by Janet Leigh
“I finally caved in and gave him my key. My car was in the racing garage waiting for the race the following day. He transported right out of the garage. Do you know how dangerous it is to use your vessel in an enclosed space? I stepped out back for a smoke.”
“You smoke?”
“Only when I’m stressed out. What can I say, I’m Italian; my whole family smokes. Are you going to lecture me, or do you want me to finish my story?”
“Sorry, you just don’t look like a smoker.”
“Jen.”
“Sorry, go on.”
“It seemed like he was only gone about five minutes when the car returned under a big tree behind the garage…empty. A few minutes later, the outhouse appeared. Elma had my grandfather; he had been shot. I helped her lay him down on the ground. He opened his eyes and told me they had found it. Then he died in my arms.
“Elma was injured, but she immediately sent her vessel away. She removed the key from around my grandfather’s neck and told me to take my car back to the racing garage. I didn’t want to leave, but she said I must protect the gift. She took off her key and told me to make sure I gave it to you. In fact, she made me promise. I was so shaken up by my grandfather’s death, I did what she told me to do.
“After I returned my car, I went back to help, and they were both dead. Elma had been strangled. She rested against the tree with my grandfather’s head in her lap. From a distance it looked like two lovers relaxing under a tree together. I should have known someone was coming after them. Why else would she have taken off her key? I was stupid.”
I laid my hand over his hand resting on the gearshift. “You didn’t know. You were only eighteen years old, right?”
“I remembered there was the faint smell of garlic in the air. Someone had been there in the short time I was gone. It had to be a brigand. No one else could have been there so quickly.” He pounded his fist gently on the steering wheel.
“Garlic?” I asked.
“Yeah, the phosphorous emission from the vessel sorta smells like garlic.”
“What did your grandfather find?”
“I’m not sure, possibly the king’s vessel. But I never got a chance to find out. I summoned the WTF. They took the bodies. My grandfather’s body they took back to his office, made it look like a crime scene. I heard Elma’s was set up as an accident. After the police came, they interrogated everyone in my family. I hid my key and haven’t traveled since.”
“Wait, you sent me the key?”
“Yes, and the vessel. I thought it would be safe with you because you didn’t understand the gift. I never suspected you would figure it out on your own.”
“Is that why you came to Cousin Trish’s wedding?”
“It’s funny how life comes full circle. Uncle Vinnie met Trish at my grandfather’s funeral. He is buried in Anacapri, a city on the island of Capri in Italy. Trish was visiting Capri with a potential husband and met Vinnie at the hotel bar. He tells it to have been love at first sight. Neither Trish nor Vinnie knows about the gift or the WTF. I came to the wedding to meet you. I needed to see if you really had the gift. There is no record of it passing from outside a direct line.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone tells me.” I watched the lights disappear as we headed north, away from the city.
The scenery changed from skyscrapers to farmland. I didn’t realize New York had farms. I’d always thought of it as one big city with tall buildings, incredible shopping, gangsters, and lots of traffic. We slowed as we entered South Hampton.
“How much longer?” I asked Marco.
“The Mafusos’ place is in East Hampton. Just a little farther up the road.”
We passed several large houses characteristic of the beach style: three-story wood-framed houses the Hamptons are so well-known for. Driving through Bridgehampton, I noticed the cute town had high-end stores lining the main street. I made a mental note for future shopping adventures. Marco was drumming his finger in time with a Maroon 5 song on the radio. I sat back and tried to relax, even though the closer we got to the Mafusos, the harder my heart started to pound. Caiyan’s sexy voice hummed in my earpiece. His thick Scottish accent made my thighs tingle.
“Things are good, yeah?” he asked.
I responded by pressing my brooch and with an unsteady voice said, “Um, we’re fine.” Marco raised an eyebrow at me.
“You dinnae have to do this if you are feeling scared.”
“I’m fine. Over and out,” I said firmly. I needed to be confident. I needed to prove I could be a team player.
Marco grinned. “If you say breaker, breaker one-nine, they will probably take away your transporter card and put you behind a desk.”
