Frosted With Revenge

by Catherine Bruns

  "This is just wrong on so many levels," Gianna said.

  My mother was sitting at the kitchen table with a pile of index cards in her hands and a cup of coffee nearby. She looked up and smiled at us. "Hi, honey. Hello, Mike."

  I leaned down to kiss her cheek. "How are you feeling, Mom?"

  "Never better, darling." She was all dressed up in a sparkly, one-piece gold number that was cut low in the chest and ended about midway down her thighs. It appeared that everything was once again right in Maria Muccio's world. Until Mike sprang his news on her, that is.

  Mom waved the cards at me. "I've got the seating charts here. We still have ten people that haven't responded. I'm going to call them in the morning then give the final count to the country club by—wait, what's tomorrow? Wednesday? I need to give it to them by Thursday."

  Mike's face was stern as he sat down next to my mother. "Maria, I want you to know that I appreciate everything you've done for me and Sal. I'm looking forward to being a part of your family."

  She reached over and patted his cheek and then giggled. "It's my pleasure, honey. I'm looking forward to it too."

  He cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. "I hate to do this to you after all the work that you've put in, but under the current circumstances, maybe it's best that we cancel the wedding, or at least the reception. I'm happy to pay back any money that you've lost as soon as I can. I'm worried about Sal and this potential maniac that's out there trying to kill her. She got another message today, and because of the information in the newspaper the other day, it's likely that this person knows exactly where she's going to be on Saturday. Maybe we could find another place for the reception, and they could perform the ceremony there as well?"

  My mother's face paled under her carefully applied makeup. "We can't find another place now. The wedding is in five days! What on earth are you thinking?"

  Mike's face colored slightly. "I'm thinking of my wife, and your daughter. I'm fine getting married at city hall or wherever Sal wants. The important thing is that she's safe. It's all that matters to me."

  There was a lump in my throat as I reached for his hand. "Thank you for saying what I couldn't."

  Gianna dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. "That was beautiful."

  My mother's face went from pale to crimson in the blink of an eye. "I see. So after I spent all of these hours working on the preparations and put down a hefty deposit, you want to cancel it all of a sudden? Hey, no problem."

  "I'm sorry for the trouble," Mike said. "But I love your daughter more than anything. We'll run off and elope if we have to, but I would like you to be part of our special day."

  My mother rose quickly out of her chair, knocking it over in the process. Her eyes glazed over, and she was breathing heavy. For a brief moment I didn't recognize her. "Well, how thoughtful of you," she said.

  "Mom," I broke in. "I think it's for the best. We didn't want a big wedding anyway."

  She stared at me like I had two heads. "I never thought I had raised such a selfish daughter."

  To say I was stunned would have been an understatement. The woman in front of me was no longer my mother. What the heck is she thinking?

  "You didn't raise us," Gianna interrupted. "Grandma did. You were always busy flitting around with friends, shopping, or trying out some new career. You've always put yourself first."

  My mother bit into her lower lip, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "I take that back. I have two selfish daughters."

  Grandma Rosa grunted and clapped her hands loudly together. "That is enough. Maria, stop acting like a child. This is Sally and Mike's day, not yours."

  My mother slammed the cards down on the table. "Of course. Perhaps you don't want me there at all."

  "Pazza," Grandma Rosa muttered under her breath. "You must stop living in the past. It is unhealthy. Learn to accept things as they are."

  "So now my own mother thinks I'm crazy too." She stared at my grandmother in disbelief then clamped a hand over her mouth before she ran out of the room sobbing.

  Grandma Rosa sighed and reached into the cupboard for a bottle of anisette and shot glasses. She placed them on the table in front of us.

  "Okay," Gianna said. "Let's have it. What's really wrong with her? And don't tell me it's the change. There's more to it than that."

  My grandmother poured herself some liquor and looked questioningly at us. Mike accepted a shot which he downed within seconds, but I shook my head.

  Gianna reached into the fridge and poured herself a glass of wine from the nearly empty bottle. "I may need to open another one at this rate."

