Crumbled to Pieces

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Crumbled to Pieces Page 12

by Catherine Bruns


  "Charming," Josie said affably.

  Violet placed her glass down on the table. "Again with the judgment? You must lead a perfect life, sugar. I thought I was in love with him once but got over that quick. He was like my mother—too self-absorbed and possessive."

  Sounds like a great guy.

  "He was only concerned with his own needs," Violet went on. "Too damn clingy for my taste, but he did buy me nice presents. Jewelry, dresses, furs, you name it. He was a powerful man, and that's what first attracted me to him. You might think otherwise, but I'm very selective about the men I, uh…fraternize with. They're all successful businessmen like him, and pay me very well, I might add. No strings attached. In less than a year, I've already bought myself a house and a sweet-looking car. What more do I really need? I'm happy and away from my loony family."

  Call me crazy, but there was a haunted look in Violet's eyes that cried out to me and said otherwise. I also suspected she was hiding something. Maybe it had to do with her former lover or her dysfunctional family, but whatever the reason, I pitied her.

  "Now, if you're all done with this inquisition—or intervention, whatever you want to call it—I need to sleep." She shot Josie a surly look. "I work long hours and need my rest. I can't have myself looking haggard tonight. My clients don't like that." She rose from the chair and draped Gus over her shoulder like he was an expensive fur.

  I held up a hand. "One more thing. Do you have any idea of who might have wanted to kill your mother?"

  Violet stared at me, puzzled. "What do you mean? She was the victim of a hit-and-run."

  So she hadn't heard. I didn't see the harm in telling her since Anna and Enzo already knew the truth and I was surprised they hadn't shared it with her. "It appears that your mother was deliberately run down. Allegra's death has been ruled a homicide."

  Her face turned as white as powdered sugar. "Are you serious? Why am I just hearing about this now—and from you, of all people?"

  "Nicoletta tried to call you," Josie said, "and so did your family. It seems you never answer your phone."

  Violet shrugged. "I have no use for any of my relatives. I never got along well with my brother and sister. They've always been jealous of me. Besides, my life is here now." She hesitated for a moment. "Do the police have any idea who did this? Maybe they should take a good hard look at Enzo and Anna."

  Wow. Talk about your sibling love. "We heard you were in New York that day—the same day your mother was killed."

  Violet swallowed hard and looked away. "Yeah, that's right. I was there to see someone—and not a member of my family. It was my way of saying good-bye to the past, forever."

  "Did you happen to see your mother when you visited this"—I took a wild stab in the dark—"man?"

  She narrowed her eyes at me. "Yes, it was a man and extremely personal. I didn't even tell my family I was in town. I was in New York for less than forty-eight hours. How do you know, anyhow?" Then recognition dawned on her face. "Oh. The police must have checked the airline records."

  I didn't respond to her comment. "If you know something about her death, you'd be doing us a favor by coming clean. Mrs. Gavelli—err, Nicoletta is very upset about what happened to your mother, and it's affecting my grandmother as well. We only want to help."

  "Yeah, like I believe that one. Look, I don't know who killed my mother, but I will tell you this. She had plenty of people who hated her guts, and it was her own damn fault because of the way she treated them." A shadow passed over Violet's face. "Now that I think about it, she did say something weird the last time I talked to her. It was as if she knew that her life might be in danger."

  Now we were getting somewhere. "What exactly did she tell you?"

  She drew her eyebrows together, and her delicate mouth pursed into a frown. "Something about a locket of hers and that she did it for me. She really wasn't making much sense." Violet gave a low laugh. "To tell you the truth, I wondered if she might have been drinking. She loved a snort every now and then. What really shocked me is when Mother said that she loved me. This was a first. My mother had never said those words to me before."

  Josie and I exchanged a knowing glance. Allegra must have been referring to the necklace that had been left to Grandma Rosa. "This locket. Have you ever seen it before?"

