Empty Promises and Crowded Caskets

Home > Other > Empty Promises and Crowded Caskets > Page 5
Empty Promises and Crowded Caskets Page 5

by Ana Bisset

The waitress picked this moment to deliver our orders, “I’m great, thanks.” I picked up my fork and took a bite on my potato skins.

  “I think you should go, Kyle,” Mel said.

  Usually, it’s Nikki who takes a hard line with someone when they are rude. It had to hurt to have Mel ask you to go. But, I wasn’t in the mood to make him feel better, so I kept eating.

  “Okay, but I am going to need some answers, no matter who it hurts. See you girls around.” He left the table and went over to the bar.

  “I looked around to make sure no one was paying us any attention, no need to have a repeat of that. Tomorrow, we meet at Mel’s apartment after she gets home from work. We’ll snowmobile over to the Smith house and check it out.” I said.

  “I’ll bring the pizza,” Nikki said.

  “Sounds like a great plan,” an excited Mel said.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I was glad to see the door was unlocked when I came home. It was late, and I didn’t relish trying to look for the key to my Grammie’s front door on my crowded keyring. I probably had every key I ever needed on this ring. Like other things in my life, it was time to organize and get rid of the ones I didn’t need.

  I was not happy, however, to see my grandmother, wrapped in one of her quilts, awake in the front room. She had been reading the travel magazines I had seen earlier and jotting something in a notebook.

  “Hello dear,” she said.

  “Hi. You know you don’t have to wait up for me,” I said, thinking it would be a problem if I were to live here on a more permanent basis.

  “I know. I just got back about an hour ago. I wouldn’t normally worry. But after tonight at the service, maybe, I was just a little worried this time. I won’t make a habit of it, Libby. You’re a grown woman,” she said. “I know that. Us old folks were young once too. Now we are being used to hide murders in our own caskets.”

  “Is John Smith still going to be laid to rest?” I asked.

  “According to the family, they have placed him in the vault to be buried after the spring like everybody else who passed this winter. I guess they gave him a new casket. Did you get time to talk to your friends?” she asked.

  “Yes, I did. Before and after the service. I wanted to talk to you a bit about what happened tonight if you can stay awake a few more minutes?” I said.

  She put the notebook and magazine down on the table next to her chair. Took off her glasses and placed them on top. “Of course. What is it? I’d say you look worried, but I know the day you had. Is there more?”

  “I don’t know if it is bad, or just something that is. I saw a ghost today when I went into the carriage house. I didn’t tell you about it because it was just one more thing on the list of things I needed to tell you. Honestly, I didn’t think it was important until the service. It was the ghost of the man in the casket with John Smith.”

  “Well, that is a bit troubling,” she said.

  “Right, but what is more troubling was my reaction to the body when it fell out of the casket. I was shocked, like everyone else, but it seems I said something aloud I should have kept to myself. Something made it seem like I knew the guy to Kyle, who was sitting next to me.” I told her, “And before you ask, no. I didn’t know the guy except first seeing him in the carriage house.”

  “How do you know Kyle heard you?” She asked.

  “He indicated as much when we were there, plus he stopped by our table at the bar to ask me about it. He didn’t buy my explanation, I don’t think.”

  “You’ve never shared that part of you with him, have you?” she asked. I knew Gramps had shared it with her when they were dating. There was always something kept me from telling Kyle all through high school.

  “No, I told myself I would share it with my husband. He never became my husband, so I didn’t tell him.” I said, jutting my chin out in pride a bit. My past still hurt. Maybe because I never really put him in my past.

  She stood up, folded the quilt placing it on the chair, stopped where I stood to rub my shoulder. “I can remember your Grandfather worrying about people not understanding the ability he had to see those who had passed on. He was an honest man, and it didn’t sit well with him to have to keep that part of himself secret. You’re a lot like him,” she sighed, “I’ll tell you what I always told him. You are not keeping anything from anyone that they need to know. There is no reason to feel guilty about it.”

  “Thanks, Grammie. That helps more than you know.” I meant it. I don’t like to think I am lying to those who don’t know about my gift. Getting a second opinion was helpful.

  We said good night to each other and went to bed.

  CHAPTER TEN

  I’m not as cold as I should be, I think as I walk through the backyard to the carriage house. Maine in winter, even the end of winter is much colder than this, I assure myself as my bare feet crunch through the snow.

  I open the carriage house door and walk into a day from yesteryear. All the lights are on, and the office is buzzing with reporters making sense of the week’s news. The Black Ridge Cove’s Post covers it all! National and local politics, crime from all over the country, and who would be riding on the Lil Miss Maine parade float this coming weekend. While not all the news from everywhere made it into the week’s edition. Covering all the news that was news was an important job that Gramps took seriously.

