by Zoey Kane
“It’s settled then. Be ready to embark at nine a.m. tomorrow. You’ll have your own cabin and amenities. Just show your ID. You’re on will call.”
“Th-thank you for the opportunity,” Gia responded, but she had already been hung up on.
Tony entered the back prep area, wrinkling his brow in concern. He wanted to immediately shut down shop and go on a serious manhunt. Someone killed his mom, and it wasn't his dad. But he couldn't be impulsive. Reckless investigating could paint a target on his back, or worse. Gia's.
They would just have to do their work stealthily, after work. West Emily was within driving distance. He could work with that. Patience.
Compartmentalizing his worries, he approached another big issue at hand. One directly relating to In the Box. The second reason for his furrowed brow.
Crossing his arms, he eyed the crew of a few in various prepping areas. “Good morning,” he said flatly.
Gia looked up at him, her own brow wrinkling and concern shining in her big eyes.
“Good morning,” Greta responded.
“So I just got a call from Uncle Sal, and it’s not good.” Uncle Sal raised Tony after his mom’s murder, and passed his business, the bistro, down to Tony several months ago.
Everyone set down their various utensils and food items.
"Uncle Sal may be living it up on cruise ships, but he's a tough businessman. I sent him the last few months' worth of accounting, and he does not like what he sees."
That made Julian stand straighter at attention.
“Apparently, sales are down compared to when he ran the place. There’s a stipulation in our contract that says he can take the business over if things go downhill under my leadership.”
“But Tony,” Greta adjusted her hairnet, “the bistro has been busy as ever! Coach’s football team alone keeps us on our toes.”
“And what about the crabcake competition we had?” Gia said, shaking her head. “That brought in a ton of business!”
“Yeah,” someone else chimed in.
A murmur of confusion spread amongst the coworkers. Tony understood that nobody likes hearing bad news. Especially to do with failure.
“It just isn’t good enough.” Tony sliced the air with a hand before crossing his muscular arms. “We have to up our game. I’m going to be needing everyone’s help coming up with a plan. Our first brainstorming meeting starts tomorrow morning, nine a.m. sharp.”
Gia cringed an uncomfortable smile. One that spelled G.U.I.L.T in capital letters. She proceeded to wring her hands and sigh.
“Is there something you have to tell me?” Tony stepped forward, asking his girlfriend who looked adorable, even if guilty.
Batting her eyes innocently, she said, “Yes, can we meet in your office?”
<<<>>>
In Tony’s office, door shut behind them, Gia felt her stomach flip in nervousness. “I’m sorry,” she immediately blurted when pulling off her hairnet.
“Sorry for what, G?” Tony smoothed a flyaway curl behind her ear.
“The meeting. Nine a.m. It’s not going to work for me.”
“Why not?” he gave a light chuckle of confusion.
“Please don’t hate me. I accepted a 3-day gig with Forks and Knives to be a food critic on a cruise ship.”
“You’re going to be a food critic?”
“Yes, and it will be televised on all of the local news channels.”
Surprisingly, Tony’s face softened with a smile. “That’s great news, G.” He affectionately squeezed her upper arm, stroking it with a thumb.
“Wait. You’re not mad?”
“Of course not. This is big news for you. I’m not mad. I’m proud.”
"But… I'm not only supposed to be here for the bistro but for helping solve the case of your mother's murder."
“It’s been years. It can wait a few more days.” He scratched the back of his neck. “In the meantime, I’ve already put some feelers out about the case.”
An unseen weight lifted off of Gia, and as she looked up into her boyfriend's kind and beautiful brown eyes she sighed. He leaned in and kissed her lips for a long moment.
Tony's phone rang, popping the peaceful, heart-fluttering bubble that Gia was taking flight in. He checked the number calling through and with a look of anticipation, answered it. "Hi, Luke. What's up? Whatcha got for me?"
Where had Gia heard that name before? Wait… Was that the same guy who met with Tony about insider tips into the Giovannis? She could hear the rough man’s deep response clearly: “Man, have I got some news for you. Pack your bags, because you’ve got a ship to catch.”
