Sativa and Connie walked up the steps together, rang the bell and waited. One of the attendants opened the door and ushered the girls inside, Connie leaning heavily on Sativa’s arm for moral support. As family, they were there early to view the surroundings and the body. Digger had made everything comfortable and home-like.
“I’ve driven by this place countless times, I had no idea what inside would be like,” Connie said through her lace trimmed black veil.
Both she and Sativa were dressed in the appropriate black dresses, black hosiery, and low heeled black pumps. Connie, as the widow, wore a small black hat with a heavy black veil. Both girls had spent the last two days scouring thrift shops and department stores to find the customary clothing as their joint wardrobes were unprepared for the roles they were about to play.
Gina was at home with the baby. It was decided that she would attend the funeral, as the wake would be too lengthy and stressful. The funeral was scheduled for later that afternoon after the visiting hours were over.
Bugsy was not a resident of Cape Cod and no-one except immediate family knew him, and those members didn’t know him very well either. Sativa, Indica, Connie and Gina thought that a one-day wake and funeral was best. Besides, the press was starting to filter onto the Cape.
The bus terminal had been overflowing with reporters from all over the country. Matt and his limited crew were doing their best to keep the media and paparazzi at bay.
Indica begged to stay home with Gina and the baby. She felt that her presence was more necessary there. Secretly, she adored the baby and was delighted to be able to help with his care.
The ladies were then steered through the highly polished wooden door into the first viewing room and were greeted by Digby and his son, Donald, already training to fill in his father’s shoes and take over for him if needed.
Ushered into that larger central room with the casket, Sativa and Gina were surprised to see the entire room filled to overflowing with baskets of flowers.
“Digby, where have all these flowers come from? Who sent them?” Connie asked.
“They have been coming in all morning from our little local florists. Anna said that her supply was depleted, and she still had more orders to fill. Several nearby florists are helping out.”
“I left the gift cards on the baskets so you could see who sent them.” Donald said trying to be helpful.
“Thank you,” Connie replied as she reached for a few of the cards. “Who are these people, Sativa? Who is ‘With love from ‘Pidgeon’, or Your devoted friend, Antonio ‘Mad Man’ DeSantos, or Giovani ‘Tommy-Gun’ Villani, or Alberto ‘Blackjack’ Palermo, these names are giving me the creeps.”
“My guess? Mob Members from Vegas.” Sativa choked on those words. “I think Matt needs to know about this.”
She left the room, walked over near another door, pulled out her cell phone and dialed Matt’s number, her hands were shaking, and her knees felt like jelly.
“Station 12, Sargent Williams, how can we help?” came the voice.
“Williams, I need to speak with Matt, this is Sativa,” she managed to choke out, through her mounting fear.
“Matt is at the bus depot sorting things out. Where are you?”
“At Diggers, he needs to come right away. Something’s going to happen,” Sativa whispered into her phone.
“Right, I’ll get him there.” Williams promised and ended the call.
Still shaking, Sativa hurried back into the home looking for Donald. She spotted him chatting with his father and she walked up to them and waited while they finished their conversation.
“Digby, Donald, could you please delay the opening until Matt arrives?” Sativa said shakily.
“Of course, may we ask why? You seem upset. Is something wrong?” Digby asked in a fatherly tone
“Yes, I believe something is going to happen and Connie’s life is in danger.” Sativa choked, her voice shaky, eyes wide with fear.
“Oh, of course,” he responded, not believing a word of this hysteria, it happened frequently in this business, so he answered, “we will honor your wishes and keep the doors closed until Matt arrives as you requested,” Digby nodded to his son to confirm. Donald nodded back with a sly wink.
Sativa, thinking she had been believed, hurried back to the room, and stood protectively beside Connie.
“Listen to me, Connie, you are not to go anywhere without me, understand? Even to the ladies, I need to be with you. I don’t know what’s going to happen but I won’t leave you alone for a minute. I’m not a body-guard, but I do know those flowers are not friendly!”
