Murder Dressed and Tossed

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Murder Dressed and Tossed Page 3

by Zoey Kane


  “It’s okay,” Tony said, waving it away. Gia could have sworn she saw a bit of G.U.I.L.T. flash across his face.

  As the four headed up the ramp together, a group of Italian men passed by. Tony gave Gia an inconspicuous nudge with an elbow, signaling that they were Giovannis. She watched them in interest, each dressed in a suit and rolling an unusually large suitcase. Probably some artwork to be illegally exported, she mused. It’s no wonder they didn’t opt for delivery to their cabins. Unfortunately, she couldn’t get a good look at any of their wrists, as their sleeves and cuffs did a good job of hiding them. How were they going to find out who owns the watch, the clue to solving the case?

  She soon ended up behind the suspects in the ticket line.

  Petey started snapping and barking, even lunging within his carrying case at the strange men. Quietly under her breath, Gia ordered, “Stop it. Stop, Petey, this instant.”

  Who was she kidding? Her dog wasn’t the obedient-take-orders kind of pet. No, he was the rebellious sneak-ten-bacons-and-eat-ladybugs-for-dessert and then relieve-himself-on-the-bath-rug kind.

  A couple of the men turned their heads to see the commotion.

  Tony looked away like he didn't want to draw attention. Gia gave a cringing smile and said sorry to the men, or more appropriately, suspects.

  One man had sunglasses on, but Gia could see the faint image of his eyes narrowing in thought as he slowly and sinisterly scanned her and then Tony. Probably in his late fifties, he had a large nose and veins protruding in his beefy neck. Not a pretty sight. It made her shiver, and she looked away to take a deep breath.

  5

  Tony kissed Gia momentarily goodbye when they headed in opposite directions to their cabins. She hoped her boyfriend was really up to the challenge of dealing with the mafia. The thought was beginning to turn her blood to ice as regret tried taking a hold.

  Once Gia entered her assigned cabin by Forks and Knives, she was immediately distracted. An older woman with chopsticks in her frazzled blonde hair greeted, “Hi, I’m—”

  “Belinda Little! Of course!” Gia said, extending a hand. “It’s an honor to meet you. I’ve watched all of your cooking episodes. I look up to you so much.”

  "Don't be a brown-noser, hon." Belinda shook Gia's hand with a firm grip and smiled. "For this trip, at least, consider us equals. I read some of your blogs on the drive up here, and I must say, I see why they hired you. You're fabulous."

  “Well, thank you!” Gia wiped her jeans of the sweat that had suddenly formed on clammy hands. “I’m not that great, but—”

  "Don't be a self-deprecator, either, hon. Nobody likes them. Like I said, you're fabulous."

  “Okay then.” Gia gave a smile of forced confidence and acceptance. “I’m fabulous!” She giggled.

  Belinda patted Gia on the upper arm. "Don't be too full of yourself. That's prideful." The woman stepped around Gia's luggage to the door, and said before exiting, "We have a meeting with the director at five in the Starlight Buffet’s kitchen. No judging today. That will start tomorrow. I'm off to meet Pierre for brunch."

  She was talking about Pierre DeLeon, the third judge. Only after Belinda shut the door did Gia have the sad epiphany that she wasn’t invited. “Have fun,” she spoke to the air.

  After Gia finished unpacking, hanging up her cocktail dresses beside Belinda's hippie mumus, she took a moment to lay on the second bed with her furry little companion. "This is going to be one crazy cruise."

  Petey’s chocolate-colored eyes looked at her incredulously.

  "Okay, not crazy like a Rizzo reunion cruise, but still crazy." Her heart pounded, and she fluffed her pillow up under her neck.

  An announcement came through a speaker on a wood-paneled wall. "Welcome to The Bellanova, one of five expedition ships in the Peterson Cruise Line. This is your captain Bob speaking. The skies are sunny with patches of clouds. Expect good weather for tonight. Tomorrow there will be light showers."

  Her phone rang. Seeing it was Jennie, she answered.

  “Mom called and told me your name was put on will call. Why didn’t you tell me you were going on a 3-day cruise, and on my parents’ ship? You have a lot of explaining to do, Missy.”