  She nodded. "If it's the one I remember, it was gold with a skull and crossbones. My father gave it to her years ago. Mother wasn't the type of person you gave a diamond to. She liked that creepy kind of stuff instead. There was a compartment inside to put things. You know, where you're supposed to carry around pictures of your child? Except she always carried a picture of my father instead."

  "Was it valuable?" Josie asked.

  Violet shrugged. "I don't think so. They didn't have any money back then. Mother treasured it, though, all the same." She snapped her fingers suddenly. "That's it. She said something about it holding the key to my fortune."

  "What do you think she meant by that?" I asked.

  She laughed. "Who knows. Leave it to Mother to say something weird like that. Maybe it had to do with her love of fortune cookies. On the rare occasions we got Chinese food when I was a kid, she'd always steal everyone's cookies."

  "Guess not much has changed since then," Josie muttered.

  I shot her a warning look. "Well, thanks for your time. We know you have things to do, so—"

  The smile disappeared from Violet's face. "You think I'm just some cheap tramp, don't you?"

  "I'm not here to judge you," I said calmly. "I only want to find out what happened to your mother."

  It was as if she hadn't heard me. "Look, I entertain men for the evening. Sometimes they hire me if they need a date for a high society event or for a night on the town. Hey, if they only want to spend a few hours talking, that's okay by me too. As long as I get paid."

  Josie snorted back a laugh. "Okay, sure. Hey Violet, it's none of our business what—"

  "You're damn right it's none of your business," she snarled. "I've got everything I ever wanted. A nice car, house, and money. In a couple of years, I might retire and open my own art gallery."

  "You like to paint?" I asked.

  Her face brightened at my words. "Yes, it's so relaxing. I don't plan to work as an escort for the rest of my life, you know."

  I examined her face closely. "Well, as long as you're happy, that's all that counts."

  "Of course I'm happy." Violet shot me a look of defiance. "I have everything I could possibly ever want right at my fingertips."

  When we didn't respond, I swore that Violet's lower lip trembled for the briefest of seconds. She reached down to stroke Gus's head. "Everything," she repeated.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  "Okay." Josie let her slim legs dangle elegantly in the turquoise blue water as we perched on the side of the hotel pool. "It's becoming obvious that this locket—or shall I say, this missing locket—might help us to find out who killed Allegra. How this is possible, I have no clue. Do you have any idea what the old lady might have done with it and why she would leave it to your grandmother of all people?"

  "None whatsoever." It was late afternoon, and we were meeting my parents at the grill-type restaurant inside the New York-New York for an early dinner. Josie wanted to walk back to the Tropicana afterward and try out her beloved penny machines one last time before we called it a night. My after-dinner plans included some television and turning in early. Yes, I was a boring date.

  Vegas was okay, I decided, but not exactly my slice of cheesecake. Still, it might be a nice place for my husband and me to visit when it wasn't so hot that I resembled one of my cookies during the baking process.

  The temperature was in the high nineties, a bit cool for this time of year in Nevada. Still, I was broiling like a fish as I wiped sweat off my brow. "It feels like some type of riddle to me. Like Allegra wanted my grandmother to be the one to figure it out."

  Josie's toes, painted a hot pink, kicked water across the pool. She looked fantas
tic in a new white bikini she'd bought at one of the gift shops yesterday. "Allegra only met your grandmother a few months ago, right?"

  I slid my body into the deliciously cool water until it came up to my shoulders. "Yes, but you know that doesn't mean anything. Everyone is always taken with her. She has a certain pull—an irresistible charm."

  "Plus she's never judgmental, gives sound advice, and makes the world's best cheesecake, along with every other type of food."

  No arguments there. "Okay, there's that too."

  "Do you think Violet's wrong and the locket's some type of antique?" Josie asked. "So if Allegra wanted Violet to stop living such a shameful life, why not leave it to her in the first place?"

  "The locket must be worth something, then." A light switch flicked on in my brain. "Maybe that's what the killer or killers are looking for and why they trashed my apartment and Mrs. Gavelli's house."

  Josie sipped her Long Island Iced Tea thoughtfully. "Unless there's something inside the locket."