“You’re scaring me, Sativa, what can possibly happen? This is a funeral home for dead people.”
“Right, and I don’t want you to be one of them.”
Cruising along Rte. 6A in Barnstable, two apparitions were searching for the correct address.
“I told ya we should have left sooner. The wake’s gonna be over before we get there.” Fritzie yelled as he tucked his sheet tighter around himself. “This sea breeze is pretty chilly.”
“I was playing with my baby grandson,” Bugsy yelled back, “he is so cute, Fritzie, I wanted to stay longer. Maybe I can play with him later.”
“Oops, I think we’re here. Digby O’Dell Funeral Home, yup, there it is.” Fritzie yelled to Bugsy and pointed down at the building.
They landed with a thud on the meticulously cut front lawn and Fritzie bent to pick a few flowers.
“Jeeze, Fritz, that wasn’t nice. What are you gonna do with them?”
“Put them on your casket, of course, you was or is my best buddy.”
“Thanks, but I think we have enough flowers, don’t you?” Bugsy remarked as they flew in through a window and skidded to a halt in front of the casket surrounded with baskets of flowers.
“Well, will ya look at that!” Fritzie’s eyes wide with surprise, (if ghosts can do that, of course). “Wow! You sure was popular, Bugsy.”
“You think so? No, Fritzie, this is a warning. This is the mob’s death wish,” Bugsy said.
The two ghosts floated over to where Sativa and Connie were talking overhearing the last remark Sativa said to Connie, “Right, and I don’t want you to be one of them.”
“What’d she mean by that remark?” Fritzie wanted to know as they cruised around the casket to get a better view.
“Jeeze, they didn’t do a very good job on my face, I look old,” Bugsy replied not answering Fritzie’s question.
“Lemme see,” he flew closer, “right, you do look old.,” answered Fritzie as he peered into the casket.
Chapter Thirteen
Matt, Archie and two of his police officers were scanning the crowded bus terminal looking for suspicious appearing arrivals.
“They all look like the press to me,” Archie said to Matt as they stood side-by-side at the sliding door entrance. The bus depot on Route 132 had not had this much activity for years. Hamburger King and Dunkie Donuts were doing a rushing business as was the Sandwich Shop. The two hour ride from Logan Airport to the Cape made the passengers hungry and thirsty.
“I wonder how Cape Air and the newly expanded airport are doing today?” Archie asked, his nose twitching at the aroma of Dunkie’s coffee which permeated the small building.
“Thank heaven the flights are limited or else we would really have a mob scene. I didn’t say that did I?” Matt chuckled at his joke and felt his cell vibrate. He pulled it from a pocket of his mackintosh, placed it on his ear to hear over the din in the room and listened to what Williams had to say.
“How long ago? Who? Where? Right!” Matt clicked off the phone, turned to Archie and said, “Sativa seems to think something is going to happen. She’s at the funeral home with Connie. You hold the fort here, Archie, give me twenty minutes, then bring the men to Diggers.”
Matt sliced his way through the crowd and rushed out to his unmarked car, jumped into the driver’s seat, hit the siren, and roared out of the bus parking lot onto
Route 132. Traffic parted like Moses and the Red Sea as he shot through to the lights at Phinney’s Lane. He hooked a left up to Barnstable Village. There he killed the siren, (court was in session), and shrieked to a stop in front of Diggers, about half-a-mile up the road on 6A. During the entire trip all he could think of was Sativa, his Sativa and she was in danger.
He handed the keys to valet parking and rushed up the steps to bang on the door.
Donald opened the door and was about to say that they were closed when he recognized Matt and let him in, locking the door behind him.
Sativa heard the loud knock and came running out from the room and flew into Matt’s arms.
“Wow! That was a pretty nice greeting,” he said as he hugged her for a few seconds and then untangled her arms so he could ask some questions.
“What’s going on, Sativa, and where did all those flowers come from?” he looked around her into the big room and saw the baskets. “Are there any left on the Cape?” he teased.
