Waffles at the Wake

by Addison Moore

  “Fiona Dagmeyer?” Noah muses as he looks to his old stepbrother. “It’s like old home week for you. But then, you’ve probably slept with every female defense attorney, not to mention the hot deputy DAs.”

  “Not true.” Everett lowers his chin. “Not all.”

  “But I’m betting most.” I wink over at him.

  Carlotta snaps her fingers. “Elite Entourage. Now there’s a name we haven’t heard in a while. We need to find a way to get back in their good graces.”

  “We do not need to get into their good graces. They’re glorified prostitutes,” I tell her. “And there might be more juice in the case. I have a feeling Fiona is just getting started. I’ll let you know what I glean.”

  Everett’s eyes grow wild once again. “Lemon,” he says my name so fast it’s alarming. “I’m the judge in the case. And as a juror in my courtroom, I can find a way to silence you.”

  A husky laugh belts from Carlotta as she wags the pickle in my face, and Noah groans at the sight.

  “I’m with Everett.” Noah blows out a breath. “I vote we change the subject. You’ve got a doctor’s appointment later this week, Lot. I’m hoping for another ultrasound. What do you think it is? A boy or a girl? I’m betting you have an inkling.”

  “I think it’s a”—a blonde ditz walking this way catches my attention—“Cormack?”

  “Mmm, no thanks,” Noah says. “Don’t have one of those.”

  Everett takes a breath. “Unfortunately we’re about to.”

  Cormack gives a scrutinizing look to the crowd before she spots us and trots on over in her sky-high heels. Her blonde curls bob like springs over her shoulders, and that short silver dress is refracting the light with all of the charm of a nuclear detonation.

  “Big Boss!” She steals a chair from the table next to us just as a man with a goatee was about to sit in it. “Isn’t this exciting? I just spoke to Lorena Lazzari, and she pointed me right in this direction to hunt down the killer.” She shoots a sour look my way. “I’d tell you who my suspect is, but Lucille here is liable to cramp my criminal stopping style.” She paws at Noah’s arm. “This night has the potential to be downright dangerous. I won’t lie, No-No. I feel a heck of a lot safer now that I know you’re here to make the arrest. We make quite the team, don’t we?”

  “No-No?” I muse as Noah squeezes his eyes shut a moment. I think I prefer Big Boss.

  “Cormack, you’re right.” He sighs. “This night does have the potential to be downright dangerous. And that’s why both you and Lottie need to stay put right here. If anyone questions this guy, it’s going to be me.”

  A squeaking noise emits from her, and judging by the look on her face, she doesn’t plan on staying put for long.

  She glances over to Everett. “Essex.” She frowns. “It’s nice seeing you as always. I suppose you take the same Neanderthal position as your brother.”

  “We’re not brothers,” he’s quick to correct. “And I don’t agree with him on a lot of things, with the exception of this topic.” He looks my way. “Neither of you should be hunting down a dangerous mobster. This guy comes from another state altogether. He’s already on the edge from hanging out in hostile enemy territory. And he’s probably trigger-happy. Things can go sideways pretty darn quick. And if he did kill Flo, he’s not going to look too kindly on anyone who’s looking to turn him in to the sheriff’s department. So for the sake of the three of you—and I’m counting the unwilling participant in all of this, the baby—I implore you not to do it.”

  “Lottie Lemon!” Flo trots over, clip-clopping in her stilettos as if she had to, her dark crunchy hair bobbing back and forth. “I got him, and he’s alone!” She waves me over, and I quickly jump out of my seat.

  “Where is he?” I give a quick look around as she points to a white leather sofa near the back where the pink and blue lights swirl just past the dance floor.

  Both Carlotta and Cormack trot up next to me like a pair of unwanted bookends.

  Carlotta chuckles. “You should have seen the look on Sexy’s face when you bolted right after he gave his trigger-happy speech. Don’t worry. I told him God tests us all in different ways and it takes an unruly woman like you to test a man like him. Foxy’s trying to convince him to leave you by the wayside and to go find a woman he can control with his gavel.”

  I roll my eyes at that one just as Cormack jabs me on the arm with her elbow.

