I avert my eyes at the thought. “It’s the sauce to cheese and pepperoni ratio that makes it so brilliant. Not to mention the crispy texture of the crust. I throw in a pinch more of seasoning into the sauce when I know I’m making calzones just to give it that extra oomph, too. Some of my best memories are of chomping down on my Nana Rose’s calzones. I used to drop a few in my purse before I hit the town on a Saturday night.” I shrug over at Shep. “I’ve always had a healthy appetite.”
A devilish grin slopes up the side of his face. “Let’s just say I appreciate your appetite.”
Regina groans, “Get a room.”
Shep’s brows hike my way. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“Regina is a genius.” I wink at the aforementioned Einstein.
Shepherd Wexler is so disturbingly handsome about seven different women have already tried to order him off the menu.
The door to the café opens, and both Opal and Mud bustle their way in.
Opal has King, her favorite Bengal cat, cradled in her arms, and she’s wearing a long brown and black coat that matches his striped and spotted fur.
Mud has his hands full with a large plastic bin, which he promptly sets on the counter next to Shep.
“Afternoon, my loves.” Opal drops a kiss to the top of King’s furry forehead when she says it.
Fun fact: now that I’ve gained another transmundane power, the ability to see the dead, I can talk to the myriad of cats that roam these haunted grounds, or at least I can by proxy. Hazel Newton was a teeny bit telesensual and didn’t know about it until she discovered the fact that can read the minds of animals. She hasn’t graduated to humans just yet, but as it stands she’s translated a few thoughts these cute kitties have had.
“Bowie.” Opal grimaces as she says my name. “It’s almost Valentine’s Day, and you’ve yet to take the initiative to transform the manor into a heart-shaped delight. I’m afraid your own amorous obsessions have distracted you from giving this place the attention it deserves. I’m going to have to decline that pay raise I was going to surprise you with.”
King whacks her in the face with his tail as they take off to greet the customers.
My mouth falls open as I look to Shep. “You cost me a raise.”
He glances my way. “Yeah, but I’m worth it.” He gives a quick wink before getting back to tapping at that keyboard.
“Valentine’s Day,” Mud grunts as my sister runs over.
“Did you just ask me to be your Valentine?” Stephanie strides up and wastes no time in sharing her delusions with us.
Mud slips off his denim ball cap and gives his blond greasy hair a quick scratch.
“Only if I get an invite to Sunday dinner.” He offers up a greasy smile to go with the hair.
“Done.” Stephanie gives him a high-five, and he takes off with a goofy grin pinned to his face. “Now to decide what to wear. It’s down to an old prom dress I picked up at the secondhand store or my old Valentine’s Day standby, a bathing suit.” I shoot her a look, and she scoffs. “What? It’s important to stand out on a night when everyone is looking their best,” she says as she proceeds to drain the plastic bin of all its foil-shaped hearts and Cupid cutouts. “I call dibs on decorating.”
Regina rolls her eyes. “Trust me, Lola. Nobody is going to fight you for a couple of cardboard cutouts and a handful of Scotch tape.”
Tilly rushes over from the kitchen and engages in a tug-of-war over a string of pink twinkle lights with my feisty sister.
“Let go. They’re mine!” Tilly calls out. “I’ve been decking the halls at the manor for the last five years.”
“Wrong holiday, sister,” Stephanie chirps. “Nobody does love like I do. When I’m done with this place, people will be spontaneously proposing to one another right after they enjoy the bacon and egg frittata we’re featuring this month.”
I moan at the thought. “The frittata has been a stellar hit. But the chicken cacciatore I’m working on is about to steal the show.”
“Save room, Shep.” Stephanie nods his way. “If you think Bowie’s calzones are a treat, you’re going to want to wife her once you’ve tasted her cacciatore.”
“Ignore her,” I tell him without actually making eye contact with the poor guy. Truthfully, I don’t want him to see the fact I’m blushing. And strangely, the fact I’m blushing irritates me on some level.
Regina steps in close. “You should ignore her, Bowie. Shep’s not the marrying kind.”
