by Maria Herren
Carlo had wanted to take her to one of their restaurants for dinner, but Charly insisted on making the meal. Nina, a friend and part-time nanny, would come and take the children to a movie and for ice cream.
Alex came into the kitchen as she got busy. "Can I help, Mommy?" he asked.
She tousled his curly dark hair and smiled into his brilliant green eyes. "Of course you can. You can be in charge of the garlic."
"You want a lot of it, right?" he smiled, energetically.
"Right!" Charly laughed, putting him to work.
When he was an infant Charly would put Alex on the counter while she cooked. He was growing up with a great interest in cooking, although he enjoyed junk food, particularly potato chips, as much as anyone his age.
Charly started some water to boil and trimmed some fresh asparagus. "What time is Nina coming, Mommy?" Alex asked.
Charly frowned at her watch. She'd expected Nina to be here already. "Any minute," she said.
She seasoned the water with sea salt and thought about how lucky they were to have Nina Small to look after the children. Nina lived in a house beside theirs. She'd come with her family to introduce themselves and stayed the rest of the afternoon playing with the children. Now Nina was seventeen, but she still loved to play with the children. There was a strong bond among the three of them. Nina and Alex both pampered Lily, and Lily treated the two of them imperiously. She was charming in her three-year-old pomposity.
It wouldn't be long before Lily woke up, and Charly walked back toward Lily's bedroom, admiring all of the flowers. She stopped in the hallway at the picture Simone had sent from the previous year when Carlo had taken them back to Sicily. She took it off the hook and dusted it lightly with her fingertips. Silvia had taken the picture. Vincenzo and Carlo were in the foreground with their arms draped loosely on each other's shoulders, smiling broadly into the camera. Both of their other hands held children. Simone and her daughter, Angela, were caught in profile, smiling up at Vincenzo. Lily was squirming beneath Carlo's arm and was caught by the camera in the act of reaching for it. Charly was sitting on one of the big warm stones with Alex wrapped in her arms. In that frozen moment in time he'd turned to give her a kiss on the cheek. It had been a special day. It was Charly's favorite photo.
"I'll see you next month for Angela's birthday!" Charly said to the photo. Carlo had already bought the tickets.
The grandfather clock in the hallway began to chime. It was Charly's cue to hurry back to the kitchen. Carlo had sworn that there would be nothing to keep him from leaving the office promptly.
Charly let Alex squeeze the lemon for the lemon and garlic dressing on the asparagus. She chopped a Shiitake mushroom to add to the shrimp and scallops she'd sautéed and would warm briefly in a light wine sauce. Some fresh tomatoes, a cup of heavy cream with a few large handfuls of Gruyere cheese mixed in at the end.
"Mommy!"
It was Lily, standing in the doorway, stretching her little arms sleepily over her head. "What smells so good?"
"Hello, sweetheart!" Charly said, smothering her in kisses. "It's just garlic that you're smelling. Alex peeled a lot of it."
"I like garlic, Mommy," Lily said.
"I know you do, baby. Are you ready to go to the movies with Nina?"
Lily was up to something and Charly knew exactly what it was. It was so much fun to watch the wheels turn while Lily thought she was being clever.
"I don't wanna go with Nina tonight. I want to stay here with you and Daddy."
"It's just for a few hours. It's the new movie that's about the pretty black horse. And Nina's going to take you for ice cream after the movie, too!" Charly said.
"I saw ice cream in the freezer!" Lily said with a sly smile.
"It's not your favorite flavor," Charly said. She watched Lily process this new information.
"You're right, mommy. It's not. I want to see the movie and get strawberry ice cream. With Nina and Alex. Not you," Lily added, firmly.
Charly sighed. That's how three-year-olds figured things out. Everything was absolute. Black or white. No gray. She reached down with her wet hands and brought Lily up to her chest. Lily's skin was so smooth against hers as she nestled against her cheek. She wrapped her little hands in Charly's hair and whispered, "I love you, mommy."
