Dirty Trouble

by J. M. Griffin

  “You mean Mafalda? Yes, she just went to the Ladies’ Room and will be out momentarily. Follow me, will you?” He turned on his well-polished shoes and strode away.

  I followed him down the corridor, past the palm fronded plants, and out of sight of the patrons. Once around the corner, I noticed he waited with dark eyes that glittered in the light. Oh, yeah. He was pissed about something.

  Up close and in my face, he whispered, “What the hell are you doing here? It’s a bad place for you today. You promised you wouldn’t come back after the last time.”

  Surprised, I cocked an eyebrow at him and slid my hand to my hip. “This is a free country, at least the last time I checked anyway. Why shouldn’t I come to this restaurant?” Then it hit me like a Mack truck. This place would likely be the take down spot. After all, hadn’t I waved to the FBI guys the last time I was present? Shit.

  The cop waiter nodded as he watched realization dawn on my face. “Exactly, Vinnie. Get your aunt and your asses out of here now. Hear me? Right now.” He emphasized each word as he whispered it, making sure I got the point.

  The rest room door opened and Muffy emerged just as the Men’s Room door swung wide and Antonio stepped out. Dang, this would happen now, I thought. They stared at each other as Muffy smiled a nasty smile, one that boded ill. I wouldn’t want that look pointed in my direction for anything.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t the asshole of the year.” She reached into her bag and hauled out a small canister of spray.

  I stared, immobile, watching the scene. In one swift movement, she lifted a petite container and sprayed Antonio directly in the face. The smell drifted toward me and Andre dragged me down the corridor away from them. My aunt had just doused Antonio with pepper spray, inside the restaurant no less.

  “What the hell is she doing?” he demanded.

  “Getting even, I think.” I smirked and gave the sixty-something woman silent applause for having the nerve to do it.

  “She has to leave now, and so do you,” he murmured to me. I nodded. Andre headed toward the corridor once more and came back seconds later saying that Muffy had disappeared. Antonio lingered in the bathroom, rinsing his eyes.

  Panic welled up within me and I strode down the corridor to fling the Ladies’ Room door open. No Muffy. Crap. Where had she gone? I couldn’t imagine she’d hang about after she took her revenge. Nuh uh. Muffy was too smart for that.

  My mind raced over the possibilities. Where could I find the short, round troublemaker? Andre and I headed into the kitchen where the chefs were deep in preparation of culinary delights. I stopped to smell the aroma of Italian cooking, but Messino prodded me toward the rear door of the restaurant.

  Once outside, we split up and raced off in different directions. As I turned the corner of the restaurant, I glimpsed a crew of armed and dangerous men wearing SWAT gear, headed for the front door. A swift change of direction took me back the way I came, only to see another crew advance toward the rear of the building.

  In an effort to escape the danger, I hauled ass down the alley and into the nearest tenement house. To my surprise and delight, I found Mafalda sitting on the step inside the door, catching her breath.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked. Maybe I yelled, I’m not sure. Relief flooded my being as I slumped against the wall.

  “I had to escape that man. He swore at me after I sprayed him and then pledged to kill me. The idiot meant it, too. Imagine that?” Muffy’s incredulous face caused me to roll my eyes.

  What the hell did she think would happen? Could she have assumed Antonio would thank her for pepper spraying the shit out of him? I couldn’t believe it, but what concerned me now was finding a safe way out of here.

  I cracked the door open and peered outside. The cops were nowhere to be seen and the alley stood empty. My hand enclosed Muffy’s, and we slid outside. With a furtive glance up and down the filthy lane, we scrambled along the wall of the three-story apartment building. Approaching the street, I straightened my clothes and whispered to Muffy, “Act natural and don’t look around. If we appear guilty of any crime, it will draw attention. Understand?”

  “Okay, Lavinia. I’m sorry that you’re involved in my actions.”

  “It’s okay, Auntie. Just keep moving.” I led her down the street.

  The woman had no idea what I’d seen or that the cops were inside the restaurant arresting everyone and anyone on their list of suspects. Muffy thought life was all about her…but then we all feel that way sometimes.

  At the corner of the street, I caught sight of my parents in front of the church. My father paced back and forth as my mother wrung her hands. When we arrived, Mom lectured Aunt Muffy in Italian. My father stared at them and then turned to me.

  “What happened while we waited for you? I started to worry.”

  “Auntie got carried away with her act of revenge and scared herself silly. Nothing to worry about, Dad.” So I lied. What else could I do? God had my number. When he got tired of forgiving me for lying, then I’d be punished. That’s it. End of story.

  “You’re sure that’s all there is to it, eh? Nothing more you want to tell me?”

  “There’s nothing else to say, Dad. Let’s get out of here and go have something to eat at my house for a change.” The invitation came as a surprise to my father. I guess my mother hadn’t told him.

  Anxious to leave the Hill, we found our cars parked where we left them at the bottom of the lot on a back street near a school. I drove off alone while my family followed at a sedate pace. My father drove, and I’m sure my mother harassed him over his low speed.

