Dirty Trouble

by J. M. Griffin

  A hand touched my shoulder and I jumped. My fingers curled into a fist before I turned around. Checking myself, I tried to soften what must have been a nasty glare, with a smile.

  The dark eyes of Dario Ramirez widened as he stepped back. Obviously unsure of his welcome, he still grinned at me and then walked alongside me as we headed to the classroom.

  “Having a bad day, teach?” he uttered with a smirk.

  An undercover cop, he always played the part. I figure he didn’t know how not to. Some life, I thought.

  “Yeah, I’m running a bit late. Looks like you are, too.” I took in the coffee colored skin and black hair curling around Dario’s collar.

  “Nah, I just stepped outside for a smoke. You know how it is – rules and all that.” He grinned and nodded toward another student as she passed us in the corridor.

  I chuckled and said, “She’s too young for you, so knock it off, Ramirez.”

  “That’s the truth. These kids get younger and younger every year. Or maybe I’m getting older and older. What do you think, teach?”

  “Either way, she’s still too young for you. I’ll bet she’s just eighteen.”

  We’d entered the room. I slung the book bag onto the desk and then shook the rain from my jacket as I peeled it off. Damp was the day, and so were my clothes.

  Ramirez grinned and took a seat. He slid down and stretched his legs out in an uninterested manner. I knew his routine was part of his act. He glanced around the room and then at me. Four other students entered behind us. I unloaded the sheets of paper for fingerprinting instruction.

  Each table held the tools needed for fingerprint identification. The students would ‘buddy up’ and share their workload and findings. They’d learn how to obtain fingerprints and then identify the matching points using computers geared to their needs.

  I’d always taught the class to start from scratch, the old way. But with the computer technology available, we’d stepped into the now instead of the then. Some departments still used the old way of doing things. Crime labs were stepping into the future, and I figured these people deserved to be familiar with the latest equipment available to them.

  This particular class was smaller than usual. I’d lost several students who were pulled due to work schedules. The atmosphere remained charged with egos, and every now and then a smart remark would ignite an argument between departments. Whether they were cops, Two-Point-Fives, or wannabes, these people were highly competitive.

  Paired up, everyone had a partner except for Porter Anderson. I’d singled him out since he would be the one to work on my note card. If there were any prints, he’d find them. Ramirez watched as I took Anderson aside with a nod of my head. When I glanced at Dario, he grinned and turned back to his partner.

  After I explained what they needed to do, I demonstrated the use of the powder and brush to get the print to come forward. Then I lifted it from the surface, using common Magic Tape. Keeping it simple is always best. Everyone started to work on separate sets of prints while I wandered over to Porter, the wrapped note card in my hand.

  I leaned toward him and softened my voice. “Porter, I need a favor,” I said.

  “What is it, Vinnie?” Grey eyes searched mine and then rested on the note card I slid forward.

  “Print this card and envelope to see if anything comes up. Then run it through the system. Keep this to yourself, will you?”

  “Sure. Don’t want Richmond or Grant to know what you’re up to?” He grinned.

  “Exactly. They just worry for nothing.”

  “Yeah, right. By the way, I heard you lunched at Da Ravioli with the mob.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “A little bird. Don’t go there again, Vin. It isn’t a smart idea right now.”

  “So I’m told,” I said. “I’ll take your advice into consideration.”

  Anderson nodded and started to dust the paper. His technique was excellent, and I knew he’d done this before. Why he took the class was a question I couldn’t answer.

  Wandering around the room, I assisted the students, answered questions, and took some ribbing about my driving skills. News of the car accident made the rounds within the various departments and was stretched to unrecognizable proportions. Around eleven thirty, we broke for lunch and everyone headed to the dining hall for a quick bite to eat.

  The jingling of my cell phone caught my attention as the last person left the room. Rummaging in my purse, I pulled out the small unit and flipped it open.

  “Lavinia,” my mother murmured into the phone. “He’s here again today. Antonio, the businessman is at the seniors’ center. I don’t understand what he’s doing here.”

