His eyes narrowed when I dropped that information. Apparently he hadn't heard the story.
"When was this? Who were the officers that came by, did you know them?"
"About a month ago these two uniforms came to the door. They asked if they could come in and search the house for evidence that would give them a lead on how Livvy had died.” I thought for a moment. “I'm not stupid, I figured it was bogus and said they couldn't search the place without a warrant. They didn't give me a hard time, but they never came back with the warrant either. I don't know who they are, I'm not familiar with all the locals around town."
"You said the locals had been here before?"
"Uh-huh, they came twice after she died, asking a lot of questions that didn't make any sense to me, but who the heck knows what they were after. I asked once and they put me off, so I let it go. These two guys were different from the first ones, sloppy uniforms and a donut girth, ya know? My aunt was a woman who abided by the law as far as I can tell."
"So you know about warrants from personal experience?” His eyebrows hiked and his forehead crinkled.
"Yeah, but it's not what you think. I teach criminal justice at Roger Williams University. As a matter of fact, I just finished the semester."
It was apparent from his expression that he'd missed that fact. I thought the state police knew everything, but Marcus hadn't known what my occupation was and where. Two points for me, zero for him.
"Then you should be able to describe the two men for me."
I gave him a quick rundown and leaned back in the chair. Exhaustion flowed over me in giant waves. After a long eventful day I was hungry, my body was tired and running on empty.
Marcus must have sensed my overload because he rose from the chair and sat his cup in the sink. “I've got to leave, but I'll stop by again. If you find or think of anything, let me know. You still have my card?"
I nodded and walked him to the door. He strode to the Crown Vic that gleamed under the street lights, and drove off. The heavy door closed, I slid the bolt into the slot, and then turned the handle lock in place. With a tired gait, I stumbled toward the back doors and secured them for the night, closing windows along the way.
After shuffling the contents of the cupboard, I found and opened a lone can of soup. Pouring it into a bowl, I nuked the rich broth until it was hot. With the notepad, and the soup, I headed into my bedroom to sit propped against the pillows to read the notes.
Living alone has its little perks. Nobody complained when I ate cookies in bed or had my dinner in the living room in front of the television. If I wanted to run around in the altogether nobody cared about that either. I thought about these things while I slurped soup broth from the bowl.
Under the light blanket, I tossed the notepad aside and set the bowl on the bedside stand. Too tired to change my clothes, I switched off the lamp and thought about hazel eyes and a body that curled my toes. Hmmm.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 4
Bright sunlight streamed through the windows. I stretched under the blanket while daylight spread across the room. The last memory I had before I'd fallen asleep, of Richmond's eyes and tight body, popped into my mind. With a mental head slap, I slid out of bed and stared at wild tousled hair and a face covered with paint spots reflecting back from the mirror.
I pulled clothes from the dresser and headed toward the shower. I smelled like a sheepherder and looked as though I suffered from jaundice. Pink skinned, I stepped from the shower. With hair wrapped in a towel, I donned purple shorts, a cream midriff top and headed for the kitchen.
While the coffee perked, I returned to the bedroom to run a comb through my long, thick, damp hair. Twisting the mass of waves into a clump, I clipped it up away from my face. In the mirror, my eyes skimmed the trunk cornered against the wall. Since the entire day stretched out before me, I could rifle through it. My parents weren't expecting me for dinner which gave me plenty of time to get the job done.
Concentration had been nonexistent up to this point, but Marcus had nudged me with his questions. It was evident that I'd have to get through the ordeal of private papers that were none of my business. But yet again, they seemed to concern me somehow. Life really sucks at times.
The coffee finished perking and I poured a cup, then hucked a bagel into the toaster. The coffee was strong and after one cup, I poured another as the bagel popped up. After smearing peanut butter onto the bagel, I smacked it together like a sandwich. With a napkin in hand, I took the coffee and bagel into the bedroom. I lifted the trunk lid and gaped at the jumble of stuff packed tight inside.