  I addressed my grandmother. "Mom is acting really weird, even for her, and I think you know what's bothering her. Did I do something? Is it the wedding?"

  Grandma Rosa downed her shot in one gulp and immediately poured another. She gestured at Mike with the bottle, and he shook his head. "No, cara mia. She has always liked Mike and not that buffoon you were married to before." She made the sign of the cross on her chest. "Rest his soul."

  Gianna crossed herself as well. "Sorry to say, Sal, but no one liked him."

  Jeez Louise. This was going to haunt me forever. "Yes, I'm well aware."

  Mike grinned as he put his arm around me. "You did so much better this time."

  "Not full of ourselves, are we?" I teased.

  Grandma Rosa stared down at her empty glass. "Your mama has become one of those people in that reality show on television. You know, the woman who gets married and acts like a crazy fool. Godzilla."

  "It's bridezilla, Grandma," Gianna corrected her.

  She waved a hand dismissively. "That is good too."

  Mike suppressed a smile.

  "So what's bothering her?" I asked again. "Grandma, you know what it is, don't you?"

  A stupid question because my grandmother knew everything. Sometimes I even wondered if she was a bit psychic.

  Grandma Rosa nodded. "Yes, she seems more pazza than usual, but there is a reason for her crazy tantrums. When the time is right, and if she is in agreement, I will tell you. Until then, try to be patient with her." She pointed a finger at Gianna. "Especially you."

  Gianna's mouth fell open. "Come on, Grandma. You know what I said is the truth. She's always been self-absorbed. Does she love me and Sal? Yes. Do I love her and Dad? Absolutely. But she's always done exactly what she wants. It's like she has blinders on and can't see anyone else. Am I right, Sal?"

  I hesitated before looking into my grandmother's kind and wise, large brown eyes. My emotions were getting the best of me, and my voice trembled. "Honestly, I don't know what we would have done without you all these years." Mike kissed the top of my head as I steadied myself. "I didn't want a big wedding, but since it seemed to mean a lot to her, we went along with it. I wanted the ceremony held on your birthday because of how much I love you. You've always done so much for me and Gianna."

  Gianna nodded in approval.

  Grandma Rosa frowned. "Bah. That is silly. My birthday is no big deal. We all have them. At my age, it is just another day on the calendar. Please do not worry about me, cara mia. This is your day. You two have been through so much, and it is your time to shine. What does it matter if your wedding is at the Tahoe Mahal or in your living room?"

  Gianna laughed. "It's the Taj Mahal, Grandma, and it's located in India."

  She shrugged. "I thought it was in California. What is it you say—my bad? Bah. All I want is for my granddaughters—and my new grandson—to be happy."

  Mike leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for that."

  I twisted a napkin between my fingers. "I think Mike's right about canceling the reception at the country club. Hopefully Mom will come around and agree. And I hate seeing her and Dad lose money on this."

  "I meant what I said." Mike's tone was quiet but firm. "I'll pay her back."

  Grandma Rosa waved a hand impatiently. "There are more important things to worry about right now."

  My father
appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. "Bella donna."

  He wore an odd expression on his face, and for a moment I worried he might be having another stroke like he had back in January. "Dad, what's wrong?"

  He crooked a finger at me. "I think there's something you should take a look at."

  Mike and I both rose to our feet in a hurry. "Is there someone hanging around outside of the house?" I tried not to panic.

  Dad shook his head and started back toward the living room, indicating we should follow. He sat down in his swivel chair and pointed at his computer screen. "I've been getting comments on my newest blog post. I called it 'You'll Know When It's Your Time to Go.'"

  "For cripes sake," Gianna groaned. "This is embarrassing. Please tell me you're not using your real name."

  My father shook his head. "I call myself Father Death. But I did post on Twitter using my own name."

  Gianna snickered. "Yeah, we remember about the five followers."

  Dad smiled up at her, obviously pleased with himself. "Make that over two thousand now. I'm starting to feel a bit like a rock star here."

