“You haven’t been to Iva’s apartment again, have you?”
“Not really,” Mom mumbled.
“What do you mean by not really?” My voice had hiked a notch until I remembered Marcus lay upstairs asleep.
“We, Mr. Perkins and I, got to talking. He’d had another key made just in case he lost the other one. He gave you the original. We went back to the apartment and took another look around. This time we searched very carefully.”
Mom’s explanation wasn’t what I wanted, or needed, to hear at the moment. I choked my aggravation down and listened in silence. How had my mother, the Bake Sale Queen, become the Bake Sale Sleuth? I wondered as she continued to justify her actions.
“It wasn’t a big deal, Lavinia, so don’t worry about it. We found several letters that I brought home for you to look at. I have the journal I took the other day, but it doesn’t make much sense to me. I’ll keep it, so you can read that, too.”
“Fine,” I said.
“Lavinia, you sound upset.”
Exasperated, I remarked, “How should I sound? Elated that my mother not only broke and entered a dead woman’s apartment once, but she did it a second time? What were you thinking? Or were you thinking at all?” I rambled on as I paced the living room. “If the police had caught you, I’d be at Bellini’s office making the deal of the century to get your butt out of lock up, Mom.” I huffed and puffed like a weary old dragon.
Silence met my final words. Mom thought the lecture over. I waited for her to come up with a good response. It didn’t take long, but I was surprised when she spoke.
“You’re right, dear, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. It was just a good opportunity to go through Iva’s things before her family shows up from New York to take them away.”
It occurred to me that she was right, but I refused to admit it.
“Tomorrow, I’ll come by and look over what you stole. Do not, and I mean this, go in there again, Mom.” I tried to sound tough, but I knew she could tell I wasn’t. After all, she probably realized I’d have done the same thing in her shoes.
She agreed and disconnected the call. I sat on the sofa and stared out the windows for a while, trying to calm down. My mother, the Bake Sale Queen turned burglar and Bake Sale Sleuth. Good God, what was my family coming to? Maybe I was a bad influence on my mother. I ruffled the hair at my scalp with my fingers.
When I heard a stair creak, my eyes cut to the staircase. In a flash I went to the bottom of the steps and stared upwards. Nothing was visible from where I stood. Reluctant to turn on the light in case Marcus awoke, I felt my way up the stairs and into the room.
The covers lay over his inert body as I slid between them. His breathing sounded normal and even, so I figured he was still asleep. As I lay there in the dark, I felt him reach over and stroke my bare skin.
“I could really get used to this,” he mumbled in a sleepy tone.
“Mmm, I know,” I whispered.
Sleep eluded me for some time. I lay awake considering my job, life without Aunt Livvy, my family issues, and this man, who shared those things with me to some extent. Unable to make any sense out of the present situation concerning my mother, I turned on my side and finally drifted off.
It wasn’t until the bed rocked slightly that I realized I wasn’t at home. My eyes popped open. I peered around to get my bearings. Marcus walked past me in a pair of undershorts and nothing else. He glanced at me and smiled.
He greeted me with, “Good morning, sunshine,” and tousled my snarled curls.
“Morning,” I mumbled and snuggled under the covers. I hauled the coverlet over my head and closed my eyes.
“I’m making coffee and breakfast if you’re interested,” he offered, walking from the room, clothes in hand.
The smell of perked coffee and bacon sizzling beckoned me. Tempting aromas wafted up the stairs and into my nostrils. I’d managed to slide from under the covers and slip my undies on. In the bathroom, across the hall from the bedroom, I took stock of my face and hair.
Without a toothbrush, I was lost. I washed my face. A comb sat on the shelf below the mirror. In an effort to bring the thick mass of hair floating around my face to order, I pulled the comb through it, mumbling swear words as each snag yielded sharp pains to my scalp. When I finished the chore, I headed downstairs for coffee.