“I just feel like I should say good-bye; it seems rude to disconnect without an ending, sort of like hanging up on someone.”
Ace’s voice came over my earpiece. “Darlin’, we are twenty minutes from base, over and out.” Thanks, Ace. He always had my back.
Jake had acquired a communication device, and I heard his voice in my ear telling us he was in position. I also heard Caiyan tell him there was a little problem and we had made an adjustment. I figured I was the adjustment, and I needed to get inside the wedding before Jake found out and changed my plans. Caiyan told Jake not to worry; they would be at the rendezvous soon.
We passed a few more lovely houses, and then all hell broke loose. I heard a van door open through my headset, and Jake began cussing. Ace’s microphone was stuck in the on position again, and I could hear him trying to explain the situation.
“What can I say, accidents do happen,” came Ace’s reply.
“Jen, you do not go into that wedding,” Jake commanded.
He was shouting orders in my ear. I pressed my pretty lapel pin, then tapped my fingers on the top. “Sorry, come again? I am getting static. I can’t hear you.”
Marco laughed. “You’re sneaky—no wonder he worries about you. So which one is it?” he asked, gesturing with his palm. “The cool superagent or the bad-boy defender?”
“Neither,” I replied, listening to Jake complain in my ear. “They both seem to end up with other women, so I am currently off men.”
“Maybe I can change your mind.”
“What about the no-contact policy you had with Ace?”
“Babe, that only applies with Ace. You are full contact.”
Yikes!
We pulled through tall, black iron gates into the circle drive of a huge stone mansion. A valet dressed as a monkey helped me out of the car. As we started toward the front door, a photographer jumped out of the bushes and snapped a picture. I threw my hands over my face in surprise. A big burly man dressed head to toe in black came and grabbed the photographer.
“No paparazzi. This here’s a private party.”
“Who is she, Marco?” the photographer yelled. “Is it the French princess or the Greek tycoon’s daughter?”
Marco tucked his hand in mine and ushered me inside.
“Sorry about that,” he said, sulking.
“Well, sounds like you have your fair share of women too,” I said.
Marco was about to respond when a lovely girl dressed as Alice in Wonderland came up and gave him a big smack right on the lips. I smirked at him.
“Marco, where have you been hiding?” she asked, grinning ear to ear. “Mother said you haven’t called in over a week.”
“I’ve been out of town. I just returned late last night.”
“Well, you’d think you could have at least worn a costume.” She pressed two pouty lips together. “Everyone will recognize you in your racing gear.”
Marco shrugged, then the girl noticed me standing next to Marco.
“Hi! I’m sorry, I am being completely rude. I don’t know if I have ever met you with the costume and all. Who is this, Marco?”
“Sorry, Jen. This is my sister, Evangeline.”
His sister! I exhaled, not realizing I was holding my breath. This got a smile from Marco.
“Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand, which she took, and then she pulled me to her and kissed my cheek.
“Everyone calls me Angel,” she explained. “Ooh, your hands are so warm.” I felt a zing of warmth run up my arm. Marco eyed me curiously and quickly pulled his sister away.
“C’mon, you can sit next to me and Mother. She will be so excited to see Marco.” Angel locked elbows with Marco and me, then escorted us into the house.
We came through the foyer, which opened up into a huge entry with an enormous Scarlet O’Hara staircase that ascended up a story, then split into two staircases that continued in opposing directions. Red velvet brocade carpeting covered the stair treads. Centered on the landing at the top of the first set of steps was an arbor decorated with a variety of roses in every color. As we moved farther into the hall, I could see that the red carpet transitioned from the stairs and began creating a wide aisle. White chairs were set up on either side of the red carpet runner. My shoes clicked on the Italian marble tile as we made our way to the chairs.
Ushers were seating people, and a harpist was playing in the corner. Everything looked like a normal wedding except for the fact that everyone was in costume and the court jester was making his way over to seat us.
“Yous with the bride or groom?” he asked.
