by Lynn, JB
I studied the painting, a portrait, for a moment. It was of a woman, maybe in her mid-thirties, dark hair, bright flashing eyes and a smile that lit up the windowless room. She looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place her.
“I don’t know.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned backwards. “That’s Esmeralda.”
I waited, obviously that was supposed to mean something to me, but it didn’t.
“My sister,” Delveccio elaborated. “Angel’s mother.”
I looked at the painting more closely, trying to find the resemblance between the vivacious woman on the canvas and the man who’d been my niece’s manny.
“She was very beautiful,” I said carefully. Under the best of circumstances, it’s not easy to talk to somebody about dead relatives, and for all I knew, Delveccio had knocked her off when she’d betrayed the family.
“She was,” Delveccio said. “Too beautiful for her own good.”
I stood there for a long uncomfortable moment, waiting for him to say something else. I still had no idea what I was doing there. But whatever it was, I had the feeling it weighed heavily on him. His shoulders were slumped, and lines that normally didn’t appear on his forehead seemed to be permanently etched there.
When he didn’t say anything after a long moment, I prompted, “You needed me for something?”
He nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off his sister’s portrait. “I’m worried about him.”
“Angel?” I guessed.
“He’s been in a mood,” Delveccio revealed.
“I noticed that the last time I saw him,” I confirmed, remembering how on edge Angel had seemed. “What’s wrong?”
Delveccio shook his head. “I’m not sure. But he’s in a mood, and he’s keeping bad company.”
That revelation surprised me. Angel Delveccio was not in the family business. He was a straight shooter. A healer. A guy who, as far as I knew, had served with distinction in the U.S. Navy. Someone who had a legit job at the hospital. It didn’t really track that he would be keeping bad company.
Delveccio tore his gaze away from his sister’s and locked his eyes on mine. “I need you to be discreet about this.”
My stomach dropped, and for a moment, a horrible moment, I was afraid he was going to ask me to kill his nephew.
“I need somebody to follow him, to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble,” the mob boss elaborated.
I let out a shaky sigh of relief. “What kind of trouble?”
Delveccio shrugged. “I don’t know, but I have a feeling he’s headed down a dangerous path. Maybe you could use your feminine influence to turn him around.” He looked to me hopefully.
I considered whether feminine influence was part of my arsenal of skills. Considering the last guy I’d slept with, Patrick Mulligan, had quickly thrown me over for a woman who tried to kill us both, I didn’t think it was something I should be bragging about.
But I couldn’t refuse the mobster. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Don’t fail me,” Delveccio said solemnly.
I wasn’t sure if that was a request or a warning.
7
Gino wordlessly started the car when I stepped out of the mausoleum.
We rode in silence for the first few minutes. He wasn’t about to ask me what kind of job our mutual boss had given me, and I couldn’t very well ask about Angel’s behavior without tipping my hand.
Finally, he cleared his throat. “So, well…” he said slowly.
I glanced over at him, surprised. Usually, he was a man who spoke his mind, but he seemed to be having a difficult time with whatever it was he was trying to broach.
“What’s up?” I asked curiously.
“So, this is awkward,” he said.
“My life is never anything but,” I assured him. “Whatever it is, just spill it.”
Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he nodded and said, “It’s about your brother.”
My breath caught in my throat, wondering what kind of trouble Ian had gotten himself into.
“What about him?”
“He’s been acting kind of…cagey,” Gino said carefully.
“I agree!” God chimed in from my chest.
Gino glanced over, surprised by the squeaking noise, and then rolled his eyes.
Still, as Delveccio’s bodyguard, he practiced discretion on a regular basis, so said nothing about the noise.
“What do you mean cagey?” I asked worriedly.
“He’s spending his time in some unusual places,” Gino answered.
I wasn’t sure whether I should ask him first where Ian had been, or why he knew. I remained silent and decided to just let him tell the story in whatever form he chose.
“He’s had drinks with the M.E.,” Gino said.
“Me?” I asked confused.
“The town’s medical examiner,” Gino said. “You know, the people who poke at dead bodies…when they find them.”
“When they’re not mixed into ice cream?” I quipped.
Gino glanced over at me wide-eyed and then chuckled. “You have a dark sense of humor.”
“It’s the only thing that keeps me sane,” I told him.
“That’s debatable,” God opined from his hiding place.
Ignoring the lizard, I asked the bodyguard, “And how do you know where Ian’s been and who he’s been meeting with?”
He shrugged. “We keep an eye on anybody that’s connected to you.”
I wasn’t sure if I should find that reassuring or frightening. Before I could ask him, he pulled into the driveway of the farm.
“I’ll walk from here,” I said, not wanting him to pull closer to the compound.
He immediately brought the car to a stop. “Look,” he said, “no doubt the boss just gave you a job, and I’m not asking what it is, but I’m telling you this, if you need help, call me.”
“Thanks.” I reached for the handle of the car door and his fingers closed around my left wrist. Startled by the contact, I spun in my seat to look back at him.