  “Don’t be upset. It’s for work. I got a gig as a food critic.”

  “I checked the guest list and saw Tony’s there with you. And a bunch of the Giovannis. Don’t tell me this is some cover to be solving his mom’s murder.” After a long pause, she continued angrily, “Gia. Is it? Or is it not? Answer me.”

  “It just worked out that way,” Gia said innocently.

  “Well, why in the world didn’t you invite me to come along? You know I love murder mysteries too! And food!”

  Gia sat up in bed and Petey repositioned himself to get more comfortable. “Why didn’t you say anything like this yesterday morning when I called?”

  “Because I had an emergency on my hands. Duh. Thankfully I got the chili juice out of my top with some leave-in stain lifter. Wanna see?”

  “Sure, text me a picture.” Gia sighed.

  But instead of a Ding, she heard a knock at the cabin door. "It's me, open up."

  <<<>>>

  In his cabin, Tony viewed the photo from Slim’s. He had taken a snapshot with his phone and then made a copy of it at home on his color printer. He stared at the watch, wanting to sear the image into his mind. It was large and gold, the band made of traditional links. What wasn’t traditional were the huge rubies on either side of the clock’s face.

  A knock at the door startled Tony. It was too aggressive to be Gia. It made his heart thump to imagine it was a Giovanni. As Tony’s luck would have it, his cabin was directly across from some of the mafia men.

  “Who is it?” he called.

  “Let me in, Tone-Tone. I have some party glasses to give you for the sail-away deck party.”

  Tony got up and opened the door. Uncle Sal came right in, having a jovial attitude. “Here, for you and Gia. Matching flutes.” They were still in a box, looking like they came from one of the gift shops aboard ship.

  “Thanks,” Tony said, accepting them. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Yes, I did. After ruining the surprise proposal.” He nudged him with a calloused elbow and slumped onto the office chair that groaned in protest. “What’s this?” He picked up the picture of his mom.

  “Just a picture, you know.” Tony scratched the back of his neck, not wanting to leak anything. “I think of her still. Just wanted to bring it.”

  Uncle Sal wolf whistled. “Your mom not only had beauty but class. I’m telling you, she was one of a kind. Hey, look, there’s me!” He happily pointed at himself in the background. “And there’s that gaudy heirloom of a watch too!”

  “Wait, you know about that watch?” Tony hovered over him in interest, staring at the image.

  “Uh, yeah, I remember seeing it. I mean, who forgets a watch like that?”

  "Wh-who did it belong to?" Tony stood straight, trying to sound nonchalant and doing a poor job of it.

  Dropping the photo back onto the desk, Uncle Sal responded, “Psh, heck if I know, Tone-Tone. The watch must have been more memorable than the person wearing it.”

  “You said it was an heirloom?”

  “I did?”

  “Yeah, how did you know it was an heirloom?”

  “Oh.” He rubbed his goatee. “Well, why else would someone wear something as horrid, though expensive, as that? Like your ma, it was one of a kind. But the watch was one of a kind in a bad way. Too flashy. Probably belonged to a Giovanni, if I’d have to say. That’s taken at Slim’s. I can tell by the disco ball lighting.”

  “Okay,” Tony said, disappointed his uncle didn’t have more info. At least he thought it belonged to a Giovanni. That helped hold up his dad’s claim.

  "Speaking of Giovannis..." Uncle Sal lowered his voice as if they had spies lurking in the small cabin bathroom. "Did you know this cruise ship is crawling with them? Other than the few th
at were ahead of us in line, I've seen clusters of them around the casino and even the buffet."

  “You already tour the ship or what?” Tony laughed, trying to imagine his big uncle exercising that much.

  “It’s Angelica. She makes me chase her. She wanted to see a couple of the main hotspots before going to our cabin. Who was I to say no?”

  6

  Gia was happy Jennie decided to crash the investigation. She needed someone other than Tony to vent to sometimes. And her cousin's crop top looked amazing on her tall and slender frame. Hugging Jennie was always a feat, as she had to stand on her tiptoes, but it was worth it.