  The radio newsman announced the arrest of several high-ranking mob officers in a raid on Federal Hill. He listed those arrested, which included Antonio the businessman, and Marianna. The charges brought against the detainees included racketeering and interstate smuggling of contraband. No big surprise there. Just before the announcer finished his newscast, he mentioned Tony DeGreico was the son of Marianna and was an accomplice to the smuggling ring. Can you beat that? All these years and I never had a clue.

  At the red light outside of Scituate Village, I leaned back and rested my head on the headrest of the car seat. If I could get through the day without any further mishaps I’d consider myself lucky.

  The light changed and my car crept forward through the crowded village toward the house. Pedestrians stepped into the streets without looking and glared when I honked the horn. Ah, festival weekend, a great time for those who live dangerously.

  My parents arrived within a short time and sat in the living room, sipping wine in front of the fireplace. The day lengthened and a chill permeated the air. I bustled around the kitchen and tossed ingredients together for a frittata. Potatoes and eggs melded in the fry pan and smelled heavenly. I added Italian seasoning, salt, and pepper to it before I flipped it over onto the platter set out next to the stove.

  A knock on the door preceded Richmond, who strode in like he owned the place. I smiled as he glanced around.

  “Where’s the pizza?”

  “We’re having a frittata instead. No dessert until later though.” I grinned.

  “Your parents are here, huh?” He chuckled. “I saw their car in the post office parking lot. Where’s Romeo today?”

  “You mean you don’t know?” I whispered.

  “Don’t know what?” Marcus murmured.

  “His team arrested a bunch of hoods on the Hill today while the parade took place. Tony was one of them. Isn’t that great?”

  “What did you have to do with it, Vin? I can tell you were involved up to your gorgeous eyeballs.”

  With a brief explanation of what happened at Da Ravioli, I watched Marcus try to hide the humor he saw in Muffy’s actions. He suddenly laughed aloud as his body shook with mirth.

  “She does get her stockings in a twist, doesn’t she? You saved the day again and didn’t need any help, I assume?” Eyebrows hiked as he spoke.

  A smile hovered arou
nd my lips. I refused to admit that if it hadn’t been for Andre Messino, the undercover cop-turned-waiter, I’d have been out of luck.

  Marcus wandered around the counter and sniffed the steaming omelet while his arms encircled my waist. He nuzzled my neck and my knees went all rubbery. It didn’t matter that my family sat in the front room waiting to eat. I could only think about Marcus as a delicious snack. No calories, just tasty. I leaned back and smiled at the man who raised my body temp with a look and a touch.

  Chapter 26

  The art festival ended for another year, and within a day or two the village returned to normal. Classes at the university resumed with my Two-Point-Fives, flashlight cops, and real Five-Os studying for mid-term exams. Life was good. I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

  The day started out on a late note. I arose to an alarming racket outside the back door. Evergreen meowed. Well, not meowed exactly, maybe more like he yowled. He yowled until I opened the French door and asked what his problem consisted of so early in the day. I knew it had to be a food issue, since he only came by to beg a free meal, kind of like my trooper and FBI agent friends.

  Green eyes narrowed with disdain as if I’d insulted the freeloader. Good gosh, I’d have to claim him on my income taxes next. I fished around in the fridge for some leftovers and tossed a couple chunks of cheese onto the deck to placate him until I could find a more appropriate meal. While he wolfed the cheese down, I filled a dish with remains of the food left from the festival.

  Unable to tell if Evergreen had a taste for pastry, I scraped the chocolate off the éclair into the trash and split the pastry apart on the plate. Yellow cream filling oozed out to cover everything else. I slid the door back and extended the loaded plate to the monstrous beast. He gulped it down in record time and then started his bath routine.

  With a glance at the clock, I realized I would be late for the daily race across the bridge so I hustled into the bedroom for a set of clean clothes. With my hands full of clothing and underwear, I streaked into the bathroom to shower. The blow dryer took most of the moisture from my hair then I scooped it into a loose ponytail.

  Some screeches and wild yowls came from the back yard. Curious to see what happened, I slipped my shoes on and hurried out the door. More noise and a bunch of swearing caught my attention as I followed the sounds.

  “Get off me you hairy monster,” a tall, lanky kid yelled, as he tried to disengage Evergreen from the back of his heavy shirt.

  With folded arms I watched the kid struggle against the ferocious cat. Long claws embedded in the young man’s wool jacket as Evergreen tried to maul him. I noticed crusted-over scratches on his neck and realized this must be the person who committed arson and peeped at me through the bushes.

  “What the heck are you doing out here?” I asked using a Marcus stance.

  His thin body hunched as he attempted to shake off the creature. Fair-haired and light skinned, he wasn’t familiar.

  He stopped his struggle and stared at me for a moment. The cat hung suspended off his coat. The yowling stopped at the sound of my voice.

  “Just lookin’ around, that’s all,” he mumbled.

  “For what?”

  “Just lookin’, I said.” He spoke with more belligerence this time.

  “Did you start the fire here in my garage, young man?”

  Wide eyes turned toward me. “It was an accident, ma’am. Honest, I was too scared to confess. I’m sorry about it. I was here the other day lookin’ to see how bad the damage was when the cat tore into me.”