Perched on the edge of the bed, I tipped the lid farther back to gaze at the papers and trinkets wedged into every nook and cranny. There were tons of memories here. Like a voyeur, I pulled the first layer of documents, letters and photos onto my lap. Some slid to the floor and I figured I might have better luck down there as well.
Tossing the rest of the paper pile I'd gathered onto the scatter rug, I sat my coffee and bagel alongside. With legs folded Indian style, I settled in. My thoughts wandered while I ate and worked through the first stack. Many of the documents and letters were old and from companies involved with stocks and bonds. Some letters from old acquaintances gave no clues so I tossed them into one pile. Others with possibilities went into another pile. The keeper mound was small compared to the rest. Livvy was a saver of things.
Two hours, a bagel and three cups of coffee later, I came across a padded manila envelope. Wedged tight against the side of the chest, the small parcel sealed with tape, puffed at the seams. I pulled the package out and in an effort to pry it open. I squeezed it without concern for the contents.
Colorful gems flew in all directions as the tape tore away. Inside lay a folded note similar to the one Marcus had mentioned. No postmark, no return address, just the note and the gems. I stared at the package contents for a long while, trying to imagine what it was about, but no thoughts sprang to mind. Scrambling around the floor, I retrieved the stones and tucked them into the envelope, eyeing the lovely gems as I put them back. Afterwards, I set the package aside with the note. Marcus material.
Intrigued, I shuffled through the entire chest in search of more gems. Papers piled up on the bed in separated stacks. Letters, documents, photos, invoices and small boxes revealed nothing. Livvy had secrets that she'd never shared with anyone, I guessed, as I peered at the small pouch again. Fingering the surface of the manila envelope, I sat lost in thought for a moment. Why had she kept these gems in the trunk? Who did they belong to? Where had they come from and why? I had lots of questions with no answers.
Upon reaching the bottom of the trunk, I rapped my knuckles on the sides and bottom of the interior. Assured there weren't any hidden compartments I chuckled and felt like I'd entered a Nancy Drew mystery novel. I turned toward the bed and stared in disbelief.
The mess piled atop the unmade bed had nothing to offer that I could see at first glance. I realized I would have to delve deeper into all this stuff. The job was more than I'd bargained for and thoughts of what might be found in the various stacks of stuff made my stomach churn. As I struggled with the issue, I walked into the kitchen, set the coffee maker to brew again and went outside to get the mail. A break and some fresh air seemed a good idea.
The small post office squatted within an elongated building across the street. I scooted through the meager parking lot and into the building to unlock my post box. Advertisements and junk mail filled the compact cubbyhole. I hauled it all out and threw most of it into the trash container as I left. Starting across the paved lot, I ran into Bill MacNert.
"How's it goin', Vinnie?” Bill said with a smile.
"Fairly well. Thanks for your help the other night, Bill. I appreciate you coming down."
"No thanks necessary. Just call anytime you need a hand. Did you find out what that box contained?"
Not that I didn't want to share the information, well, okay, I didn't want to share it. I thought
for a second and said, “The trooper has been by, but hasn't mentioned what was in the box. He just said it wasn't a bomb."
In an effort to get away from Bill's enquiring eyes, I stepped towards the street. With a nod and small wave, I edged away from Bill.
My glance settled on the black SUV parked in the driveway. The Hunk came around the rear corner of the house and strolled toward the street. He stopped to peer into one of the windows as I moved in his direction. I continued to watch him between the passing cars.
He turned and those dark eyes rested on me. With a wave, Aaron moved forward with a long legged, casual gait and a friendly smile. I closed the distance between us and met him at the gate to the house.
In the wake of my gem discovery I wasn't in the mood for a day that included this sexy man. On second thought, things could be worse, right? I strode onto the sidewalk, into the front yard and through the picket fence where he waited. We walked idly past the flowering bushes and fresh smelling blooms that huddled on either side of the walkway.
