Northwest Cozy Mysteries #1

by Dianne Harman

  Vinny strode across the room and picked up a large white envelope from the top of his walnut writing desk. It contained his wedding gift to Clark and Roz, the deed for a house in the exclusive area of the Queen Anne Hill district in Seattle. Clark’s work assignment in Whistler didn’t have much longer to run, and when they returned from their honeymoon, Vinny wanted them to have a nice home to start their married lives. The house was large enough for the family he hoped they’d have together.

  A long blast from a horn outside the house signaled that Al was getting impatient. Vinny placed the envelope in the pocket of his tuxedo and went outside to where Al was waiting in the sedan with the engine running. When Vinny appeared, Al jumped out to open his car door.

  “I can open my own door, Al,” Vinny said, exasperated. “I’m not a girl.”

  “Yeah, Boss,” Al said, holding the door anyway.

  It was a routine they played out regularly. Although Vinny was Al’s boss, the men had grown up together on the tough streets of Chicago. Al was the same age as Vinny’s older brother Fonzie, who Vinny had worshipped until the day nineteen-year-old Fonzie was killed trying to break up a gangland fight. The day after his brother died, fifteen-year-old Vinny swore that he would get his family out of the projects and make a better life for all of them. Vinny, accompanied by Al, had gone to visit Fingers Gambino, the richest person he could think of, and who owned a dive bar in the neighborhood.

  “I want to work for you,” Vinny had said, when Fingers’ henchmen had finally granted him an audience. He guessed they realized he wasn’t going anywhere, since he’d waited two days outside that crummy bar until Fingers would see him.

  Fingers had laughed. “Why do you want to work for me, kid? You should go to school and get yourself a good job.”

  “That won’t make me rich,” Vinny had said. “I want to work in a bar and be rich like you.”

  “I don’t work in a bar, son,” Fingers had said. “I own the bar.”

  “Right,” Vinny had said, looking the older man straight in the eye. “And I’m not going anywhere until you show me how. Tell me what I need to do.”

  “Get out of here before you get into trouble, son,” Fingers had warned him, but Vinny had stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and stood his ground. He’d just lost his brother, he was scared, and out of options.

  Fingers’ face had softened. “You hungry?”

  Vinny had nodded.

  “You look half-starved. Let’s get you something to eat, kiddo, and you can tell Uncle Fingers all about it.”

  Fingers and young Vinny had bonded over a meal of burgers and French fries, washed down with a soda, which Vinny always remembered as one of the most delicious meals of his life. Fingers had taken a liking to Vinny, and given him a job in the evenings and weekends. Vinny started off sweeping the floor, collecting bottles, and washing glasses, since he was too young to be a bartender.

  After a while, he quit school and became a runner, delivering messages and packages at Fingers’ behest. Vinny never asked what was in the packets, although he suspected it was money. Al went along on the deliveries with him, and never left his side, even when they found themselves in some dangerous circumstances. Vinny and Al were a winning team who proved their loyalty to Fingers, and were rewarded with more money, responsibility, and excitement than either of them had ever dreamed. They lived by a strict code of ethics. The fact that those ethics were on the wrong side of the law didn’t concern either of them at such a young age. By the time they were older and wiser, it was too late to get out, even if they’d wanted to.

  After forty-some odd years in the Mob, Vinny knew he was lucky to still be around. If it wasn’t for Al, he would have been dead long ago. He’d moved to Seattle from Chicago several years earlier to be closer to Clark after Clark’s mother, Vinny’s sister, had died. Clark’s father predeceased his wife, and Clark had no other family.

  Vinny would have retired when he left Chicago, but his Mob connections had persuaded him to bring back the topless bars and prostitution business in Seattle that had pretty much ended when the Colonnas had been indicted and forced out of business. He’d agreed on the condition that Al came with him. Now that he’d just about wrapped that business up, he was ready to start thinking about a normal retirement. Preferably one that involved golf, several vacations a year, and a nice woman he could share his life with.

  “We should talk about taking some time off,” Vinny said from the back seat, as Al snaked the car through the streets of downtown Seattle. The sidewalks were adorned with festive lights. Crowds of pedestrians laden with bags were out in full force, shopping for the holidays. “Hang up our boots. Do you still have that place in the Caribbean?”

