Long Island Iced Tina

by Maria DiRico

“So, you’ve never seen the painting before?”

  Tina shook her head back and forth with vigor. “Never in my entire life.”

  Having grown up around an organization where lying was in the job description, Mia had developed a radar for people’s tells when they lied, and Tina Karras was currently a tsunami of tells. She broke eye contact and looked everywhere but at the detective as she continued to deny any knowledge of the painting with a vociferousness that rang false. She bit nervously on a beautifully manicured nail. Even Hinkle look skeptical between yawning the yawns of a father with a colicky infant.

  Mia heard the thud of familiar footsteps. She was relieved to see Ravello stride in. “Dad, you got my text.”

  “Yours, Cami’s, Guadalupe’s, Evans’s. That’s why I didn’t get here quicker. I was too busy reading texts.”

  He kissed his daughter on both cheeks, then gently pulled her to her feet. Ravello replaced Mia in the seat next to Hinkle. The detective thrust his phone in Ravello’s face. “Hey Carina, recognize this?”

  Maria looked over her father’s shoulder, to see an image of the Woman and Cow painting. Ravello made a face. “No. Stupid painting. Why would anyone ride a cow? How would you even get on top of one? It doesn’t make sense.”

  Hinkle put his phone away. “I thought maybe if I surprised you, I’d get a reaction. Not an art critique, a guilty look or something.”

  “That was a good plan. Sorry to disappoint you.” Ravello said this with a wry smile. He addressed his daughter. “Go take care of Nicole. I’ll handle everything here.” He extended a hand to Tina, who was staring at the Mob lieutenant with an expression Mia couldn’t identify. “I’m Ravello Carina. And you are?”

  Tina opened her mouth and paused. Then she found her voice. “Tina. Tina Iles-Karras.”

  “Ah. Nicole’s infamous stepmother.”

  Fury colored the woman’s face. Tina inhaled and exhaled through her nose, like an angry bull. “And the victim of a very, very cruel joke.”

  Ravello’s smile thinned. “That painting’s gotta be worth a fortune. I wouldn’t exactly call it showing up here with your name on it a joke. What do you think, Detective?”

  Hinkle gave a vigorous nod. “Agreed.”

  Mia left her father and the detective to their unlikely partnership and went to find Nicole. She saw Teri Fuoco had cornered Justine Cadeau in the foyer and was in the middle of an interview. Much as the reporter annoyed her, Mia was curious to hear the art dealer’s take on the situation. She sidled over to the women.

  “It’s extremely difficult, if not impossible, to sell famous paintings, even on the black market,” Justine said into the tiny mic Teri held up to her. She pushed her Manhattan-trendy black eyeglasses back to the top of the bridge of her nose. With her flawless blonde bob and black pants/white shirttail, the kind of deceptively simple outfit that cost a fortune, the dealer gave off the vibe of coming from money.

  Probably went to one of those fancy sister schools where they drink champagne and talk about their trust funds. Mia hated that women like Justine made her feel insecure. She shook off the side trip and turned her attention back to the conversation.

  “But these weren’t great works of art,” Teri said. “I looked up all the paintings stolen from the Miller Collection. They were the lesser-known works of great artists.” Mia reluctantly acknowledged that Teri had done her homework.

  “That was the brilliance of this heist,” Justine said. “Each painting had enough cachet to command a high price from wealthy financiers or oligarchs, yet wasn’t so iconic that it could instantly be identified by whoever viewed it. Stupid art thieves steal famous paintings. They’re impossible to move. But what’s weird about the Miller Collection robbery is Cow and Woman is the only stolen painting that was ever seen again.” Ryan Hinkle appeared at the door and motioned to Justine. “Sorry, that officer wants to talk to me.”

  “No worries,” Teri said. “I’ve got your contact info.”

  The art dealer disappeared into the Marina Ballroom. Teri did a happy dance. “Oh, man, I love this story. You know what it is? Sexy, that’s what. It’s a sexy, sexy story. A beautiful stepmother, a stolen painting suddenly showing up again. It’s got so many good elements I barely have to mention the Boldano Family.”

  “Or not at all,” Mia said, hopeful.

  “I said barely. That’s very different from not at all.”