"Good morning,” he said. “I wanted to double check on the time line for the apartment. You've thought over my offer, haven't you?"
There was no doubt about his enthusiasm. An eyebrow arched as I slid a sideways glance at him.
"I've given it some thought and if you're willing to pay the rent with a security deposit, you can move in next week. I have a few questions though, why don't you come in?"
He matched my stride and followed me up the steps. For some odd reason, I figured he wanted a look at my apartment. Maybe it was the fact he'd peered into my windows like a peeping Tom.
I closed the bedroom door as I strolled into the kitchen and indicated a chair for him. We settled at the counter with coffee and his gaze roamed the nearest rooms. “This is a charming old house. I look forward to living here,” he said with a brilliant smile. Straight, square white teeth gleamed against the tan, and I envied him that rich latte skin color he'd acquired.
"Uh huh, it is wonderful. I spent a lot of time here when I was a kid."
"Oh, I thought you lived here all your life. You seem so comfortable with the surroundings."
"My aunt owned this house and I inherited it from her. She passed away during the winter."
Furrowed brows and a look of sympathy crossed his face.
"I'm sorry to hear that. You must be saddened by her loss."
Uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, I passed it off with a shrug.
"She was a great lady. So Aaron, when will you take possession of the apartment?"
"You mentioned a rug delivery so I'll wait until after that to bring in my furnishings. I'll bring in personal stuff in the meantime, though."
I measured him and again wondered over his interest in the upstairs apartment. He'd explained once, but I wasn't sure I believed him and I didn't know why.
"I'm still curious as to why you'd want to live here of all places. Maybe something closer to the city would be more conducive to your needs."
"I've considered that,” Aaron said with a genial smile, “but I enjoy the country atmosphere of the village. You're not having second thoughts, are you?"
"Not at all, I just wondered.” In the wake of my earlier finds, I was curious over anything out of the ordinary. Strange occurrences had my antennae up.
The chair slid back and Aaron rose. He'd drawn a check from his pocket and filled it out while we talked. The check was offered and I took it with reluctance. He may have sensed it by the way his eyes rested on me, but he didn't say anything. The gorgeous smile flashed, the one that I couldn't resist, and I found myself smiling in return.
One long stride took him to the kitchen door where he turned and asked for the key to the apartment. Lifting it off the nearby hook, I handed it to him with a smile. “It's your apartment now, but I'll tidy the mess I left."
Footsteps shuffled up the stairs and I heard the door open and close. I cleared the counter and headed back to the bedroom. From the looks of the debris I'd left, a bunch of monkeys might have celebrated in there.
Papers lay askew across the end of the bed while jumbled covers were tugged up onto the pillows. Photographs mixed with letters splayed in piles over the remaining surface. Tiny decorative boxes tumbled in a heap alongside everything else. I heaved a sigh and wandered toward the project.
After another few hours engrossed in letters and photographs of people I'd never met, I sat back with a lot of questions. Some pictures had names and dates scribbled on the back while others remained blank. Another mystery to solve that I thought my mother could help with.
It was then I realized I'd never heard the doors close or steps leave the apartment above. I stood and stretched, then wandered into the front room and peeked out the window. No SUV or sign of Aaron Grant anywhere. Hmm, I thought. I must have been so wrapped up in Livvy's belongings that he'd left without my knowledge.
The phone chimed as I turned from the window. I picked it up to hear Lanky's voice on the other end. He'd had a splendid night he said and sounded like love was in bloom.
"Have you decided to rent the apartment to Hunky Handsome yet? He's really luscious, Vin.” He gasped.
"Yeah, he came by this morning, slapped a fat check into my hand and now he'll be my neighbor. There's just something about him, but you know what, as long as he pays the rent, I don't care."
"I'm glad, because you need to move on. It's been months since Livvy died and you need to get back into life. Have you had anymore jewel deliveries?"
"No, but I found a parcel in Livvy's trunk."
