Deadly Dirty Martinis

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Deadly Dirty Martinis Page 16

by Nicole Leiren


  He exhaled slowly, probably trying to hold his temper and not say anything he'd regret. Occasionally I battled with that as well. "About bailing on you Sunday. When I saw my dad, I just…" His eyes closed and then opened again. "I freaked out. I know you had to deal with the same thing and handled it much better. I'm not saying I've got everything together."

  His admission made me smile, just the tiniest bit. "Me neither, Freddie. I get that it's been a tough few days for you, but it's not been a picnic for the rest of us either."

  He pulled out a chair and sat down, dropping his head over folded hands on the table. "Do I still have a job?"

  "That depends."

  "On?" His question was muffled in the sleeve of his shirt.

  I moved over and sat down next to him. Tapping him on the top of the head, I got him to look up at me. "On whether or not you're going to show up ready to work your butt off tomorrow and that you'll never do that again. We're a team—a family—and we need each other. You get that?"

  He nodded. "I get it, Boss Lady."

  I shook my head. "No, no, no. Hope gets that title. Lilly works fine for me."

  His smile eased some of the worry lines on his forehead. "Okay, I don't want to argue with you when I'm just returning to your good graces."

  "Smart thinking." I stood and moved into the kitchen to make some tea. "You want something?"

  "You got a bottled water? I'm soda'd out."

  I handed him a bottle from the fridge. "You still haven't answered my question about smoking."

  Freddie took a long draw of the water before answering. "I wasn't smoking. Never have, though when you see the relaxation come over the face of the person who's just enjoyed a cigarette, I admit there's an interest. They're too darn expensive for me. I need a cheaper escape from the stresses of life."

  It was sad that, at twenty-one, he believed he had enough stresses to look for an escape. Once we got Donny's murder solved, my mom cleared, and life returned to normal chaos, we'd delve deeper into de-stressing him. "We work at a tavern, Freddie. Alcohol is our vice, remember?" I winked, and we both chuckled. Who had time to drink?

  "So, I wasn't taking advantage of any stress relievers, including drinking. I was around someone who was smoking, though."

  "Liza?"

  Even if he hadn't answered, the look on his face would've confirmed my suspicion. "Yeah. She was upset Brock was out visiting Harmony instead of rehearsing with her."

  The woman really was unbelievable. "She has no concept of loyalty. Why can't she rehearse with the other band members?"

  "Tommy did come hang out in the great room there at the Ocean View for a bit, but when Liza kept pouting about Brock being away, he and Johnny headed to Seattle—something about needing to get some new guitar strings and other supplies before they head out."

  "Why did you continue to hang out?

  He shrugged before laying his head on the back of the couch. "We have something in common, so I feel her pain."

  I considered possible connections, but nothing came to mind. "What's that?"

  "The Giovanni crime family stole both our fathers away."

  Stole felt like a strong word, but I didn't want to rush to judgment. "What happened to Liza's father?"

  "He was seduced by the dark side."

  His statement almost made me giggle as I thought of Yoda. Seduced by the dark side, he was. Since Freddie had never mentioned or made a reference to the Star Wars movies, I'm sure the association to my reference point was purely coincidence. "He gamble as well?"

  Freddie grabbed a pillow and curled into it. Who knew those pillows would have so many uses? "That would've been preferable. Back when Liza's dad got involved, they were exploring all types of vices to make their name."

  Illegal gambling had been one avenue. Another guess was probable. "Drugs?"

  Freddie nodded. "According to Liza, they preyed on those who were desperate to make money and change their way of life. They promised them larger cuts than other dealers and suppliers in order to draw people into stepping up."

  "What was the catch?" There had to be one—there always was. Even as sheltered and naïve as I was, this was a no-brainer. Another lesson Gram had taught me: if something looked too good to be true, it was.

  "They were honing in on other dealers' territories. Turf wars broke out. Things got ugly."

