by Mary Ellis
Eric waited for the detective to drive away before heading to his office, but he didn’t get far.
‘Hold up there, Enrique. We need to talk.’ Nonni stepped from behind the huge bougainvillea and hobbled across the flagstones with her cane.
‘How long have you been eavesdropping behind that potted plant?’ he demanded.
‘From the moment that cop turned into the driveway I sniffed trouble. I knew he wasn’t with the construction crew – those men all drive pickups,’ she added with a grin.
‘Well, don’t worry about Dad. I already knew about the photo of Dominic. The detective was just fishing and hoping I would bite.’
‘That’s not why I’m coming to talk to you. I have new information, but I prefer to wait until your secret agent gets home from the hospital. I don’t want to chew my food twice.’
‘How did you know Jill was— never mind, I know how. And she’s a private investigator, not a secret agent.’
‘What’s the difference?’ His grandmother lowered herself into a chair.
Eric held up his palms. ‘Nothing, but I need to work in my office. Why don’t you wait for Jill and have her come get me later?’
‘Hold up there, nipote.’ Nonni bobbed her head toward the employee parking area. Jill’s Toyota just pulled into its usual spot. ‘Speak of the angel now,’ Nonni added once Jill was close enough to hear.
‘Hi, Eric.’ Jill smiled at him. ‘Were you referring to me as an angel, Nonni? Wait until you know me better.’
‘No need to. I’m a good judge of character. Sit down, young lady.’
‘First, let’s ask what happened with Emma Norris today,’ Eric said.
‘She was a perfect match!’ Jill clapped her hands. ‘Surgeons are actually harvesting part of her liver now. I just came home to grab a quick shower and change clothes before going back. I was so nervous this morning, I’m afraid to stand too close to anyone.’
‘Ach, you smell fine. It’s Enrique who needs a shower.’
Jill studied his appearance and burst out laughing. ‘Hard day at the construction site?’
‘You could say that.’ Eric rolled his eyes. ‘OK, Nonni. Why don’t you tell Jill your news so she can return to the hospital? We don’t want to hold her up.’
‘Does your news have something to do with why you’re wearing a hat and Sunday dress on a Thursday?’ Jill grinned at his grandmother.
‘It does. You are one observant secret agent!’ Nonni slapped her palm on the table. ‘Men never notice that kind of thing.’
‘You do look very nice,’ Eric said, mildly chastised.
‘After what I overheard in the garden last night, I asked my best friend to have lunch with me. We usually go to Magnolias. You know, sort of neutral ground halfway between Bella Trattoria and Tuscan Gardens. And we always dress to the nines, like all women used to.’
Jill patted her hand. ‘That’s because you and your best friend have class.’
His grandmother’s face glowed. ‘I knew you and Enrique would have trouble finding anything out about Dominic. The Borellis have an expensive lawyer on retainer to keep bad publicity out of the newspaper. And none of them would start blabbing to a Mississippi investigator, no matter how pretty she was. Although Renaldo would still probably ask you out.’ Nonni shook her finger at Eric. ‘That Renny is a gutsy guy.’
Jill’s gaze rotated between Eric and his grandmother. ‘Thanks for the compliment, but there’s so much going on under the surface, someone had better hand me a paddle. Who is your best friend, Nonni?’
Eric supplied the explanation. ‘That would be Francesca Borelli, mother of Salvatore and grandmother of Dominic. Things getting a bit clearer?’
‘Somewhat. Go on, Nonni. What did you find out?’
‘Salvatore had reached the end of his rope with two of his three sons. Dominic refuses to do his fair share of work around the restaurant, yet still expects to get paid twice a month. He stays out all night with his friends and then sleeps half the day away. And he’s had too many run-ins with the law to suit Papa Borelli.’
‘And Salvatore didn’t even know about Dom’s handiwork in the alley.’ Eric noticed light reflecting off Jill’s hair. For someone in need of a shower, her hair still looked shiny.
‘What about the third son? What did he do?’ Jill asked.
‘John turned out to be the biggest heartbreak of all. He promised to come home when he finished college. But after John graduated from USC, he stuck around to get his Master’s Degree and then stayed in Columbia permanently. He’s an executive at some big advertising agency.’ Nonni sighed as though she shared her friend’s sorrows.
