correction,” Rob interrupted. “The whole town knew that grubby-fingered bastard.” His lip curled in disdain.
“Rob!” Mom hissed.
“I’m with Rob on this, Ma,” Richie said. “John was a horrible man. He threatened you and Pops—”
“Whoa, back up,” Gia said. “Can someone explain that to me?”
Dad spoke first. “John Burke is... was a money-toting businessman from the city who for the last couple of weeks has been scoping property here to buy. He wants to use whatever land he gets to build amenities to attract tourists—”
“To attract money,” Rob spat.
“—such as swanky condos and fancy restaurants. The plan he boasted around town was to buy the land on Main Street and demolish it. For what? I didn’t care to know.” Dad paused to place an arm around Mom. “He threatened proud business owners on this street to sell their shops, your Mom and me included. If all his bullying paid off, John was going to convince town officials to go along with his plan.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Gia huffed. She may be living in the next town thirty to forty minutes away, but didn’t anyone think to pick up a phone?
“There wasn’t anything to worry about,” Mom assured her. “Legally, John couldn’t just sweep the property out from under us. And intimidation wasn’t going to work in his favor. It’s going to take a lot of moving the universe to make a Rizzo back down.”
Her mom failed to realize the universe was nothing compared to the mighty force that was herself.
“Police are looking for his son now,” Tony solemnly said.
“Yeah, John’s driver said Chris argued a lot about not wanting to be a part of his dad’s business,” Gia explained. “I guess things got out of hand... and Chris just snapped.”
Mom sighed. “Chris never looked happy whenever he and his father came by—”
“To harass,” Rob cut in again.
“That’s it!” Mom pushed him back inside. “I’ve had enough of you interrupting. Go help in the kitchen.”
Gia caught Richie smirking, no doubt happy that the golden boy was finally getting into trouble.
“Let’s drop the subject,” Dad declared. “The police will do their jobs, and we'll get back to ours."
With that said, Gia, Tony, and Jennie said their goodbyes. Brunch turned stale and Greenville was a-callin’. Everyone exchanged hugs, handshakes, and too many kisses from Mom.
“We should have dinner together next time,” Mom suggested.
Gia just smiled, not making any life-altering promises.
“Oh! Hold on a sec!” Mom dashed inside the diner and came back with a to-go bag. “A little treat for later.” She winked.
“Thanks.” Gia hugged her once more, then turned to the awaiting passen
ger door opened by Tony.
Richie jogged after her. “Hey, can you drop me off at my place?”
“How’d you get here to begin with?” Gia cocked her brow.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “On Veronica’s Vespa.”
Scary Leather Lady drives a scooter? “You sat behind her on it?” Gia laughed.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He rolled his eyes. “I sat in the sidecar.”
Of course, what was she thinking? Gia rolled her eyes.
Tony jerked his thumb to the backseat. “Hop in.”
Once the four of them were buckled in, Gia asked, “Is your engagement with Veronica legit?”
“That’s what I would like to know,” Jennie said. Petey was back on her lap. “I pictured you with a strawberry blonde with a cheery attitude. Not someone, you know, who looks like she’d conjure demons in the middle of the night.”
“To be honest, we’re not engaged,” Richie confessed. “We met one evening at my seafood shack and got to talking. She’s really not that bad if you ignore all the piercings.”
“I doubt it.” Jennie shook her head.
“She agreed to help me out. I just wanted word to spread that I was permanently taken and, in the end, make Stacey jealous.”
“And what did Veronica get out of your weak scheme?” Gia was having a hard time feeling any type of sympathy for her brother.
“Free coconut shrimp for a week.”
<<<>>>
The next morning, Gia was slow to get moving. Well, it was Monday...
She threw on a pair of jeans and a turquoise blouse. The color brought out the little bit of tan she’d gotten yesterday from lying out on the hill. Petey grumbled—that’s what it sounded like—while she took him out for a bathroom break. Her spirits lifted when she remembered her mom had given her a to-go meal yesterday. Back in her apartment, she retrieved the container from the fridge.
Inside, she found a crepe-making kit: a thin stack of golden crepes, peeled and sliced peaches, a small cup of sweet cream filling, and a vial of dark liquid.
Heaven in a Styrofoam container.
A note from her mom was taped to the lid: As my daughter, I know you know how to assemble peaches and cream crepes. Though you will need to add your own brown sugar for this simple recipe. And dear, guard that vial with your life. Xoxox —Mom
Gia unscrewed the slim vial’s red top and sniffed. Almond extract.
Some Mondays didn’t suck after all.
She warmed two crepes—saving the rest for later—in a skillet, toasting each side. In a second pan, she tossed in a small chunk of butter, the peaches, and a sprinkle of brown sugar. Crepes heated enough, she set them aside on a plate, where she proceeded to smear on the sweet cream filling and licked the spoon afterward.
The peaches began to sizzle, creating their own syrup. She turned off the heat and stirred in a teaspoon of almond extract. That done, the peaches made their debut on top of the cream. Gia completed the breakfast treat by folding over the crepe.
Half of it was devoured before she realized the sweet dish would be a perfect addition to her blog. She booted up her laptop and powered on her digital camera. A new blog post was on the horizon.
Just Peachy
Monday may have its faults, being the very bottom to a rocky high-climbing week, but this morning proved to make its start a little bit easier.
I enjoy my usual morning routine and look forward to it, even when the forecast predicts gloom.
Thankfully, it’s another sunny day here in Greenville.
The consistent routine may seem droll to others, but I appreciate every moment from the second I wake up. My heart starts to beat faster and the butterflies in my stomach flutter pleasantly, because I know I’m living another day where I get to cuddle Petey, be goofy with my best friend, and sneak a kiss with the man I’ve fallen for.