  “Is that why you shoved me to the ground?”

  “I didn’t and wouldn’t do that. This other guy who drives a beat up old pickup truck did it. Sorry I couldn’t help, but things worked out okay.”

  Ah, Tony. I should’ve known.

  “All right then. Why don’t you come closer and let me get Evergreen off your jacket? Then we can talk about restitution.”

  The gangly kid drew near, and I lifted the cat from his coat, taking great care to release the claws.

  On the ground, Evergreen strutted away as though his job were finished. I smirked at the independent creature and turned back to the kid standing nervously before me. He was sweating profusely and looked ready to run. He also was dressed too lightly for the weather. He shivered….

  “Come inside. It’s cold out here, and I have to get ready for work. I can only spare a few minutes, but we need to discuss your actions.” I grasped his arm and led him into the kitchen, and made a quick call to Margy Gluck, the Secretary of All and Everything, to have someone fill in until I could get to class.

  His blue eyes roamed the room as he smoothed down his wind-tossed locks of hair. The kid appeared awestruck and I wondered why. The house and furnishings weren’t exactly from a designer magazine.

  “Nice place you got,” he said.

  “Do you want something to eat or drink?” There’s that Italian hospitality thing again. I would be late for class at this rate.

  “If it isn’t too much to ask, yeah.”

  I poured him some juice and whipped up some toast. I was handing him the butter and jelly when the sound of footsteps on the stairs caught my attention. I figured Aaron had seen the whole incident from his deck and couldn’t contain his curiosity.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Eric Strom.”

  “Well, Eric Strom, eat up and tell me how you think we can work out a deal to fix the garage.”

  Round blue eyes widened. I figured the kid’s age to be around fifteen or sixteen years old and it was obvious to me that he had no money. His clothes weren’t quality, and his jacket had frayed edges which meant he probably wore hand-me-downs, or the clothes were just plain old.

  “Ma’am, I don’t have any money to repay you for the damage.”

  A knock sounded at the door. I strode forward and opened it. Aaron stood outside, concern evident on his features.

  “Not now,” I said. “Come back later, okay?”

  “Sure.” Aaron nodded.

  The door slid shut and I heard the feet move back in the direction from which they came. A smile twitched across my lips at the thought of his protectiveness.

  “Eric, it occurred to me just now that maybe the builder, who will start work on the garage within the next few days, could use a hand with the job. If you’re willing to help him out, then we can call it even. What do you say?”

  “You mean you won’t call the cops?” Eric’s eyes rounded again.

  Being the softhearted dummy I am, this kid got to me. I nodded and he actually smiled.

  “Sure, I can do that. As long as you don’t call the cops.”

  “Great, then we have a deal. I’ll give you the phone number and you call him. Explain that I want you to help him out and he can call me to confirm it. All right?”

  “Sure, ma’am. I’ll call him right away.”

  “Call me Vinnie, please. Also, tell me how the fire started.”

  “I was smoking out back. The wind blew the ash and it caught the evergreen tree. From there it burst into flames. The trees are pretty dry and dead back there and should be cut down. I could do that for ya.”

  “Sure thing. Let’s get the garage done first, though. If you want to earn some extra money, I can keep you busy with a few odds and ends around here.”

  “Great, ma’am. I mean, Vinnie.”

  “We’ll keep the garage incident between us. There’s no need for anyone else to know about it. You can work with the builder after school. Is that fair enough?”

  His smile lit up the thin face, and I realized the kid probably hadn’t had much of a break in his life. Some of us only think we have it tough, I thought, as my father’s lectures came to mind.

  Eric Strom left the house with a smile on his face and maybe a sense of relief as well. My book bag lay on the counter, the contents strewn about when the door opened and Aaron strode inside. He leaned against the door casing and stared at me.

  “That kid set
fire to the garage, huh?”

  “Yeah, but it was an accident. He seems a good kid and has agreed to assist the builder.”

  “You’re sure this is how you want to handle the situation?”

  “Yeah, he showed remorse and has an aversion to the police. So, yes, I do want to handle it this way.”

  A wide grin crossed his handsome face as the huge man stepped forward. He kissed my cheek and said, “Good, I’m glad you’re willing to give him a break.”

  “I didn’t tell him you’re an FBI agent either.” I chuckled, and he did, too.

  “By the way, were you on Federal Hill the other day? Some of my guys thought they saw you enter Da Ravioli. You did promise to stay away, didn’t you?”

  “It must have been someone else.” I lied with my fingers and toes crossed.

  “Mmm, I’m sure.” He smiled good-naturedly.

  Nah, he didn’t believe me, and who could blame him? I chuckled at the handsome brute, gave him a peck on his cheek, and dragged my bag off the counter. Then I headed out to teach cops how to be cops.

  Author’s Biography

  J.M. Griffin is a student of the human condition, wielding the written craft to stimulate the imagination much like she wields her paint brush. The pages are a blank canvas on which J.M. draws vivid characters. Other titles featuring the intrepid sleuth Lavinia (Vinnie) Esposito include For Love of Livvy and Dead Wrong. J.M. lives in rural Rhode Island, a state she considers colorful and interesting.