"I know you do. Would you please help me set the table?”
Lily was instantly distracted, carrying the silver butter dish from the kitchen to the dining room while Alex carried the plates.
Charly had decided on an appetizer of roasted peppers with olive oil and fresh basil. Reaching into the oven for the peppers she heard the front bell chime. She drew back from the heat and frowned at her watch. Nina was really late, and she generally came in through the gate at the side door.
"Alex?"
"What Mom?"
"Go let Nina in at the front door," Charly said.
She had both arms in the oven seconds later when she heard his small voice, trying not to be afraid.
"Mommy?"
His uncertainty was enough warning. Her spine stiffened and the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stood up defensively. She felt the aggression in the air.
Swallowing the panic she felt rising in her throat she instinctively knew better than to turn and show her fear. She reached further into the oven. "Alex! Come here and help mommy with this!"
Charly listened to his hesitant steps when they pushed him forward. She waited until she could see all of his sneakers and half of his body from the corner of her eye before she swept him forward. "Daddy loves these peppers. He'll be home any minute!" she said loudly.
His wide green eyes met hers. "I can handle this," she said. "Get Lily."
"Who are you?" Charly demanded. "Where's Nina?"
She faced the three pairs of cold eyes. Returning the stare of the tallest masked man she let out a low hiss. "You ... didn't!"
The tall man reached for her arm and she jerked backward. "What do you want?" She was shaking with anger and totally unafraid.
His cold and unemotional voice found its way underneath the stocking cap. "We're not going to hurt you, Mrs. Carruci."
Charly let out a laugh that surprised everyone. "That's very good to hear, tall man. In that case maybe you'd like to join us for dinner?"
The other two men were smiling, behind their masks.
Charly thought she could feel Alex's heart pounding furiously with his fear. She willed her own heart to slow, silently begging for time. If she could somehow make it to the silent alarm . . .
Her glare took in all three of them. Her voice was calm. "My jewelry is upstairs," she said.
The tall man was quick. His long arm lashed forward and caught her behind the neck. He drug her toward him, the slits of his eyes colder than the steel he pressed against her throat. He was strong. He whipped her quickly around. She could see the sun beginning to go down through the windows over the sink. Alex ran toward her. One of the men caught him in mid-stride and lifted him by the shoulder, his legs kicking furiously. "Let her go!" he screamed.
Charly took in a deep breath and was sickened by the smell of fresh blood from the knife at her throat. Watching her son struggle in the stranger's arms made her suddenly wild with fear and gave her the courage to scream. "YOU PUT MY SON DOWN, NOW!"
For just a second her ferocity was enough. Alex landed on his feet and ran back to the dining room, sliding the bolt on the French doors. He grabbed his sister's hand and ran out the door with her. One of the men started to follow them but was stopped by the tall man.
"No! We don't have enough time! Let's go!" He jerked her arm high behind her back, propelling her forward. "I wanted all three of you," he breathed into her ear.
One of the men grabbed her other arm and thrust the sleeve above her elbow. She stared into the blackness of his mask and tried not to jerk when he plunged the needle into her arm. She said a silent prayer for Alex and Lily as her eyes closed.
Eleven
Twenty minut
es later Alex and Lily were still hidden, crying in the tall grasses by the lake. "I want mommy!" Lily whimpered. "It's gonna be okay," Alex whispered to her. He was still holding her hand and it gave him some small comfort to feel her warmth.
"Charly! Alex! Lily! Nina! Where is everybody?" Carlo yelled.
Alex and Lily drug themselves out of the mud and staggered forward. Lily's little legs were churning to keep up with Alex. "Daddy? Daddy!" he yelled.
Carlo watched his children stumble toward him covered in dirt and tears. Thinking someone was drowning, Carlo threw off his jacket and vaulted the railing. He scooped Alex and Lily in his arms on a dead run.
"Where are they, Alex?" Carlo asked.
"They went that way, Daddy!" Alex yelled, pointing over his father's' shoulder.