I remembered him from Trish’s wedding. He was a cousin or something to Vinnie.
“Joey, you’re so funny.” Angel gave him a punch on his skinny bicep. “You know we are with the groom. Seat us next to Mother.”
“I knows, but I’m sposed to ask; it’s the rules. Hey, Marco, nice costume, very original. Who’s the dame?”
Marco grabbed my hand and said curtly, “A friend.” I smiled apologetically.
“OK. Jeez, I get it. She’s an actress or someone famous. Yous knows I can keep a secret. Ya know, Enzio is my cousin on my mother’s side. That’s why I’m offerin’ my services as usher.”
He offered an arm for Angel. Marco and I followed her down the aisle. Joey dropped us off at seats about halfway up, where a gorgeous blonde sat in a white Chanel suit. She had the same nose as Marco and Angel and smiled politely when Marco introduced us. She was carrying a mask on a stick.
“Who are you supposed to be?” Marco asked his mother.
“I am myself in a mask,” she responded with a slight accent. “I think these things are silly. A wedding should be done in a church before God, not at a costume party.”
Dang, I couldn’t remember the last time I had gone to church. My palms started to sweat, and I began mentally making a list for confession. I looked over my shoulder and caught Caiyan coming in unushered. He sat toward the back. Not too far behind him entered a woman dressed as a showgirl. Her headdress was tall with feathers molting off of it. She was arguing with Joey about having to sit in the back because people couldn’t see over her costume. After a few words, I realized it was Cousin Trish. I took in a quick breath and grabbed Marco’s arm. He turned to see what caught my attention. Vinnie had come up behind her, not really in any form of costume.
“What are they doing here?” I asked. “I thought they were Mafia enemies.”
“Enzio is related to Vinnie, which means common ground during the wedding. Don’t worry, they probably won’t recognize you in the wig.”
My heart rate escalated a couple of notches. How could Mortas hold Gertie captive in this house, while her mom and stepdad were guests? I was in awe at the criminal world. Things didn’t make sense. The bad guys were all mixed up with the good guys. Finally Cousin Trish compromised by taking off the feather headpiece, and they were seated closer to the front on the groom’s side.
The ushers finished seating everyone, and I recognized several of the guests as people I had read about in People magazine or seen on TMZ. Their costumes didn’t disguise them well enough to hide their identity, which I think was precisely the point. The joker was present, but with very little face paint, allowing me to place him as one of the cast of a TV sitcom. Looking at it from a famous person’s perspective, I realized there was no point in attending a function if you didn’t get the notoriety that came along with it.
A band appeared from I don’t know where and began to play. The mother of the bride was escorted in wearing an I Dream of Jeannie costume. Not bad abs for a woman her age.
I was contemplating starting an exercise program when Marco whispered, “There’s the Mafuso elder, Gian-Carlo Mafuso.” A silver-haired man in his seventies walked down the aisle and took a seat next to the mother of the bride. He was either not in costume or dressed as a mortician; I couldn’t decide but opted for the former.
“Is he a brigand?” I asked.
“Yes and no. I heard he just flew in from Italy tonight.” Marco’s breath was warm on my neck and made the hair on my arms, among other things, stand at attention. I looked over at him, and the wicked grin had reappeared on his gorgeous face. He knew exactly what kind of effect he had on me and was totally playing it up. Men, geesh!
“What do you mean yes and no?”
“He has already passed his key to Mortas. He only directs the show now. His grandchildren have the starring roles.”
“How many of his grandchildren have the gift?”
“So far as I know, the three Mafusos you have met, who are Gian-Carlo’s son, Dominic’s kids.”
Marco pointed to a stocky man with dark hair and a round face. “That’s Guido his other son. He has two children but I don’t know if they have the gift. It doesn’t matter because they are out of keys.”
“No wonder they want mine.”
“They can’t do anything without the vessel.”