  "Holy cow. What is wrong with this world?" Gianna wanted to know.

  My father's usual jovial looking face was grim as he stared into my eyes. "I did post on your Sally's Samples page, remember, until Josie took it down. I had a link to my blog on it, which might explain how this person knew where to find my posts and write you this—note."

  The tension in the room had become thick enough to slice through with a frosting knife. "What are you talking about?"

  My father scrolled down the page of comments until he found the one he was looking for. "I think this one might have been left for you, my sweet girl."

  We all leaned forward to read the post, Gianna at my right and Grandma Rosa to the other side of my father. The writer went by the name of Miscellaneous.

  "That's odd," Gianna mused. "Most people use Anonymous. I don't think I've ever seen anyone sign their name like that before."

  Then she gasped.

  After Mike finished reading the screen, he was gripping my shoulders so tightly that the bones started to ache. As for me, normal breathing had become extremely difficult. The post read:

  Hey, Father D, you've hit the nail right on the head. Marvelous post. I'm so glad I found your blog. We might not want to face these things, but we all know when it's our time to go and should make the best of it. - Miscellaneous

  P.S. Tell Sally that her time has come.

  CHAPTER TEN

  "I just talked to Lena Coletti," Brian said over the phone to me the next morning.

  "Who?" I asked, momentarily confused. My brain was in a state of disarray these days. I'd tossed and turned all night after reading the message intended for me on my father's blog. The first thing this morning, I phoned Brian's partner, Adam. Less than ten minutes later, Brian had called me himself.

  Brian cleared his throat. "The owner of Mama Lena's Restaurant. Sally, she said there wasn't any male staff working at the restaurant the day of your shower. Even her two chefs are female. She has one full-time employee in his fifties and a couple of part-timers barely out of their teens. Neither one matched the description you gave. Plus they weren't scheduled to work that day."

  A chill the size of New York spread through my body. "I saw him with my own eyes. Josie and Gianna saw him too. We're not making this up."

  "I didn't say that you were," Brian said quietly. "There might be another explanation."

  His intended meaning hit me like a brick wall, and I sucked in some air. "Oh my God. He was only there because of me, wasn't he?"

  Brian paused. "It's very possible he knew you were going to be there. From what you've already told me, it sounds like your mother broadcasted every last detail to the world. He might have even called the restaurant himself to confirm the day and time of the event. The way the place is laid out, he could have slipped into the private dining room from the parking lot unnoticed. Lena said they unlock the doors about an hour before the place opens. He may have put the package on the table before anyone else got there and was hiding out or pretending to be a patron in the restaurant. Lena said that whenever there's an event, the kitchen turns into a madhouse, so he could have gone unnoticed. From the sound of things, he managed to blend right in. I talked with a few other employees who worked that day, and no one recalled seeing him."

  I clutched the phone tightly between my hands. "Brian, this isn't exactly making me feel any better."

  "Sally, I'm sorry this is happening to you, but I have to ask. Are you still planning to go through with your original plans and the reception at the country club? Because frankly, I don't think it's a good idea."

  I placed more chocolate chip cookies in the display case. "Mike and I told my mother last night that we wanted her to cancel the reservation. My grandmother was going to remind her again this morning. We've made an appointment to get married at city hall instead."

  Brian coughed into the phone. "There's no proof that this so-called waiter is involved, but we are circulating your description of him around. Who knows? He could have been planning to kill you at the shower, looking for a precise moment. This sounds awful and terrifying, but you have to face the facts here. It might be the only thing that keeps you alive until your wedding day. Afterward you and Mike will be thousands of miles away and hopefully out of this lunatic's path."

