An ominous silence followed, and I put a hand to my mouth to muffle my breathing as I waited for the man’s response.
“You low-life tramp,” he muttered. “All you care about is how much money a man has. I thought I meant something to you.”
“Please,” Daphne said. “The entire town knows that you’re nothing but a joke.”
“Careful, babe,” he warned. “Karma is going to catch up with you. And when it does, I hope I’m around to see it.”
I adjusted the tray in my hands and took a step forward. Something crunched loudly under my foot. I winced. A soda can. Of all the worst luck.
“Who’s out there?” Daphne called.
Crap. I was busted. I straightened up and emerged from behind the dumpster, trying to act casual. “Oh, hi, Daphne. I had to run back to the house and get more cannoli—” My voice trailed off when I noticed whom she’d been talking to. It was none other than Carlita’s son, Lorenzo.
Lorenzo Garcia was four years younger than me. His parents were a mixture of Italian and Spanish background, and he’d clearly gotten the best of both worlds. Lorenzo was movie-star handsome with tousled black hair, expressive dark eyes, and skin the color of cognac. Women between the ages of twenty and ninety stopped to look at him on the street. He was the youngest of Carlita’s six children, the most attractive, and the most problematic.
Carlita had confided to me a couple of months ago that Lorenzo had no desire to work for a living, something she herself didn’t understand. Despite his lazy, carefree attitude, he was a nice guy and seemed respectful of his elders. The thought of him being used by Daphne sickened me. If Carlita found out, she would go crazy.
The shock on Lorenzo’s face must have mirrored my own. “Hello, Tessa.” He stared from me to Daphne, as if unsure what to do next.
“You again,” Daphne drawled. “Tessa, you were always such a nosy little thing in high school. Still trying to snoop around and get dirt on people?”
“I wasn’t snooping,” I lied. “I planned to slip in the back door so I wouldn’t disturb the signing, and no one would see me bringing the cannoli. Speaking of which, aren’t you supposed to be helping Preston?”
Even in the semidarkness, I noticed Lorenzo stiffen at the mention of Preston’s name.
“It’s Mr. Rigotta to you,” Daphne sneered, “and I’m on a break.” She turned to go back inside, but Lorenzo grabbed her roughly by the arm.
“Let go of me!” she snapped and shook him off. “Crawl back under your pathetic rock. I have nothing else to say to you.”
She slammed the door, and Lorenzo and I were left alone in the night, an uncomfortable silence stretching between us. Lorenzo stuck his hands inside the pockets of his worn jean jacket and refused to look at me. “Guess I’d better shove off. See ya, Tessa.”
His expression was forlorn, and it bothered me to see him so upset, especially over a woman who wasn’t worth his affections. Daphne had obviously stomped all over his heart.
“Hey, Lorenzo,” I called. “Why don’t you hold up for a minute? I’ve got to run inside with the cannoli, but maybe we could have a talk afterward?”
He gave me a sad smile. “They were good, by the way. I had one while I was waiting for Daphne. They’re even better than my mom’s. Don’t tell her I said that, though.”
I laughed, hoping to lighten the mood. “Thanks.”
Lorenzo shifted his weight nervously from one foot to another. “Speaking of which, I didn’t see you here tonight, Tessa.”
A chill crept up my spine. “What are you talking about?”
His untrusting eyes searched mine. “This is between us, okay? I didn’t see you, and you didn’t see me. Trust me. It’s better that way.”
Before I could say anything further, he disappeared into the darkness.
Three
Daphne had conveniently locked the back door when she’d gone inside the bookstore. I rapped on it with my free hand, thinking the effort was futile, but it was opened in seconds by Gabby. She stared at me with a puzzled expression. “Where were you?”
I held up the tray. “Sorry, I ran back home for the rest of the cannoli because we were out. How’s it going?”
Gabby moved out of the way to let me enter, then glanced out into the alley and scanned both sides. Satisfied, she shut the door and locked it. “We ran out of biscotti, too, so I brought the plate back.” She grabbed a napkin and began to move the pastries from my steel tray to the empty china dish. “Except for our unpleasant blast from the past, the evening was a huge success.”