After I'd told Larry about the package and the state trooper, there'd been excitement in his voice to think there was a mystery in my life. Lanky's own life had been sluggish until he met the Liz Taylor drag queen.
"Like what?” he asked, his eyes filled with anticipation.
"More gems and another note. No postmark and the stones were loose, same as the others I guess. Weird, huh?"
"No, exciting, like a mystery film, you know?"
"Gee Larry, I hadn't quite thought of it in those terms.” I stifled a giggle and thought he was on to something. I'd definitely perked up since the stones had shown up on the steps and now with more gems in the trunk, I was intrigued. Trooper Richmond was a plus, too, as was Aaron.
"Will you turn them over to the trooper or what?"
"Trooper Richmond came by last night after you left. He had questions about Livvy that I couldn't answer, and it brought a keen awareness of unknown things in her life. Anyway, I'll give him a call later about the new find. I need to go visit my mother and have some dinner."
"Give me a call when you have some new information. I have to get ready for my date with my Liz Taylor guy and don't worry, I'll keep you posted."
I smiled and hung up. Larry was a swell friend who deserved happiness, even if it was with a Liz Taylor wannabe.
The phone disconnected in its cradle. I slipped my sneakers on. The trunk squatted on the floor and I lifted one corner to look underneath. There was enough space to stuff the jewel bundle along the inside edge and I did so. No sense in leaving them laying around for someone to snatch. Even though it was unlikely that such a thing would happen in the village. I left all else spread over the bed's surface.
The door clicked behind me as I left and headed to Cranston. My mother always had a scrumptious menu and I was starved. The day had been long and I hadn't eaten since breakfast. My parents didn't consider it an imposition to share a meal with me, so I was happy.
Livvy's aged Volvo spluttered and rambled through the countryside. I drove past pine treed acreage owned by the City of Providence that bordered the Scituate Reservoir. With the car windows open, the smell wafted in and refreshed the interior of the stodgy old wreck.
My parents have lived in Cranston since they got married a million years ago. They own a neat, three bedroom house tucked in behind Cranston Stadium. The house nestles on a postage stamp sized plot of land in an old, well established neighborhood
of blue collar working folks.
Every weekend, when I was a kid, we'd listen to the baseball games at the stadium just by opening the windows. No need to attend, my father always said. There wasn't anyone I'd have gone to see anyhow, unless my brother was playing, of course.
When that occurred, my mother packed a lunch and we'd camp out in the bleachers. You'd think we were the visiting team instead of living a block away. If Saint Giovanni was struck out, my mother would stand up and yell Italian profanities at the umpire. Those were embarrassing moments.
About twenty minutes later, I pulled into the neat driveway bordered by a well manicured lawn and idled up to the garage door. The smell of flowers wafted up my nose and I glanced at bright colored blooms bordering the fence in the back yard.
My parents relaxed on the minuscule deck reading the paper. My mother tipped her news section down, looked over the top of her glasses and elbowed my father. I shut the rumbling motor off and stepped onto the deck.
"She's here for supper, I told you she would be.” Mom said.
He grunted and nodded as he tossed the sports sheets onto the deck floor and went indoors. I could hear plates and flatware rattle against the table surface as a mouth watering smell issued from the kitchen.
"Your father hadn't planned to cook today, but I insisted that you'd be here. Would you like a glass of wine before we eat?"
My mother was a wine drinker from way back. If there was a dilemma, she drank wine, if not, she drank wine. Either way there was a steady wine flow and had been as long as I could remember. Thank God she could hold her liquor.
I smiled and nodded as we went inside. My father stirred the pasta and a gargantuan salad sat on the table, ready to dress. Hunks of Italian bread teetered, piled precariously on the bread board and a butter dish nestled alongside.
"Are you expecting guests?” I asked.
"No, just you. We knew you'd need some food to take home, so your father made extra."
She called it extra, I called it enough to feed an army. But, I would take it home with me and that was worth a lot, right?
For Love of Livvy Page 4