  A pang of sympathy went out for Liza. Granted, it was a small pang, but it was there. "Did her father get hurt?" I didn't want to introduce the concept of death again, though I suspected that's what happened.

  The sorrow in Freddie's eyes made me grab a pillow and hug it as I waited for him to answer. "No, he shot and killed someone. I don't think the victim had celebrated his eighteenth birthday yet. Her father is serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole."

  My sympathy for Liza lessened considerably. Not only because she hadn't lost her dad, but she had the ability to go see him if she wanted. It might not be ideal, but he was still alive. Unlike the kid he'd killed, who would never get to grow up and have a family. "And you think that's the same as your father choosing to protect you and your mother by not having you be around those kinds of people?"

  "I think he had a choice to be a part of my life, some way other than sending money. A card or letter, heck, maybe even a visit or two over the past few years would've been nice."

  Hard to argue with that line of logic. "I do understand. I confronted my mother about that same detail. Believe it or not, I just learned the other day that Brock and Harmony sent money home to Gram to help with my care. At least you knew your dad cared enough to provide for you." It still bothered me that Gram hadn't shared with me about their monetary support.

  Freddie lay down on the couch, moving the pillow under his head. Look at that, someone using the pillow as intended. "Not for nuttin', you may be right, Lilly, but sometimes I think it hurt more."

  I patted his leg. "Either way, it hurts, I agree. Speaking of your father, did you call him after Donny died? I remember you saying you were calling your mom." I worried Michael had called his boss and that the mob could have zeroed in on Abe.

  He shook his head. "Nah, just my mom. I don't speak to my father unless absolutely necessary."

  While I pondered what he said, he quieted and, within minutes, was sound asleep. I couldn't bring myself to wake him. He'd been through a lot and probably needed some rest. After locating a spare blanket in my closet, I covered him and turned off the light. The numbers on the digital clock reminded me it was after midnight and tomorrow was a work day.

  As I tucked myself under the quilt my great-grandmother had given me, one of my most sacred family possessions, next to our family Bible, my first thought went to my mother. I'd only spent an hour or so in a holding cell. She'd been there for an entire day and was about to spend the night. Chances were that the lab would finish running whatever tests they needed by sometime tomorrow. She would either be cleared or formally charged with Donny Z's murder.

  My gut told me she was innocent. She hadn't been the best daughter to Gram or mother to me, but after hearing her story, I knew she'd believed she was acting in my best interest when she stayed away. We couldn't change the past, but we could change the future.

  I also wondered if Abe would show up for work tomorrow. I didn't think he'd killed Donny either, but with Abe and the past he couldn't change coming back to haunt him, it would be more plausible than my mom doing the deed. Plus, I still didn't think she was physically capable of committing this crime.

  I flopped over and hit the pillow hard, beating it into submission. Pillows must hate coming to my house. I was running out of time. Liza's words of warning managed to weave their way into my web of worry: …a killer is still on the loose. He or she might not like that you are sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Relentless pounding woke me long before the alarm. I jumped out of bed and ran to the front door. I noted as I raced by that Freddie ha
dn't budged. Wonder what kind of alarm clock he needed to rouse him each morning. I unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door to only the width of the chain. "What?" I'd used one of those loud whispers.

  "Is my son here?" Michael Mahoney held up Freddie's jacket as if daring me to lie. His expression indicated this was no time to play any games with him or use delay tactics. The dark circles around his eyes emphasized the distress etched in every pore of his chiseled face.

  After closing the door long enough to undo the chain, I stepped away and gestured for him to come inside. Pointing to the couch, I offered quietly, "Sleeping like a teenager." I took Freddie's jacket and set it back outside. The smoke smell was faint but still present.

  Tension ebbed from his body as he leaned against the door. "God, I was so worried."

  This time I couldn't help myself. "Why? He's twenty-one and been on his own for a few years now."