  I rolled my eyes and gave a mental head slap as I took a deep breath.

  “Mom, what do you want me to do about it?” I asked. Hello, I’m only human. No miracles available today, for sure.

  “Well, dear, I just thought you should know. It can’t be a coincidence that he’s at this same center again today. Do you think he’s looking for Mafalda?”

  “Don’t even tell me she’s hanging out with him again, Mom. I’ll wring her neck after what she put me through with court and all. She’s not there, is she?”

  “No, when she saw him come in, she hid from sight. You don’t think something bad will happen, do you, dear?”

  “No, Mom, I don’t. Look, I have to go now, but I’ll call you later, okay?” Anything to get her off the phone. I adore my mother, but sometimes she amazes me. What could I do about Antonio? Nothing. That’s what. Cripes.

  She disconnected the call. I tossed the phone back into my purse in disgust. The apple I crammed into the bag this morning rolled out through the dusting powder and across the table. I grasped the fruit and tossed it into the trash as Marcus stepped through the door.

  Dark powder smeared my hands as I slapped them together, hoping to rid them of the mess. Marcus took some towels from the paper holder and handed them to me with a grin.

  “Here, try these.” He chuckled and shook his head.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Just making sure you made it all right this morning. The governor no longer needs me, so I’m on patrol. It’s a good excuse to stop by and see you at work.” Marcus prowled the room and glanced at the progress of everyone. When he reached Anderson’s table, he looked at me with questioning eyes.

  “Why is this person working on a different project when everyone else’s work is the same?”

  “His is a special project. This guy is way ahead of the others. I think he took the class just to get out of work.” I lied. I had to.

  A nod of his hat kept me from seeing the expression on his face. He lifted the pincers and plucked the paper from the table. Turning it over, he read the message inside. His eyes traveled upward and he glared at me.

  “You got this note and didn’t give it to me? What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Now, Marcus, don’t get angry. I wanted to spare you the anguish of worrying about me. Besides, I figured that Porter could do this and we’d run it through the system at PPD. The Providence department has great resources and I’d know who sent the miserable thing.”

  “The state police have great resources, too, Vin. In case you’ve forgotten that,” he said, his voice on the rise.

  “I’m not discussing this with you right now. By the way, did you know that Aaron was engaged to someone named Lou Anne?” How’s that for a change of subject?

  “We’ll discuss the fingerprints later. I promise.” He glared at me but laid the card back onto the table. “No, I’m unaware of Aaron’s romantic status. How did you find out?”

  “When I went with the contractor yesterday, he told me.”

  “How does the guy know about Aaron?”

  It was clear that I pressed his patience as he folded his arms across his chest and took his usual stance.

  “Well, he’s kind of a friend of a relative to the not-bride-to-be,” I said.
r />   Skeptical, Marcus slanted a glare at me. At least, it looked like skepticism.

  “And this means what?” he asked on a sigh.

  Yep, he was skeptical all right. Annoyed too from the looks of it.

  I rarely let that get in my way though, so I said, “Umm, when I met some of Aaron’s acquaintances once last summer, they said it was good that he decided to move on with his life. He’d laughed and said he was just moving in, into a new place. Later he confided he’d been injured on the job and had told his friends he’d given up working for the FBI. They’d been relieved when he said he’d gone to work for the Gaming Commission. It’s only a cover, though. Jesse said Aaron met Lou Anne at the Gaming Commission and that they were engaged.”

  “Odd that he’s never mentioned it. Are they still involved?”

  “Not according to Crane,” I said. “He was vague about where she is now, but he said I needn’t worry about being bothered by her. ‘The engagement was made in hell,’ he said.”

  Interest filtered across Marcus’s face. I could tell by the gleam in his eyes that he’d entered the ‘dog with a bone’ stage. Guys are worse than women when it comes to gossip. I thought my need to know was bad, but most men have it much worse than I do.