  “There he is on the sofa,” Cormack whispers. “The one with the dark sunglasses and glass of whiskey in his hand. Stay back, Linda. I’m the pro here.” She scoots on ahead, and I yank her back by the wrist.

  “What do you mean you’re the pro?” I snip. “I’m the one with the track record here, not you. I’ve got over two dozen homicide cases under my belt. All you have is the hours your father paid someone to overlook. You and I both know you never put in the time to earn that PI license of yours. You’re dangerous, Cormack. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

  Carlotta nods. “And you can get the rest of us killed, too. Why don’t you go sit in Foxy’s lap and nosh on Romano cheese and prosciutto while Lot Lot dances with the devil?”

  My stomach rumbles at the thought of stepping away from perfectly good Romano and prosciutto, and for a moment it’s like Sofie’s Choice trying to figure out which direction to go in.

  That aura around Flo ignites a fiery shade of red. “Get a move on, Lottie. He’s getting twitchy. I know that greasy smile budding on his lips. He’s getting hungry, and it’s not for prosciutto.”

  She takes me by the hand and pulls me along until I’m seated right next to Nicky Knuckles and those dark shades that hide his sly eyes. He smells nice, thick spiced cologne, his hair is short and spikey, he’s dressed in all white, white jeans, white jean jacket, white shirt peeking out from underneath—and sitting on this white sofa gives him sort of a whiteout appeal. His skin glows a deep shade of olive, and he’s got a thin nose and broad forehead and a greasy grin that suggests he likes what he sees.

  That smile drops from his face out of nowhere. “Whoa.” He pulls up his sunglasses a notch to gawk at my belly. “Whatcha looking for, little mama?”

  Both Cormack and Carlotta fall to the other side of him before I can put in my request for a full confession.

  “Well there,” he says, looking over at Cormack. “Now we’re talking. How are you, honey? Are you working the room tonight?”

  Working the room?

  “Why yes, I am, big boy.” Cormack wastes no time in pulling him in close by way of his lapel.

  Flo grunts, “Lose the slut, Lottie. We’ve got business to conduct. I wanna know why this knucklehead had the nerve to slaughter me at the stroke of midnight.”

  “You and me both,” I whisper. “But believe me, this little slut is harder to lose than a shadow at full noon.”

  A maniacal laugh belts from the specter among us. “Watch and learn.” Flo knocks the whiskey right out of Nicky’s glass and into Cormack’s pretty little elf-like face.

  Cormack lets out a yelp heard around the world as she gasps and gags.

  “How could you!” she riots in his face. “This dress is a Vera Verigamo original!” She hauls off and slaps the poor guy over the cheek. “That was from me.” She hauls off and slaps his other cheek as well. “And that was from Vera!” She bolts from the sofa and heads toward a sign that points to the restrooms, and both Carlotta and I look to Flo in wonder.

  “Where have you been all my life?” I marvel at her.

  Nicky turns my way and holds up his hands. “Look, Mama. I’m into freaky things, but I draw the line when a woman has another man’s mule kicking in her stall.”

  Carlotta chuckles. “Her husband doesn’t mind. There’s a fifty percent chance that little mule she’s housing belongs to her boyfriend.”

  “Geez.” Nicky jerks his head my way. “You’ve got a lot of action going on there. Sounds to me like you’ve got plenty to keep you occupied at home. What are you doing at a place
like this?”

  I look to both Carlotta and Flo for answers, and all they give me are blank stares as if awaiting an answer themselves.

  “It’s my sister’s going away party.” I shudder at the lie. “That woman who just ran off is my sister.” Good grief. I’ve stooped low before in the name of justice, but claiming Cormack as my next of kin makes me feel as if I’m roaming around the bottom in the muck and the slime.

  Nicky ticks his head back a notch. “Where’s she going?”

  “The psych ward,” the words swim from me without hesitation, and Carlotta is right back to chuckling. “A state-run facility—and she leaves tomorrow. She’ll be gone for a very long, long time.” Oh, how I wish.

  “State-run?” He winces as he holds up his empty glass, and one of the glitzy waitresses takes it from him. “That’s some hard time. I can see why she’d want to have a little fun on her last day of freedom.” His lips turn down as he nods in the direction she took off in.