4
“I already booked your cabin,” Mike said that night, sitting at the bar at Slim’s. It was a clean, well-lit establishment. The scent of seasoned burger and wedge fries filled the air. Although he had spoken so confidently about holding a meeting here, his attire proved differently. From the oversized fishing hat to the dark sunglasses. And then there was the fake mustache.
Tony, sitting between his dad and Gia, set down his tall glass of beer. “What do you mean you already booked my cabin? How did you know I was going on the cruise?”
Lightly chuckling, Mike said quietly under his breath, “Son, you’re not the only one with mafia connections.” He took a sip of his gin. “My source told me months ago about the Giovannis’ plan to set sail.”
“Oh.” Tony scrunched his brow in understanding.
“And Ms. Gia here”—he pointed his thumb toward her—”you are the key to this whole investigation aboard ship. You know why?”
“I am? Why?” Gia was nibbling on chili cheese fries that could rival In the Box bistro’s.
“Because your family owns the cruise line.”
Tony knew he was speaking of her cousin Jennie’s parents. Gia slowly nodded. “They’re family, but what do you mean, Mr. Santino?”
Mike chuckled again and rubbed his mouth, rustling the heavy mustache. “You kids have a lot to learn. Family is everything. By having a close connection to your aunt and uncle, Gia, you’re going to be able to enter places no one else can. Want to hang out with the captain? No problem. He’d probably even let you steer. Catch my drift?”
Gia nodded. It made Tony nervous thinking about her being involved in such a dangerous case. He knew if he told her she couldn’t be a part of the investigation that she’d just stow away in a suitcase. There was no telling her no. If anyone would dare hurt her, being wrapped up in this mess, he’d—
“Let’s go sit over there,” Mike interrupted his thoughts.
A booth nearby had opened up. A young busboy was clearing plates into a tub and wiping the table down. The three went over and sat, Gia and Tony now across from Mike. Beside them, on the wall, were framed pictures. It was a variety that spanned up to thirty years ago. Pointing with his thumb, Mike said, "What do you see?"
Tony scanned the photos of patrons enjoying their burgers or brew. When he was about to give up and say "I don't know," his eyes locked onto a photo of a woman with shiny and full black hair. She had a familiar sweet smile. "Mom," he uttered.
“This is why I brought you here,” Mike said. “This was the last photo taken of Rose.” He looked at Gia with a smile. “She’s a knockout, right?”
“Definitely,” Gia replied. “I still remember her.”
“It was taken the night of the murder,” Mike informed.
A flash of his mom’s bloody body sprawled across the kitchen floor assaulted Tony’s thoughts. She was in the same sapphire blue top. Was wearing the same gold hoop earrings.
“Recently, I was retracing the events of that evening,” Mike solemnly said. “I came here and stumbled upon this photo. What I believe is a key piece to this mystery. Slim’s used to be a nightclub. Rose and I were out dancing. Anyway, I was having a meeting with the head honcho of the Giovannis later that evening. Slim himself. I won’t bore you with the seedy details, but let’s just say he owed me a favor.”
He cleared hi
s throat and continued. “Rose didn’t know what was up. It was soon time for my meeting with Slim, and so he said he’d have one his guys take her home. Make sure she’d get back safe.” The pain of reliving that was evident in his tight expression and watering eyes. “The rest is history,” he choked back.
Tony's eyes stung, and he realized he too was on the verge of tears. "I'll do everything in my power…" he said, choking back his own words. He felt a hand on his knee and turned to look at Gia, who also had red and watery eyes.
They were both completely in. No going back.
Mike pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket. But he didn’t use it to wipe tears. No, he instead gently opened it atop the table. Nestled within the carefully folded linen, something soon glistened up at them all. A red gemstone. “I’ve never seen one like it. I had a jeweler look it over. Turns out, it’s a rare Burmese ruby with a vintage cut.” Mike pinched it between his finger and thumb and held it up. It was almost the size of a dime, it was so large. “I found this on the kitchen floor, at the scene of the crime.” He stared at it for a long moment.
Tony and Gia were quiet, verging on reverent.
