Diamonds, Pies & Dead Guys

by Jennifer Fischetto

  She chuckles and goes back for mugs and spoons.

  Alice reaches for the cookies, but Izzie tells her to wait. I smile at how intensely Izzie is staring at them too though.

  When the coffee is finally ready and set before us, with a mug of milk for Alice, my parents sit across from me and tell me to start from the beginning.

  I fill them in on today's events, and for a moment everyone is quiet, other than the munching and slurping.

  "So you're saying that someone set you up?" Alice asks.

  That is the conclusion, isn't it?

  "Yes, it has to be. I arrived at Hilary's after she was ki…passed away." Izzie may be okay with Alice being a part of this conversation, but I assume she'd rather I not be too graphic.

  "Then whoever called is lying," Ma says.

  "What if the cop lied and just said that to see what you would say?" Alice asks.

  Ma grins, and Pop holds back a chuckle.

  Izzie rolls her eyes. "Please don't tell me you're going to follow in your uncle's footsteps and become a police officer? I can't spend the rest of my life worrying about your safety."

  Alice giggles, and Ma says, "You'll be doing that no matter what her job is."

  I say, "I don't think Sanchez would do that. He's a good cop. He's honest and wouldn't lie."

  "What about Kevin though?" Izzie asks.

  I've already contemplated this several times this afternoon. I didn't want to believe he did it either, not after the cooler. He and I are far from becoming besties, but I like our truce and didn't want to think for even a second that he was double-crossing me. And now that I know more about the anonymous call, I know it's not him.

  Ma groans. "How dare he after eating dinner here."

  I shake my head. "No, it's not him. Sanchez said that the caller was female."

  My parents exchange surprised looks.

  "Well, that doesn't mean Kevin didn't kill his wife and someone else called," Izzie says.

  All of us gasp at her word choice, except her daughter. Alice drinks her milk and doesn't look as though the topic of murder, especially by someone she shared Sunday dinner with, is going to cause her nightmares tonight.

  Izzie sighs and rubs her belly. "I'm sorry, Alice. I shouldn't be so graphic. Maybe it's best if you aren't listening."

  "No," says the fourteen-year-old. "It doesn't bother me."

  "Well, it should," Ma says.

  "Nonna, you have a murder basement. Aunt Gianna, Uncle Enzo, and Mom are always scaring one another—flying out of closets and grabbing ankles from under beds, and I've been to six funerals in my lifetime."

  Paulie's family does seem to be a sickly bunch.

  "I don't know what to say about that," Ma says and rubs her temple.

  Pop caresses the top of her other hand.

  Izzie sighs at her daughter, but I'm assuming she's thinking she can't do much about Alice's exposure to death either. At least that's what I'm thinking. "Okay, but if this upsets you, talk to me."

  Alice nods.

  Then Izzie looks at me. "Back to what I said. Kevin could still be guilty."

  I shake my head. It doesn't add up. He didn't lock us in the cooler, and it's too much of a coincidence that whoever did that is not also the person who killed Hilary and made the anonymous call. "No, I don't believe that."

  Izzie's brows lift. "Sounds like that cooler incident was very therapeutic."

  I roll my eyes at my sister, not sure if she's suggesting something or not.

  "Who else, then?" Pop asks.

  Three women come to mind. Brenda, Lonnie's wife, and Mindy. My gut tells me Brenda and Lonnie's wife wouldn't do it, but I'm uncertain.

  "I'm not sure," I say to the family.

  But now I'm determined to find out.

  * * *

  The next morning, I dress in shorts and a tank because, who am I kidding, Julian's two clients don't care what I wear, and enter the office just as Ma unlocks the deli door. I tossed and turned a lot the night before. I ended up staying at my parents' for dinner. Enzo came by and then Paulie, and we had a Sunday dinner of sorts with everyone together. I laughed a lot. I think Izzie told Paulie to go out of his way in being funny, so he and Pop told dad jokes all night.

  What do you call cheese that isn't yours?

  Nacho cheese.