  The daggers of disappointment fired from his gaze, making me wish I'd had some tea or something to slow down the thoughts escaping unedited from my mouth. He looked for someplace to sit down, but Freddie's lanky frame filled the couch. The only place left was the beanbag I'd kept. It had served as my sole piece of living room furniture in past apartments, so it didn't feel right to throw it away the first time I could afford more pieces. "Would you like some coffee or tea? I'm afraid I don't have the ingredients for a Bloody Bulldog here."

  "Tea will be fine. You don't strike me as a coffee gal." He plopped down on the beanbag chair. I confess, I had to fight the giggles. He had to be close to six feet tall, making the way his legs and arms hung off the beanbag chair reminiscent of Little Miss Muffet sitting on her tuffet. Thankfully my edit function kicked in enough to keep me from asking him if he'd like some curds and whey.

  "Good choice. The only coffee I have is instant, and you don't strike me as an instant kind of guy." I started the water and put the bags in the cups while watching him from the corner of my eye. He hadn't taken his gaze off Freddie.

  Once the steaming mug of tea was in his hands and enough swallows ingested, he finally spoke. "It's easier to pretend children are merely a financial responsibility rather than an emotional one as well."

  "Especially when you're half a country away."

  The mug was set on the coffee table, and he returned to watching Freddie. "Especially then. After being around him this week, I feel the same emotional connection and sense of overall responsibility I did when we first brought him home." He sighed. "I'd do anything to be able to have a relationship with him again."

  I nodded. "I understand. After spending time with my mother, I felt a connection with her I'm not sure I'd ever felt before."

  He didn't say anything further, apparently lost in thought. After many moments in silent contemplation, the muscles clenched in his jaw. He placed his hand on Freddie's shoulder and gently shook it. "C'mon, son. Time to get up. I've been out all night looking for you when Tucker said you didn't come home."

  Freddie stirred and sat up. "Dad? What are you doing here? Where are we going? I have to be at work soon."

  "Enough of this busboy business. You're a Mahoney, and it's time you started acting like it. We're going to get your things and then return to the hotel to wait for the lab reports. Once Harmony Waters is formally charged, we're on a plane back to Chicago."

  Michael leaned over to grab Freddie's arm and "help" him along. Freddie jerked away.

  "I'm not going anywhere with you. I have a place to live, a job, and friends who care about me. Tucker was the one who found me on the streets of Seattle and gave me a roof over my head. Where were you then? No. Lilly and the others are counting on me. I've let them down enough. All of this is my fault to start with. If I hadn't invited them to the tavern after the show, maybe none of this would've happened."

  As much as I hated to admit it, Freddie was probably right. But he was standing up to his father, and I wasn't going to leave him hanging out there all by himself. "Our past always catches up with us, Freddie. Even if Donny hadn't been murdered on tavern property Saturday morning, that doesn't mean whoever wanted him dead wouldn't have found another time and place to do it."

  Freddie nodded and folded up the blanket. "Thanks for letting me stay last night, Lilly. I'll see you at work in a couple hours." He stepped through the doorway and grabbed his jacket. The faint scent of smoke along with a burst of cold air wafted into my apartment as he donned the outerwear. Once his jacket was on, Freddie stared his father down. "You ignored me for the first twenty-one years of my life. You don't get to tell me what to do now."

  "Son, I did that because I love you." He closed the distance between them and put his hands on Freddie's shoulders. "You have no idea the things I've done because of my love for you."

  Freddie shook his head. "Sounds like your choices, not mine. Anyway, that's not the kind of love I need in my life." With his statement, he headed downstairs.

  Michael turned to me. "I did—I do love him, you know."

  I knew. "I don't doubt that. You have to give him time and stop treating him like he's a middle-schooler who missed curfew."

  Michael took a deep breath before releasing it slowly. "I'm sorry to disturb you this morning. You should know that I'm still going to try to convince Freddie to come home with me. When you love a person as much as I love him, you do things you wouldn't normally do—behave in ways that aren't always acceptable. People have done far worse in the name of the love than providing for and caring for their child."