Carlo slowed his run, checking the water, hearing no cries for help. "What do you mean, Alex? Where's Mommy? Where's Nina?"
Tears were streaming down the children’s faces. "Nina never came, daddy. Covered people did. They took mommy!"
Carlo reached for his cell phone and dialed 911. His next urge was to run frantically through the house, looking for his wife. The sobs from his children stopped him. The police entered the house to find him holding them in his lap, bouncing them on his knees. They both had the hiccups.
"Have you been through the house yet, sir?" the sergeant asked.
''No. I called you immediately," Carlo answered.
Alex was hiccupping steadily to the even bounce of Carlo's knee. Lily had her thumb in her mouth, her eyes closed.
"The children were in the house when they took your wife?"
Carlo nodded. Alex buried his face in his father's neck. "Daddy, ohhh daddy," he sobbed. "Mommy was 'fraid of them as me. (hic). Big (hic) knife, Daddy."
"You're a very brave boy, Alex," Carlo said, stroking his head softly, his own body stiff with fury. "These officers are going to need your help to find mommy. You have to tell them everything that you heard and everything that you saw."
"Daddy?"
"Yeah, Alex?"
"I dunno what he looks like," Alex said in a small voice.
"Who?" Carlo asked.
"The tall man, daddy!" Alex said, crying again, caught in a convulsive hiccupping fit, his entire little body shivered with each breath.
The number of officers in his kitchen was slowly growing. "They found a body."
The words came from a young police officer coming down the hallway. "Mr. Carruci, would you come with me to identify this body?"
Carlo sat with the children in his arms. "Would someone please hold them for me?" he asked.
The young officer had a little girl the same age as Lily. He silently sat down and reached out his arms for her. Another officer reached for Alex but Alex said, "No. I'll (hic) stand right here (hic)," and he took hold of his sister's hand.
They walked Carlo into the trees and watched him closely. The trail of blood from the side of the house was easy to follow. He looked down at her small, crumpled body. "It's Nina," he whispered, kneeling down to touch her shoe. "I'm sorry, Nina," he said, his voice heavy with relief.
"Stand up, Mr. Carruci! Now!"
They went through his house room by room. The open windows in the cruisers permitted part of the conversation from the cluster of officers in the yard to filter through.
"... goddamn. I haven't seen this much blood from one body, ever. Someone really wanted her to bleed ..."
"... oh, sweet Jesus. It's Nina Small. My daughter goes to school with her..."
·"... that was one sharp knife ... keep everybody back, dammit ... If someone was stupid and we act like we're smart maybe we'll find something with fingerprints all over it ... OUCH ... stay away from this! This plant is sharp!"
"That's a prickly pear. They grow better in full sun."
"Thanks for the horticultural advice, lieutenant. Can someone put some markers around this fuckin' plant?"
"... she looks so ... I think I'm going to be sick ..." Carlo watched the officer throw up on his front lawn.
"Jimmy's the best we've got on burglaries, but he doesn't hold up well on murder."
"Maybe it's what I had for lunch, but I'm not feeling so good. I'm gonna go look after Jimmy."
"Who's gonna give the news to Nina's parents?"
⇼
Hours later, at the station, Margaret was alarmed by his empty expression. "Has he eaten?" she barked at the first body she saw.
"Well, I'm not sure, ma'am."
"I'm not hungry," Carlo said.
"I know," Margaret said, and walked down the hall toward the vending machines. She returned with her arms overflowing with freshly popped popcorn, some Pepsi and a delightful selection of candy bars.
Carlo took an absentminded bite from one of the candy bars and combined it with some popcorn. "It's our seven year anniversary, Margaret."
"I know, Carlo," Margaret said, softly.
“I'd give them anything they wanted. They didn't have to kill Nina," Carlo muttered.
"Charly's going to be okay," Margaret said.
They shared his unspoken thought. Charly's captors had already committed murder. "I'm sure she will," Carlo said, absently. "Do you have a cigarette?" he asked, staring at the wall.