I stepped off the bottom step when it hit me. Christmas without Aunt Livvy. Why the thought bothered me at the moment, I couldn’t say. It just did. I stared at the tiny tree Marcus had set up and thought back to my tree selection trips with Aunt Livvy. I quickly tucked the memory away and joined Marcus in the kitchen.
“There’s a spare toothbrush in the cabinet of that bathroom.” Marcus pointed to a room off the kitchen.
“Thanks.” I went into the small bathroom to brush my teeth.
Steam rose from the coffee cup he offered when I returned and slid into a chair. His smile met my glance. I wondered what he was thinking.
“Did you sleep well?” Marcus wanted to know.
“Mmm,” I lied. “Did you?”
“Like a rock.”
“Good.” I glanced at the wall clock. It was early. I had the day off, so there’d be no rush to get to the university.
A plate full of crisp bacon, and another with scrumptious muffins, sat on the table. He’d bought the muffins the day before, Marcus said. I nodded and picked at a cranberry muffin, while nibbling a piece of bacon.
“Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” he asked. “I’m a good listener, you know.”
I sidestepped his question.
“It’s nothing, really.”
He gazed at me. “If you’re sure.”
“Christmas is sad without Livvy,” I blurted out. “She and I used to pick out a Christmas tree and decorate it together. We had a great time.” A tear slid from the corner of my eye.
Marcus covered my hand with his in an effort to stem the flow of tears. Most men don’t handle this kind of emotion well, and Marcus was no different. He patted my hand and offered words of comfort.
I sniffled and held back a heavy onslaught of tears. I rose to get a tissue from the bathroom. When I returned, Marcus had begun to clear the dining room table. We’d left the mess the evening before. Congealed food crusted serving dishes and plates.
“Sorry about that,” I said as I started to help him.
“Not at all. I understand, Vin. It’ll be hard, but I’ll help you through it.” His eyes held a look of concern as he folded me within the warmth of his arms, kissing my brow.
I thought it a safe place to be. My inner voice said otherwise. Warnings of imminent danger from romantic involvement with law enforcement officials droned through my head. Damn, I wished for a shut-off switch.
Once I’d reluctantly disengaged myself from his embrace, Marcus and I finished clearing the table. Eventually, the room looked like new. I headed upstairs to dress.
With straightened shoulders and a no-nonsense attitude, I took stock of my rumpled attire. My clothes didn’t matter since I had my mother to deal with and a tree to put up. Those two things seemed more important than clothing at the moment.
From the doorway, I heard Marcus say, “What has your mother been up to?”
In an instant, I realized he’d heard my side of the phone conversation with my mother. He’d played me when I’d returned to bed. This was a test to see if I’d tell him what had transpired, even though I was sure he already knew.
“Not much that I know of. She wants me to go over later today. I promised to help her with the bake sale tomorrow.”
His eyes took on a gleam, but he didn’t ask any other questions. Marcus simply nodded and left the room. Guilt swam through my gut like a shark around a sinking ship. The feeling passed quickly, and I headed down the stairs.
The less I told Marcus, the safer it was for him, and my mother. He was law enforcement, which meant he had a duty to perform. That duty did not include dragging my mother away in
handcuffs, if I could help it.
I’d put Marcus and Aaron in tight spots before when I’d done things outside legal boundaries. If anyone had been the wiser, I’d have been in the cell that my mother might have the misfortune to inhabit.
Unable to accept that line of thinking, I turned away from it. Instead, I walked up behind Marcus, drew my hands up both sides of his spine and rubbed his shoulders. He turned with a smile and slipped his arms around my waist, drawing me closer. I kissed him. Things went crazy for a moment. Hunger spread through me like wildfire until a knock sounded at the door. The heated moment fled on swift wings.
We stepped apart, and Marcus answered the summons. I heard a deep voice rumble. Marcus agreed to take care of something. In a second or two, the door closed and Marcus strolled back into the dining room.
“That was my neighbor. I have to do a favor for him today,” he said.
“Oh, well, I need to get going. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” I placed a light kiss on his lips.