The music changed to trumpets played by three knights. Their costumes clanked as they moved into their places at the side of the big hall. A priest appeared under the arch dressed as himself. The catholic church probably frowned on a costumed master of ceremonies. Three groomsmen, fully clad as lords, came down the stairs on the right to stand on the groom’s side of the arch. One at a time, each bridesmaid came flouncing down the aisle until three bridesmaids, dressed like tavern wenches from medieval times, were standing opposite the groomsmen. I realized the second wench was Mahlia. Perfect outfit.
A young girl dressed as a peasant came in throwing red rose petals. She was followed by a young boy in a squire’s costume. He carried in his chubby hands a purple satin pillow with a ring sparkling in the center. Halfway down the aisle, he stumbled and tilted the pillow. The ring slid off and rolled under my chair. I jumped up, and we were all scrambling to find it. The boy was crawling under my chair. Marco and I were trying to bend down, but the seats were too close together to allow us to see under the chair. The boy announced very loudly that he had located the missing ring, backed out from the chair, and stood up under my skirt.
“Oops,” he said.
In my haste I accidentally pressed my brooch and said, “Get out from under there, you little shit.”
Jake’s voice returned in my ear. “Who is under where? What’s Marco doing? I’ll kill him.”
I couldn’t deal with the voice in my ear or the child under my dress, who was pulling the fabric down instead of up—my boobs were starting to come out the top. I looked up, frantic, and saw Mahlia staring at me. Recognition came over her face, and anger lit up her eyes. Marco leaned over and pushed the kid’s head down until he was out from under my dress. There was applause from the crowd and a few boos, mostly from the men.
The ring bearer was red-faced and looked up at me, loudly asking, “Jeez, lady, don’t you wear any underwear?”
I sat down fast and didn’t look up until he made it to the stairs.
Caiyan’s voice purred in my ear. “Lucky lad.”
Then Jake’s: “Stifle it, McGregor, or your ass is mine.”
Marco just sat there with a wicked grin on his face. Damn, I shouldn’t have worn the new Victoria’s Secret thong Ace made me buy.
The band changed tunes again, and a very Italian-looking man dre
ssed as a prince came down the right staircase and joined the groomsmen.
I didn’t see Mortas, but maybe he was in costume. The music changed again, and a brass section played Madonna’s “Like a Virgin.”
I looked over at Marco. “Seriously?”
He smiled and draped an arm around the back of my chair, stroking the back of my neck with his fingers. I could feel things heat up down south, so I clamped my legs together to extinguish the flames.
The bride flowed in from the left staircase dressed in a princess gown and tall, pointed hat with matching veil. I could feel Mahlia’s eyes on me throughout the ceremony, but I avoided looking at her. I didn’t want to screw up Gertie’s rescue. The ceremony concluded with the bride singing a solo and all members of the royal bridal party providing backup. We were asked to move to the grand ballroom so photographs of the wedding party could be taken. Fine by me—I needed a drink.
Marco took my elbow and led me down a hall on the right, which opened to a huge ballroom. Polished wood floors gleamed under my feet, and huge gilt-framed paintings adorned the walls, making me feel as though I had walked into the Louvre. At the far end was a stage, where another band was set up and already playing. A long table extended down one side of the room and was set up for the bridal party.
Several guests were making their way to the round tables scattered about the room and to the tables set up on the patio outside. Each table had a small glass centerpiece shaped into a pumpkin surrounded by colorful fall leaves. Candles glowed from the center, creating a romantic atmosphere. The chandeliers were dimmed, making me feel a little less conspicuous about being discovered. Marco grabbed two flutes of champagne off a passing tray carried by Lurch from The Addams Family.
“Thanks,” I said as he handed me the glass. We stood next to a Cezanne painting entitled Temptation of St. Anthony as we sipped the champagne and watched other guests enter the room. I didn’t see any sign of the Mafusos. I assumed Satan’s bitch would have to get her picture taken with the rest of the bridal party. I spotted Marco’s mother across the ballroom in deep conversation with Vinnie and Cousin Trish, then she pointed in Marco’s direction, and they headed our way. I grabbed Marco’s arm. He saw them approaching as well.