“That’s why I called you, Matt, those baskets are from the mob and they aren’t friendly, they are a message and a warning.”
“How do you know all this?” Matt asked.
“I spent fifteen years in Vegas working in a Casino. Even though we weren’t involved, we still knew what things like that meant. This isn’t good. Flowers like that are a death wish for the next-of-kin, the family. I am worried about Connie. Indica is with Gina and the baby now. Could you send Archie there to watch over them? The baby is so innocent, Matt,” she started to tear up, “he shouldn’t even be involved.”
Matt handed her his clean handkerchief. “Thanks,” she said as she wiped away the tears that had leaked out even though she tried to stop them.
Allowing her to cry, Matt walked over to the baskets and started reading the cards. He motioned to Connie to go to Sativa.
Connie slid her way over and put her arm around Sativa’s shoulders murmuring to her quietly. Digby walked up and spoke softly to both the ladies.
“The guests are starting to arrive, Connie, Sativa, you may want to take your places at the casket.”. Sativa wiped her eyes and blew her nose daintily in Matt’s hankie, tucked it in her pocket and joined Connie beside the casket as the mourners came up to greet them.
“I don’t recognize any of these people, Sativa,” Connie said in a whisper after greeting quite a few, “I have never seen any of them before.”
“Press, mostly, although I do recognize a few of the mob from Vegas.” Sativa whispered back.
“Why are they here?”
“To pay their respects, Connie, the mob is very religious about that.”
“I’m only glad Matt is here and Archie is with Gina, I heard Matt tell Archie on his cell. I feel safer knowing that” Connie sighed, and straightened as she remembered something, “what about the Better Butter Bakery, weren’t you supposed to open today?”
“We postponed it until after the funeral, Connie, so don’t worry yourself about it,” Sativa smiled and greeted the next person in line.
“I wish this were over and finished,” Connie said in a hushed voice, “the funeral this afternoon then our lives can return to normal.”
“Amen to that!” Sativa whispered back.
Chapter Fourteen
There were three cars in the funeral procession that afternoon as it left Digby’s and solemnly made its way to the Barnstable Cemetery off of Rte. 6A. The hearse with the casket and all the flowers, the family limo, and the unmarked car. When they arrived at the cemetery, there was a long black stretch limo, its windows blacked out waiting silently near the gravesite. Matt visually checked to ascertain the two other police cruisers which were parked discreetly around the edge of the cemetery at a respectable distance.
Bugsy and Fritzie were in the hearse with the casket, Connie, Gina. and Sativa were in the family limo, Indica had stayed behind to take care of the baby with Archie there as a bodyguard. Matt and two of his deputies were in the unmarked car.
Who was in the stretch limo was anybody’s guess?
Digby and the minister were waiting at the graveside. Four attendants stepped out of the hearse, opened the back, loaded the casket onto a trolley and started to wheel it up next to the grave. This was done almost silently. The baskets of flowers were unloaded and suitably arranged around the site, without delay. Digby motioned for Connie, Gina, and Sativa to step out of the limo and come to the graveside for the last words. The burial was to be a noticeably short service. There were no chairs for the family. Everything would be done as quickly as possible,
Matt slid out of his unmarked car with his two officers. He motioned them to stand guard around the perimeter of the gravesite. He had tried to get more officers from other towns, but they were too inundated with the arrivals of the press and curiosity seekers to help him out. Their villages were in chaos too. Whoever this guy was, the quicker he was laid to rest, the better so everyone’s lives could return to normal.
Meanwhile, Fritzie and Bugsy flew out of the hearse and hovered at the gravesite.
“Never thought I would see my own funeral,” Bugsy sighed sadly.
“This is a nice funeral, Bugsy,” Fritzie replied as they flew over to settle on a nearby gravestone so they could watch without being noticed. “Plain and simple,” he added.