He placed it back into the handkerchief. “Back then, I was certain this was a key piece to solving the crime. I couldn’t tell the cops about the Giovannis, though. You don’t rat out a mobster to the police. Ever. You have to take things into your own hands, underground, if you’re going to do anything at all.”
Tony and Gia knew that was the word on the street. It puts a target on your entire family to go to the police. Besides, the mafia seemed to have blackmail on even the sweetest citizens.
“Take a look at the picture again.” Mike gestured before putting the stone back into his pocket.
Tony looked again. What was he supposed to see? “Is that Uncle Sal back there?” he asked. He was kind of blurred, but Tony was sure that that was him in the corner, looking over at his mom.
“Yeah, Salvatore is in nearly every photo here. It’s like playing Where’s Waldo?. He loved the nightlife. Look closer... for something else.”
Gia burst, “That watch! It has the same rubies.” She pointed to a hand that was touching Rose’s shoulder. On the wrist was indeed a watch with two red gemstones, identical on either side of the watch’s face.
Tony’s heart pounded. “Who is that?” he asked.
Mike shrugged. “That’s the man who murdered your mom. It’s your job to find out who that is.”
<<<>>>
Petey in a carrying case, in one hand, and a rolling black suitcase pulled by the other, Gia approached the crystal coast of JewelCove in anticipation. A ship glistened atop its waters, inviting her to board. The sea salt air of the Atlantic Ocean enlivened her senses.
The last time she had been on a cruise was nearly four years ago for a family reunion. There were more Rizzos stuffed into that ship than mozzarella in her mom’s meatballs. And whether they liked it or not, those who weren’t a part of their clan were adopted into the family for 7 days of the wildest and craziest gathering known to man. The Hot Ciabatta Limbo and Cheese Doodle Dive should never be taken lightly.
Focusing back on the moment, Gia could hardly believe this was real. She was going to be a food critic! For Forks and Knives! On TV! Her nerves were bouncing all over the place. The only thing keeping her connected to Earth was the luck of her boyfriend coming along.
Tony rolled a suitcase alongside her. A large ramp was descended for passengers to board, and they were about to ascend. He paused to look up at the sky. “Can you believe it? The timing of everything working out for us to go together, it’s insane. It’s like fate is on our side. Maybe Mom is watching over me.”
Gia looked up at the sky of puffy white clouds amid baby blue with the same awe-inspiring feeling. Some of the main players of the Giovannis would be aboard the ship. Something to do with art smuggling, in fact. However, it wasn't her job to nab them for thievery. There was a bigger fish to fry. Yum, Gia thought. I hope they have smoked salmon bagels for breakfast.
Walking up the ramp, Gia asked, “You’re not too worried about In the Box while we’re gone?”
“Who says I’m not worried?” Tony chuckled, following alongside her. “Anyway, Julian promises he and the crew can come up with some marketing ideas while we’re away. I guess why have a supervisor in the first place if I can’t trust him to sometimes lead? Right?”
“As long as he doesn’t start posing nude to attract customers,” Gia said wryly, thinking of his recent modeling gig at the seniors’ art class.
“Mrs. Robinson was his only fan, so I think we’re safe.”
“Have you told Uncle Sal about our trip?”
"I don't want to make him worry any further," Tony said, shaking his head. "I'm going to let him relax with some piña coladas and bleached-blond gold diggers."
“Are you afraid of running into him on this trip?”
“Here, no. He was calling me from Mexico.”
But Gia had caught sight of a large familiar man whose double-chin hosted a signature black and gray goatee. He was waddling up the ramp several people away, ahead of them, in flip-flops and a red Hawaiian shirt. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that him?" She pointed.
“Who? Where?” Tony looked like he was about to jump out of his tan skin. “Oh no.”
“Oh, yes.” Gia smirked. “What happened to Mexico?”
"I-I don't know. I guess I assumed wrong." He rubbed a hand through his dark hair, looking like he could sweat any second. "I mean, I heard him doing a terrible job of speaking Spanish to a local."
