J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 05 - Season for Murder Read online

  I stepped aside and motioned her into the bedroom. She took stock of the cardboard covered window before she turned to me.

  “Did you touch anything?” She stared at me with brown eyes that held no expression. Her bland face and quiet voice were businesslike.

  “I taped cardboard over the window after I pushed down the sash at the bottom of the window with the palm of my hand. Other than that, I touched nothing.”

  “Trooper Richmond said you may have seen the perpetrator. Did you get a good look at the suspect?”

  “No, it was dark. I couldn’t see him.”

  “Then how do you know it was a man?”

  “I just know. He sounded like a man and ran like a man. Tall and lean, too.”

  “That doesn’t mean it was a man, ma’am.”

  “Believe me, it was a man.” I stepped back to allow her to complete the print dusting process. Her technique was good, great actually, but I didn’t say so. I watched her with interest.

  When she finished, Trooper Delaney packed up her kit and headed toward the door saying she’d let Marcus know the results. I thanked her and was glad when she left. I couldn’t imagine what kind of personality she had, since none had showed itself while she worked. Most other troopers were friendly and polite. While she was polite, Trooper Delaney tended to be on the cold side. What sort of favor had Marcus done for her that made her indebted to him?

  A few minutes later, the phone rang. Sounding mysterious, Lola asked me to stop by the deli. Curious to find out why she acted so secretive, I agreed to come by, and hung up. I swung my jacket over my shoulders and grabbed my handbag as I left.

  My car sat alone in front of the garage. Rafe, it seemed, had never returned home. Maybe he’d been quiet enough that I hadn’t heard him and had left before I got up. Somehow, I was certain he hadn’t been home at all. Where had he been? I strolled from the driveway, breathing in fresh, crisp winter air.

  It didn’t take long to walk to the corner and cross the street. Entering the deli, I was assailed by aromas that tempted my taste buds. A cup of hot tea and a fresh baked, gooey coffee bun awaited me on the counter. Millie slid them forward and motioned toward the kitchen with her head.

  “The chef is in there cooking up a storm. Go ahead in.”

  With a smile and a thank you, I nodded, grabbed the goodies, and headed into the back room where all Lola’s delectables were concocted. When I had first met Millie, she was a timid and nervous creature. Spousal abuse will do that to a person. It hadn’t taken Lola and me very long to help her get back to some sort of normal life. Once she’d left her husband, and become independent, Millie had undergone a dramatic change.

  “What’s cookin’ back here?” I asked. I plunked onto the empty stool in the corner beside the gleaming stainless steel table.

  “A lot more than food.” Lola turned from the stove, and wiped her hands on the towel tucked into the waist of her apron strings.

  Curious, I said, “Tell me, please.” The pastry was sweet and the sugary glaze stuck to my fingertips. I licked all five fingers on each hand after I had sucked down the luscious delight. Rinsing my hands under the nearby faucet, I wiped them on paper towels.

  “There’s bothersome news about Rafael,” Lola said. “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t share family stuff, but he’s a far removed relation, so I’ll tell you.” She stood across the table from me. In one hand she held a heavy knife with a ten-inch blade, with the other hand, she bundled red peppers and chopped them in rapid motion. The blade flew through the peppers. Fascinated, I watched her.

  “Well, tell me then,” I ordered as she chopped.

  “It would appear that Rafe isn’t just a photographer. He’s connected with the government, and is here on business.”

  “What kind of business?” A slice of pepper bounced toward me. I pushed it back toward Lola.

  She laid the knife down, scooped the peppers, rinsed them under the faucet, and tossed them into the fry pan. While they sizzled in the olive oil, Lola turned back to me.

  “He’s with those firearm people. You know which ones I mean.”

  “Would that be the ATF?” I asked as though I didn’t already know, and that the FBI occasionally works with them.

  “Yeah, them.” She blew a puff of air out through her Julia Roberts lips and turned to stir the peppers. After she lowered the heat under the pan, Lola returned to the conversation.