The black stretch limo door opened and two men in black suits, black shirts, black ties, and black fedoras stepped out, one of them carrying a flowered wreath with an R.I.P. ribbon across the front. Both men wore black arm bands indicating their mourning. They walked to the graveside, removed their hats, laid the wreath on the casket, and walked over to stand on the other side of the grave, hands folded in front of them respectfully. Matt was watching them intently. His deputies were scanning the area, hands poised on their firearms. Matt unobtrusively checked his holster under his arm, reassured. He couldn’t see any press lurking behind trees or some of the gravestones.
The minister began the service. His eulogy was the shortened version, unfortunately, because he had no idea who this stranger was. Actually, no one knew who this departed, dead, murdered, person was. The family, when asked to complete the required forms, offered little or no information. Neither did Matt. If the minister thought this strange, he decided not to ask too many questions. In his experience, families experienced grief in many different ways.
Ruffled by a cool sea breeze, Connie, Sativa and Gina, dressed in their black mourning outfits were standing quietly by the graveside waiting until the minister finished. The only one shedding tears was the daughter, Gina. The minister motioned for the widow to do the ‘ashes to ashes, dust to dust’ and Connie reluctantly stepped forward, her thoughts far away to other times when she and Bugsy were young and newly married. She graciously accepted the little silver shovel, dipped it into the dirt and scattered it over the casket.
“Bye, Bugsy, wish things had been different,” she said softly, “I honestly loved only you.” She choked on a sob and let her tears fall. She fumbled in her pocket for a tissue, dabbed at her eyes and tucked the tissue back in her pocket. She handed the shovel back to the minister, then went to hold Gina and Sativa’s hands.
The minister moved forward and said grace. The service completed, the two men in the black suits nodded to Connie, replaced their hats, and walked quietly back to their black stretch limo.
Connie, Gina, and Sativa took a final look at the graveside, said a silent prayer, blessed themselves, and turned to walk sadly back to their family limousine. The door was pushed open and Connie and Sativa were grabbed and yanked roughly inside. Gina started to scream when a pair of hands grabbed her arms, stuffed a gag in her mouth, and yanked her inside, too. The door slammed and the limo took off in a cloud of dust.
Stunned, Fritzie and Bugsy watched as the limo door opened saw the girls being roughly grabbed and pulled inside. Realizing what was happening, the two specters zoomed over and ducked into the limo after them only to be crunched, stuck on the ceiling to watch as the girls were tied
up and gagged. Aside from tangling up the ropes, which they did, they couldn’t do more, so they decided to stay with the girls and protect them as best they could in their current state of ghostly existence.
Matt, seeing Gina being hauled into the limo, shouted to his deputies as he ran to the unmarked. They came running and jumped into the car as it roared out of the cemetery in fast pursuit, but not quite fast enough. Matt screeched onto Rte. 6A, lights flashing heading west, but the limo was nowhere in sight.
“Tie them up and throw them on the floor,” came a voice from the front seat.
Meanwhile, the girls were terrified, gags and blindfolds were slapped over their faces, their hands tied behind their backs, and their ankles bound so they couldn’t kick their assailants. They were thrown roughly onto the floor of the limo as it took off and raced through the cemetery heading west onto Rte. 6A.
The rough surface of the carpet is tearing my nylons to shreds and digging into my legs. I smell some obnoxious pungent after-shave lotion of one of the thugs in here. It isn’t sweat but making me gag. Gina and Connie are lying next to me. One of them is sobbing silently. Probably Gina. Poor kid. She’s so worried about the baby. Indica will take good care of him. Archie is with them so they will be safe. I heard Matt tell him to go there. Wonder why this is happening? Who are these guys? Where are they taking us? What is this all about? I think we are on a main road because the surface is flat .Probably Rte. 6A. Matt, where are you? Did you see what happened? Why did they do this to us? I know you were at the funeral service. I’m scared, Matt. We are all terrified. I may never get to tell you that I still love you. I always have. Matt, we need you so much now I need you!
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