"You mean that local?" Gia pointed her chin toward the dark-haired beauty to Uncle Sal's left. The Latina woman had big bright eyes, big full lips and two other things that were big but like The Artist Formerly Known as Prince will remain unnamed.
“He’s going to kill me for taking time off. Maybe this trip isn’t such a good idea.” Tony glanced around in worry.
“Oh come on. A little over-dramatic, aren’t we? Uncle Sal wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’ll be happy to see you. Just tell him In the Box is in good hands.”
“But it’s not!”
“It’s not?!”
“No, do you really think I trust a self-proclaimed model and pony boy to manage it?” His eyes showed utter fear.
“What happened to the confidence you had in your supervisor?” Gia couldn’t help but feel entertained.
“Who was I kidding, G? I can’t leave the bistro up to Julian!”
“It’s only five days, remember? You also have Greta. She can do what Julian can’t. If we’re being honest, she’ll do more bossing around than anybody. And that’s a good thing!”
Coming to a halt, Tony gestured toward his uncle and his uncle's exotic lady friend. "But it's Uncle Sal. He may be about booze and babes, but there's a serious side to him. He'll ream me for taking time off."
Just then, the lady friend dropped something, and it came rolling backward, down the ramp. "Oh no!" she called out. She came dashing through several people. In red heels, she stepped on the golden item just short of Tony's own feet. "Lo siento,” she said, retrieving what looked like a coin. She opened her clutch purse and stuffed it back inside.
Tony turned white and didn’t respond.
“Tony?! Is that you?” came the voice of Uncle Sal. He waddled toward him, not carrying any luggage, as he must have opted for delivery to his cabin. There was a definite angry edge to his tone.
Gia felt mortified for Tony. But at the last moment, Uncle Sal suddenly turned to Gia, and his squinty eyes opened wide in delighted surprise. “Well, hot pastrami! Is that you, Gia Rizzo? I haven’t seen your face in years!” He eyed her up and down. “Look at you! You’ve grown into a lovely young woman.”
“Thank you,” Gia said, feeling a little uneasy over the circumstances still, but smiled nonetheless.
Uncle Sal turned back to Tony. His smile faded. “What’s up, Tone-Tone?” He glanced at his Rolex. “Aren’t you supposed to be having a
meeting right about now with your staff?”
“Uh, yes, but there’s been a change of plans.”
The big man scrunched his brow. “Really? So what are you two doing here? Eloping or what?”
Gia felt her face turn hot and red. She shook her head and was about to speak, but Tony interrupted.
“Uh, we thought about it but no.”
We did?!
He continued, “G’s been invited as a food critic for Forks and Knives. It’s a big deal.”
“And you came with her because....” Uncle Sal rolled a thick hand, waiting for the explanation.
“Because, well, I haven’t formally asked her to marry me yet. I was going to pop the question to her live on TV.”
Gia’s jaw couldn’t drop any further. Her heart felt like it was going to leap from her chest like a flying fish, over the ramp, down to the sea below. But then the logical side of her brain, the one without strange imaginings of hearts popping out of chests, told her to calm down. It was just a cover. Tony obviously couldn’t tell Uncle Sal that he was going to be snooping around the Giovannis to find his mother’s true killer. They had promised to keep Mike and the investigation a secret.
Tony glanced at Gia uncomfortably, and quickly added, “But I guess the proposal won’t be a surprise now, so I’ll have to think up something else.”
There was the perfect out. He was clever. Now Gia’s heart felt a momentary pang over proposals and marriage being brought up only for them to be retracted seconds later.
Uncle Sal’s lady pressed a hand of long and glistening magenta nails against her ample chest. “Muy romantico.”
Uncle Sal turned to her. “Angelica, this is no muy romantic-o. I ruined the surprise-o.” He opened his arms and reached for Gia. “Sorry, hon. It’s so good to see you, kid,” he said, even though she must have been the same age as the other woman. As he bear-hugged her, he added, “You two make a picture-perfect couple.”
Just like that, Uncle Sal seemed to have forgotten about the bistro. Family first. That was a motto for most Italians. “Sorry to have questioned you, Tone-Tone.”