  Flo grunts, “He’s considering it. I’d tell your friend to watch her back if I were you.”

  I make a face. “Don’t mind my sister’s psychotic episode. A little whiskey in the face is how she likes to start her night off. And I’m betting you’re just the guy who can help her finish it. So are you single?”

  Honestly? I really don’t know how to segue from sleep with my insane sister to did you slaughter your girlfriend at midnight?

  The waitress drops off another finger length of whiskey in a cut crystal glass, and he takes a careful sip.

  “I’m single,” he grunts. “Just lost my girlfriend, actually.”

  “Aw, he remembers me.” Flo smacks him along the side of his head—along the exact side I’m closest to—and he jerks back to get a better look at me.

  “Oww, what did you do that for?” He glares at me with a rife look of surprise.

  “I didn’t do anything.” I take a cue from him and glare over at Flo, where the blame truly lies.

  “Wait a minute, hot stuff.” Carlotta holds up a finger, and I do my best to subtly shake my head at her, but she’s not taking her eyes off of him. “I saw you the other night. I knew I recognized these sunglasses. You were at the Chanterelle Hotel the night they shot up that tramp who tried to hit on my boyfriend.”

  “What?” Flo looks as if she’s about to dole out another smack right in Carlotta’s direction this time.

  “Whoa, whoa.” Nicky holds up a hand. “Watch what you say about the deceased. That was Angel Face Flo who ended up eating it that night. And she happened to be my girl. Are you sure she was hitting on your old man?” He squints her way, disbelieving.

  “Darn tootin’, buster.” Carlotta pulls out her phone and quickly pulls up a picture of Harry looking mighty mayoral as he’s waving to a crowd. And oddly enough, in that moment, I think I can see that we share the same smile. “He’s not much to look at, but women love that whole men in power thing.”

  He nods. “Half the chicks that look my way only see my crown.”

  It takes a lot of willpower not to roll my eyes at that one. Of course, the same can be said for Everett, but my stars up in heaven, that man has the face and body to back it. Everett is a deity in his own right. And right about now, he’s probably scouting for a new queen, considering I can’t seem to stop openly defying him. If I’m not careful, I might just end up getting booted out of his courtroom and his life.

  A thought comes to me.

  “Hey”—I gasp as I scoot to the edge of my seat—“I just heard on the news this morning that they stole that girl’s body right out of the morgue.”

  Flo honks out a laugh. “And who says I’m not a genius. If I didn’t have you steal my body, you wouldn’t get nearly as far with this rat as you are.”

  Nicky blows out a steady breath, his jaw redefining itself as he looks straight ahead.

  “Yup.” He swills the whiskey in his hand. “And believe me, I know who did it, too.”

  Carlotta and I exchange a wild glance.

  “You do?” Carlotta tips her ear his way. “Well, don’t keep us in suspense. Where is she?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know where they took her. But I have it on good authority the Lazzaris are responsible. The Canellis wouldn’t disrespect their own that way.”

  Flo belts out a horrifically loud laugh that makes my eardrums wish they could melt already.

  “He thinks the Lazzaris did this?” she honks. “As if. He’s just looking for an excuse to start a turf war.”

  I glare at the ghost among us because the entire reason we kidnapped her corpse was to avoid a turf war to begin with.

  “Don’t worry, ladies.” Flo makes a face. “He ain’t got no proof.”

  “I got proof.” He nods.

  “He’s got proof, Lot.” Carlotta looks genuinely frightened, and I’m betting she just had visions of herself sharing an eight-by-ten cell with a woman named Butch.

  “What kind of proof?” I squint over at this two-bit hustler.

  “Like I said, Angel Face was my girl. Don’t think I wasn’t anticipating any funny business. I had my men across the street keeping an eye out on the morgue all night.”

  Both Carlotta and I suck in as much oxygen as our lungs will allow as we try to stave off the panic.

  Wait a minute…

  “And they saw the Lazzaris carting her off?” I’m willing to call his bluff.

  He shrugs. “They saw a small crowd heading in after hours. Didn’t think too much of it. Thought maybe it was the cleaning crew. A small crowd left hauling away what they thought was a bag of laundry and took off in a sedan.”

