It Cannoli Be Murder

by Catherine Bruns

  Gabby waved me off and went to peer through the peephole, then turned to look at me with an are you kidding me look. “Why is Matt Smitty here?”

  “Like I said, he’s here to tow my car.” Matt was my old high school boyfriend, and to put it plainly, he and Gabby couldn’t stomach each other. She’d hated it when I’d dated him and had never been shy about telling me so.

  She gritted her teeth in annoyance and muttered, “Good thing I’m leaving,” as she opened the door.

  “Always nice to see you too, sunshine.” Matt gave her a playful wink, which clearly infuriated Gabby. Tall and lanky, he hadn’t changed much since high school. His wide-set hazel eyes stood out in his face, and the rounded chin and cheeks made him seem much younger than his thirty-one years. A dimple on the right side of his mouth flashed when he smiled at me.

  Gabby clenched her teeth together then looked from me to Matt. “Maybe I should stick around. I’m not sure I trust you around my cousin.”

  “I’m the one who called him,” I reminded her.

  “Guess who’s turning into an overbearing bully like her brother,” Matt retorted.

  I laid a hand on Gabby’s arm. “Come on, you two, knock it off. We’re not in high school anymore.” My head still ached, and I was already exhausted from the day, even though it was barely ten o’clock. “Gabs, I’m a big girl, remember? Go open the bookstore. If I need a ride, I’ll let you know.”

  She gave me a hug. “Okay. Call me later. For the record, I still feel like this is all my fault.”

  “It probably is,” Matt said snidely.

  Gabby shot him a dirty look but mercifully said nothing further. She pushed past Matt, and we followed her out to the driveway. After she’d turned the car around, she looked at Matt, with a sour expression on her face as if she’d just eaten a lemon.

  “Be careful, Tess,” she warned me, while giving Matt the evil eye. “There’s a lot of unsavory characters around here.” With that, she sped off.

  Seventeen

  “Nice to know that Gabby’s still fond of me,” Matt remarked.

  “She always has been,” I said lightly. The two had never liked each other, not since sixth grade when she’d given him a fat lip for putting gum in her hair. I’d always secretly wondered if Matt had done it to gain her interest, but if so, it had certainly backfired.

  He laughed, and then his expression quickly sobered. “Maybe it’s more that she’ll never forgive me for being a jerk to her cousin, and how I managed to screw up a good thing.”

  An awkward silence followed between us. I was glad that we were friends again, but not interested in anything more from him. Last fall, much to my dismay, he’d also been a suspect in Dylan’s murder.

  Matt and I went way back to grade school, and we’d ruined a perfectly good friendship by dating each other during our senior year. He’d been too possessive, so I’d broken it off. Matt had not taken the rejection well. He’d gotten into drugs and fallen in with the wrong type of crowd. There were rumors Matt had been in rehab after that, but I still didn’t know the full story since I’d been away at school. When I returned, he had already started dating a pretty blond from Georgia named Lila. They’d married shortly afterward and had three children within four years.

  I studied him as he ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair, pushing the bangs out of his eyes while looking over my obscenity-riddled vehicle. He’d never liked Dylan, but fortunately my fears of him being a killer had been unfounded. Lila had taken their three sons and left town while Matt had been under the cloud of suspicion. I’d felt responsible, but he’d assured me they’d been having other problems. After Dylan’s killer was behind bars, Matt came to see me unannounced one day and asked if we could be friends again. Thankfully, he seemed more interested in getting his family back than anything else, and I hoped it worked out for him.

  Matt walked around the entire car and gave a low whistle. “Unbelievable. They barely missed an inch, Tess.”

  “It wasn’t a random act,” I admitted.

  His mouth was grim. “Yeah, I kind of figured that. I can’t remember the last time someone spray-painted a person’s car around here. People don’t do that type of thing in Harvest Park.”