  I'd never realized before how terrifying it was to live in constant fear. I was standing in the middle of the front room of my bakery, at a respectable distance from the window. I could see Ralph's sedan parked directly across the street. He had the windows down about halfway, and another man was sitting shotgun with him. Mike had called him last night when we got home and instructed that I was not to be left alone for a second. He'd wanted to stay with me himself today, but I'd urged him to finish his job. One babysitter was more than enough. Besides, Mike seemed to agree that Ralph was better qualified than he was to protect me in this particular instance. His pride wouldn't allow him to admit it, but I knew the way his mind operated.

  The entire ordeal was similar to being under water. Every time I tried to fight my way to the surface, someone pushed me back underneath, and I struggled to breathe again.

  Josie was in the back room making a cake—my wedding cake, that is. She was humming away, but I knew she was anxious too. Everyone was. Perhaps what had really terrified me last night was the look in my father's eyes. Life—and death for that matter—had always been a carefree topic for him. When he had told me about the post, his expression had been frightened. That wasn't something I had enjoyed seeing.

  Four days to go until our wedding. Mike had already decided that if this lunatic was not caught by the end of our honeymoon, we would not be returning to Colwestern. I didn't even want to think about that possibility.

  It was as if Brian had read my mind. "Maybe you and Mike should take off early before the wedding and elope. Like, say, tonight."

  I inserted a K-Cup into my Keurig to fix my third cup of coffee this morning and reached into my purse under the counter for an aspirin. My breakfast of choice lately. "We discussed it last night. He's got Ralph giving me 24-hour-a-day surveillance. This has to be costing a fortune, and he refuses to tell me how much."

  Brian's voice was gruff. "Sally, he loves you. Cost isn't important when it comes to protecting someone you care about."

  Raindrops had started to sprinkle onto the ground outside in the form of a delicate summer shower. As I stared out at the sight, my own floodgates opened as well. I hoped the pending storm that had been predicted might keep people from coming to the shop because I wasn't feeling very social today.

  "Can you think of anyone else who might have it in for you?" Brian asked.

  "You already confirmed that everyone I've been involved with before is still behind bars," I said. "There's really no one—"

  I stopped in midsentence as my eyes fell upon the framed award certificate with a giant cookie emblem in the co
rner of it proudly displayed on the wall of my bakery. Last January, Josie and I had competed in the reality baking show Cookie Crusades. We'd claimed first prize along with a check for $20,000. It had been a depressing and anxious time in my life as Mike had just been arrested for the murder of Colin. A woman we'd hired to help in the bakery had stolen one of our recipes for the contest. She had also blamed me for an accident that concerned my ex but had nothing to do with me.

  "Mitzi." I knew there was someone I had forgotten about.

  "Mitzi," Brian repeated. "Wait a second. Isn't that the woman who worked in the bakery? The one whose fiancé was killed by the drunk driver Colin let walk out of his bar?"

  My heart started to hammer against the wall of my chest as the unpleasantness of that entire situation hit me with full force. Colin had been working as a bartender in Florida after I'd left him and failed to cut a patron off one night. The inebriated man had gotten into his car and then proceeded to plow it into the side of a car Mitzi and her fiancé were in. Mitzi's fiancé had been killed. The driver got off with a ridiculously light sentence, and through the fancy footwork of an attorney, Colin had never served any time.

  "Yes," I said finally. "The same exact one."

  "But the accident had nothing to do with you," Brian protested.

  I shut my eyes for a moment. "Well, that didn't matter to her. She said that Colin had destroyed her life, and she wanted to ruin me because of it."

  "What was her last name again?" Brian asked. "I'll run a check on her."

  My mind was drawing a blank. "Jos," I called into the back room. "What was Mitzi's last name?"

  Josie stared up at me in confusion. She was getting ready to place the cake pans in the oven. "The wacko who worked for us for one day and stole my recipe? Graber."

  I managed to contain my smile. When it came to anything cooking related, Josie never forgot a single detail. "Graber."

  "All right. I'll look into it. In the meantime don't go anywhere alone, and keep Ralph close by."

  I glanced out the window again. "I don't think he's going anywhere. Mike's hoping to finish his job sometime tomorrow, so we might take off right after that. I might not need Ralph's services after today."