Jill’s forehead furrowed with confusion. ‘Sounds like John is doing well for himself. What’s the problem – did he shame the family by marrying a Yankee?’ She giggled.
‘This is no laughing matter, Jill. John promised to join the family business in Charleston. With Dominic a wastrel, the Borellis need John to come home. Salvatore wants to retire and Renaldo can’t do all the work alone. So far, none of the sons have married. Francesca is broken-hearted over no grandchildren. Of course, all I have is one!’ Again, Nonni sent Eric a peeved look.
Eric crossed his arms. ‘You must forgive our family, Jill. The Manfredis never tell a story without peppering it liberally with personal asides. Soon you’ll need a shovel, not a paddle.’
‘Shush, grandson, I’m just getting to the good part.’ Nonni smacked Eric’s arm with her Chinese fan. ‘Everything that I’ve explained is old news, Jill. I just wanted you to understand the Borellis. Now, should we wait until tonight to hear the rest, after Mrs Norris gets out of surgery and Eric changes his disrespectful attitude?’
Jill impulsively threw her arms around the older woman. ‘Oh, no, I can’t wait that long. I’ll make sure Eric behaves.’
‘I beg your pardon, ma’am.’ He bowed from the waist. ‘Please continue.’
Nonni sniffed. ‘Very well. During dessert, I asked Francesca for the latest news. She said that Salvatore was so angry he told the family he was changing his will and leaving the restaurant to Renny, his oldest and favorite son. Salvatore said this in front of Dominic.’
Eric straightened in his chair. ‘That should cause some trouble.’
‘Of course it did. Dominic argued with his brother and said some ugly things to his father. Then he stormed out of the house.’
‘Who would have inherited the restaurant before the change?’ Jill asked. ‘Salvatore’s wife?’
‘Sofia?’ Nonni cackled. ‘Over Francesca’s dead body! Her daughter-in-law doesn’t do much more around Tuscan Gardens than Dominic. Sofia spends her days at the mall, or the nail salon, or getting spa treatments. Although nothing seems to improve her sour disposition.’
Eric shifted in his chair but forced himself to keep quiet.
‘All three sons were supposed to own the restaurant together after Salvatore passed. You can see why he wanted John home from Columbia and Dom to finally grow up. What a disaster that would have been.’
Pulling a pen and notebook from her purse, Jill jotted notes furiously. ‘Do you believe Mr Borelli was serious about leaving everything to Renaldo?’
‘You bet I do. Francesca said Salvatore had an appointment with his lawyer the next day after he died.’ Nonni’s grin was nothing but smug. ‘Since he hadn’t made a new will, the old one will be sent to probate court. And all three boys will get equal shares. Dominic has already said he wants to sell the place. It might not take too much convincing to get John to go along with him. Francesca is in for more heartache.’ Nonni clucked her tongue.
Eric and Jill locked eyes. ‘And we have another murder suspect,’ she said.
‘Thank you, Nonni. Jill and I are in your debt.’
‘You’re welcome, Enrique. Does this make me a secret agent too?’
Jill nodded. ‘We’ll get you an official membership card, along with a pen with disappearing ink. But right now I need to jump in the shower.’
‘I’d rather have an umbrella that shoots poisoned darts,’ said Nonni.
‘I’ll check the internet.’ Eric kissed his grandmother’s papery cheek. ‘Jill,’ he hollered after her, ‘should I pick you up here to go to my sister’s tomorrow, say around seven? After all, this will be very close to an official date.’
‘Seven would be perfect. I’ll be tied up at the hospital until then.’ Jill vanished into the restaurant.
‘You’re taking Jill to Bernadette’s?’
‘I am. Do you approve? Are you happy now?’ Eric helped Nonni to her feet.
She shifted her weight from his arm on to her cane. ‘I approve, but it’s only a start. I won’t be happy until Danielle has a few first cousins and I have more grandchildren than one.’
SIXTEEN
Jill returned to the hospital and spent most of Thursday night with Ralph Norris and his children while surgeons harvested part of Emma’s liver. Finally, Brenda and Dr Costa joined them in the family area with the news that Emma had come through the surgery splendidly.