  A dull aching sound comes from Carlotta. “Did they get the plates?” She’s fearing for Sexy, I can see it in her eyes. And I’m right there with her. Everett is going to have a heart attack if he ever finds this out. I assured him this was a safe endeavor, and now he’s going to get a bullet pumped into him intended for the Lazzaris. Instead of avoiding a turf war, I’ve landed us right in the middle of one, and ironically, we’ll be sounding the kickoff bell.

  “No plates,” he growls.

  Oh, thank God.

  Carlotta and I nod with a sigh of relief.

  “But we got the make, model, and color.” Nicky knocks back the rest of his whiskey while Carlotta, Flo, and I all let out a groan at the very same time.

  Flo shakes her head with frustration. “Just ask him why he killed me. I’ve had enough of his face for one night.”

  “Why’d you do it? Why’d you gun Angel Face down at midnight?” Carlotta snips at him, and I close my eyes because that is not how you get a suspect to confess. But it just might be how you get a mobster to put a bullet in your back at a club called Delfino’s.

  A laugh rumbles from the man. “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t hurt a hair on that girl’s head. Yeah, she infuriated me. She infuriated everyone all the time. It’s what Flo did.”

  Come to think of it, I did see her arguing with just about everyone that night. And I make a mental note to cross-examine my own witness later—the victim herself.

  “I didn’t pull the trigger, and neither did my men,” he continues. “The Morettis knew Angel Face belonged to me.”

  I don’t bother hiding the eye roll there, but Flo coos as if he just produced a puppy from his pants.

  “Then who did it?” Carlotta persists in her investigative efforts, and I’ll admit, I prefer her to Cormack when it comes to sidekicks.

  “Rocky Romero.” His expression hardens to stone.

  “Rocky?” Flo says, disbelieving. “Rocky still works for my family. Killing me would be a death sentence, not just for himself, but for every living relative he’s got on this earth.”

  Nicky shakes his head. “And don’t think he didn’t cover his tracks by making it look as if it was me. Rocky knows killing Angel Face would be a death sentence, not just for himself, but for every living relative he’s got on earth.”

  “Wow,” I muse. “The two of you really are in sync.”<
br />
  Flo nods. “I could finish his sentences. And I often did with a slap to his face.” She shrugs. “The guy’s mind is always in the gutter.”

  “Rocky Romero?” I shake my head. “That was her ex, right? What motive could he possibly have?”

  Carlotta juts her head forward. “I bet he was controlling. If he couldn’t have her, then no one could.”

  “Nah,” Nicky is quick to contest it. “I heard a rumor yesterday that he knocked her up and didn’t want me raising his kid.”

  Flo gasps. “I never cheated on you! Tell him, Lottie! Tell him right now.”

  Carlotta shrugs. “I talked to Flo that night, and she said she never cheated on you. I bet she’d come back from the grave and give you a rattle if you were to believe something like that.”

  “That’s the thing.” He shrugs. “I don’t believe it. Why would Rocky put a bullet in a woman who was carrying his kid? That’s not Rocky. I think he did it because of what Flo did to him.”

  I turn her way. “What did Flo do to him?” I pose the question directly to her, and she clamps her lips tightly.

  Ah ha! She did do something to Rocky Romero.

  Nicky sucks down the last few droplets of whiskey his glass will allow.

  “That’s not my story to tell. All I know is right now I’ve got a beef with the Lazzaris for stealing my girl’s body and the Canellis for landing her in the morgue to begin with.”

  A snippet from the night of the murder comes back to me, and I glance over at Flo.

  “I saw Flo that night, too,” I say slowly to turn my attention back to Nicky. “She looked afraid of someone. Was she afraid of you?”

  I know for a fact Lorena said he couldn’t hurt her anymore.

  “She was afraid of you, wasn’t she?”

  A dull laugh comes from him. “Angel Face wasn’t afraid of nothin’. That’s why she was my number one. That girl had my ticker right where she wanted it.” He pounds his fist to his chest. “That’s why I couldn’t let go of her no matter what. And I sure as hell wasn’t about to let her walk away from me.”