  “Sure do, Boss,” Al said as he turned into the parking lot of the church. “It’s my little piece of paradise. You should check it out sometime. I know you like them fancy places like Monaco when you go away, but sometimes it’s the simple things in life that count. Sunshine, a bottle of rum, and…”

  “Good company?” Vinny finished Al’s sentence. Vinny’s steely gaze drifted toward the stylish woman in a blush-colored silk shift dress and jacket who was standing outside the church. It was DeeDee Wilson, the same woman he’d admired at dinner three nights earlier. She was talking in an animated fashion with a younger woman in a faux-fur wrap and a long dress in the same blush-colored shade. Judging by the resemblance, he assumed it was her daughter.

  Vinny was disappointed that by the time he and Al had gotten out of his car and walked toward the entrance of the beautiful old stone building that was the Seattle First Presbyterian church, the women had moved across the parking lot to the white vintage bridal car which had just pulled up. He heard a lot of squawking and squealing from that direction and raised an eyebrow at Al. Women and weddings. He would never understand it.

  A hand jerked his elbow and Vinny instinctively reached inside his jacket for his gun. Al did the same. The men turned in unison to meet the owner of the hand, a not unattractive brunette in a navy suit.

  “Hello, I’m Francesca Murphy, the wedding planner. Please, follow me, gentleman,” she hissed at them. Both men’s hands dropped away from their concealed weapons. “The groom is waiting. Let me show you inside. This way, please.”

  Al, who had removed his sunglasses, rolled an eye at Vinny, who in turn suppressed a laugh. Francesca The Wedding Planner turned and glared at him, and Vinny covered his smile with his hand and started to cough. If things didn’t work out for Francesca in the wedding planning business, he thought she’d make a great interrogator for the Mob. Her death stare would be an asset.

  “There’s something sticking out of your pocket, sir,” Francesca said to Vinny. “Be careful you don’t drop it.”

  “Thanks,” Vinny said, reaching for the envelope. “I wouldn’t want to lose it. It’s my wedding present to the happy couple.”

  “That’s nice of you to give them a check,” Francesca said.

  “Oh, it’s not a check,” Vinny said. “It’s the deed for their new home on Queen Anne Hill.”

  Francesca’s eyes widened. “That’s a very generous gift. They certainly are a lucky couple. I doubt if I’ll get anything that nice when I get married next Spring. I hope they’ll appreciate it.”

  “Oh, I’m sure they will,” Vinny said. “I’d rather give it to Clark now than for him to wait until I’m dead to inherit my estate. Hopefully that will be a long way off in the future, so he might as well enjoy it now.”

  “Of course,” Francesca said, pursing her lips, and continuing the rest of the way down the hallway in silence. The men obediently followed her into a side room where Clark stood waiting along with the other groomsman.

  “If you’ll excuse me, the bride has arrived,” Francesca said in a curt tone. She gave a pointed look at the clock on the wall. It was 3:50 p.m. “See you in ten minutes sharp,” she said, before hurrying off with a frown on her face.

  “This is my friend John,” Clark said. “J
ohn, I’d like you to meet my Uncle Vinny, and his main man, Al.”

  Both men shook John’s hand, and Al beamed at Clark. “You don’t look nervous at all, Clark. It’s great to see you lookin’ so happy.” Al looked across at John. “How ‘bout we give these two a few minutes? See you on the other side, guys.”

  John followed Al out of the room, and Vinny greeted his nephew with a hug and a slap on the back.

  “Al’s right,” Vinny said, wiping a tear away from his eye. “I wish your mama was here to see you today. I’m very proud and honored to be your best man. It means the world to me, thank you. Here, I want to give you this. A wedding gift for you and Roz from me.” He handed the white envelope to Clark.

  Clark hesitated. “You don’t need to give me anything, Uncle Vinny. I’m just grateful for everything you’ve done for me already. We both are, Roz and me. And paying for the wedding and the honeymoon is more than enough of a gift. Really.”