  “I’m excited you’re here,” Gia said, walking down the hallway with Jennie to go get breakfast. She had texted Tony where she’d be and got a response that he might join her soon. He was visiting with Uncle Sal for a bit.

  Plates stacked with fresh fruit, pancakes drenched in syrup, and scrambled eggs tangled in gooey cheddar cheese, the two found a table overlooking the sea to enjoy their meal. The ship was set to sail off that evening. For now, guests were settling into their cabins, grabbing bites to eat, and touring the decks.

  “Check this out,” Jennie said, pulling an iPad out of her beachy straw tote. Utilizing its case, she set it up erect on the table. She logged into the cruise line’s website as an Admin and navigated some back-end information. “I’ve got the dinner seating charts here, for both 6 o’clock and 8 o’clock. With this link over here, you can check the entire guest list of who’s aboard ship, and their accompanying cabin numbers.”

  “Do you know how amazing this is?!” Gia said, clapping.

  “Yes, yes, I do. This is going to make your snooping around so much easier.”

  “Just how many Giovannis do we have aboard?” Gia asked.

  Jennie used a search function and came up with a list. “About thirty?”

  It was a daunting amount. Gia sighed.

  “How are you planning on investigating, anyway?” her cousin asked.

  “There’s a watch...” Gia paused to glance at her surroundings and lower her voice. “There’s a watch that’s connected to the killer. One of its rubies was found at the crime scene by Mike Santino himself. It belongs to a Giovanni. I just need to find out who.”

  “Yeah, how do you plan on doing that? By interviewing each one? Wouldn’t that tip them off?”

  “Yes, it would. I don’t know.” Gia caught sight of Belinda and Pierre sitting in a far corner cove, mingling together like old friends. She sighed again.

  “I know,” Jennie said, perking up. “How about I do a little rearranging of a seating chart?”

  “You mean for tonight’s dinner?”

  “Yep.” Long, slender fingers tapped around until Jennie was satisfied. “There. Done. At six, you and Tony will be having dinner with several suspects.”

  “Sounds amazing,” Gia said. “I’ll just be a little late due to a business meeting.”

  <<<>>>

  At six, Tony entered the dining room feeling nervous. His date was still at her business meeting, and who knew how long that would take. When he took his seat across from some sleek Italians with serious-to-frowning dispositions, he knew he was entering a snake pit. Mustering courage, he sat amidst them alone and pulled on one of his cufflinks. “Evening,” he said.

  “Who are you and where’s Leonardo?” one right across from him asked. He had a bulbous nose with shiny deep pores like an orange peel.

  “I’m sorry, is this table ten?” Tony feigned confusion.

  The men looked at each other. “It’s table ten, slick,” a thin man replied.

  Another whistled and raised a hand for a waiter walking by. The young man halted his steps and said, “What can I do for you, sir?”

  “Excuse me, but who is this yahoo sitting with us? Where’s Leo?”

  “Leo who?”

  “Giovanni,” a couple said in unison, frustrated.

  That's right, with their massive egos, everyone from JewelCove to Timbuktu was supposed to know who they were.

  “Let me go check.” The waiter scurried toward the hostess desk.

  Clearing his throat, Tony glanced at the empty seat beside him, awaiting Gia. He then looked back up and said, “How is everyone tonight?”

  “Nonplussed,” the one with the big nose said. “Or can’t you tell?”

  "The place looks packed; otherwise I would offer to take a seat somewhere else. I'm sorry, guys."

  A moment later, the waiter returned, pressing his hands together. “I apologize, gentlemen. Leo Giovanni’s reservation has been made for the eight o’clock dinner.”

  “But he’s in the same cabin as me,” Big Nose said. “How does that make sense?”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I just follow the hostess’s orders.”

  As the Giovannis ordered wine, and took time to look over their menus, or precisely place their royal blue napkins over their laps, Tony's eyes scanned their wrists.

  Beneath one man's sleeve, a golden watch band glinted in the light of the table top's small decorative lamps.

  <<<>>>

  Meanwhile, Gia was keenly keeping track of the time displayed on a microwave. It was now 6:15 and still the director of the food competition was going over instructions. She should have known it would be longer than an hour!

