“So,” she started gamely, taking Nico’s hand under the table, “did you guys get to see any of the city? I know the circumstances weren’t ideal, but we have a lot of cool places to go and things to see.” Nahia felt like she owed Nico the effort after the drama of the day before. It was the very least she could do.
Carlotta smiled tightly. “No, we were too busy mourning our family member for any kind of a tour.”
A swing and a miss. “Understood. Maybe you could come back and spend some time here.” She looked to her boyfriend who was grinning like she was a psychopath who may or may not have had a loaded weapon. “I know Dominic would love to see you.” The grip he had on her hand tightened painfully, but she just patted his hand. She would make this work if it killed her, and given the amount of silverware on the table, that was a distinct possibility.
“I know Richard and I are planning on coming back, and soon,” Nonna chimed in, looking distinctly pleased with Carlotta’s discomfort. “We’d love to have you show us the city.”
“Absolutely. We have all kinds of museums and malls and monuments. The three ‘m’s!” She laughed and was gratified when Nonna and Richard joined in, though Carlotta looked distinctly like the caprese appetizer they’d had was not agreeing with her in a fundamental way. Nico’s father looked impassive and mellow, like a man who’d long been beaten into submission by marriage was content to go along to get along, functionally mute and unlikely to take a side.
“Maybe you can add that to your impressive list of attributes,” his mother offered acidly. She ticked them off on her fingers, staring up at the fluffy clouds overhead. “Business owner, charlatan, unbaptized heathen—”
“And let’s not forget the most important one,” she interrupted. Nahia’s smile was all teeth, even as Nico gripped her hand to keep her from going across the table. “Nico’s girlfriend. I really want to get to know you better and to be cordial. I’m sorry you don’t want the same, but if you and I are gonna have beef, this is the last time we do it in front of him, because he doesn’t need the grief.”
Her response left Nico choking next to her, and she could tell Nonna hid a laugh behind a very vigorous sneeze. Carlotta though, her reaction was…interesting. Nahia had expected to drive her off with her directness, but instead the older woman looked thoughtful, and if Nahia was feeling especially generous, she might even call it impressed. The conversation died there, but it was peacefully in its sleep over the entrees and not from protracted death throes of vicious verbal barbs.
Over dessert, she caught Nonna’s discerning gaze as it fell over her and Nico. His hand was casually on top of hers on the table, and this simple act somehow attracted her attention. “So, Dominic. You planning on keeping this one? I like her.” she asked as subtle as a piano falling from a third story apartment balcony.
The stunned look and the involuntary tightening of his fingers over hers made her snort as she tried to keep her grin at bay. “Eh, I think we might keep each other, Nonna. Otherwise we’d just get bored.” His grandmother’s laugh and Richard’s raised glass were all the response she got before it was time for Nico to shuffle them on to Indianapolis International for the ride home. Nico’s parents were silent, but didn’t seem as opposed to it as they had been when they’d sat down.
While Nico and his father attended to the valet and his mother and Richard stepped outside to continue enjoying the relatively fresh air, Nahia pulled Nonna aside to a corner of the restaurant lobby where they had a bit more privacy. As soon as they were seated on one of the overstuffed, bright red couches, she opened her satchel and removed the bundle of letters that had been in the rusted cigar box. The box itself hadn’t survived much beyond her opening it, but the letters had been carefully preserved since she’d read through them, and were now in a plastic zipper bag.
“These don’t belong to me,” she started, pressing the large freezer bag into Nonna’s soft, wrinkled hands.
Nonna pulled her glasses from where she’d hidden them in her boobs, and Nahia snickered a little bit to see they were the same style and color as hers. She held up the bag to the light and read the back of an envelope that was visible. “These are the letters that Donna told you about?”
Nahia nodded and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “They are. She told me to give them to you, so that’s what I’m doing. I took care of McManus, so my mission is complete now.”
“Almost,” the older woman replied with a secretive smile.
“Did I miss something?”She didn’t mean to sound alarmed, but considering all she’d gone through up to this point, missing something could have serious consequences.
When Nonna got to her feet, Nahia did the same, and before she knew what had happened, the little old lady who only came up to her shoulder had her in a bear hug that could almost break ribs. “Thank you. For everything.”