  Maybe not, but we’d now had three murders in this town within the past year—Daphne’s, Dylan’s, and another one related to Dylan’s killing. Matt’s words didn’t exactly reassure me. Harvest Park was a picturesque little town with people who were a bit too nosy for their own good but also happened to care deeply about one another. Murder wasn’t supposed to figure into the equation.

  Matt placed his hands on his slim hips. “I heard about Daphne Daniels, and her body being found in Gabby’s shop. Does your car’s damage have something to do with it?”

  I hesitated, wondering how much to tell him, but news did travel fast around here. “It’s possible. Remember how Daphne was always bullying Gabby? Well, it doesn’t exactly bode well that she died in her store, so we’ve been asking questions. I think someone’s setting Gabby up to take the fall.”

  “Yeah, I remember what a jerk she was to Gabby.” Matt’s jaw tightened. “I asked Daphne out once, you know. She laughed in my face. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my adolescent life.”

  His statement surprised me. “I didn’t think she was your type.”

  Matt’s amber eyes brightened. “No, but she was always a knockout, and I was a hormonal teenager. Now when I look back, I don’t know why I bothered. There were other lookers besides her—and they were much nicer, too.” He watched me for my reaction.

  Time to change the subject. “So, what do you think—about the car? How much will it cost me?”

  He pursed his lips. “I don’t do body work. I mean, I know how, but my place is way too small.” Matt owned a two-bay repair shop, the Car Doctor, in Harvest Park. He was an excellent mechanic and thrived at the job. “However, I know a guy who could do it. Gus Bailey owns In-N-Out Autobody.” He nodded toward his tow truck, which was parked behind my car, thankfully blocking it and the graffiti from the view of my neighbors. “I could tow it there, if you like. To guess off the top of my head, I’d say around five grand.”

  I sucked in some air. “My car insurance will take care of it, right?”

  Matt shook his head sadly. “Probably not. I mean, you can check with them, but graffiti isn’t usually an item that’s covered. Sorry that I don’t have better news for you.”

  I tried to steady myself against this newest shock to my system. I had the money, but it was going to hurt. Most of Dylan’s life insurance policy had gone to pay for the renovations at the restaurant and to cover my monthly expenses. I hadn’t worked at a paying job since my brief stint at Slice last November. Sure, I had counted on things coming up, but not this.

  I leaned against the car. The spray paint had long since dried. “You might as well go ahead and tow it. How long do you think it will take Gus to do a new paint job?”

  Matt stared down at his phone. “He just texted me back. Gus said a week at most. I have an extra vehicle down at my shop if you’d like to borrow it for a few days.”

  “No, that’s okay.” It was a nice offer, but I didn’t want to be indebted to him. “What do I owe you for the tow?”

  “There’s no charge.”

  I shook my head vehemently. “I have to pay something. You need to make a living, too.”

  He smiled at me, shading his eyes from the unrelenting sun above. “Well, maybe we could work something out.”

  Oh, jeez. Had it been a mistake to call him? I thought he understood that I had no interest in dating him again. “Like what?”

  He grinned wickedly. “Don’t look so panic stricken, Tess. I meant maybe a tow job in exchange for dinner at your new restaurant. It opens this week, right?”

  Relief flooded through me. “Sure, that’s fine. Let me know what night
you’d like to come in. That doesn’t seem like a fair trade, though.” Tow jobs were at least a couple of hundred dollars. How I wish I hadn’t let my roadside assistance lapse last year.

  He leaned against the car, arms folded over his chest. “Would it be okay if I brought the boys?”

  “Of course. I have a children’s menu.”

  “Great. Put the four of us down for opening night, then. Unless you’re already booked?”

  Didn’t I wish. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I still have room. That includes dessert for all of you as well, and anyone else you’d like to bring.”

  “It will only be me and the boys.” Matt’s eyes were puffy, indicating a lack of sleep, and his usual ruddy face was pale. “They’re staying with me until next week. I’m hoping to get Lila to give me joint custody.”

  I tried to phrase my question in a delicate manner. “Does this mean you two are officially separated?”