  They were so corny that Alice and I choked on our beverages several times. It was a good night, considering the afternoon. Julian wasn't able to make it. The meeting ran long, and then he had to deal with a client. I've no idea what that means, and it's none of my business. We talked several times on the phone. He called every few hours to check up on me. I enjoy being on his mind. I just wish it had been for more positive reasons.

  But as I'd lain down, planning on sleeping, my brain couldn't shut down. Great food, family, and laughter aside, I'd started thinking about the anonymous call and which of the women made it. So when daylight began, I'd showered, grabbed some supplies, and come over to the office.

  Now I stand at the wall just before the bathroom and storage room and stare at the columns I created with black and white polka dot washi tape. At the top of each, I taped blank sheets of paper with the women's names written on them. This would be more appealing and feel like I was in the movies if I had photos of them, but I don't.

  With a block of neon pink sticky notes in hand, I plan to jot down what I know about each woman, but I'm so overwhelmed. I'm a bit stuck.

  The door opens, and I flinch. I'm working in the back of the office, so anyone walking by won't see what I'm up to. I hadn't considered someone stepping inside though.

  It's not just someone but my people.

  Julian steps in first, sees Enzo's crossing the street with a tray of coffees in hand, and holds the door open for my brother.

  "What are you two doing here?" I ask with a cheerful smile.

  "I'm sorry I couldn't come by last night," Julian says and kisses the top of my head.

  "And I knew you'd be up to something." Enzo hands each of us a coffee. "On the house from the deli, and Ma said all the free refills we want. She figures you're up to something too. It would be unlike you to let this go now that you're involved, and you were too quiet during dessert last night."

  I chuckle and sip the hot, delicious beverage. I don't know if Ma or Enzo added the cream and sugar to mine, but it's exactly how I like it.

  "Brenda, Wife, and Mindy?" Enzo reads my blank papers.

  "Other than Hilary, Mrs. Porter, Tanya, and myself, these are the only other women I know of who are or may be involved." I frown and grab another sheet of paper and stick it up beside Mindy's. I write Tanya on it and shrug.

  "She's Hilary's brother's fiancée. I don't know what her motive could possibly be, but I may as well include everyone, other than Hilary's mom and me."

  The men nod.

  "Okay, so…" I scribble on my stickies and put them up under each person. "Brenda is Hilary's direct neighbor. She heard arguing that night. She says Hilary and Kevin fought all the time. She heard Hilary with Kevin and then Michael and then a third round of arguments, but she's not sure if it was one of those two men or someone new."

  Julian pulls out the chair at his desk, turns on his computer, and sits down. When he glances up and sees me staring at him, because I'm wondering if he suddenly remembered a client task, he says, "Go on."

  "Next is Wife. I don't know her name. She and her husband, Lonnie, live in the apartment directly below Hilary. She said the same thing about the arguments and not being able to tell if the last person was male or female."

  "And Mindy?" Enzo asks.

  "She lives on the same floor as Hilary, but they don't share any walls. She doesn't know much other than she'd sometimes hear the couple argue in the hallway or on the stairs and that Kevin and Michael are hot."

  Julian groans.

  Enzo softly chuckles. I'm assuming it's at Julian's response.

  And I roll my eyes at the two of them.

  "How do you
know all of this? I thought you weren't getting involved," Julian says while typing.

  Enzo half smiles.

  I shrug. "I didn't. Sorta."

  "You spoke to three neighbors. What exactly does involved mean to you?" Julian asks.

  Enzo laughs loud. "She can't help it. It's in the blood."

  He's not lying.

  Julian hits a few more keys and says, "The wife is LouAnne Phelps."

  Enzo and I stare at him.

  How does he know that?

  Julian points to his screen. "I looked it up."

  I frown and write in her name. "LouAnne and Lonnie?"

  "Her record looks clean, but Lonnie has a drunk and disorderly from last year."

  "How do you know this?" Enzo asks.

  Julian arches a brow. "Do you really want to know?"

  Enzo faces my wall again. "Nope."

  Julian grins. "PIs have databases we can access."

  I can't help but wonder if there are ones he's not supposed to access but does anyway.