  “Hi, pumpkin,” he said as I walked in.

  “Hey,” I said skipping over to give him a hug as carefree as the days before I became an adult and walked away.

  “Something I can help you with?” he asked.

  “I’m looking for answers,” I said. “I’m not sure of the questions, though. Do you think you can help me?”

  “This sounds serious,” he says to me in the way he used to when I was a young girl, “why don’t we go into my office and discuss whatever it is that is bothering you. Your grandmother put maple candy in the jar.”

  My mouth watered. Candy made from Maine’s maple syrup was one of my favorites, something else I shared with my grandfather.

  I took after my father’s father in looks, mannerisms, and specific abilities. I was taller than average like him, we both had gray eyes and a broad smile, and we could both see people who had passed on from this life. While neither of us considered it a gift, we didn’t curse the ability either. It just was a part of who we are. He also could see auras, as I did when I was younger. I lost that skill sometime in high school and had never gotten it back.

  I sat in the chair in front of his desk across from him. He dug the candy out of the bowl and threw me a piece. He popped one in his mouth and asked, “What has you looking so worried?”

  I stared at the warm brown colored maple leaf shaped maple syrup candy in its clear cellophane wrapper. Cracked it open, put it in my mouth and let the sugary goodness take over for a full second before asking, “Why was he here in your office?”

  “Why was ‘who’ in my office?” he asked.

  I knew he knew who I meant because he looked afraid. I’ve never seen my grandfather look fearful in life. I would stake my life on knowing that he never feared anything. I, like most granddaughters who idolized their grandfathers, would be wrong. But that would not prevent me from saying he was the bravest man I knew. So, I didn’t bother to ask the question again.

  I got up and looked out of the office door at all the hustle and bustle of the news being captured, wrangled, and reported.

  “They are all so busy. They were always so busy.”

  “Yes, they are. I am, too. Do you want to tell me what is really bothering you?” he asked.

  “You promised I could run all of this one day.”

  “I did,” he said.

  “Did you change your mind?” I asked.

  “I did,” he said.

  The candy remained sweet in my mouth. I savored it as I knew its sweetness, as my grandfather’s presence, would come to an end as soon as I asked what I needed to know.

  “Why was he
here, Gramps?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Libby. But, I will tell you to take care of those you seek out as they will start to seek you out as well,” he said.

  I woke with a start to a dark bedroom, my feet cozily tucked in my quilt. Even so, I shivered at my grandfather’s warning. I know they say that you should get up and write down everything about a dream right after it happens, but I didn’t think there was any way I would forget one single second of the dream I had just had, because I don’t believe it was only a dream.

  I turned over and went back to sleep, this time blissfully unaware of any dreams.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The morning sun peered into my bedroom, asking me nicely if I was ready to get up and face a new day. If the day was going to be anything like yesterday, my answer was going to be ‘no’. But, without any real option, I peeled myself out of bed and got myself ready to face whatever might be coming. In the kitchen, I got a mug of coffee in the kitchen and sat at the table.

  I had developed a source over the last few years that had provided me with valuable information when it came to my files on the crime families of Boston Massachusetts and the greater New England area. The only problem: I didn’t know who it was. This meant that I was privy to information that could have been given to me by the bad guys, leading me to understand things the police would like to know.

  Or in the worst-case scenario, I would be told information to help the bad guys get what they wanted. So, while I felt some trust because of the length of time the relationship had gone on, I still tested the information before using it and would until I knew who my source was. That, of course, could never be.

  Anyway, it was time to touch base with him. And yes, I knew it was him. People who knew things like my source were not women. Plus, he liked to call me Chickie. Men do that with women they don’t know. Women tend to have more class.

  I got my phone out and sent a text to the number.

  Hey, you out there?

  He didn’t take any time getting back to me.

  Always here for you. What’s up?

  What does the Romano family have to do with those in Boston’s high places?

  Whoa, Chickie, that’s a loaded question. No, hey how are you? They used to be one of the families in Boston’s elite.

  Hey, how are you? What happened? Why the downfall?

  Not sure. Had something to do with a squabble with another family.

  Do you know Diego? Is it part of the Boston family? Good friend?

  Not personally but I heard he bought it somewhere up where you are at, right?

  How do you know he's up here? How did you know I was here?

  Don't get nervous, Chickie, I’m watching out for you…

  That might be why I should be nervous. So spill, I need to know why this guy was here.

  Diego did wise guy work for the individual families and used to date Romano’s daughter Bianca… that's about all I know. Not sure why he was there or why he is dead.

  So he knows the Romano family pretty well. What happened between him and the daughter? I mean she's married to this other guy Sal.