  He left me to ponder his words about love. He was right. A multitude of sins had been committed over the years in the name of love. If I lost both Freddie and Abe in the same day, I might have to hurt someone, and it wouldn't be because of love. I dumped the rest of my tea and hit the shower. I wanted to be there early to make sure today was the best day yet at the tavern.

  * * *

  Tuesdays were always busy at Smugglers' Tavern. Today was no exception. With the holiday on Thursday, I think everyone in town was eating out in preparation for all the cooking they'd have to do themselves for the holiday.

  Everyone had shown up for work, and I'd just refilled a customer's drink when Abe came out with a rack of clean dishes. "You're pushing those martinis hard, aren't you?" His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

  "You look like you could use one yourself. You doing okay?" I took the tray of glasses and started putting them away.

  Abe grabbed one and poured some lemonade for himself. After a few sips, he shrugged. "I made the call. Now I feel as though my nerves are wires, being pulled so tightly they may break. I've never been good at waiting."

  "Maybe you should do something to relax during your downtime. Do you play an instrument?" I was totally fishing, it's true. And a part—very small part—of me acknowledged that Donny's killer didn't have to be a guitar player. Anyone could buy guitar strings. I just wanted to find out if he had easier access to them because he already played.

  Abe shook his head before finishing off the lemonade. "The only instrument I've learned to play is my iPod, and believe me when I tell you that took one-on-one training from one of my students, along with a series of tutorials."

  Mandi overheard and laughed at his admission. "Don't worry, Abe. I played the clarinet in high school. I could teach you if you want to learn. Though the clarinet is not in the top five types of instruments people usually play, it is common among band students beginning to learn. Approximately sixty-nine percent of students play an instrument at one time or another."

  This time Abe's smile and chuckle radiated with genuine mirth. "Oh, my girl, I will miss you and your unending supply of facts."

  Mandi's smile turned inquisitive. "Miss me? Where are you going?"

  Abe's golden complexion drained of color the moment he realized his slip. I stepped in to try to salvage the situation, as we certainly didn't want Mandi to start asking questions. It would be hard enough to explain to her once he really was gone. "Abe had mentioned to me about taking time off after the hol
iday to visit his daughter. He hasn't seen her in a long time. He'll be gone for almost a month."

  Appeased with my explanation, Mandi perked up and smiled. "That's so great you're going to see her. Since you won't be able to garden, it will be the perfect time." She turned to me before heading in the direction of the kitchen. "If he does take off, you really will need to find some extra help for the kitchen."

  "Already working on it, I promise."

  Mandi disappeared into the kitchen, and Abe put his hand on my shoulder. "Thanks for covering. I'm going to have to get better at that, I suppose."

  Moisture gathered in my eyes at the thought of Abe being gone—not just for three weeks but forever. I needed to change the course of the conversation before I started bawling like a baby. "Promise me one thing?"

  His expression turned serious. "Anything."

  "Promise me you weren't the one to kill Donny. You and I know they had a hit out on you. It would be self-defense, I'm sure. I just need to know before you disappear." Truthfully, I also wanted to know if he was going to be okay with leaving my mother holding his guilty bag while he got a new name and chance at life.

  Abe's tender smile made me want to believe he wasn't capable of such an atrocity. His hand cupped my cheek. "My dear girl, I shall miss your relentless accusations of me committing heinous crimes."

  I opened my mouth to offer a defense, when he shook his head. "I understand. You have a driving need for justice and to protect those you love. There's nothing wrong with that. I swear to you on my daughter's life, I didn't do this to Donny."

  It might make me a sucker, but I believed him.

  A moment later, Julie came into the tavern. She looked around until her gaze landed on mine. She waved. "Hi, Lilly."

  "Hey, Julie. Come on over and have a seat. I'll whip you up a virgin Hurricane."

  I noticed she wore the bright green tennis shoes. Maybe it was a fashion trend I should consider. Though my current wardrobe didn't contain anything that would prove a suitable match. She smiled brightly. "Wow, you guys always this busy?"

 

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