Holding me close for a moment, Marcus whispered into my hair, “Uh, huh. Keep in touch, please stay out of trouble, and that goes for your mother, as well.”
“Sure thing. You know me.” I smiled.
Releasing me, he said, “That’s the problem.”
“By the way, thank you for dinner, dessert, and the pajama parade,” I offered with a rueful grin.
“Anytime, beautiful.” He smiled and then whipped a box from his pocket.
My nerves tightened as I stared at the square box. It was the wrong shape to be a ring. I was grateful for that. I stood silent, frozen.
“I wanted to give this to you last night, but things got out of control,” Marcus said placing the small flat box in the palm of my hand.
When I tore away the gold foil paper, I noticed the jewelers name printed on the box lid. It was the same jeweler that my father used when he bought jewelry for my mother. Inside the box, a heavy woven rope bracelet of gold and silver lay coiled on a soft cushion. It was exquisite. My breath caught in my throat.
“What’s this for?” I asked as I withdrew the bracelet from its resting place.
“Your birthday is in a couple of days. I wanted to surprise you.”
The gleam in his eyes had warmed to something I couldn’t read. It seemed to be emotional, so I stepped into his embrace and kissed my thanks for the gift.
“This is lovely, thank you.”
“You’re not going to say ‘You shouldn’t have’?” he asked with a smirk.
“No, not at all. I’m very pleased with it, and by your thoughtfulness.” Relief that it wasn’t an engagement ring filtered through me.
“Why didn’t you wait?” I asked.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d be here on your birthday. I’m off to visit my mother for a few days. I wanted you to have it before I left. She’ll be in New York on a shopping trip, and has asked that I join her.” He took the bracelet from my hand and clasped the catch around my wrist. The golden color glowed against my skin.
I glanced up as he spoke. “Oh,” I said. Disappointed that he’d be away, I made an effort to smile and thanked him again.
“It’s only for a couple days. I have vacation time owed me, so I plan to take advantage of it before the captain changes his mind and says he can’t spare me.”
I nodded, kissed him lightly, stepped into his arms, and rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet. The warmth of his body invaded mine, leaving me with a safe and snuggly feeling.
Before I left, he held me tight and kissed me thoroughly. Breathless, I headed home.
Bright color gleamed and glinted, as the bracelet slid around on my wrist, while I drove in the early morning sun. The day had started out on a high note, and by sheer will, I promised I’d make it stay that way if possible. It was a daunting task.
Chapter 12
Within twenty minutes, I’d parked the car at the Salt & Pepper Deli, located on the corner down the street from my house. I hurried up the back steps of the deli and strode through the door.
A welcoming smile from Millie, the counter helper Lola had hired, turned to a grin when she caught sight of my face. I must have been glowing, because she started to chuckle, or maybe it was my attire that caused her to laugh. With a wave of her hand, she mentioned that Lola was in the kitchen with Monica Heartworthy. I smiled, nodded, and headed through the doorway.
The two women turned as I strode in. Grinning, I held out my wrist so their eyes could feast on the sparkling bracelet.
“Where did you get that gorgeous thing?” Lola demanded.
“Marcus gave it to me for my birthday. Great, huh?” I giggled like a schoolgirl. Why? I don’t know.
Her dark eyes glued to the bracelet. Monica moved forward and held my wrist. She gazed at it thoughtfully, and then glanced at me. In a dreamy voice, she said, “This was a gift given in love. Great thought was put into it. Another man will give you gifts, too.”
Her eyes snapped shut and then popped open again. For an instant, I thought it was a joke until I glanced at Lola’s serious face. I stared at Lola for a second and then turned to Monica.
“Monica, you give me the jitters sometimes. You know that, don’t you?”
The dreamy state was gone. Monica seemed to have come back to earth. Her face flushed as she looked at me.
“It’s a lovely gift, Vin. You must be very happy.”
“I was surprised when Marcus invited me to dinner at his place. We had a nice dinner, and then, well, never mind.”