“Lucky for me.” I flex a dry smile his way. “I’m not exactly marriage material myself.” I’m guessing that whole secret identity, feds want to imprison me, mob wants me dead thing isn’t so appealing to most men, Shep included.
Shep’s lips curve with amusement as he glides his mug my way.
“More coffee, Kitten.”
And I quickly make all of his java dreams come true.
“So I’ve been thinking.” I lean in. “Since Opal wants to have a V-Day shindig, I thought we could turn it into something that might actually work in our favor. Why don’t we put a wrestling ring up in the ballroom? There’s still plenty of room for people to move and groove to the music, and that way Lola can work her bathing suit in and not look like a total lunatic?”
He nods. “And we can invite a suspect or two. I like it.”
Stephanie straightens. “I just thought of a great idea! Why not open it up to anyone who wants to jump into the ring? What’s hotter than a little couples wrestling?”
“Charging big bucks to enter the ring,” I say.
I’ll give it to Stephanie. Sometimes she comes up with a winner of an idea that makes my winner of an idea that much more of a winner.
Opal trots over, because clearly her moneymaking radar is on high alert.
“That’s a fantastic idea.” She strings the words out longer than necessary. “Now all we need is a signature drink to sell to the lovestruck fools, and we’ll make money hand over fist.”
“Hand over heart,” I tell her. “It is Valentine’s Day.”
Opal chortles at the thought. “And don’t forget to charge a premium for admission. We’ll need to start selling tickets right away. Throw in something juicy to lure them in.”
“Like Nana Rose’s cookies?” I ask.
Regina snorts. “Like the name of a good divorce attorney and maybe a couple of coupons for a free STD exam the morning after.”
Opal taps the side of her cheek. “I’m thinking more along the lines of adopt a cat for the night as your date. That should take the pressure off the women who feel obligated to conform to the societal demand of dating.”
I nod. “Wrestling with love while dating a cat. I think we’ve got a solid theme going. Anyone with a hint of psychosis should feel right at home. I’ll get cracking on bringing in the bodies.”
The door swings open, and a hearty groan evicts from me once I spot Goon One and Goon Two.
Stephanie scuttles my way. “Speaking of bodies…”
Dom and Enzo stride in, clad in suits, looking lean and mean and ready to rumble.
Tilly, Stephanie, and Regina all sigh in unison.
Dom’s chest expands as he takes in a deep breath. “Mother of all things holy. What are you cooking in that kitchen, woman?” He looks my way, demanding answers.
“Chicken cacciatore. A top secret recipe that’s impossible to replicate.” I toss that last bit in in the event they get any funny ideas. “And unlucky for you, we just ran out.” I’m not in the mood to feed Nana Rose’s goodness to the heretics before me.
“Gentlemen.” Shep closes his laptop as they each take a seat on either side of him at the counter. “What brings you to Starry Falls?”
I bite down hard on my lip because I’ve yet to tell Shep about the fact Dom spoke with my Uncle Vinnie and now has Johnny Rizzo’s number on speed dial.
Dom glances my way. “Funeral.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” I say, landing two cups of coffee in front of them in record time. I can
’t help it. It’s the Italian hospitality in me.
“Eh.” Enzo shrugs, causing his suit to stretch tight in appreciation of his muscles. “It’s an occupational hazard.”
“Really?” Regina steps up, looking more than mildly interested in the two dark knights that just swooped in. “What line of work are the two of you in?”
This should be rich.
Dom takes a moment to size her up. “We’re in the restaurant business, sweetie. If you ever feel the need to earn some real money, head up to Scooter Springs some time. For a honey like you, I’ll always have a position available.”
“What about me?” Tilly looks more than mildly offended. “I’ve been faithful to the two of you, and you both know it.”
“Yeah, me too.” Stephanie looks fit to be tied. “After all that I’ve done for the two of you—to the two of you—if anyone deserves real money, it’s me.”
Enzo holds up his hands. “Ladies, ladies, there’s room for all of you at our home.” His lids hood low as he looks to Regina. “Among other, far more specific rooms in my house.”
Tilly gasps. “Dom, would you be my date for the Wrestling with Love and Cats Valentine’s Day Dance we’re hosting? I’m looking for a man’s man to hold my hand”—she leans in hard—“among other, far more specific parts of my body.”