  “I’ll see what I can find out. In the meantime, stay out of this, and when you finish fingerprinting that item,” Marcus pointed to the letter, “I want it. Understand?”

  “Yes, I understand.” After all, he spoke English.

  “In the future, it would be helpful if you’d cooperate with me instead of hiding evidence, Vinnie.”

  “Right.” I checked my watch as a couple of cops wandered back into the room.

  Curiosity over Richmond’s presence was evident, but I refused to indulge the students. He nodded to them and they returned the same as he left the room. It’s a cop thing, that’s all I know. Respect for the badge and all that stuff.

  * * * *

  The day grew to a close. So far, nothing was visible on the note card. It was too much to hope for, but I’d hoped anyway. After the tables and the supplies were cleared up, everyone left the classroom. Ramirez stayed behind and walked me to the car.

  “Was that the man in your life, Vin?” he asked with a grin.

  “Yeah, sometimes he is. Why? What’s it to ya, Ramirez?”

  “Nothing, I just wondered. Did he pitch a fit when he saw Anderson at work on your special project?”

  “How do you know Anderson’s got a special project?” I asked, ignoring the rest of the question. Duh? How stupid did I think these people were? Not stupid at all.

  “It doesn’t take a genius to know that Anderson is way beyond this class. He knows what he’s doing and is probably here to keep an eye on you. You do have a lot of mishaps, Vinnie.”

  “You may be right. I thought he took the class to get out of working. Foolish, huh?”

  “No, just naïve, that’s all.” Dario grinned.

  With that, he left me at the car and headed toward a pickup truck parked a few slots away. I watched as he roared past and I contemplated his words. Maybe he was right and Anderson was protecting me. Another man who thought I needed protection. Ugh. I started the car and drove off.

  En Croute, the most fantastic bakery in Rhode Island, is located on Federal Hill. The small shop resides next door to a social club rumored to be inhabited by thugs, bone breakers, number runners, and other deadly dudes that supposedly work for the mob. If I were asked to swear to that statement, I’d have to plead out. I have no knowledge of anyone who socializes there and don’t want to know either. But the bakery, well it makes the trials of traffic and danger on the Hill so very worthwhile.

  The Altima eased into a parking spot, the one and only spot I could find on the street outside the social club. I snuggled the car up to the curb and hoped nobody peeked out the windows. Scooting from the car into the bakery, I stood just inside the door. The sweet smell of whipped cream, sugar, and fresh baked pastries hung in the air. It was heavenly and my waistline grew without so much as a taste of the succulent delights stored in the glass cases.

  Marianna Patroni stepped to the counter. With her hand on her ample hip, she said, “What’ll it be, Vinnie?”

  Now Marianna is a big woman. Not just big, she’s huge. Her breasts hang in front of a wide girth, and she needed a B-52 ‘silver bullet’ bra to hold them up. Marianna’s demeanor was always harsh, but I suspected a heart beat inside the broad-chested, square-shouldered woman. Gray hair and large hands that were red from too much washing, were the two other things one noticed first about Marianna.

  She had a crush on my father when they were young and she still had a soft spot for him. Her musings over the old times filled me with curiosity for a time I’d never know. As well it raised questions about what my father was like in those days – certainly not the same man he was today.

  “I’m here for pastry. With guests coming this weekend, I need to feed them something spectacular.”

  Hearty laughter filled the small bakery, and she slid trays of wrapped Italian cookies, rich pastries, and baklava toward me.

  “Your father called today and said you’d need these for the weekend. Wait here, I have more out back for you.”

  Incredulous, I stood in silence for a moment. The bell jingled over the door as someone stepped inside. Without thinking, I turned to see who waited behind me. Two huge brutes stood in the doorway, hands clasped in front of their expensive-looking overcoats. Man, this was bad, I thought, and gulped. Aside from these two stood another man in a rich tan cashmere overcoat. He stepped forward and whispered in my ear. My gut tightened and I froze in place. Fear riddled my senses as I listened to his words.