“That’s fantastic! I’m so happy for you. Hey, is it normal for authors to bring their family to signings with them?”
“Some do,” Gabby replied. “Personally, I think Sylvia uses it to her advantage to get more attention for her show. Willow is in charge of Preston’s website, joined at the hip to her parents, and basically has no life from what I’ve heard. She’s at her father’s beck and call constantly.”
“How old is Willow?” I asked. “She looks like she’s still in high school.”
“Her father mentioned that she’ll be twenty-one this month.” Gabby glanced around. “Where the heck did I leave my keys? Oh, never mind. They’ll turn up eventually. Preston’s still chatting with a couple of fans, but I sold the last of his books five minutes ago.” She exhaled a sigh of relief. “This may get me out of the red for a little while, Tess.”
I placed the tray down on the table and hugged her. “You worked hard on this event and I’m so proud of you.” But my mind was still in the alley, recalling Daphne and Lorenzo’s ugly exchange. Had he threatened her? It sure sounded that way.
Gabby was watching me intently. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” I didn’t want to bring up Daphne’s name again. Let Gabby enjoy her success for a little while. It could wait until tomorrow.
Her face glowed. “Lou’s here—he’s pulling a late shift tonight. I was just grabbing him a can of soda. He’s the one that finished up the last of the biscotti.”
“Is your brother with him?”
“No, he’s not working tonight. The twins had a concert at school. Gino called me earlier and said he was sorry that he and Lucy couldn’t make it to the signing, but I honestly didn’t expect them. Gino barely has time to eat these days, let alone read a book.”
As the sole police detective in Harvest Park, Gino was dedicated to his job, and the well-being of the town and his family. Although he drove Gabby nuts with his overprotective ways, she knew she was lucky to have him. I had no siblings, but Gino always looked out for me as well.
Gabby picked up a Snoopy mug with a picture of a red wagon filled with books. I sniffed the air. Her drink didn’t smell like coffee. “Is that wine? Aren’t you driving?”
Gabby grinned. “Oh, chill. Only one mug to celebrate. Want to join me?”
“Thanks, but I’m good.”
She yawned. “Man, I’m drained. My adrenaline has been pumping all week for tonight, and now I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.” She glanced at the wall clock. It read five minutes to nine. “I’d better get back out there. I know Preston wants to leave.” She moved my empty stainless-steel tray to the top of the microwave and picked up the plate of cannoli. “By the way, everyone was raving about the cannoli and biscotti. Lots of people took your card, too.”
“That’s wonderful!” I said excitedly. “Looks like it was a great night for both of us.”
She gave me a high-five. “Darn straight it was.” Gabby opened the door, and we walked back to Preston’s signing table. He was chatting amiably with a couple of star-struck females while Sylvia stood stiffly a few feet away. I wondered when she had returned. Sylvia’s eyes were glued on Daphne, who was giggling and touching Lou’s arm as she chatted with him. I glanced around the store but didn’t see Wi
llow anywhere.
When Gabby saw Daphne talking to Lou, she froze. Lou smiled over at her and said something to Daphne, but she refused to let go.
“That does it,” Gabby grumbled. “She’s been trying to get under my skin all night long.”
“Gabs—” I tried to hold her back, but it was no use. She walked over to Lou and put her arm around his shoulders, then shot Daphne a death glare. Daphne merely shrugged and went to refill her plate. She’d already eaten several, so it was evident that she was a fan of my cannoli.
“Gabs, I’ve been chatting with your hunky cop friend here.” Daphne took a large bite of the pastry, then wiped her hands on a napkin. “My, isn’t he a keeper!”
Gabby kept one hand protectively on Lou’s arm. “Yes, I think so.”
“How long have you two been together?”