And though some things may stay the same, I guarantee every now and then a wonderful wrench will be thrown into the constant norm, surprising you. Like having peaches and cream crepes for breakfast.
Gia uploaded a photo of the deliciously hometown meal. After hitting Submit, she checked the clock. “I’m leaving, buddy,” she said to Petey, and refilled his water and food bowl. “If you decide to have another party, be sure to thoroughly hide away all of the stuffing you pull from my pillows.”
She kissed his warm no, e and he licked hers. Gia slung her purse on, keys in hand, and took the stairs two at a time, stepping out to her apartment’s parking lot. She had turned the key in the ignition of her tiny red car, then stopped. She needed to make a call first to see if everything was well in JewelCove. She dialed Rob’s cell—he’d be at the diner by now.
Two rings later, he picked up. “What’s up?” he answered.
“Hey, just wanted to know how Mom and Dad are doing.”
“All right. The diner has been busy ever since the murder.”
“I can imagine.” News is news, no matter what it was and people flocked together to discuss it. “Has Chris been caught?” she asked.
“Yes and no.” Rob tittered.
“Elaborate, please.”
“Police found Chris a half a mile from where his dad was killed at Down Under, sipping a scotch.”
“Murderers have done odder things after killing.”
“That’s where the ‘no’ comes in. Chris was just questioned and released. Rhonda, the sheriff’s wife, said her husband needs more evidence before an arrest is made.”
“Makes sense. Baker is probably waiting to find prints on the murder weapon.” Gia chewed her lip. Adam the chauffeur stated he didn't see what happened, so solid evidence or the murderer's confession were what would close the case.
“You saw what killed John?” Rob said.
“I saw what I’m assuming is the murder weapon. I was waiting for Tony to finish being questioned when one of the cops bagged a sharp rock that was found near John’s body.”
“Ouch. I may not have liked the guy, but no one deserves to die like that,” he said somberly. “I have to admit, Gia, I’m worried. There’s talk of Sheriff Baker not seeming too focused on nailing down Chris,” he stressed.
“Why are you worried about that?”
“Think about it. Who else would police sniff at? There’s only a few people who’d want to see John permanently gone.”
“The bullied shop owners could be considered suspects.” Gia wasn’t liking where this was headed.
“Exactly.”
Worst case scenario, the killer was still on the loose. The police would look into those who would most likely do anything to protect their livelihood.
That included Mom and Dad.
“Who else would Sheriff Baker suspect?” Their parents’ involvement was nonexistent. That went without a doubt.
“There’s three. Frank Furter. He owns Frank’s Fried Fish. Candice and her dad Carlos Santiago. They run a taffy store. And Abby Norwitz. She’s an older woman, whose nephew helps with her seashell antique store. He’s a big, scary-looking dude.”
“They were all bothered by John to sell their businesses?”
"Yes. Especially Frank. His place sits on a good chunk of land. But Frank's also a hot head. He and John would have shouting matches. One time, John's limo drove past Frank's restaurant, and he ran out and threw a dead fish at it.”
No wonder Baker was in no rush.
“Remember this is speculation, Rob,” she said. “We’ll see what happens next and go from there.” However long it took until then, edgy was the word to describe Gia.
“I’ll keep an eye out and an ear open,” Rob promised. “Sheriff or not, Baker has another thing coming if he goes anywhere near Ma and Pops.”
Happy Monday, folks.
5
Walking into In The Box was like walking back into her apartment: It was home. The serving counter, the chalkboard featuring today’s specials, her friends and neighbors filing in and out while carrying their early lunches—all of it soothed
her jittery system.
The bistro, which stood in the heart of Greenville for decades, served people fun in a bun—hot dogs, paninis, and sliders. In The Box was also popular for their herb-seasoned, oven-baked fries topped with the house-made zesty fry sauce. Vegan and gluten-free ingredients were readily available for those who wanted it.
“Girlie!” Greta called from behind the serving counter. Her gray roots were starting to peek through the red dye. “I need your opinion.”
She beckoned Gia to follow her into the kitchen. Gia passed Tony at a prep station. He wore a white V-neck T-shirt which showed off the tattoos wrapped deliciously around his biceps. They flexed as he set down a heavy plastic bin of pork shoulder that swam in broth overnight. The meat would soon be roasted, then later, half would be shredded for sliders and the other half kept in large sliced slabs to be used in panini sandwiches. He paused to drop a peck on her forehead. The simple gesture sent a zing to her toes.
“Focus.” Greta picked up a hot pink shopping bag. “Rudy from my salsa class—”
“You salsa?” Gia couldn’t hide her surprise.
Tony grunted.
“I’ve got moves!” Greta shimmied her bony shoulders. “Sal and I use to dance quite often in our day.”
She was referring to Tony’s uncle Sal, the former owner of the bistro. Since taking over, Tony had, unfortunately, learned of his uncle’s relationship with Greta. She wasn’t his aunt but was a tough woman and good friend who put up with Sal when he first opened the bistro. And while he retired to the beach, Greta stayed to continue on with his nephew.
And so lovingly graced everyone with memories of how wild she and Sal had been in their youth.
“Sal used to dip and twirl me across the dance floor. I can’t say I can dip anymore, but I still got moves!” Greta exclaimed. “Anyway, Rudy wants to have dinner at Enzo’s this evening, and I need your advice on which dress to pick. I chose dark colors on account of Rudy not being able to perceive bright colors. A pity, since I’m getting a touch-up later.” She fluffed her faded red ringlets.