  This was like being in the middle of a maze and unable to figure a way out. A locket left to my grandmother by someone she barely knew might hold an important item, but we had to find it first. "Violet could be lying. She wouldn't tell us why she was in New York the same day Allegra died. It's too much of a coincidence as far as I'm concerned."

  Josie crunched on a piece of ice. "But why kill Allegra over the locket if you can't find it? What good would that do?"

  "Hi, girls!" We turned around to see my mother approaching. She was wearing a fire engine red bikini with matching stiletto sandals. She gestured toward the door of the restaurant. "Go on inside. Daddy's hungry."

  Josie and I got out of the water and pulled our cover-ups on over our bikinis. It wasn't a fancy restaurant by any stretch—only your average burger and sandwich joint—so what we had on was suitable. My father had originally suggested we eat poolside, but I'd begged for air conditioning. The heat, like everything else on this planet, never seemed to bother him or my mother.

  Dad rose from a table by the window and waved to us, menu in hand. I gave a little involuntary shudder when I saw today's outfit. It consisted of a white tank top and a knee-length pair of gray swim trunks that had "Father Death" inscribed on the lower left leg of the material. I sighed. "He's wearing his name brand swim trunks again."

  "Good God," Josie muttered. "Did he have those made to impress the literary agent?"

  I shook my head. "No, a woman who designs swimwear sent them to him for free. All she wanted in return was a shout-out on his blog."

  "This is nuts," Josie declared as we approached him. My mother was still outside, chatting with the waiter behind the bar as he fixed her a piña colada. She seemed oblivious to the red-blooded males around the pool who were all gawking at her. I breathed a sigh of relief when she put her cover-up on. It's a bit hard to take when your mother looks better in a bikini than you do.

  My father patted the chair next to him. "Come here, baby girl. Let me get a good look at you." He draped an arm around my shoulders and planted a kiss on the top of my head. "See, marriage agrees with you. You were too skinny before, but you've rounded out nicely now."

  "Gee, thanks, Dad."

  My mother sat down across from us next to Josie. She giggled and gave me a sly wink. "I had a dream last night and bet you can't guess what it was about."

  "Oh, I don't know—you were working as a waitress in a casino?"

  Her laugh sounded like the tinkling bells on my bakery shop door. "No, silly." She pinned me with her large dark eyes. "I dreamed that someone I loved was pregnant."

  Josie kicked me under the table.

  My heart stuttered in my chest. Cripes. My parents were about to ruin this for me. If I told them I thought I was expecting, my mother would be on the phone sobbing to my husband within seconds. "Well, Mom, when I am, you'll be one of the first to know."

  She sighed. "Oh, pooh. You take all the fun out of it." She glanced up as the waiter approached. "You girls order whatever you want. It's on us."

  After the waiter had taken our order and left, my mother propped her elbows on the table. "So you girls never did tell us what you're doing here. Were you following us?"

  "Nicoletta wanted to come here and talk to Allegra's daughter, Violet," Josie explained. "She thought Violet might know something about her mother being murdered."

  "That poor woman." Mom clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "What a horrible way to go."

  My father snorted as he slurped the rest of his chocolate shake. "Ah, she had it coming. That woman made Satan look tame."

  "Domenic!" my mother cried. "That's no way to speak about the dead."

  "Baloney." He dipped a tortilla chip into salsa. "No one liked her. I even heard the neighbors threatening her last week."

  "The Gardners?" Josie asked with interest.

  "Sure," he said. "They're my homies. We hang together all the time."

  Oh, brother. It appeared my mother wasn't the only one who thought she was forever a teenager. "What did they say about her?"

  He crunched on the chip. "Well, they didn't like Allegra, that was for sure. She called the cops on them one night. She said they were smoking pot while their baby was sleeping upstairs. The old broad even called them unfit parents."

  Josie's blue eyes grew round. "Were they really smoking pot?"

  My father waved his hand dismissively. "Carl's got a legit reason. He has glaucoma and only uses it for medicinal purposes."