  “Lila’s asked me for a divorce. She’s seeing someone else but won’t tell me the guy’s name.” He gave a bitter laugh. “She probably thinks I’d try to go after him.”

  “I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

  Matt shot me a small, sad smile. “Thanks, but it’s not your problem, Tess. This is my own doing. Someday I’ll learn from my mistakes, right?”

  * * *

  After Matt left, I decided to make sausage and peppers. The situation with the car had freaked me out, and I needed to de-stress and keep my hands busy for a while. Luigi settled himself on a stool at the breakfast counter, observing me in silence and possibly weighing his chances for a tasty treat.

  “What do you think, big guy? A piece of sausage for your lunch?”

  He made a little chirping noise as he hit the floor, which I took as a yes. I cut up a small piece of the meat and placed it on a paper plate for him to gobble up.

  I sautéed the onions with garlic and then added sliced Italian sausage and peppers. It wasn’t long before the comforting smell started to diffuse through the room and helped me to relax. Ah, much better.

  Someone banged on my front door, and I let out a low groan. My happy, safe place had been invaded once again. I sighed and turned the burner off, wiped my hands on a dish towel, and made my way into the living room, with Luigi following at my heels. I glanced through the peephole, and the face looking through on the other side made me do a double take. Something told me this wasn’t a good omen.

  I opened the door and stared out at Lorenzo. “Hi.”

  He practically jumped at my greeting. “Hi, Tessa.” Lorenzo looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He was unshaven and there were heavy circles under his eyes. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  I held the door open. “Of course. Would you like a cup of coffee?” By the looks of him, he could use one.

  “No, thanks.” He stood there in the vestibule, his anxious eyes darting around my living room. Luigi sniffed at his shoes and then, as if satisfied, jumped onto the arm of the loveseat and nudged my hand with his head. I reached down to scratch him behind the ears. “What’s going on?”

  Lorenzo shifted his weight nervously from one foot to another. “I need you to help me. My mother said you would. When the police find out they’re going to think I killed Daphne for sure.”

  Instantly I knew what he was referring to. “You heard back about the blood test?”

  “Yeah.” Lorenzo’s voice was barely above a whisper. Before he spoke again, I already had my answer. He let out a strangled cry and put his head in his hands. “It was—me. I was the baby’s father.”

  Eighteen

  A hand flew to my mouth before I could stop it. “I’m so sorry.” My heart broke for him. I didn’t know if this would make Lorenzo look guiltier to the police but suspected it wasn’t going to help his innocence.

  “Daphne was sixteen weeks pregnant and never said a word to me.” His voice, devastated and hollow seconds ago, now shook with rage. “Why did she do that? I had a right to know. She must have realized she was pregnant.”

  For a moment I was tempted to say she hadn’t. I’d heard of unusual circumstances where a woman didn’t know she was expecting until much later in term, but it seemed unlikely in this case. Daphne had clearly used him. I was convinced she’d planned to pass the baby off as Preston’s. Even if it hadn’t worked, he may have offered her money to keep silent about their affair.

  Lorenzo looked at me as if he’d read my thoughts. “Daphne thought I was an idiot. She used me for a good time. She wanted that author to marry her and was going to lie and say it was his baby.”

  I placed a hand on his arm. “You need to go to the police and tell them.”

  “No way. They’re going to think I killed her, and my mother will freak.” He dropped his face into his hands and the anger died, giving way to another anguished sob. “That was my kid. I’d have been a good father. I would have helped her with expenses, but she didn’t care about any of that.” He gave me a pleading look. “You believe me, right? I swear, I didn’t kill her.”

  His imploring eyes and heaving shoulders helped to convince me. “Yes, I believe you.” But would Paddy and the rest of the police force?

  “Tessa, you’ve got to help me,” he begged. “You have to prove that someone else killed Daphne. I’d never do anything to hurt her. I loved her.”

  As much as I loathed the idea, Gabby and I needed to get back to the Rigotta house and talk to Marta, hopefully when the others weren’t around. “I’ll do what I can, but you should tell your mother what happened.”