  Mia checked her wrist. “Oh, look, it’s Teri-was-just-leaving time.”

  “You’re looking at freckles, not a watch, but I’ve got my story. Which none of them do.” Teri, with a cocky grin, gestured to the news vans outside. “Call me if anything interesting breaks.”

  “Will do that . . . never.”

  Teri blew Mia a kiss and left. Mia shot a middle finger at her back and resumed her hunt for Nicole. She found her lying down in the upstairs bridal lounge and hurried to the pregnant woman’s side. “Are you okay?” she asked. Panicked, she added, “That baby isn’t coming now, is she? Or he?”

  “No, although it would be the perfect end to today,” Nicole said, her tone sardonic. “Ian just got here with the van he rented. Mom and Nonna are done being interviewed by the detective and some of your very nice employees are helping to load the van. The detective said it would be okay to take everything as soon as the crime scene unit finished taking pictures and dusting for prints. They don’t need to hold on to anything for evidence except the painting. It’s not like I unwrapped a dead body.”

  “Thank God for that.” Mia flashed on visions of a body lying in the bottom of a bachelor party jump-out cake and a body found in a dumpster, both victims of murders that nearly doomed Ravello, as well as Belle View, in the spring. She banished the images.

  It took a few more hours, but eventually the police finished their investigation and interviews. Mia and the staff cleaned up the baby shower detritus, and then Mia released the employees who were still there—Cammie had departed with ex-husband Pete, who promised a stop at her favorite jewelry shop if she joined him for dinner. “Do you mind taking Nonna home?” Mia asked her father as they double-checked the rooms for any missed trash. “I wanna put a call into Posi.” Given his dicey connections, there was a good chance her inmate brother had some insider knowledge about the Miller Collection theft.

  “Sure. I can drop her off.” Ravello gave a shout to his mother. “Hey, Mama! Vieni qui.”

  Elisabetta emerged from Mia’s office. “What’s up? I was on the phone. Annette Cornetta was at my table and marone, did she have a story. You know how her husband Gugliemo died a couple of months ago? They buried him without his shoes. Terrible mistake on the part of the funeral parlor. I told her she should sue.”

  “Not sure that that’s a sue-able offense, Nonna,” Mia said. “In fact, I pretty much doubt it.”

  Elisabetta brushed off her granddaughter’s comment with a wave of the hand. “That’s for the lawyers to decide. But poor Annette’s been having the same dream over and over again. Gugliemo shows up, begging and crying for shoes. His feet are so cold, he says. Annette can barely sleep. But I called her with the perfect solution. We’re gonna send up a pair of shoes for Gugliemo in someone else’s casket.” Elisabetta looked pleased with herself while Mia and Ravello managed to hide their reactions to Elisabetta’s bizarre idea. “Andiamo,” she said to her son. “I gotta get home and find a funeral to go to. Queens is a big borough. Somebody’s dying somewhere.”

  Ravello escorted his mother out of the catering hall, tossing an eye roll back at Mia on his way out. She retreated to her office. Putting a call through to a prison inmate wasn’t easy, even at a minimum-security facility like Triborough, where the goal was to transition offenders to life on the outside. But Posi was a regular at the facility, and Ravello had done a stint or two back in the day as well, so Mia was put through to her brother relatively quickly. She detailed the day’s events to him. “Do you know anything about the Miller Collection heist?” she asked.

  “Not much
. I was only a few years older than you when it happened.”

  “Have you ever heard anyone in the Family talk about it?” Posi was more connected to Boldano activities than Mia, even if the connection was peripheral.

  “Only in the way anyone who read about it or saw it on TV would.”

  “It sounds like an inside job to me,” Mia said.

  “Agreed. From what I remember, the cops thought so, too, but they could never connect anyone from the Collection to the heist.”

  “Tina Karras passed out the minute she heard the painting was real. I swear she was lying when she told Detective Hinkle she didn’t know anything about it.”

  “And if anyone has a nose for a lie, it’s my baby sister.”

  “It must be a gene that runs in the family,” Mia said. Posi had a history of covering up his illegal activities like car thefts with lies.