  “We, you and I, have broken the law in front of a federal agent. Good God, what the hell am I going to do if I get arrested? My father will have a shit fit and my brother … well, I can’t even imagine what his response would be.” The knife, grasped tightly in her hand, swirled in the air and the rich auburn hair that was secured at her nape, bounced as she spoke.

  “He was in the shower with us. He would already have arrested us if he was going to do it at all. Besides, I gave the money to Marcus, so we can’t be caught with it.” I drank the tea and thought for a minute. “Marcus told me if I go back into the apartment again, he’ll arrest me. I promised I wouldn’t. We got what we were looking for, anyway, as far as I can tell.”

  “Shit, he would really arrest you? You’re kidding, right?” Lola gasped, her eyes widening.

  “No, he wasn’t joking.” I smirked at the memory, but found no humor in it today. “Someone broke into my apartment last night before I got home. They didn’t find what they wanted. I think I got there too soon. It was a man, but he got away before I could get a good look at him.”

  “This is scary, Vin. What if he’d been waiting to attack you? Did you call the cops?”

  “He wasn’t there for me, he wanted the journal. I’m sure of it.”

  “Damn, damn, damn,” Lola spat the words out while I simply stared at the little spitfire.

  “You’re worked up about this whole thing, aren’t you?”

  “Well, yes. If I’d known that my distant, million times removed, cousin was a fed, I’d never have let him move into Aaron’s digs, or become involved in this affair your mother has become involved in. I think he’s investigating a mob connection at the senior center.”

  “How did you know that, and how did you find out he was a fed?”

  “I stopped by my mother’s house this morning before I came here. She and my father were yelling at each other about Rafael when I got there. I stayed as close to the door as I could without them becoming suspicious before I went inside. When they finished talking, I strode into the house. It must be some big secret, ’cause my mother clammed up tight when she saw me …”

  “By the way, how did you arrive at the investigation conclusion?” I asked.

  With a sigh, Lola said, “Rafe casually asked me a lot of questions about your mother, you, and the senior center while he was doing the photo shoot for my book. It didn’t occur to me that his interest was anything more than simple conversation.” Lola glanced up at me with a distressed expression. “I’m sorry, Vinnie. I should have kept my mouth shut, but it seemed so innocent.”

  “Don’t worry about this, Lola. You couldn’t have known. These professionals take classes on how to get the most information from you without you realizing it. It’s not your fault.” I smiled to ease the situation.

  The pan of peppers started to smoke. I motioned to it. A gray cloud billowed and the smoke alarm went off. In a flash, the pan caught fire and flames shot upward. Lola grabbed a box of baking soda and doused the pan and flames in one fluid motion. I guessed she’d done this before. Millie rushed into the kitchen, checked things out, and ran back toward the customers.

  With a mitt-covered hand on the pan’s handle, Lola dumped it into the empty sink while muttering a few well-chosen four letter words. I watched the scene and understood how upset she’d become over the inadvertent information sharing. I rose from the seat, walked over to her, and threw an arm around her shoulder.

  “Lola, what you need is a day off. Come on, let’s go to the mall.” I squeezed her shoulder, turned on the overhead exhaust fan to rid t
he kitchen of smoke, and waved a cloth past the smoke detector to stop the noise. I could hear Millie reassuring the customers that there was no emergency, just a burnt pepper or two.

  “Bill Princely will be in soon to take over the cooking, so I guess I can go with you.” Lola passed a hand across her forehead, tears rolled down her cheeks. She blotted them with the hem of her apron.

  The front door to the deli swung open. Firefighters rushed in, dressed in full turnout gear. Three men trotted into the kitchen gawking at the burnt mess in the sink. Lola assured them that the fire was out, stating it had only been minor.

  These guys love to take an ax to anything they can, no matter what it is. They say it’s for safety’s sake, but I think it’s overkill. Lola wasn’t about to let them hack up, or soak down, her kitchen with foam or whatever else they had handy. Instead of kicking their butts out the door, she smiled the Julia smile, melted their hearts, and offered them free sandwiches and drinks.

  I grinned when they succumbed to her smile and nodded in agreement over the idea of a free lunch. Millie took over and served their food in no time at all. Lola and I cleared the sink and washed down the stove before we headed to the mall. Thank God there were no classes at the university today.