  “Lavinia, you shouldn’t be here. Get your stuff and leave, understand?”

  “Yes sir, I-I do, and I w-will,” I stammered, sweat breaking out under my armpits.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the ham hocks that passed for the hands of the two ‘enforcers.’ God knows I nearly shit myself from fear right there in the bakery. The two men had shoulders as wide as refrigerators, and from the looks of their faces they’d taken one punch too many. Cold flat eyes stared at me, and my stomach curled into itself. Oh, yeah, I was leaving, uh huh. No problem.

  “Your father asked that I make sure you were unharmed when you came by. I can only do that once, so make this the only trip here, will you?”

  I nodded, dumbfounded that my father not only anticipated my stop, but he’d ordered the pastry and requested protection by the mob – from the mob. Good grief, what the hell was going on? And where did Gino Esposito get that power, I might ask? I intended to find out.

  From the back room, I heard the clatter of pans and raised voices speaking Italian. Marianna strode through the door laden with a wide box of delicacies – my name was scrawled across the plastic wrap. I paid her an unholy sum of money and proceeded to gather my packages. The two thugs stepped forward, took them from me and handled the box as well. After bidding Marianna farewell, I hustled through the door and to the car as fast as my feet would carry me.

  The trunk sprang open, and while I considered what ghastly thing I might find stuffed inside, I found it was devoid of anything. The packages were transferred to the space and the trunk lid closed. The threesome nodded and waited for me to leave. I sped down De Pasquale Avenue, hooked a turn onto the highway, and raced home. My shaking parts quieted a bit more with each passing mile.

  With the sweets packed into the fridge, I warmed up leftovers and settled in the living room to eat. I’d scooped the mail from the post office before coming in to roost, and flipped through the envelopes while I ate. There weren’t any earth shattering messages, so I pulled the newspaper open and caught up on local happenings. I just finished supper when a rap sounded on the door. Folding the newspaper, I tossed it aside and answered the summons.

  Muffy stood in the hallway. I stared at her, my mouth gaping open. What could she want? Why was she here? I deserved this how?

 
; “Come in, Auntie,” I said. “Can I get you something?”

  “Just some coffee, if you will.” Plainly, something was on her mind.

  While the fresh brew perked I put two cups, milk, and sugar on the counter. Auntie hiked her short stature onto the stool across from me. Her legs dangled from the stool like she lived in the land of the little people. Suddenly she opened her mouth.

  “Your mother and I were at the seniors’ center today. Antonio came in while I was there. I hid in the closet of the office since I couldn’t get out the door without him seeing me.” She stopped, took a deep breath, and then glanced at me.

  The coffee was ready and I poured two cups. I slid one toward Muffy and added milk and sugar to mine while I waited for her to continue. Surprise topped my list of reactions. Not only for her showing up on my doorstep, but for the fact that she’d tell me about Antonio.

  “Is this a bad time, Lavinia? I can leave if it is.”

  “No, not at all, Auntie. Just go ahead and tell me what happened.” How did I get stuck with this shit?

  “I wanted to avoid him after he left me at the mercy of the cops and now that he’s in so much trouble. Anyway, I hid in the office closet before he entered the room. He sat at the desk and rummaged through the books like he owned the place. I could see him through the crack of the door. It wasn’t closed completely.” She sipped her black coffee.

  “What happened then?” I asked.

  The man with him closed the door to the office and then shut the closet door tight. I couldn’t see, but I could hear. You know how the Ciano’s have excellent hearing.”

  Yeah, I knew. My mother could hear a fly buzzing at two hundred yards. That hearing got Gio and me in a lot of jams as kids. She would hear us conspiring and nip our plans in the bud. We’d become more adroit in keeping our schemes secret after that.

  “Uh huh, then what happened?”

  “I heard him tell the man to pick up the bag and take it to the bank for deposit. A woman entered the room and he said the laundry was done for now. I know it was a woman because she answered him with a smart-ass remark and he got mean about her attitude.”