  “I’ll ignore that. You want my advice, sis? Forget about the whole thing. This is one for the cops. The last thing Belle View needs is another crime drama on the property. And what does it have to do with you anyway?”

  “Nothing,” Mia had to admit. “Except that it happened here.”

  “Could’ve happened wherever the party was. So, move on. Dad said you want to learn how to drive. Since I can’t teach you on account of my current incarcerated state, I set you up for the next best thing. Tomorrow’s Sunday, you got no parties going on. Jamie Boldano’s gonna pick you up in the morning and give you a driving lesson in the Belle View parking lot.”

  “What?” Mia protested. “Posi, you can’t just—”

  “Time’s up. Bye.”

  Her brother ended the call. “Stop acting like some kind of a dating app,” Mia said to the dial tone. She hung up the landline and began tapping Jamie’s telephone number into her cell to cancel the lesson. Then she stopped. Posi had a point when he recommended leaving the art investigation to actual investigators and focusing on her own life. Jamie was a terrific driver and had more patience than the average Italian man, especially the ones in her family. He’d make a good driving instructor. “This has nothing to do with wanting to spend time with him,” she told the phone. “And I just lied to myself.” She did one last sweep of the Marina Ballroom, then hied herself and her lies home.

  * * *

  In the morning, Mia fed Doorstop and Pizzazz, then changed three times before settling on a learning-to-drive outfit of skinny jeans and a lacy turquoise tank top. The color brought out the bright blue in her eyes, and the cool tone complimented her winter coloring of pale skin and dark hair. She ringed her eyes with navy blue liner, then added two coats of black mascara. She finished the look by outlining her full lips and filling them in with a soft pink lipstick. In case I run into someone I know, she told herself. This has nothing to do with Jamie. And I just lied to myself again.

  A text alerted her that Jamie was five minutes away. Mia used the brief wait to check her computer. She saw several media outlets picked up Teri Fuoco’s story about the discovery of Cow and Woman. “Not my problem, right guys?” she said to her pets. Then she headed downstairs and outside.

  A beat-up old brown sedan pulled up in front of Mia’s front stoop. She ignored it, scanning the street for Jamie’s pristine silver Prius. The sedan driver honked. Annoyed, Mia waved it away. Jamie Boldano got out of the car. “Mia, it’s me.” He grinned, creating a perfect dimple in each cheek.

  “Oh. Sorry.” Mia ran down the steps to him. “Is your car in the shop?”

  “No. I’m teaching you to drive on this one. I got it from someone Little Donny recommended.”

  “Meaning it has a sketchy history.” Mia considered Jamie’s older brother a big-time cafone, a.k.a., a jerk. She surveyed the vehicle. The back fender was missing. Sun had fried the paint on the car’s roof. Both back doors sported dents. “Wow. You don’t have a lotta faith in my driving skills, do you?”

  “I figured this way you don’t have to worry about dinging my car.”

  “Right,” Mia scoffed. “You know, I’ve had some experience driving. Remember that Barbie Jeep I had when I was a kid?”

  “All too well. Which is why I’m teaching you to drive real cars in this junker. Hop in. I’ll get us to Belle View.”

  * * *

  There were only a few cars in the banquet hall parking lot when they got there, belonging to people who had taken out the boats they docked at the marina. Jamie parked and turned off the engine. He handed her the key. “Your turn.”

  The two got out of the car and switched places. “This is so nice of you,” Mia said. “You’re sure Madison doesn’t mind?”

  “Oh, she’s totally supportive. Doesn’t care at all.”

  Mia found the fact that Jamie’s girlfriend wasn’t threatened by her somewhat insulting but pushed this aside to concentrate on driving. She placed a foot on the brake, released the hand brake, put the key in the ignition, and started the car.

  “When you accelerate,” Jamie cautioned, “make sure you do it—” Mia pressed down on the accelerator and the car shot forward. “Aaahhhh!” She slammed on the brake and the car jolted to a stop, throwing them forward and backward against the car seats. “—slowly. We’ll work on that.”

  For the next hour, Mia practiced braking and accelerating. “I’m doing pretty good, huh?” She lifted a hand off the wheel to pat herself on the back and the car swerved right. She grabbed the wheel with both hands and hit the brakes.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” Jamie said. He flinched and rubbed his neck.