  We hung out until Bill came in to take over the kitchen. With a few instructions to him, Lola hauled her coat on. We walked to my house and drove off in my car.

  Chapter 18

  Half-an-hour later, we came to a halt in the one open spot left in the lot outside the shopping mall. The nearer the holiday drew, the worse parking and traffic issues became. It’s a wonderful time of year with all the hustle and bustle of crowds, decorations, and cheer. Well, maybe not always good cheer.

  We wandered through the mall with expectations of great sales and mega savings. Lola caught sight of an emerald green velvet outfit in a shop window. Her wide grin and excited eyes meant but one thing. She had to have it. I laughed as we headed into the shop.

  A sales woman sized Lola up with every step as she approached us. A real pro, she introduced herself and asked Lola what she could do to assist her. It had been apparent that Lola was the customer. Her excitement bubbled over and her rich, dark brown eyes gleamed. The sales woman identified herself to us as Rhoda Tunda. She told Lola the size she needed was available. Lola turned to me and grinned. She hadn’t mentioned her size, but Rhoda was right on the money when she returned with the outfit. I waited while Lola scooted into the fitting room with Rhoda Tunda chatting away close behind her.

  Dresses, coats, pantsuits, and accessories were displayed with flare around the store. No crowded racks or loaded shelves, just select, high-end items placed here and there. The prices were drop-dead scary, and I avoided anything in my size. This place was way too rich for my wallet. I could imagine how loud my credit card would scream at the cost and rate of interest I’d have to pay just for a pair of earrings. Hands in my jeans pockets, I peered at intriguing jewelry and handbags.

  After a few minutes, Lola strolled from the dressing room in the perfectly fitting outfit. The rich emerald green set off her deep auburn locks and the color of her skin. I watched as she paraded in front of the mirror and then nodded her acceptance to Rhoda. Mentally, I heard cha-ching, cha-ching, and knew the pants and corner angled top cost a small fortune. It was a small price to pay if it made Lola happy. Thus far, her day hadn’t been a winner.

  The cash register zipped softly as it read the numbers on Lola’s credit card. The outfit was hung in a long plastic suit bag and handed over after Lola signed on the line. The suit folded over her arm, we left the shop.

  “You do realize that you’ve made Rhoda Tunda’s commission for the week, don’t you?”

  “Undoubtedly, but I don’t care. It felt good to be extravagant.” Lola grinned up at me. “Didn’t find anything you liked?”

  “The problem was I liked it all. No, no, I couldn’t bring myself to spring for an outfit in that store, uh, uh, not me.” I chuckled as we headed toward the sales rack in the next shop down. I found two sweaters and a pair of earrings that came to less than one pair of earrings in the other shop. The purchases were bagged while I rambled on about my budget being blown to hell. Lola and I left the store in search of a place to eat.

  With a friend who’s a chef, it isn’t easy to agree on a decent fast food restaurant. We ended up in the giant-sized food court where everything from Chinese food to burgers and fries was offered. I went in one direction and Lola headed in the other looking for something delicious, filling, and unusual. Why order what we could make at home? Whenever possible, Lola and I tried eating something new. Today was not that day, but it was a food court, not an epicurean’s delight.

  We’d been at the mall for about two hours. In that time, my cell phone hadn’t jingled once. My mother wasn’t in the track down mode, nor had the police department called to ask if I’d identify any new dead bodies they’d acquired. We all need to be grateful for the little things in life.

  “Do you have to be somewhere? Am I holding you up?” Lola asked with concern-filled eyes.

  “No, I was just thinking how quiet my cell phone has been. It’s kind of nice, actually.” I smirked.

  “Oh, okay.” She ate the sorbet she’d ordered and then asked, “What have you gotten your mother for Christmas?”

  “I did a pastel painting for her. The framer will have it ready next weekend. I did think a bottle of her favorite perfume might be a good idea, too. What do you think?”

  “Sounds perfect. Why don’t you see if Macy’s has her scent available?”

  “Sure,” I said with a nod.