  Ah, Chickie, I think Big Daddy had something to say about that, I'm sure Diego wasn’t his first choice. She was talked into marrying Sal if you ask me.

  Did you hear about the coffin?

  *SMH* Yeah, sloppy!

  What do you mean?

  Well, if they really wanted to get rid of the body, why put it in a place where everyone is going to be? Why not just dump it in the woods? No one was looking for him.

  Good point.

  Thanks, I like it when you give me a compliment.

  I reread the text. So Bianca knew the dead guy, huh? That explains her reaction when she saw the body at the memorial service. And why Mr. Romano shuffled her and her mother out of the room so quickly. I wonder if Nikki knows where she does her nails? I’d love to talk to her.

  They say Bianca went ballistic when she caught him cheating on her. Maybe she still holding a grudge? Who knows!

  Okay, a player to women. But, was he loyal to the family where he worked?

  I think he was, but that doesn't mean that Romano Sr believes so. Somebody turned the big guy into a corpse.

  Wow! You're just full of information today. Shame I'm not writing for anyone right now.

  *Silence*

  I heard he took your notes, how much did he learn?

  My source was worried that Tony had the materials he had passed on to me. I couldn't blame him. But he didn't. Tony had only tapped into the notes I had on my computer.

  Nothing that would implicate you, if I even had enough to implicate you. Are you ever going to let me know who you are?

  Probably not, Chickie. Keep it real. Let me know if you want me to take care of Tony’s car.

  And he signed off.

  I thought about what he said, and how it fits with what we already knew which wasn’t much. Diego was working for the Romano family before Mr. Romano had a falling out with those that run the Mafia in Boston. Then, the whole family is sent here, but not Diego. Not until very recently.

  Could Mr. Romano be responsible for his death? Bianca looked too surprised to have done the deed, but then again she is a Romano. In the past couple of years, I have heard things that would make anyone believe anyone could do anything. Maybe she was just surprised to see the body at that moment, thinking it had gotten taken care of earlier.

  And who could have put the body there? I guess anyone who was at the house when the kitchen blew up, assuming that is when it happened. I think I should talk to Mr. Miller about that. Wouldn’t he have to know that it happened or could someone do it without his knowledge?

  After that dream last night I was also wondering why Diego was in town? More importantly, why was his ghost in my grandfather’s old offices? Did it have something to do with my piece for the Boston Gazette that Tony and our editor took from me? I’m not sure I like where this may lead as it is touching a little too close to home for me.

  I looked at my messages and saw there were a few of them left from Tony. I did think he might have an clue or two about what was going on here, but I was not going to call him back. It was too soon for me. I needed the distance, even if it made this mystery harder to crack.

  Did Diego’s murder somehow tie back to the life I was trying to leave behind all those years ago when I thought I was grown up? While I didn’t want to get in the way of any investigation, I think my ex-boyfriend from high school, Sheriff Kyle, may be in over his head, and he doesn’t even know it.

  I really don’t know how he got the job of sheriff when old man Phillips retired. Grammie told me that one day they were looking for a replacement and the next Kyle was back all ready to fill in. She said the town board, in which Gramps was a part of, was happy with his service experience and though he was the right man for the job. I guess up and leaving town your grand-daughter two days before your supposed to get married didn’t figure into his resume.

  Leaving me with my wedding dress unworn to jet off on what was supposed to be our life together isn’t why I thought he couldn’t figure this out, or why I wanted to. Actually, it is an excellent reason to steer clear of the whole thing. But the fact of the matter is, I am tired of the men in my life pretending to do things that they think are best for me when actually it suits their purposes just fine. I am tired of the empty promises. I am in charge of what I do, and I am going to find this murderer. Then, I’m going to find out why Diego was in my carriage house.

  I set a goal and formed a plan to figure out who murdered Diego Esposito. I might not know where this plan was going to get me, but I knew just where to start.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Nikki and I met at Mel's apartment in town. Mel lived by herself in a second-floor studio apartment over the jewelry store. It may be small, but it suited Mel’s purposes of independence from her parents and the ability to burn as much incense as she wished.

  Nikki picked up the pizza fr
om the Italian restaurant the Romano family owned, named simply Romano’s Italian Restaurant. Mel teased her as soon as she got there.

  “So, did Mario make our pizza special?” she asked Nikki, wiggling her eyebrows. “Extra everything?”

  “I don’t talk to Mario, so how would I know?” Nikki said.

  “Well, if how he looks at you is any indication, talking is not what he wants you to do, anyway. Come on, what is the harm in getting to know him? He’s really good looking,” Mel said.

  “That is part of the problem. I’m not interested in getting interested in a good looking man who has every other girl swooning for him and he knows it. I’m too busy for any man right now,” Nikki said.

 

‹ Prev