  “If you need a neck brace, there’s probably one in the lost and found,” Mia said. “You wouldn’t believe the stuff people leave here.”

  “I’ll live,” Jamie said. “But I wouldn’t mind getting something to eat.”

  “Let’s see what’s in the fridge. I think there might be some of Evans’s cake left over from the shower. It’s so good.”

  Mia and Jamie exited the car and walked toward the catering hall. “What’s that?” Jamie asked. He pointed to a large red bundle floating in the water next to the dock closest to Belle View.

  “No idea. Maybe it fell off someone’s boat. It could be important. We should see what it is and if we can fish it out.”

  The two headed toward the bundle, which bobbed up and down in the water. As they drew closer, Mia’s heart began to race. Oh, no. No, no, no, no.

  Jamie grabbed her hand and clutched it. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked, his tone full of dread.

  Mia fought back the bile rising in her throat, hating what she was about to say. “If you’re thinking . . .”

  A wave from an incoming motorboat rocked the bundle and an arm floated to the surface.

  “. . . that it’s a body . . .”

  Mia saw that the arm was draped in rainbow bracelets. A beautiful, sparkling array of them.

  “. . . then, yes. It is what you think it is.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Mia and Jamie watched in silence as the police retrieved the body of Tina Iles-Karras from its watery grave. The parking lot and marina docks, both designated as crime scenes, were cordoned off. Crime scene technicians worked the entire area. An unmarked car parked in the spot closest to the marina. Pete Dianopolis and Ryan Hinkle exited the vehicle. They conferred with several police officers, then walked by Mia and Jamie on their way to the crime scene technicians. “Don’t go anywhere,” Pete said to Mia as he passed.

  “I wasn’t planning to,” she said.

  The heat index put the feel of the warm, humid air somewhere in the nineties, but Mia shivered. Jamie put a comforting arm around her. It said something about Mia’s state of mind that she barely noticed. The air stank from rotting garbage in the nearby dumpster and whatever lurked in the murky marina waters. Mia prayed the rank scent had nothing to do Tina’s corpse. The thought that it might made her choke down the urge to throw up.

  Pete had a brief conversation with the lead technician and returned to Mia. “We’ll need a family member to officially
ID the vic, but I figure you already know who it is.”

  Mia nodded. “Tina Iles-Karras. From the shower yesterday. Was she . . .”

  Mia couldn’t finish the sentence, so Jamie took over. “Was her death unnatural?”

  “You mean, was she murdered? I can’t tell you that.”

  “I’ll let Cammie know how helpful you were,” Mia said.

  “Too early to say for sure and the coroner will determine the exact cause of death, but it’s definitely suspicious,” Pete instantly replied. He called to his partner. “Hinkle, look alive. Track down phone numbers for the two women I told you about who got into a fight with the vic at the baby shower.” He pulled out a notepad and checked it. Mia’s heart sank as he said read out the names. “Minniguccia Evangelista and Linda Karras.” He looked up at Mia. “The art gallery owner who was at the shower told Cammie about the ladies going at it in the bathroom. And that you were there, too.”

  Mia tensed. She pulled away from Jamie. “They argued, but not in an I’m gonna kill you way.”

  “So you say.” Pete checked his notes. “But this Justine Cadeau also said Linda Karras threatened to dump Tina Karras in Flushing Bay. Which, as we can all see, is exactly where she ended up.”

  Mia thought of Nicole, and what might happen if her mother was accused of murder. The stress could endanger her pregnant friend’s life, as well as the baby’s. The stolen painting might be none of Mia’s business, but Nicole’s health was. “The painting,” she blurted. “The stolen one that suddenly showed up at the shower, with Tina’s name on it. She knew something about it, I know she did. Ask Detective Hinkle. He thought so too, I could tell. The painting appeared yesterday, Tina’s dead today. There has to be a connection.”

  “There doesn’t have to be a has to be,” Pete said. Mia bristled at the mocking tone, but kept her mouth shut as he continued, “If the death wasn’t accidental or natural, I lean more toward a crime of passion, given the catfight at the party.” The detective scribbled in his notebook. “A lotta good stuff here for my next Steve Stianopolis mystery.”