“You’re welcome, Nonna,” she wheezed as she struggled for breath around the affectionate embrace.
Nonna pulled away and let her breathe, looking her over with a satisfied grin. “And look after my Dominic. He’s a good man, but he could definitely benefit from having someone to watch out for him.”
Nahia nodded, wrinkling her nose at the prickling of sadness behind her eyes. “Yeah, he’s a keeper.”
Nonna patted her hand with a broad grin and surreptitiously slipped the letters into her purse as Nico and Richard came to collect them. Since they were riding in Nigel’s car again, Nahia had ridden separately, so she wouldn’t be going with them, but back to work.
She offered her hand to Richard instead of a hug, mindful of his British upbringing, and was surprised when he pulled her into an effusive hug. “Dear, it was absolutely lovely to meet you, and you need to come visit us soon.”
“You do!” Nonna agreed, looking between her and Dominic. “We love you both.” She climbed into the back seat of the car with Nico’s parents and Richard in the front. His parents waved politely, but she didn’t expect more than that. After shutting the trunk, Nico came around the car to her.
He looped his armed around her waist and pulled her close, and the sadness that threatened to cause a scene inched even closer to the surface. He tilted her chin up and looked her over seriously. “You gonna be okay?”
She nodded stiffly, doing everything in her power to keep it together. “I’m good. I’m just going to miss them.”
Nico smiled and brushed his lips over hers. “I’m sure they feel the same. You okay getting back to work?”
Her grin at his concern was all dimples. “I’ve got my car, I’m cool.”
He kissed her nose and stepped back. “See you at my place tonight?”
She nodded as she searched through her purse for her sunglasses, chuckling quietly at the eagerness in his voice. She’d been curious about his house on the south side just north of Greenwood, but since his family had been in town, it hadn’t been an option. Now that it was, she was amused at how happy he was to share that part of his life with her. “You cooking for me again?”
He grasped her wrist lightly and pulled her close for another quick kiss before releasing her to step into his car. “I think dinner can be arranged.”
“A girl could get used to that.” She was already moving down the street toward her parking garage.
“I can only hope.”
“I don’t like this tie. I don’t think I’ve ever liked this tie.” He tugged at his neck self-consciously as they waited in the car at the airport by the baggage claim. Nigel had been kind enough to swap cars with them so they could transport everyone comfortably, though she did laugh quite a bit at the image of her dad trying to fold himself origami style into the back of the Nissan.
It took the threat of serious and gratuitous violence to get him to agree to the temporary exchange, and now they sat in his black city-issued sedan. Honestly, she was impressed no one had asked them to move, and Nico had yet to flash his badge.
“Do you like this tie?”
Nahia looked him o
ver with a fond grin. He was perfect in his pressed slate slacks and blindingly white shirt. The tie in question was a sedate silver on black stripe silk creation that he’d worn at least once in the last week and a half. “Nico,” she grabbed his hand, “you look fine. You look as perfect as you always do. It’ll be fine, you’ll see.”
His eyes were large with terror as his grip on her hand tightened. “But they’re your parents! I mean, damn! I don’t know if I’m— what if I’m not what they expect? Did you tell them about me?”
She nodded as she stared out the window at the doors and the baggage claim just beyond before turning to face him and his sudden bout of insecurity. “Eh, don’t worry about it. Really. Are you dressed?”
He nodded tentatively.
“Are you sober?”
He nodded again, this time with more confidence.
“Are you employed?”
He looked askance at her, brows drawing down in suspicion.
“See? Then you’ll be fine.”
“Should I be concerned their standards are so low?” His suspicious gaze moved from her to something behind her.
Nahia turned and saw her mother, all tiny and tanned, in a pair of low-cut, sassy jeans and a white crop top that showed a healthy bit of belly revealing what looked suspiciously like new ink low on her side, towing a large black suitcase on wheels behind her. Her father followed with two more large rolling suitcases, easy to see because of his distinct height and head full of brightly silver hair, also tanned and wearing a black t-shirt and sandals. Sandals! The world may be coming to an end.
With a huge grin on her face, she got out of the car to greet them, running over and covering her mother and father in effusive hugs. Nico’s approach was slower, more measured, letting them have their family moment before he arrived.