“About five months.” Lou ran a hand over his blond buzz cut and smiled at my cousin with warm green eyes. He was good-natured, easy to like, and, in my opinion, the perfect guy for Gabby. As a cop, Lou was also intuitive, and it seemed he had already gotten the message that there was no love lost between the two women. Gabby had never been the clingy type. She was simply doing it to make a point. This was also the longest relationship Gabby had ever been in. I knew she cared deeply for Lou and vice versa and secretly hoped they might tie the knot someday. Aunt Mona was not as subtle about it. Every morning she drew out her rosary beads and said a little prayer that her daughter wouldn’t wind up an old spinster.
Daphne reached for another cannoli. “These are so good. Guess you can’t eat them because they’d go straight to your hips, huh? Too bad you never lost that baby fat, Gabby.”
I had started to clear the table of abandoned, empty coffee cups when a loud shriek punctuated the air. Gabby’s cup of wine was all over the front of Daphne’s dress. Preston’s fans were gaping, and he looked livid. Gabby and Lou appeared shocked, as if they didn’t understand what had just happened.
“You did that on purpose!” Daphne screamed.
Gabby put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness. Daphne, I’m so sorry! Your dress is ruined. Here, let me help.” Gabby gingerly held out some paper napkins.
Everyone was staring at the ruined dress, except for me. I was focused on Gabby’s face. For a split second I caught an expression of immense satisfaction in those wideset eyes of hers, and my suspicion was confirmed.
Daphne snatched the napkins from her angrily. “Baloney. That’s the type of juvenile behavior I’d expect from someone like you. You’ve always been jealous of me.”
“Jealous?” Gabby echoed in disbelief. “Why would I be jealous of a pretentious snob who thinks she’s better than everyone else? I’d be happy never to set eyes on you again.”
Daphne looked shell-shocked as she grabbed her purse off a nearby chair. “That does it. I’m leaving.” She turned to Preston, who had a bewildered expression on his face. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow about the sales.” She shot Gabby a venomous glare and then stomped past us on her way to the front door. A second later bells jingled, and the door slammed loudly.
Color rose in Preston’s angular face. He smiled cordially at the two readers, but they’d already figured out it was time to leave. One woman picked up two cannoli while the other one gave us a fleeting smile, and they hurried to the front door tightly clutching their copies of Preston’s book.
Preston glowered at Gabby. “Miss Mancusi, your behavior toward my publicist was extremely unprofessional.”
“I kind of liked it.” A sly smile crossed Sylvia’s face.
Preston glared at his wife but said nothing.
“I’ll wait for you in the car, darling,” Sylvia drawled. She moved to the front of the store without a single word to me or Gabby. I was starting to think I was invisible.
“Preston, I’m so sorry.” Gabby said meekly. “It was an accident. Honest.”
Preston puffed out his chest. “When more orders come in, we’ll provide signed bookplates to ship. I don’t care to set foot in your sordid little store again.”
Gabby looked crestfallen, so I spoke up. “One minute, Mr. Rigotta. Gabby’s been running herself ragged all week for your signing. There’s no reason to treat her like this. Daphne has been trying to make trouble for her all evening. She had no right to talk to her like that, or anyone for that matter. Gabby only wanted to make this a successful evening for you and herself.”
“Tess.” Gabby’s voice trembled, and I noticed that Lou, who wasn’t usually demonstrative in public, had his arm around her. “It’s all right. Really.”
Preston looked at me like I was a piece of gum on the bottom of his shoe. “Tina, you might make excellent cannoli, but you should learn to keep your mouth shut in affairs that don’t concern you. I’ll never do another signing in this dump again.” With that, he stuck his nose in the air and strode up the aisle. A few seconds later the bells announced his departure.
Gabby sank down into a chair and put her face in her hands. “That’s it. I’m ruined. When word gets out, no other authors will come here again.”
Lou bent down next to her and squeezed her shoulders. “Come on, Gabs. It can’t be that bad. The guy was a pompous jerk. Surely no one’s going to believe him.”
“You don’t understand,” she sighed. “He’s a very powerful figure in the literary world. He’ll tell fellow authors to avoid my store. And since he’s local, he won’t endorse it to his readers either.”
“They won’t believe him,” I assured her. “Besides, that sounds very childish of him.” Was the man really that petty?