  Macy’s was at the other end of the mall. After I’d eaten my fill of Chinese food, I felt like I needed to hike the length of the building and then run a few miles. We walked with purpose through the huge building until Lola grabbed my arm and hauled me into the nearest store.

  I tripped on the base of a tall ad stand, tipping it over, while I tried to catch my balance. On its way to the floor, the corner of the stand hooked a rack loaded with scarves. Brilliant colored scarves fluttered to my feet, and tangled around my ankles. I tried to step forward, but the scarves tightened and tripped me. In a second, a counter of sweaters had tumbled forth. My arms flailed while I crashed to the floor.

  Unable to get untangled, I sat upright, wrestled with the gauzy material clustered around my feet, and tossed sweaters aside. Lola giggled helplessly as she tried to help me out. Sales personnel gathered to watch while I pulled the strips of material loose.

  “You do know you have to pay for those, ma’am?” One hand on his hip and the other bent at the wrist, the salesman motioned to all that littered the floor.

  “Uh, I don’t think so,” I stammered.

  Unable to contain her humor, Lola knelt back on her knees and gave in to the laughter that bubbled over. I found nothing funny about the incident, though I could understand her sense of humor. I fumbled with the last scarf and handed it to her with a grimace.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “What the hell is this all about, Lola?” I whispered. “Why are we in this store? We were headed to Macy’s, not to this shop.”

  She handed the remaining bunch of scarves to the salesperson. A flash of the Julia smile caught my eye, but it faded. It hadn’t worked on the clerk. I sat back astounded. This had to be a first. The Julia smile always worked. It never failed to get us out of tight spots, until today.

  With pink spots in her cheeks, Lola turned to me. “I thought I recognized Rafael a ways down the mall. I didn’t want him to see us,” she murmured. “I can’t face him right now.”

  On my feet once more, I stared around at the crowd that had formed to gawk at my not-so-graceful landing. I stared at each person in turn with my Italian attitude in place, until they shrugged and wandered back to their usual spots. All but one salesperson left. The geek with the attitude stood posturing and pointing to the sweaters, scarves, and signs that littered the floor.

  “And who wi
ll clean this mess?” With pursed lips, he tried to peer down his elongated, pointed nose at me. I stood a good three inches above him, so the effect he wanted was lost.

  “That would be your job,” I said and dusted off my jeans. There was no dust, just embarrassment on my part for having been the klutz of the day.

  “That is not acceptable,” he remarked in a snooty tone of voice. “If you don’t clear this debris from the floor, I’ll call security.”

  “Be my guest.” I leaned toward him and then strode from the store with Lola in tow.

  The salesman blustered, then ran out of the store and yelled, “Stop, thief, stop.”

  I wheeled around and headed back toward the man. He backed into the store as I closed in on him, his hands fluttering upward in a protective motion. Lola clutched my arm as several security guards came running. My free hand reached toward the scrawny neck of my persecutor just as the first two-point-five officer entered the store. One of them, with his baton at the ready, identified himself as mall security. When I turned toward him, he dropped the baton and stared.

  “Miss Esposito, what are you doing here?” Officer Peter DeGriek stared at me, his mouth agape.

  “I’m not a thief and this man is harassing me.” I leaned toward Peter and whispered, “Did I tell you that your final grade is a B+?”

  A wide smile covered his pudgy face at the thought of a passing mark he had neither worked for, nor deserved. I had to get out of this situation any way possible. With a nod and some preening, Peter swelled like a puffer fish and did his best imitation of a cop.

  “I’m sure this is only a misunderstanding. I know Miss Esposito personally and can vouch for her honesty.” Other security personnel had arrived. Peter began to brag about the grade he’d acquired this semester.

  How stupid could a person get? Final exams hadn’t even been administered yet. Duh, ya know?

  Within minutes, the entire incident was diffused as the store clerk became enamored with one of the male security guards. I stared for a second before I eased out of the shop when he engaged the officer in conversation. He strutted back and forth to display his charms. Hey, ‘each to his own’ is my motto. If this salesman liked his own gender, that was fine with me.