  The back kitchen area of the main buffet was cold, making goosebumps prickle up in protest. Being in a simple black cocktail dress, Gia didn't have sleeves. She tried not to think about the frigid air, but a worker was going in and out of the walk-in freezer, releasing an icy breath in her direction, every single time. Once in a while, she'd give in to rubbing her arms, but had a complex that it merely made her appear extra nervous.

  Not only were there three judges but three competitors. Pierre and Belinda, being seasoned food critics, had everything down pat. However, this was Gia's first ever TV rehearsal. It was made very apparent that it was mostly for her benefit.

  Three empty platters sat before the three judges. Tonight, it was their job to pretend they were filled with delectable meals, and to thus appropriately comment on them. Gia kept getting the contestants' names mixed up, and she could hardly think of what to say about imaginary dinners. She was drawing blanks more often than not. Apparently, calling her imaginary rib-eye steak "sweet and sour" and her imaginary sweet and sour pork "rare and juicy" was considered a no-no.

  “I hope you don’t have trouble tomorrow, Ms. Rizzo,” the director said, looking down her nose through small spectacles.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m just used to… actually seeing and tasting my food.” She gave a nervous giggle that wasn’t reciprocated with an understanding smile. “I’ll do a million times better during the live competition. I swear.”

  After a fruitless twenty minutes more, the director called it a wrap. They could adjourn. Gia walked calmly to the swinging double doors, and once through, took off in a sprint.

  7

  “I expected my girlfriend to be here by now,” Tony said out loud with a grumble. He turned to the man who had a gold watch and asked, “Can you tell me what time it is?”

  The Giovanni went to lift his sleeve, when suddenly a different man a couple seats down flatly announced, “6:40.” He had his phone out. The man with the watch relaxed his wrist back on the table before taking a sip of wine.

  Tony’s simple plan was foiled. Again, all he could see was a faint golden glint. “What will you fellas be doing after this?” he decided to ask, picking apart a piece of his bread.

  The man with the watch answered, “Craps.”

  Nodding, Tony said, “You like to gamble too?”

  “No, Lenny’s talking about his IBS,” one man drawled out in amusement.

  “So Whattabout it?” Lenny gave a double-dog-dare stare, and the Giovannis chuckled darkly.

  “Oh,” Tony said, forcing his own chuckle. “We all get a little IBS sometimes. Right, guys?”

  Everyone frowned at that comment. "No," a man to his
right replied. "He was being sarcastic. Apparently, you weren't, Mr. Poopy Pants."

  That made them roar in laughter.

  “I like it,” the man with the big nose said. “That will be your new name from now on. Has a ring to it. Mr. Poopy Pants.”

  “Heh,” Tony said, squinting his eyes. “My Uncle calls me Tone-Tone. I think that one has a better ring to it.”

  “No, Mr. Poopy Pants is better.”

  "Wait a minute," Lenny said and hushed the others. "You're Santino's kid?"

  Tony wasn’t sure if he should say one way or the other. “Y-yes?”

  Faces became serious. "I thought there was something familiar about you." Lenny reached across the table for a handshake. "My respects to your mamma."

  Tony accepted the hand and saw the watch peek out from its hiding spot. It didn’t have any rubies. It was a classic gold watch. “Thank you.”

  A few others murmured in respect:

  “May she rest in peace.”

  “Belle Fiore.”

  “Chi be vive, ben muore.”

  The condolences surprisingly touched Tony to the core. He had to remember that this same group could meet him in an alley with brass knuckles.

  The six mafia men lifted their champagne glasses in a toast. “To your mamma.”

  Tony lifted and clanked his glass with each one. “Thank you.”

  After taking a drink, they quickly excused themselves to hit up the casino.

  When Gia arrived, the table was empty but for Tony. “Oh no,” she said with an apologetic expression. “I missed everything.”

  In a melancholy mood, Tony offered a sad smile. “It’s okay, G. Sit and eat.”

  “What do you want to do after that? Go spying around with me?”

  "We have two more days. How about, tonight, we meet up with Uncle Sal and Angelica for the sail away ceremony and then have a little us time?" He raised his eyebrows up and down.

 

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