  "That may be why Lonnie doesn't want to deal with the police," I say. I don't care how Julian is getting the intel. I'm just grateful he can, and I'm not left to guess at who these people are.

  "They have some cash flow issues. Nothing in savings, a small amount in checking. I gather they live paycheck-to-paycheck," Julian says.

  Enzo pinches the bridge of his nose, and I imagine he's still wondering how Julian is accessing this information. This would be cute if I wasn't trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

  "Does LouAnne work? What does Lonnie do?" I ask.

  "Lonnie has been unemployed since last year. His unemployment insurance ran out three months ago. LouAnne is a bank teller in Oceanside."

  Could their cash flow problems have anything to do with Hilary's death? That sounds like a longshot, but I need to ask.

  "Was anything stolen from the apartment?" I ask Enzo and hope he doesn't tell me he can't discuss an ongoing investigation. Because, really, why be here then?

  "No, according to Kevin, nothing was touched. And Hilary was still wearing her engagement ring and wedding band, and she had on a pair of one-carat each diamond earrings. Half of the station is wondering how they could afford them and Kevin's new car."

  "Was there an insurance policy on her?" Julian asks.

  "Yeah, she was a cop's wife, but it wasn't anything more than usual."

  "Well, Kevin told me that money is one of the things they usually argued about. She was always spending and apparently had a bit of a low-key gambling problem."

  "What does low-key mean?" Julian leans back in his chair.

  "She had a thing for playing the lottery. Like every day she'd buy tickets for her and her mom, but she didn't go to the racetracks or Atlantic City. Kevin said the car was an impulse-slash-get-even buy. Since she was spending so much, he did too. He probably regrets it."

  "He's still driving it, so he must not regret it that much," Enzo says.

  He has a point.

  I glance at Julian. "Okay, how about Brenda?"

  I'm certain he won't find anything more than her love for painting.

  He busily clicks at the keyboard and says, "Brenda Johnson was arrested in her early twenties."

  "No way! She's so sweet. I only added her to the wall because otherwise it looked lonely with just LouAnne and Mindy up there. What did she do?" I ask and suddenly wonder if I was right to trust my gut about any of them.

  "She was arrested during a protest for animal rights."

  I chuckle. "I wonder if that had anything to do with her sensibilities."

  "Her what?" Enzo asks.

  I explain how Brenda can sense things.

  Julian's eyes light up. "You met someone else like you?"

  "Someones." I tell them about Winnie and how she and Brenda are related.

  "Why didn't you mention this?" Julian asks.

  I don't remind him that he hasn't exactly been speaking to me. Instead I shrug because, the truth is, I didn't tell my family either. I don't know why. I guess as long as no one else knows, I can keep my gift on the down low. I mean, do any of them really want to chat about dead people?

  "Anything else on Brenda?" I ask, not even bothering to be nonchalant about changing the subject.

  The men exchange glances, which I pretend I don't see, and Julian looks back to his monitor. "Nothing that seems relevant to murder."

  Whew, that's a relief. I was really betting on her not being involved in this any more than being a nosy neighbor.

  "Mindy, Mindy," Julian says while clicking away.

  Enzo glances at his watch. He has to be at work shortly. I'm surprised he's even here. "I should get going, but keep me in the loop, please."

  "Sure," I say as he kisses my cheek.

  He and Julian shake hands, and Enzo walks out and crosses the street. He must've parked his truck behind the deli.

  "Found her," Julian shouts. "Mindy Finkle works as a cashier at CVS and spends a lot of money on alcohol and at bars. She is a partier."

  No surprise there.

  "She has one, two, three…five drug possession charges, but all were dismissed."

  Wow.

  "How?" I ask.

  "It looks like her rich daddy."

  Oh. Well, money changes things.

  Julian stands up. "I don't see anything else for her, but I can look deeper later. I need to meet with a client. Will you be okay by yourself?"

  I laugh. "I'm fine. Go to work and do worky things."

  He comes over and kisses my cheek. We're still at the "where are we" stage in our relationship. I declared my love, but he hasn't said anything since. Granted, we have been busy.

  After he leaves, I stand there, stare at my wall, and finish my coffee.