‘Praise the Lord,’ murmured several women. They had come from their Sumter church to sit with Ralph.
‘Outstanding!’ said Jill, unable to sit there and say nothing after such news.
Ralph wiped his brow with his sleeve. ‘Can I see her?’
Dr Costa placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Not quite yet. Your wife will remain under close observation for the next several hours. You can see her once she’s moved to a room. She will remain in the hospital for a few days. At this point, Emma’s vital signs are strong and every indicator points to a successful organ donation.’
‘What happens next?’ Jill asked.
‘A second team of surgeons and assistants will transplant the liver into Mrs Sugarman. She’s being prepped right now. We have no time to lose.’
‘What should me and the kids do now?’ Bewildered, Ralph Norris twisted the brim of his ball cap.
Dr Costa placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. ‘Go to your hotel and rest for say … five or six hours. Then come back. If your wife wakes up before that, Brenda will call you. The hard part is behind us, Mr Norris. Try not to worry.’
When the tired-looking doctor walked away, Jill turned to Mr Norris. ‘Would you like me to come back to the hotel with you and the kids? Maybe I can fix them something to eat?’
‘No, thanks, Miss Wyatt. I promised them McDonald’s when we left here. So that’s what we’ll have.’
‘All right, I’ll see you later.’
Jill returned to Bella Trattoria in the middle of the night, stripped off her clothes and fell into bed. She slept soundly for seven dreamless hours and awoke to the sound of hammers, saws, and a radio tuned to a rap music station. It was a good thing Eric’s construction crew was at work early or she might have slept through her client’s surgery and broken a promise. Jill had given her word to little Joan Sugarman that she would keep her daddy company today. Jill stepped over several extension cords and around a pile of 2×4s on her way out, but there was a bigger distraction waiting in the courtyard.
Eric Manfredi, dressed in jeans and a torn sleeveless T-shirt, was pulling new cabinets from their shipping crates. As fate would have it, Eric turned around just as Jill stopped in her tracks to gape. It’s not like she’d never seen bulging biceps or tight stomach muscles before. Jill just never saw them on a man she had a date with that night.
‘Good morning, Jill. I’ll be right with you.’ Eric reached for a flannel shirt hanging on a sawhorse.
‘Oh, no, don’t bother with that. I need to get to the hospital.’
‘All right then, see you tonight.’ Eric dropped the shirt and continued unpacking cabinets, while Jill fled to her car feeling foolish.
Every construction worker inside the kitchen had been dressed the same way. Yet she’d paid no attention to them. Is that what attraction did – made a person feel like a teenager with a crush?
Jill found David Sugarman in the waiting room with dark smudges under his eyes and in a shirt with more wrinkles than a Shar-Pei. Although his children were staying with their aunt during the procedure, David hadn’t left the hospital in twenty-four hours. ‘I’m back, Mr Sugarman, if you would like to go home for a while. Dr Costa said the surgery can take up to twelve hours.’
He shook his head. ‘No, thank you. I want to stay right here until Charlotte’s condition is stable.’
According to the medical assistant, it could be days before Charlotte was fully out of the woods, considering her weakened state. ‘Would you like me to get you something to eat?’ she asked.
‘No, I ate a couple donuts and almost threw up.’ He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. ‘I’m fine, Miss Wyatt. Don’t worry about me.’
Since her client wasn’t interested in small talk, Jill read her book, walked the halls, drank two cups of coffee, and repeated the entire sequence a second time. Finally Dr Costa joined them in the waiting room, looking even more fatigued than before.
‘I thought you had gone home, Doc,’ Jill blurted as David flashed a look of annoyance.
‘After the second team of doctors took over, I’ve been observing in the gallery. So far so good, Mr Sugarman. They removed Charlotte’s diseased liver and the surgical team transplanted the donor liver into your wife. Now all the blood vessels and bile ducts must be reconnected, which is a painstakingly slow process. I’m on my way home, but Dr Ajuga will answer any of your questions once he finishes surgery.’
David stepped in his path. ‘Any idea how long before I can take Charlotte home? She’s been in the hospital so long already.’
Costa swept the white cap from his head. ‘Hard to say; ten to twelve days at a minimum. Even with immunosuppressant drugs, rejection remains a possibility. But we’ll do all we can for your wife.’ The doctor strode away with far less spring in his step than he had yesterday.