“So, this is the mystery man.” Nahia’s mom was nothing if not forthright, and the twinkle in her dark eyes reminded him of both Nahia and his Nonna. She stuck out a hand, “Desdemona Wellington, and my husband, Walt.”
Of course, she was. A beautiful, exotic name for a woman of equal attractiveness. “Lovely to meet you, Mrs. Wellington, Mr. Wellington. Nico Verrazzano, like the bridge.”
Her father’s eyes brightened at the mention. “Oh! You’re from Staten Island! God, I haven’t been back there in years. Verrazano,” he told his wife, “was the first European to sail down the Hudson, even prior to Henry Hudson himself.”
Nico blinked and cast a quick glance at Nahia while slowly shaking her dad’s hand. “Yes, sir. Exactly.”
Nahia snorted and sidled up next to him, her arm around his waist doing wonders to settle down his nerves. “Dad remembers everything he reads. What can ya do?”
“Mr. Wellington, a pleasure. May I get your bags?” he smiled nervously and reached for the handle of one of the rolling monstrosities.
It took a moment to get everyone situated in the car, what with all the bags and everything, but finally, they were on their way back into the county, having retrieved her parents without major incident. A quick glance in the rearview mirror showed Nahia and her mother in the back seat, turned toward each other and talking too quietly to be heard over the road noise.
“So, Nico,” her father started in a tone that had been striking fear into the hearts of prospective and current suitors since the dawn of civilization.
When he didn’t follow it up with anything, Nico’s lips twitched. It was an old interrogational technique, starting off briefly and then going silent, goading the unsuspecting target into filling the silence with speech. He would have been impressed if he hadn’t been so terrified of conversations in confined spaces with his girlfriend’s parents. “Mr. Wellington?”
“Oh please,” Mrs. Wellington scoffed, reaching up to lightly smack the side of her husband’s seat. “Nico, there’s no need to be so formal. Dezi and Walt, please.”
He smiled nervously, suddenly wishing Nahia had been his front seat passenger and not her father, if for no other reason than holding her hand would make him feel a lot calmer about talking to her parents. “Thank you, Dezi.” He met her gaze in the rearview for a moment before looking to her husband. “Walt.”
Her father could stare down a statue, Nico decided, and he knew where Nahia got it. He had to actively work to show no fear. He carried a gun, dammit, and he would not be cowed by his girlfriend’s father, regardless of how much his gaze reminded Nico of Joe Pesci toward the end of ‘Casino’.
“So, Nye tells me you’re a detective.”
“I am. I work Missing Persons with Nigel.” He was saved from elaborating by changing lanes as he moved off 70 onto 465 heading to the north side of town. The traffic was heavy enough during the start of rush hour that his full attention was required. However, as soon as the flow of traffic lessened, he could feel the moment the blistering heat of the spotlight fell firmly back on him.
“I see, so you and Nahia met through work, then.”
The ‘question as statement’ method made him wonder if perhaps her father was more than just a CFO for a pharmaceutical company, like maybe a leg-breaker for the mob. “Kinda?” He didn’t like giving her father a half answer, but he had no idea what she had told her family about her creepy hobby and the larger ramifications. His eyes flickered to Nahia’s amused gaze in the rearview mirror in desperation, immeasurably grateful at her furtive nod.
“‘Kinda’? Was it a case of some type?”
Just when Nico thought that he was going to have to give a full accounting of the last couple weeks, a voice piped up from the back seat, angelic in more ways than one. “See, Pop, funny story. So there I was at work and I get this call from Nigel…”
His ear only half on the conversation as he drove, he listened to her animated recounting of the tale, complete with interim question and answer sessions with her parents. They ‘ooh’ed, ‘ahh’ed, and laughed in all the right places, and when Nico caught her eye at the stoplight at the end of the off ramp, she winked at him.
Though it started off weird, and only proceeded to get weirder, he knew the universe had put him where he needed to be that night. His path was no longer a solo trek, and the journey with his Nahia would never, ever be boring.
Acknowledgements—
This is for Det. Roger Feuquay, who said to me many years ago, “You should write a story about a ghost hunter.” It may have taken close to a decade, but I was listening.
Dead and Disorderly (Behind the Blue Line Series Book 2) Page 24