  Hilary steps through the front door, and I'm surprised and grateful she didn't pop in and scare me again. "So you were arrested?" she asks with a mischievous grin.

  "No, questioned, and how do you know that? Do ghosts gossip? Is there a ghost grapevine?"

  She smiles, and I'm momentarily taken aback. She was a pretty woman, and death hasn't changed that. Well, except for the back of her head, but this grin is the happiest one I've seen on her in a long time. She stares at my wall.

  "Did one of them kill you?"

  She looks away. "You already know my answer."

  I sigh. Should I trust her? Okay, let's say Kevin killed her. Who made the call, then? Who wants to frame me, and why?

  Maybe it isn't about me. Maybe one of them simply wants Kevin to not be blamed. That would be Mindy. She said he was hot. But she'd have to be crazy-level obsessed with him in order to frame someone else just to keep him free. Especially since they barely know each other. Unless he was having an affair too? No. Mindy acted as if she barely knew him but wanted to.

  I make a mental note to ask Julian to look into Mindy's psychological state, like if she's ever been admitted to a psych ward or has any stalking charges Daddy did away with.

  "Brenda is a good person. A little nosy. I think she listens to us by her wall. Like I wouldn't be surprised if she put her ear to it or used a glass." Hilary chuckles.

  I have to agree with her, but I think Brenda is harmless. Or I at least want to believe that.

  My cells rings. I walk to my desk and pick it up. It's Michael. I'm surprised. I don't expect to hear from him voluntarily. "Hello?"

  Hilary is still chatting about how nosy Brenda is as Michael starts talking.

  "She told me all about the tenants that lived in my apartment before us. It was a woman Brenda's age, and she had several cats. Brenda liked the cats, but their owner would visit her and be covered in cat hair. It would get on Brenda's furniture. So after each visit, Brenda would have to vacuum and wipe down the surfaces. She never got it all up and—"

  "Gianna? I was wondering—"

  I can't hear Michael, so I tell Hilary to shush.

  Hilary scoffs. "Why? Your caller can't hear me."

  Seriously? Is she
forgetting that I have ears?

  I tell Michael to hold on and then pull the phone away from my head and hold it against my stomach. I don't need him listening to me argue with a ghost, especially his late lover, and I don't want to deal with Hilary knowing who's on the phone.

  "No, but I can't hear the caller while you're yammering about cats and hair."

  "Who are you talking to?" asks a male voice behind me.

  I nearly drop my phone and twirl around.

  Kevin is standing in the open doorway.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I just stare at him. Crap, how am I going to get out of this one?

  He steps all the way inside and allows the door to shut.

  Hilary laughs, and the longer she does it, the louder she gets.

  I remember Michael is waiting for me. I lift the phone to my ear. "Hello. Sorry about that. How are you?"

  I wouldn't mind if he wanted to chat about his neighbors and cat hair right about now. Anything to prevent the conversation that Kevin wants to have.

  "I am okay. I was wondering if we can talk?"

  "Sure," I shout, full of enthusiasm. It means I have a legit excuse to get out of here. But I'm a bit nervous too. What does he want? "Where do you want to meet?"

  "How about at that coffee shop over near the library?" he asks.

  "I'm on my way." We hang up, and I barely look Kevin in the eye. "Sorry, I gotta go."

  I grab my purse and keys and march toward the door. Not only do I want to avoid his questions, I don't want him to see my suspect wall.

  Hilary is still laughing, and the sound is starting to grate on my nerves. She knows darn well I can't tell her to be quiet again too.

  "Wait," Kevin says and raises his voice. "I want answers. Who were you talking to?"

  "Myself, who do you think?" I hit the light switch, cover the office in darkness, and use my purse to nudge him back out the door.

  "No, that didn't look like that. You were genuinely having a conversation with someone who wasn't there. Like…"

  No, don't say it.

  I stomp my foot and pull the door shut behind us.

  "Are you going to do the aggressive thing again? Where you yell at me and think you can get what you want if you're scary enough? 'Cause if that means our truce is over, I'd like to know before you yell."