  "But it's not legal to smoke marijuana in New York yet," I protested.

  He grimaced. "Yeah, well, thanks to her meddling, Carl got arrested and charged with possession. Man, was he ticked off at the old broad. I heard Rachel went over to Nicoletta's house and had words with Allegra too."

  "That must have gone over well," I murmured.

  My father stuffed another chip into his mouth. "You're not kidding. Carl told her if she ever went near his house again he was going to flatten her body with his car."

  I winced. What an unfortunate choice of words to use. "They're not violent people, right?" I was looking for some type of reassurance.

  Dad shrugged. "I don't think so, but who really knows for sure? People are nuts these days. Everyone gets offended by everything. Sure, the Gardners are a nice couple. They just didn't happen to be fond of Allegra."

  "Huh." Josie smirked. "Who was?"

  My mother looked out the window. "Where's Ma? Aren't she and Nicoletta joining us?"

  I shook my head. "Mrs. Gavelli still isn't feeling well, and Grandma didn't want to leave her. I offered to bring them back something to eat, but she said they'd order room service if they got hungry."

  "Speaking of a devil," my father grunted. "That woman's been a thorn in my side since she moved into our neighborhood 30 years ago."

  My mother put her hand on his. "Oh, she's all right, darling. It's that Allegra who managed to rub everyone the wrong way. Remember the man who was parked in front of Nicoletta's house last week? He was screaming terrible things at Allegra. It looked like what's his name—that assemblyman. No, wait, I think he's a senator."

  Josie and I exchanged a startled glance. "Do you mean Martin Ambrose?" I asked.

  My mother spooned some whipped cream from her drink into her mouth. "That's the one. He's a nice-looking man but kind of cocky if you ask me. Of course, he pales in comparison to your father."

  "Doesn't everybody?" My father puffed out his chest and blew her an air kiss. Then he promptly dropped a large spot of salsa on his tank top.

  I struggled not to roll my eyes and instead focused on what my mother said. Why would Martin Ambrose have visited Allegra? Something told me it wasn't a social call. "Was Lena with him?"

  "Who?" my mother asked. "Oh, you mean his wife—Allegra's niece, right? I don't know her. But in answer to your question, no. He was alone."

  The more I discovered about Allegra, the more confused I became. Maybe I would try to give Lena a call later. My grandmother ha
d her cell phone number. Would she be willing to shed some light on her husband's relationship with Allegra?

  The waiter brought my father another milkshake, and he clinked it against our glasses. "So I propose a toast. To your father, the most creative genius in the world."

  "What exactly are we toasting?" Josie asked.

  Dad sucked half of the drink through his straw before he responded. "We are celebrating my newest venture into the publishing world."

  Our dinners arrived at that moment. After the waiter had departed, I asked the 64-million-dollar question. "Did you sign with Mr. Steadman?"

  My father's jaw hardened. "Nah, he was a bust. He read the first chapter last night when we went up to his room for drinks. It turns out he was more interested in your mother than my book."

  My mother drained her glass and nodded emphatically. "The man was a pig. He only had one thing on his mind, and it wasn't your father's book. So we told him what he could do with his unliterary-like intentions. I am not a slab of meat."

  Dad grinned as he dug into his double bacon cheeseburger. "That's true, hot stuff. You're much healthier for me than this burger."

  Ew. "Um, can we talk about something else?" I asked.

  Mom tossed her head. "He did give us a few useful tips about self-publishing, so I'm enrolling in a local class next week. It explains how to list your book on Amazon and all those other cute ebook sites. We're going to form our own publishing company, and guess what we're going to call it?"

  The possibilities were endless with them. "No idea."

  "Bellissimo Books. Isn't that clever?" Mom beamed at my father. "Daddy thought of it."

  I considered this for a moment. To my surprise, it wasn't half bad. "I like it."

  "Just wait and see, baby girl," my father said. "In less than a year, you'll be hosting my first book signing at your bakery. Mark my words."

  Josie almost choked on her sandwich.

 

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