As she sat back on the stool, Monica took my hand once more and stared at my palm for a few minutes. Now what? Leery, I wondered what she’d say.
“You have a lengthy lifeline, Vinnie,” Monica said softly. “You’re in a bit of danger though, and you must take care.” Her eyes rose to mine. I stared into her dark orbs.
“How do you know these things, Monica?”
“I don’t question it. I just know.”
“Does everything you predict come to fruition?”
“Most times, I think. Some people never tell me, so it’s hard to say what the percentages are.”
“Maybe you can tell Lola when she’ll meet Mr. Right, then?” I grinned.
“That’s something that hasn’t revealed itself. I’ve seen someone in her past coming forward again, though. He’s tall and wears a hat.”
“I think she means Jonah,” Lola said. “He’s called a couple times and asked me out, but with another cookbook in the works, I couldn’t go. The revisions and photos are done, so if he asks me again, the answer is yes.”
As I headed toward the door with a wave goodbye, Monica stood up and crossed over to me. She laid a hand on my forearm and squeezed it gently.
“You must watch over your mother. She doesn’t know how close danger is.” Her eyes filled with concern, Monica stared at me. Releasing my arm, she stepped away.
Chilled by her words, I left the deli. Rafael’s car was gone from the driveway. One of the overhead garage doors stood open. I parked in front of the closed door and wandered inside the garage.
A man stepped around the antique cars that filled the two parking spaces, a wrench in one hand and a rag in the other. The cars stood nose to end of one another. His mechanic’s outfit was greasy and stained. I grinned at Brett MacIntyre as he waved his greeting. His red nose and the stark white skin of his hands were a dead giveaway of how cold he was.
“Brett, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“Mr. Cortland wants to move these cars to the new garage he built behind his house. Didn’t he call you?”
I shrugged and said, “Maybe he left a message on my answering machine.”
The four bays of the garage were rented to two men who collected antique cars. I had always wanted to use one bay for my own car, but the money that I received for the rentals was worth leaving my car exposed to the elements. Neither Rafe nor Aaron had asked to use the garage, either.
“I’ll check the answering machine. How about a hot cup
of coffee? You look frozen.”
His face brightened when he smiled. Brett nodded, said to let him know when the coffee was ready, and went back to work, tinkering with the motor to get it started. I left him to it.
While the coffee perked, I listened to the multiple messages on the answering machine. A call from my twin brother said little more than hello. My mother called twice. The university requested that I teach another two classes next semester since one of the other instructors would be on sabbatical.
Finally, Mr. Cortland’s voice came over the speaker. He apologized for the short notice, but the final inspection of his new garage had gone without a hitch. He’d received the certificate of approval for the building. Brett would bring the cars to his place as soon as possible. He thanked me for the use of the building.
I cupped my chin in my hands while resting my elbows on the counter. When the coffee finished brewing, I poured a steaming cup for Brett. Friends for many years, I knew he liked his coffee sweet. I dumped three teaspoons of sugar into the cup with a heavy dollop of milk and went outside.
The first car ran smoothly. I heard the motor of the second car turn over and catch. It sputtered a few times and then coughed a bit. Like an old fart, the car spluttered until the engine started to warm. I stood back from the two vehicles and held the cup in the air for Brett to see. He grinned and strolled to the doorway where he slurped the hot beverage and smacked his lips. The gesture reminded me of a television commercial, and I snickered.
“Mr. Cortland did leave a message,” I told him.
“Are you looking for someone to rent these bays from you, Vinnie?” he asked.
“Not right away, I think. I want to use this side of the garage for a while. If I find I need the money, then I’ll let you know.”
“Okay, I know someone who’s looking for a place to keep his cars.”
“Thanks, I appreciate the thought.”
“Did you know my grandmother died recently?” he asked as he sipped.
“No, I didn’t know. I’m sorry to hear about that,” I answered in a sympathetic voice.
“She lived in Cranston in a senior citizen housing apartment.”
J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 05 - Season for Murder Page 10