David glanced at his watch. ‘It’ll probably be a couple more hours yet, Jill, but there’s no reason for you to hang around.’
‘Oh, I don’t mind, sir. Maybe we can get a cup of coffee or go to that chapel and say a few prayers.’
‘Frankly, I hate coffee and my wife prays enough for both of us. Don’t take this wrong, but your pacing back and forth makes me nervous.’
How could anyone take that wrong? ‘Sure, just make sure you call me when Charlotte reaches the recovery room.’
All the way home Jill tried to figure out what Charlotte could have seen in David to want to marry him. It certainly wasn’t his boyish good looks or his aloof, cold-as-a-dead-fish personality. At least thinking about the Sugarmans kept her mind off the dinner with Eric Manfredi.
After another shower, Jill dressed in a pale green sheath with high-heeled sandals. She coiled her hair at the nape of her neck and let a few tendrils frame her face. Makeup had always been a challenge. Growing up in Florida, heat and humidity melted most face paint away if you planned anything outdoors. So Jill dabbed some bronze shadow on her lids, more bronzer on her cheeks to make up for the fact she’d had little sun-time, and added a deep coral lipstick. Tonight she wanted to look special – or at least like she’d made an effort.
Eric was waiting downstairs in the courtyard. Apparently it had become his domain too since the kitchen was in disarray. This time the man was fully dressed, yet Jill still found herself unnerved by his appearance. Black slacks, white silky shirt open at the neck, and a soft grey sport coat. Maybe it was the Italian leather loafers, or the expensive cut to his longish, wavy hair. But more likely Jill was unnerved by his cool, collected demeanor, as though whether on vacation at Lake Como or dinner at his sister’s, Eric Manfredi was the man of the hour.
‘Wow, I thought we were just going to supper at Bernie’s,’ she said.
‘We are. Do you think I’m overdressed?’ Eric closed the distance between them.
‘No, it’s just that tall people always look so good in clothes,’ she muttered, saying the first thing that came to mind.
‘I
’m not sure how to respond other than I think you look spectacular and you’re not tall.’ Eric took hold of her arm. ‘We’d better get going. Alfonzo likes to eat on time.’
‘Sorry, I’m a little rusty at social conversation. Where is your grandmother? I truly need someone to take the pressure off me.’
Eric’s chuckle set Jill somewhat at ease. ‘Nonni would only make things worse. Trust me. She took an Uber to Bernie’s so you and I would have time alone. Those were her exact words. You’d better run, Jill Wyatt, or Nonni will have us married by Christmas. Change your name, dye your hair, and get lost. Wasn’t that William Faulkner’s famous advice?’
‘Something to that effect.’ Jill forced herself to laugh. If only Eric knew how close to the truth he was. ‘Does your sister live far from downtown?’ she asked.
‘Not at all. We’re turning on to Calhoun, which becomes the James Island Expressway when it crosses the Ashley River. Bernie lives on James Island. We’ll be there within twenty minutes, depending on traffic. Tell me what happened today at the hospital. I wanted to drop by to sit with you, but I wasn’t sure how your client would feel about that.’
‘Mr Sugarman isn’t particularly friendly, but I would have appreciated the company. Walking the hall is more interesting with a partner.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind for the future,’ he said.
By the time she brought him up to speed with the Sugarmans, Eric turned into a circular drive leading to a rambling Spanish colonial on a suburban lot. ‘We are here,’ he announced.
Jill climbed out and let her gaze travel up to the clay tile roof. ‘What a lovely house.’
The door swung open when they were still halfway up the walk. ‘Hi, Uncle Eric,’ Dani greeted. ‘Jill, I can’t wait for you to try the dessert I made after school.’
‘You made it, Danielle?’ Eric asked. ‘Hopefully, there’s syrup of ipecac in the house.’
‘With a little help from Mom.’ Danielle stuck her tongue out at her uncle.
‘We’re so glad you could join us, Jill.’ Bernie gave her a quick hug when they reached the huge country kitchen. ‘I’m in charge of pasta. As soon as everyone finishes their task, we’ll be ready to eat. Would you like iced tea to drink?’