"I didn't know that you smoked, Carlo."
"I don't," he said simply.
"I'll see what I can find," Margaret said.
Standing underneath an Exit sign she found a young officer with a cigarette dangling from his lips. She found a fistful of money in her jeans pocket. "I'll buy whatever you've got left," she told the officer.
"Why are you here?'' the officer asked.
"I'm with a friend," Margaret said.
"Who's your friend?"
"Carlo Carruci," she said. "Neither of us are usually smokers."
The officer instantly changed his demeanor. He stuck a lighter in an almost full pack of Marlboros. "Bad situation, ma'am. No charge for the cigarettes. I hope everything turns out okay."
Carlo bent his head for the flame and sucked the smoke deep into his lungs. "How long has Alex been in there?"
''Not very long, Carlo," Margaret said.
"I should be with him. I hope he's not afraid."
"They're not trying to scare him. They just want to know what he saw," she said, patiently.
"Damn it, Margaret! I know that! Please don't treat me like an imbecile!" he exploded.
Margaret knew his temper well. She knew that the best way to deal with it was to be quiet.
"I'm sorry," he finally said, as she knew that he would. "That was uncalled for."
Generally she took some pleasure in his apologies. This time she couldn't. His voice had been soft but his eyes were angry and filled with frustration. "I meant it," he repeated. "I'm sorry. I have no right to take this out on you."
"I know. Why don't you try not to act like an asshole and I'll try not to treat you like an imbecile," Margaret suggested.
He nodded in agreement.
The two of them had always understood each other and gotten along well.
⇼
A few officers and some forensic specialists were still in his home when the call came through on the land line. They all stared at the telephone when it rang. The answering machine whirred to take a message. The voice on the other end was derisively mocking. "Would any of you like to pick up the telephone?"
They all looked at each other.
"No takers? You must all be smarter than you look! Keep this out of the papers and she'll stay alive until I get the morning edition. Have Carlo answer this phone," the voice said, laughing, then broke the connection.
⇼
Commander Frank Waverly utilized most of the favors owed him and made a lot of promises in the air to keep the story quiet. "They'll only give me a blanket for twenty four hours, Carlo," he told his bleary-eyed friend. "I can't guarantee anything after that.”
"Thank you, Frank," Carlo said. Theirs was an unlikely friendship.
Frank Waverly was an exceptionally large man, both in height and in girth. His father had been killed in the line of duty just a few days before he was born. Both grandfathers were retired officers and growing up he had never tired of listening to their stories about "The Job." There was never any doubt as to what his career would be.
He learned early to love to eat. His mother was Polish, his father was Italian. Their neighborhood was part Italian, part Jewish. His mother had an outgoing personality and made a lot of friends from both communities, which exposed young Frank to a lot of different customs and foods. Sunday meals were the biggest feast of the week and Frank woke up in anticipation every Sunday morning.
His love of food is why he'd first met Carlo. He'd read in the paper about a new Italian restaurant opening. It said that there would be only the finest of imported olive oils and wines. He was there on opening night. Carlo greeted each patron when they entered, and asked them what they thought about the meal before they left. He had an energy and a charm that was very good for business.
The food was even better than was promised and Frank was there every night for a week. Discussion of food and fine wine initially brought them together. Similar interests in literature and history had yielded many hours of animated conversation. Mutual respect had made them friends.
"I'm not sure what we're dealing with here, Carlo, and I'm not going to tickle your ass with a feather to make you feel better. I have a few contacts in the FBI and I'll call them if I need to."
Carlo just stared, blankly.
"Let's get the children home, Carlo," Frank suggested.
"Certo. Of course. Let's go home," Carlo said.
⇼
They tucked Alex and Lily in together. Lily had a hand wrapped in her brother's dark curls and her other thumb in her mouth. "Security, I guess," Frank thought. He went outside and stood in the driveway with Carlo. He had anger burning deep in his stomach that Pepto Bismol was not going to be able to help.