“Babe, I’ve got to get back to work,” Lou said. When Gabby rose from the chair, he planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’m off tomorrow. How about I pick you up about noon and we spend the day together? We’ll do anything you want.”
I turned and went into the back room, not wanting to intrude on their intimate moment. As I rinsed out the coffee pot, my phone buzzed with a text from Justin. Hey, I stopped by your house, thinking you might be home by now. Are you around tomorrow?
Why don’t you come for dinner around seven? I typed out. The Italian in me always wanted to make sure the entire world was well nourished. Ever since his wife left him, Justin ate fast food or soup straight from the can. It made me ill when I thought about it.
I placed the phone on top of Gabby’s dorm-size fridge and dumped the contents of the coffee urn into her sink. As I started to clean the inside, she appeared, purse over her shoulders. “Leave it to soak. I’ll take care of it on Monday. Let’s get out of here—I’m beat.” She handed me the plate of cannoli.
“Why don’t you take those home?” I suggested. Only six remained.
She shrugged. “I guess. Lou can eat them when he comes by tomorrow. If I’m feeling up to company by then.”
I grabbed my purse. “Everything will be fine. Maybe you can call Preston up in a couple of days and try to smooth things over.”
“Maybe.” Gabby flicked the lights off and then locked and shut the door behind us. “But for now, all I want to do is go home, watch some television, and drown my sorrows in another glass of wine. Or five.”
* * *
When I opened my eyes the next morning, Luigi’s face was the first thing I saw. Lying on Dylan’s pillow, he’d been gently tapping my face with his paw until I awakened.
“Okay, I know,” I mumbled and turned over to check the clock on my nightstand. It read six o’clock on the dot. “Ugh. You’re brutal, big guy.” I stumbled to my feet, and he waited in the doorway as I grabbed my robe from the bottom of the bed.
We went downstairs together, and Luigi rubbed against my legs as I filled his dish with fresh water and star-shaped kitty crunchies. I toyed with the idea of going back to bed but knew that I wouldn’t sleep. Lazy Sundays slumbering until noon were a thing of the past. Since Dylan’s death I’d had a terrible time sleeping.
>
After I fixed my coffee, I looked around for my phone, but it was nowhere in sight. That was strange. I checked my purse but had no luck there either. I thought back to the previous evening and the last time I’d used it. Yes, I’d texted Justin back. I groaned out loud. I must have forgotten it in Gabby’s back room. Shoot. I wasn’t a big fan of social media but had recently created a Facebook page for the restaurant and a website. Plus, what if my interviewee needed to cancel? I also didn’t know if Justin was coming over tonight for certain. I’d have to go over to the bookstore to retrieve it. With a sigh, I headed upstairs to shower.
When I emerged, it was almost seven o’clock. I got dressed in jeans and a short-sleeved V-neck black sweater. I brushed my dark hair, mumbling when I found a couple of new grays, and then drew it back into a ponytail. I always wore it like that when I went to the restaurant. Perhaps I should look more business-like for my interviews, but it was Sunday and I wanted to be casual. It wasn’t practical for a chef to get dressed up to work in a kitchen, so why put on airs for the interview?
I waited until eight o’clock before I called Gabby on my landline. As suspected, her cell rang three times and went to voicemail. I redialed the number, and she picked up after the second ring, sounding groggy and disoriented. “What?”
“Someone had a rough night,” I teased. “Too much wine? Or did Lou stop by after his shift?”
“No, he’s supposed to come over later,” she murmured, as a crash sounded simultaneously in the background. Gabby swore under her breath. “I knocked over the rest of the bottle. At least there wasn’t much left. What time is it? Wait, what day is it?”
Jeez Louise. She was in rougher shape than I’d thought. “Sorry to call so early. I left my phone at the bookstore last night and need to grab it. Can you let me in?”
“Now? Really, Tess,” she moaned into the receiver. “Why don’t you just run me over with your car while you’re at it? That would be less painful.”
This clearly wasn’t one of her better days. “Okay, how about I stop over for your key and I’ll go in myself? I’ll need your alarm code, too.”
It Cannoli Be Murder Page 4