“Here we go,” I mutter.
“Anything for you, honey.” He blows her a kiss just as a crowd moves in.
“Tilly, take the guests to their tables.” I make crazy eyes at her until she snatches up a pile of menus.
“You’d better be nice to me, Bowie Binx.” She bites down on a flirtatious smile as she looks to Dom. “I’ve got other, far more lucrative employment opportunities on the horizon.” She disappears with a giggle and a wiggle.
Regina leans in and takes up Enzo’s hand. “How about you, hot stuff? You looking for love in all the wrong places? If so, I’ve got an empty dance card, and if you’re very, very lucky, I’ll show you what I’m capable of doing with this body.”
I’m guessing the idea of dating a cat wasn’t all that appealing to Tilly or Regina.
Enzo all but drools. “Consider me there.”
I shove a couple of menus in Regina’s direction. “Fill some tables, would you?”
She blows Enzo a kiss as she takes off to do just that, and Stephanie all but growls at the men before us.
“How dare the two of you step out on me,” my sister snips. “Nobody steals my men in front of my face.” She lets out a sharp whistle, and both Tilly and Regina hop on back.
I won’t lie. I’m more than a little impressed by what my sister can accomplish with a little manipulation from her mouth.
“They’re not your men, Lola. They’re your enemies,” Shep points out.
Stephanie scowls over at him. “Ever hear of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer?” She looks to Tilly and Regina. “Sorry, ladies, but these men are taken. Now shuffle off and ask a cat to the big dance.”
“Now, now.” Enzo sheds a smile with a dangerous edge to it. “How about the three of you head up to the Boogie Bungalow tonight and wrestle it out? That’s the new place I just opened up, and I’m looking to christen it with a bevy of beauties.”
My curiosity is suddenly piqued. “You’ve got a wrestling ring at the Boogie Bungalow?”
Enzo nods. “Those Vegas broads inspired me. I’ve got the hot oil, the mud, and the whipped cream. You ladies bring the skimpy T-shirts. Winner takes all.” He holds out his hands as if showing us the grand prize and Dom does the same.
“Done,” Regina says as she glares over at Stephanie. “Be prepared to lose. I’m an expert at pinning people down. Just ask Shep.” She smears a grin my way before taking off for the tables once again.
Tilly snarls over at my saucy sister. “I’m this close to tossing you out of our girl gang, Lola. You better watch your back tonight.” She takes off as well, and my shoulders sag as I look to Shep.
“So much for tracking down Justin Delforio tonight. It looks as if my plans have changed.”
He nods. “It’s tough, but I think you made the right call. You watch the show, I’ll take care of the case.”
“You’re going to speak to him without me?”
“Yup. I’m a homicide detective, Bowie. Speaking to suspects is what I get paid to do.”
“If memory serves correct, I anteed up something far more valuable than money last night. Don’t you dare track down Justin without me.”
“Justin Delforio?” Dom glances to Enzo. “Isn’t that the clown that gave us his card right before the announcer took a bullet?”
Enzo lifts his chin. “I’ve been meaning to have an attorney on hand. Maybe I’ll invite him over to the club tonight to have a little chitchat.” He rolls his head my way. “Don’t ever say I didn’t do anything for you, sweetheart. Now see if you can find some of that cacciatore back there. I have a feeling you’ve got a little left in the pan for a couple of good friends.”
Shep tips his head my way. “That kills two birds with one stone.”
“You mean four,” I say. “It looks as if we won’t miss the show after all.” Here’s hoping we won’t miss the killer either.
Now if only I can find a way to kill Dom and Enzo’s desire to ruin my life.
And unfortunately, I think I’ll have to wrestle that one out a little bit longer.
Chapter 12
As much as I don’t want to admit it, Dom and Enzo really came through for me this evening.
Not only do I get to give another suspect the shakedown, but I get to see Stephanie, Tilly, and Regina wrestling it out in the ring. I’m not sure which event I’m looking forward to most.