“I’m serious,” he said with intensity. “Don’t hesitate. Don’t wait. Just do it. Call me.”
I nodded, trying to make sense of the flutter of excitement flowing through me because of our physical contact. “I will.”
Despite the fact he didn’t seem to believe me, he released my wrist. “Be careful, Maggie.”
“I will,” I promised as I climbed out of the car. As soon as I’d slammed the door shut, he spun the car in a circle and headed back out.
I took my time walking toward the compound, enjoying my few minutes of isolation.
Except I wasn’t alone. I had the know-it-all lizard to keep me company.
“What do you think Angel is doing?” God asked, scrambling up onto my shoulder.
“I have no idea.”
“And how are you going to influence him?” the reptile continued.
“I don’t know that, either,” I said tiredly.
The little guy didn’t let up. “And why is Ian meeting with the medical examiner?”
I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“And why do you think Gino is so—”
“I don’t know,” I interrupted him firmly. “Basically, I don’t know anything. But I wasn’t going to turn Delveccio down, I want to help Angel if he’s in trouble, and Gino seems to think he’s my bodyguard now, too.”
Before God could ask me any more questions, Herschel came strolling up the road toward me.
His little white dog, Zippy, raced toward us, barking excitedly. “Back. Back. Back.”
“He sounds like somebody trying to chase off Dracula with a wooden cross,” God muttered dramatically and then dove back into my bra.
He wasn’t fond of the little dog. I wasn’t sure if he was fond of Herschel, either.
My newly found grandfather gave me a weak smile once he was in earshot. “Do you know how you’re going to vote about Armani?”
&
nbsp; I nodded. The family was going to vote on whether to allow Armani to become a member of the compound. “I do,” I told him calmly.
He put his hands on his hips. “Are you going to tell me?”
“I thought it was supposed to be a secret vote.” Personally, I thought the reason it was a secret vote was because somebody, specifically Aunt Loretta, had been watching too much of a certain reality television show.
“It’s supposed to be,” Herschel said, “but I don’t know who to vote for. I don’t know this woman.”
“I thought you weren’t going to vote.”
“I’ve reconsidered my position. It’s my place. I should have a say.” He began walking again. “But this woman, Armani, I know she’s your friend, but I don’t know her.”
I resisted pointing out that since he’d been hiding from the entire family for a couple of decades, that he didn’t know any of us, really.
“I understand,” I said carefully. “And this is your home, so if you don’t want her here…” I trailed off, feeling like I was being disloyal to my friend. At the same time, I wanted to respect Herschel’s boundaries, and I knew my family, as a rule, trampled boundaries more easily than people trampled wine grapes.
“Loretta claims that she’s psychic,” Herschel said doubtfully.
I chuckled. Considering that both he and I can talk to animals, I didn’t think it was so hard to believe that somebody could be psychic. “She is.”
Herschel shook his head. “I don’t really believe in psychics.”
As though his doubt had been seen as a challenge to the universe, a pick-up truck came barreling toward us.
“Look out!” I shouted, barely shoving him off the road in time as the truck squealed to a stop less than a yard away from us.
“Worst Uber driver ever,” Armani complained as she slid out of the pick-up, a Scrabble box clasped to her chest. “No tip. Bad rating.”
The driver spun around in a circle even faster than Gino had and sped away.
“Hey,” I said. “You remember my grandfather, Herschel. Herschel you know my friend, Armani.” I knew I was being overly formal, but it felt weird that we’d just been talking about her, and here she was.
Armani ignored my introduction. “I’ve got to talk to you, chica.”
I almost groaned out loud. I knew whatever she had to say wasn’t going to be good.
8
I never got a chance to ask Armani what it was that brought her to me because a piercing scream cut through the air.
“Oh, that can’t be good,” God remarked dryly from his hiding spot.
“You two stick together,” I ordered Herschel and Armani, and then took off at a run toward the screaming.
Since Armani has a bum leg, a result of her unfortunate accident with a Zamboni machine, and Herschel had been recently shot, I figured they could probably move at the same speed. I couldn’t afford to let them slow me down, not that I’m a galloping gazelle myself.
The screaming was becoming louder, and more intense.
By the time I had reached the faded red barn, I was breathless.
I burst into the barn, realizing that it wasn’t a human scream that I’d heard. It was an animal. “What the hell is going on?”
Irma, the donkey, was in her stall, kicking at the back wall with her hind legs.
“Barnyard animals,” God said with disdain. “The dumb ass has no class.”
“Shut up,” I told him, moving toward the beast.
“Irma!” I yelled, trying to get her attention.
She stopped braying long enough to make eye contact with me. I stopped in my tracks, not trusting the wildness of her gaze. I certainly didn’t want her to kick me, too.
“Why don’t you calm down and tell me what’s going on,” I suggested.
“She wants to turn my home into an art studio,” the donkey told me, braying her outrage.
I didn’t even have to ask who the she was. I knew an art studio was Aunt Susan’s particular dream.