  His face fell. “This would have been her grandchild,” he whispered. “You know she’ll be heartbroken.”

  “It will all come out eventually anyway,” I said sadly. “If we can locate Daphne’s obstetrician and show them your blood test, maybe they’ll share some information with you—say, if she mentioned you by name to her doctor.” Or perhaps another male name, but I didn’t want to say that out loud to Lorenzo. It was like walking on eggshells around him. Daphne’s doctor might not share any information because of patient confidentiality, but it was worth a try.

  The misery etched in his face had been replaced by raw, stark fury. “Whoever did this needs to pay,” he said bitterly, “and I’m going to make sure that they do.”

  * * *

  After Lorenzo left, my elderly neighbor Stacia dropped me off at Snappy Rental Cars. One of Gabby’s friends worked there and had wrangled me a discounted rate. Afterward, I went to the restaurant and called my insurance company, who happily assured me that graffiti was not covered under my policy, nor was a rental. This was shaping up to be a banner week. Plus, there were only three days until my grand opening and still no reservations. Well, thinking back to my promise to Matt, at least no paying reservations.

  I wrote a check for the sign man and organized the pickup station for my waitresses. It would have been a great time to sort through my invoices and do a spreadsheet on the computer, but Lorenzo’s grief-stricken face kept appearing before me. Resigned, I called Gabby, who arrived five minutes later to pick me up.

  “Where to first, the Rigottas’ or Daphne’s father?” Gabby asked.

  “We should talk to Daphne’s father, but I don’t have an address for him.”

  Gabby accelerated. “Wrong. That’s where I come in. His first name is Wayne and he lives in an apartment in Albany. He came into the store last year to order a book that I later ended up mailing to him. Unless he’s moved, we can find him easily enough and Lou and Gino don’t have to know.”

  “Then we’ll worry about the Rigottas later. I’m hoping he’ll be willing to talk and tell us if Daphne mentioned her future plans, or maybe even how the Rigottas reacted to her pregnancy news.” Both hands on my watch were pointing at the twelve. “Sylvia must be done taping her show by now, and if she sees me, it won’t go over well.”

  Gabby let out a breath. “I’m
not exactly in their good graces either, remember. Preston bad-mouthed my store on his Facebook page yesterday.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” I asked.

  “What good would it do? He didn’t mention me by name, only the store, but that’s just as bad. He said Once Upon a Book was a joke and his publicist died after eating something vile there. He pretty much came right out and said I was a murderer.”

  “Ugh. What a mess.”

  Gabby’s lower lip trembled. “I’ve decided to tell Liza I have to let her go.”

  “But it hasn’t even been a week since the signing,” I objected.

  “What do you want me to tell you?” She looked like she might cry. “Sales have been down for months and now they’re nonexistent. Why delay the inevitable? Besides, I’m betting Liza already knows. She told me yesterday that she had a job offer from a bank. I think she doesn’t want me to feel guilty.”

  “Maybe it won’t come to that. Don’t give up hope yet,” I encouraged.

  Wayne Daniels lived in a small duplex just outside of Harvest Park. Much like the shabby state of Slice before I took over, his home needed work. The cement steps were close to crumbling underneath our feet as we climbed the small porch. Dark blue paint on his front door was chipped and peeling, windowpanes were dirty, and the roof was covered with a blue tarp, indicating to me that there were leaks in it.

  “Holy cow,” I murmured as we rang the bell. “Daphne’s father must have fallen on hard times. Didn’t they own a nice colonial on Autumn Drive before? I wonder what happened.”

  “He looked sickly the last time I saw him,” Gabby remarked. “When he stopped in the bookstore, he mentioned that he wasn’t working anymore. Maybe he’s not well enough.”

  No doubt having his only child murdered wasn’t helping things either.

  The front door opened a crack, and a man dressed in a dingy T-shirt with gray hair receding at the temples peered out at us. He was much older than I remembered, but it was definitely Daphne’s father.