The Boogie Bungalow is a spacious dark club with far too loud music that thumps through your chest, gaggles of beautiful women, hordes of hot-to-trot men, and an entire army of bartenders eager to make your inebriated dreams come true. There’s also a smattering of tables laden with whatever offerings happen to be on the menu.
The wrestling ring is off to the right and looks like a giant blowup kiddie pool you’d find at your standard frat house party.
But despite missing out on all the glitz and the glam that the women from the Vegas wrestling circuit treated us to, Stephanie and Tilly are already in there getting slopped up with the olive oil that Enzo provided—Italians never skimp on the good stuff—while circling one another, just waiting to pounce in a vat full of mud. Things are about to get gooey and dirty, and I’ve got my phone poised, ready to capture each muddy moment.
“Bowie”—Opal leans my way with the armful of cats she saw fit to bring along with her—“remind me to dock their pay for thinking this was a good idea.”
“I’ll do it, but you’ll run the risk of getting booted out of that girl gang you’re a part of.”
“I’ll run the risk.”
The cats all struggle to get a better look at the ring. Opal couldn’t decide if King, Matilda, a fluffy white Persian, or Lucky, a black cat with one eye, matched her outfit better—a green brocade number that looks as if it was plucked straight out of the Regency era—so she brought all three. If I’m learning anything from Opal, it’s when in doubt, bring cats.
Shep steps up with a fruity drink for me and a beer for him.
“Who do you think will dominate?” He rocks back on his heels as we wait for the action to start.
“I don’t know,” I say as I point over to a familiar woman with chestnut hair stepping into the ring with them. “But with Regina in the mix, things are about to get interesting.”
Opal gasps. “Is it too late to take bets? My money is on Regina. But since there are two men, there will be two winners. It’s a toss-up between Lola and Tilly.”
“Not really.” I sigh. “Lola is fighting for both men. She was never good at sharing her toys.”
Shep tucks his mouth next to my ear. “Speaking of bets, Justin and Enzo look as if they’re finishing up at the bar. We’d better head over if we wan
t an introduction.”
“You mean we as in me.” I give him the stink eye. “You can’t go trying to have an impromptu conversation with a suspect. You’re the homicide detective in charge of the case, for Pete’s sake. He’ll clam up, and we may never know who killed Frisk Foster. You stay here and snap a few pictures that we can use as blackmail later with these three. I’ll dig up some dirt on who could have killed your buddy.” I start to take off, and Shep reels me back.
“All right, Bowie, you win,” he says without any trace of a smile. And judging by the way my stomach just pinched tightly, it’s a good look on him, too. “But I’ll be standing right here watching the whole thing. Remember, I’ve got a gun and I’m not afraid to use it. Especially if Justin decides to put the moves on you.”
“Good to know.” I hand my fruity drink to Opal. “Drink up. I’m in the mood for something a lot more dangerous with a legal twist.”
Shep and I take off for the bar just as the crowd goes wild, and I glance back just in time to see Stephanie fly through the air and land on her back.
Ouch.
Knowing my sister, someone is going to pay for that.
It’s all Justin’s fault that I’m missing the good stuff. He had better turn out to be the killer, or I’m going to act on a few murderous intentions of my own.
Justin Delforio is tall, built like a wrestler himself, stuffed in a gray suit with dark hair and light eyes. And don’t think he hasn’t garnered the attention of a woman or two. He’s got skirts in every shape and size circling, just waiting for a break in the conversation between those two.
Dom is at the foot of the ring supervising the melee while Enzo is picking up the slack by laughing at whatever Justin just filled his head with.
I waste no time wiggling my way in between the two of them. “Whiskey neat, please,” I say to the bartender, and he shoots it back to me in record time.
“Enzo.” I hold up my glass as if I was toasting him. “You’ve really turned this joint into a class act. The Boogie Bungalow is the place to be in Scooter Springs.” If you want to amass a certain reputation. I take a moment to size up Justin. “And who’s this tall drink of water?” Okay, so maybe there was a better way to break the ice without making it sound like a come-on, but it’s not easy thinking fast on your feet. A part of me feels a teeny bit bad that I may just lead Justin down a path that forces Shep to part with a bullet.
A Purr-fect Storm Page 10