  “Nonsense. You deserve it. Open it later, on your honeymoon. Roz is a great girl. And her sister, DeeDee, has done a lot to help with the wedding. I’d like to thank her properly. Maybe you could give me her telephone number.”

  Clark grinned at Vinny. “You know she has a boyfriend, Uncle Vinny?”

  Vinny smiled. “There’s no ring on her finger, son.”

  Not yet anyway, thought Vinny.

  *****

  Vinny leaned back in his chair at the reception which was being held at The Catch restaurant in Madison Park on Lake Washington. The venue had been chosen by DeeDee, the bride’s sister, and Vinny thought she had impeccable taste. Situated in an area of old mansions and wealth, it was a popular place for wedding receptions. It didn’t come cheap, and Vinny was picking up the tab, but it had been worth every penny.

  The thirty or so tables seating ten each, which had been decorated beautifully with floral centerpieces of orchids and set with fine silver at the start of the dinner, were now strewn with wine glasses as the party got into full swing. Vinny had instructed the restaurant that there was to be an open bar for the entire evening, although he never drank alcohol himself. He preferred to have the full use of his faculties at all times.

  After the speeches, Clark and Roz had led the dancing with their first dance together as a married couple to Van Morrison’s ‘Brown-Eyed Girl,’ and the guests had been dancing to the sounds of the band ever since. Vinny had even taken a spin around the dance floor with Roz and officially welcomed her to the family, before sitting down again.

  Now, Vinny was watching DeeDee slow dance with the man that he assumed was her boyfriend. As he recalled, Clark had said his name was Jake. They looked to be having lot of fun together.

  “You decidin’ whether to cut in?” Al asked him.

  Vinny nodded. “Not much gets past you, Al, does it. I was considering it, but it looks like nothing could pull those two apart tonight.”

  “I’m sure we could think of somethin’,” Al said, cracking his chunky knuckles.

  “Not tonight, Al.” Vinny chuckled, “but you’re right, I’ll have to think of something. It’s getting past my bedtime. Let’s leave the younger party animals to it. I just want to speak to Clark, then I’ll meet you outside. I won’t be much longer.”

  “Sure thing, Boss,” Al said, standing up. “I’ll start the car.”

  Vinny looked around for Clark, who was no longer on the dance floor. The bride was leading a locomotion dance train around the room with her girlfriends.

  “Leaving so soon?” said a woman’s voice in Vinny’s ear.

  Vinny turned. He forced a smile. “Theresa, how lovely to see you again.”

  Theresa Larkin, the wife of his first cousin, Cecil, stood with her arms folded beside his chair.

  “Isn’t it just,” Theresa said. “That was quite some toast you gave earlier. It had me all choked up.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Vinny answered. “I meant every word. Clark’s a great guy, and he’s met a lovely woman to settle down with. I’m sure you’re very happy for them too.”

  “Of course,” Theresa said through gritted teeth.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see the man himself. I want to have a word with him before I leave. Goodnight, Theresa. Do give my regards to Cecil. I hope to see you both soon. Dinner, perhaps? On me, of course.”

  Vinny stood, straightened his jacket, and nodded at Theresa. He turned and walked across the room towards Clark, who he’d spotted standing at the bar with John.

  “Uncle Vinny,” Clark beamed. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. Everything is superb, don’t you think? It’s been a great day from start to finish. I want to thank you again for your part in it.”

  “No thanks are necessary, Clark. It’s been my pleasure.” Vinny gave his nephew a warm smile. “You put that envelope I gave you somewhere safe, right?”

  “Yes, Jake has all of the envelopes for safekeeping.”

  “Good,” Vinny said. “I’m going to duck out the back way to get away from that awful woman, Theresa Larkin. Al’s waiting with the engine running for a quick getaway. Give my love to Roz, and I’ll see you both when you get back.”

  The men shook hands and Clark pressed something into Vinny’s palm. Vinny walked through the side doors of the restaurant into the gardens, and peered at the business card in his hand.

  DeeDee Wilson. Deelish Catering.

  He turned the card over, and there was DeeDee’s phone number on the back.