“I’ve lived here for years,” Irma said. “It’s my home. And she thinks she’s just going to waltz in and take my space. I’ll destroy this place before I ever let her have it.” For emphasis, she again began to kick at the wall of the barn.
“Stop it,” I ordered. “If you knock the wall down, you’re not going to have a place to stay, either,” I told her.
God scrambled out of my bra and perched on my shoulder so that he could have a better seat to watch the drama unfold.
“I hate her,” the donkey said.
“You don’t even know her. She’s actually a very reasonable person,” I told her, feeling the need to defend my aunt. “I’m sure I can talk to her. We can find another building that she can get set up in.”
Irma pawed at the straw, flattening her ears and sulking stubbornly.
“I’ll take care of this,” I promised her. “No one is evicting you from your home.”
She snorted at me.
I wasn’t sure if that was because she was happy with the outcome or because she didn’t believe me. I didn’t have time to ask her because another voice was demanding my attention.
“You’d better come quick, sugar,” Piss meowed from behind me.
I turned to look at the cat standing in the doorway of the barn. Her hair was raised along her back.
“Now what’s wrong?” I asked.
“The twins are at it.”
“Loretta and Leslie? Or Marlene and Darlene?” Either way, I really wasn’t in the mood to play peacemaker.
“Leslie and Loretta,” Piss revealed, “and poor Templeton has gotten caught in the crossfire.”
“I’ll take care of it,” I promised the donkey and then ran out of the barn and toward the main house.
Piss kept pace with me.
God, holding on to my bra strap like he was going for a bungee cord ride, yelled out, “Kowabunga!”
“No more Saturday cartoons for you,” I snapped.
“I didn’t see that in the cartoons, I saw it in the live action movie,” the lizard retorted.
“Everything okay?” Herschel called out as I sped past him and Armani, who were walking arm in arm down the road. I wasn’t sure which one was helping the other walk, but I didn’t have time to take care of either one of them.
“Have to avert World War Three,” I tossed over my shoulder.
Of course, I almost didn’t make it because DeeDee darted in front of my path. I tripped over her and went sprawling, landing on the ground in an undignified heap.
Ever since I have owned this dog, I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time lying on the ground because of her.
She didn’t seem the least bit upset that she had knocked me over. Instead, she jumped on my chest, her front paws digging into my shoulders, pinning me there.
“Back you are Maggie! Back you are Maggie!” She licked my face enthusiastically.
I shoved her off me. “I told you I’d be back. You didn’t believe me?”
“Time long,” she complained.
“I wasn’t gone that long,” I told her.
“Long too,” she complained. “You missed.”
I scratched her head. “We’ll spend some quality time together soon,” I promised. “Right now, I have to keep Loretta and Leslie from killing each other.”
“Okay,” she replied easily and bounded away.
I slowly got to my feet.
“You okay, sugar?” Piss asked.
“I don’t really know,” I told the cat, shaking out my limbs to ascertain I hadn’t done any permanent damage.
“You didn’t even notice that I fell,” God complained.
“Oh no,” Piss groaned. “Here he goes again about his sensitive skin.”
9
Before I could respond to God, I heard a giant crash come from inside the house.
“What are they doing?” I asked Piss, already moving in the direction of the noise.
“For all I know it’s a battle to the death,�
� Piss complained.
“Halt!” God shouted.
I kept moving.
“You’re forgetting me,” God continued to yell.
I ignored him. I had enough on my mind at the moment. I didn’t need to go back and pick him up. I was sure one of the other animals would take care of him.
There was another crash from inside the house as I threw open the door and ran inside.
“…nobody will!” I heard Aunt Loretta screech.
I hurried toward her voice, not sure what I was going to encounter, but knowing I wasn’t going to like it.
When I reached the living room, I found my aunts, Loretta and Leslie, involved in a physical tug-of-war over a patchwork quilt.
For a split second, I wondered why Loretta, who’s prone to wearing fake eyelashes and stilettos, would have any interest in anything as countrified as a patchwork quilt. It didn’t seem to fit her polished aesthetic.
Templeton was sitting on the sofa, watching the tug-of-war with dismay.
I felt sorry for my aunt’s fiancé. For the life of me, I could never figure out why he stuck around. If I wasn’t biologically bound to this group of crazy people, I would have been out a long time ago.
“What’s going on?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips and giving them my best impression of Aunt Susan’s disapproving stare.
Usually, their older sister could quell this kind of rebellion, I was hoping to be able to do the same.
Neither woman released the quilt, but they both turned to look at me.
“Did you knock over that table?” I demanded to know, pointing to the end table that was lying on its side.
“She did it,” Loretta said, jerking her chin in the direction of her twin.
“She pushed me,” Leslie complained.
I looked at Templeton, hoping that he could provide some sanity in the midst of this bedlam. He shook his head and made a zipping motion over his mouth, indicating he wasn’t going to get involved.
“What are you two doing?” I asked.
“I had the quilt,” Leslie said petulantly. “And Loretta tried to take it from me.”