  With a smile, Vinny pulled a fat cigar out of his pocket and lit up. Heading in the direction of the lake, he puffed the cigar and blew out a ring of smoke, thinking about Theresa Larkin. Did she really think he hadn’t seen her look of anger when he’d said during the toast about how proud he was of Clark? When he’d referred to him as the son he’d never had and told everybody at the reception that Clark was his sole heir? Theresa’s face had turned red, and she’d ranted in Cecil’s ear throughout the rest of Vinny’s speech.

  Vinny walked across the wet grass. The expanse of Lake Washington glistened in the moonlight. The snap of a twig caused him to pause. He hadn’t stepped on one, so there must be someone else there…

  Before he could turn, he felt the cold steel of a pistol being pressed into the back of his skull. The gun pushed him forward, and he kept walking, as slowly as possible, stalling for time. He wasn’t sure how long it would take Al to get there, but Al had never let him down yet. He puffed on the cigar, maybe the last one he’d ever have.

  As Vinny’s life flashed before him, he thought of all the people who might want him dead. There had been many over the years, mostly from the Chicago or Seattle Mafia. Or perhaps even someone he knew better than that? Clark was his sole heir after all, and had a lot to gain from his death. Or maybe…

  “Keep walking,” said the voice holding the gun, jabbing it into his back and pushing him farther toward the edge of the lake. It took Vinny a moment or two to place the voice, but by then it was too late.

  Two shots, muffled by a silencer, and a push into the water, and Vinny Santora was gone.

  CHAPTER 1

  Sean Meade walked down the path of his small unkempt garden to the mailbox at the end. The weeds that had grown during the summer months while he’d been away working in Whistler had long since died, leaving brown clumps in between the cracked paving stones. Soggy, rotting leaves lay piled up on the lawn, having never been cleared during the Fall. Sean sighed. He had a short vacation that he was spending at home in Seattle before heading back to the engineering project he was working on in Whistler. The last thing he wanted to do while he was at home was lawn and garden maintenance.

  He opened the mailbox, which was stuffed so full that the mail was squashed inside. Lifting out a handful, he noticed most of it appeared to be marketing junk and bills. He saw that he was still receiving his wife Denise’s credit card bills, even though she’d left him almost a year before. There was one item near the bottom of the stack, a stiff, cream-colored envelope, that immediately stood
out from the rest of the mail. He pulled it out and squinted at his name and address which was written on the front in fountain pen in a fancy script. Turning the envelope over, it had a wax seal on the back and the sender details embossed in gold.

  Roz Lawson and Clark Blackstock.

  Sean’s lip curled in disgust. It was probably a wedding invitation to his clean cut co-worker’s wedding to that bubbly girlfriend of his. Ever since Clark Blackstock had been moved onto the same team as Sean for the new high speed ski lift in Whistler, Clark had done nothing but rub Sean’s face in the happy perfection that was Clark’s life. Despite the envy that rankled him when he saw Clark and Roz together, Sean felt smug in the knowledge that their happiness wouldn’t last. Sean had learned that from experience. Five years earlier, before his wedding to Denise, he, too, had thought he was the happiest man in the world, walking on air. The cracks began to show up on their honeymoon, and things went slowly downhill from there. Sean was certain Clark would find out soon enough that marriage wasn’t all hearts and roses.

  “Daddy, daddy,” called a high-pitched voice from inside the house. “I’m scared, daddy. There’s a spider in here.”

  Sean hurried back inside to where his three-year-old daughter, Maddie, stood crying in the hallway. She clutched a doll with matted hair and was trailing a pink blanket behind her. It was that stupid blankie Denise let her take everywhere. No wonder the child had issues.

  “Shh, honey, daddy’s here,” Sean said, dumping the mail on top of the dresser in the entryway and scooping his daughter up in his arms. He held her tight, inhaling her scent. Although Maddie was spending the day with her father, his ex would pick her up later and take her back to Denise’s parent’s house, where Denise and Maddie were staying until the divorce was finalized.

  “Let her stay with me tonight,” Sean had pleaded with Denise when she’d dropped Maddie off with him that morning on her way to work. “I’m only home for a few days, and then I have to go back to Whistler.”