by Libby Klein
I put the Teen Center document on top of the stack. I’d return it to Brenda when I saw her later. But now, I had to talk to Judy. I saved the information to my hard drive just in case I would need it later as part of Aunt Ginny’s defense. Then I took out the flash drive and put all the items back in the folder while I called the office.
“Freeman and Furman, Judy speaking.”
“Judy, it’s Poppy.”
Judy started whispering into the receiver. “Hi, did you look at the papers?”
I whispered back, “I did, and I think you’re right. Something doesn’t add up.” Why am I whispering? “I think we need to show this to Ken. Could I come in this morning and—?”
Judy cut me off. “No way. You can’t come back here. Ken was furious the other day. He said to call the police if you even step foot in the building.”
“Well, that’s not fair. What if I want a hoagie from the deli?”
“I suggest wearing a disguise.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to give you the papers and you can show them to Ken.”
“What? Me? I don’t know what I’m looking at. I only know that Brody had those papers to prove he didn’t steal any money.”
Ah, Judy, ever the optimist.
“I need you to do the talking, Poppy. We need to come up with a way to get you in front of Ken without him going berserk and poking your eyes out.”
“Yes, that would be preferable.”
“How about your boyfriend? Could he do it?”
“I can ask him.”
“Good. I’ll put an appointment for a Mr. Nesbitt down on the schedule for two o’clock this afternoon. That’s right after Ken returns from lunch. He’ll be in a better mood after he has his green smoothie.”
“His what?”
“You know, spinach, kale, algae. That sort of thing. He drinks it every day.”
“Eww. That must be why he’s so angry all the time.”
Judy laughed, then remembered she was supposed to be whispering. “Two o’clock. Remember, your boyfriend’s name is Mr. Nesbitt.”
“I’ll tell him.”
*
I was running late to Momma’s for the baking, but I knew what I had here was important. If Kylie killed Brody to cover up her embezzlement, this could be the evidence that got the anklet off of Aunt Ginny.
Speaking of the resident convict, I wondered how things were going downstairs.
Sawyer was sitting in the library texting someone, and smiling to herself.
“Where’s Aunt Ginny?”
“She said she was going to her room to knit.”
“Knit?”
Sawyer’s eyes grew big as revelation dawned on her. “Oh no. Not again.”
Before we could rush around looking for her, there was a slow knock at the front door. It was Officer Birkwell with Aunt Ginny. Aunt Ginny was wearing overalls, Smitty’s work boots, Georgina’s hard hat, and dark glasses. She was covered head to toe in mud. Officer Birkwell had his hand on Aunt Ginny’s shoulder and a very weary look on his face.
“What happened?” I asked.
Aunt Ginny replied, “I don’t want to talk about it.” She shrugged out of the officer’s grasp and stormed off to her room.
When she was out of earshot, Officer Birkwell said, “I caught her army-crawling through the back garden while hiding under a laundry basket.”
“I am so sorry. Can I make it up to you by bringing some fresh baked cookies home in a few hours?”
He gave me a weary smile. “I won’t say no.”
Chapter 44
I said a prayer, and against my better judgment left Sawyer in charge of Aunt Ginny. I called Tim from the car and asked if he could help me with Freeman and Furman this afternoon.
“Oh. I, ah, I can’t today.”
“Too busy with the bistro?”
“Um, no. I promised Gigi I’d go with her up to the Blue Claw to source out some crabs.”
“Oh.”
“Can we do it tomorrow?”
“I’m not sure it can wait, but don’t worry about me. I’ll figure something out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah … Yeah … It’s fine.”
“Okay, thanks, Mack. Let’s have a date later in the week. You pick.”
“Sure. I’ll check my schedule.”
Hmph, Gigi. I guess that’s what it means to be just keeping it light. I’ll bet Gigi isn’t keeping it light.
Now what am I gonna do? I don’t want to throw one of my girlfriends to Ken Freeman. He has killer written all over him. That dude needs anger management classes like nobody’s business. I should check with Father Brian to see if there’s a meeting for that at St. Barnabas.
No time to obsess. I had to get some work done today. I walked into the kitchen at Momma’s. She was hand-rolling fresh pasta on a floured worktable. The bouquet of smells from the fresh basil and oregano she was rolling between the sheets of dough transported me back to one summer in Tuscany with John.
“Good morning, Mrs. Larusso.”
She came up to me and spoke low and rambly in Italian. I’m not positive, but I think she was casting a spell.
I gave her a nervous hand pat to the shoulder. “I hope you’re having a nice day.”
She jumped like I’d used a Taser on her. She jabbed a stubby flour-encased finger at my clavicle and a white cloud wafted up from my shoulder. “Bah!”
“Okay. I’m gonna go make some cookies and coffee cake bars now.”
Momma breathed like a bull getting ready to charge.
“All right then. I’m going.” I backed away and over to the pastry station.
Momma went back to kneading dough like Chuck Norris.
Gia had left me a note pinned up on the Hobart.
Bella, come over as soon as you are finished. I have a big surprise for you. XXX.
XXX? As in super sexy XXX? Oooh. No wonder Momma gave me the evil eye. With my luck, she just put a hex on me to prevent Italian men from kissing me.
I got my ingredients sorted for a pan of crumb cake and a full sheet of butterscotch-oatmeal crumble bars. One recipe for breakfast, and one recipe for dessert. While I measured, and creamed, and folded, I wondered what Gia’s surprise could be. He just gave me that beautiful custom-painted KitchenAid stand mixer. I hadn’t even brought it home yet. I definitely didn’t want to bring it in here to Momma’s kitchen.
I glanced back at Momma and gave a timid smile. She growled something that sounded very similar to “burstarici into flameos.” Okay then.
I was far too worried about Aunt Ginny trying to escape house arrest to allow myself to get upset by Gia’s smother today. Yeah, I said smother.
If his surprise was XXX rated, well, I don’t think I’m ready for that. I haven’t dated in over twenty years. I hear that there is a lot of waxing that happens nowadays, and I don’t want to scare anyone. Besides, all we’ve done is kiss a few times. Despite Tim’s declaration of Let’s keep it loose and see other people, I still felt weird kissing both men. I’d lived with the stigma of being a cheater for most of my life. And let me tell you, everyone judges a cheater. The entire country music genre is built on the shame of the cheatin’ heart. Although the thought of Tim out with Gigi today was easing my pain a bit.
Ding ding ding.
Oh my God, it’s Aunt Ginny’s anklet. Oh no, wait. That’s the timer. I took the pan of crumb cake out of the oven and set it on the rack to cool.
One of Momma’s line cooks entered the kitchen. “What smells delicious? Is that cinnamon cake?”
Momma gave him her patented stink eye. “Andarsane!”
He didn’t break stride, just pivoted and walked back out.
I got a text from Sawyer.
Where do you keep your Vaseline?
Why?
No reason.
Look in AGs medicine cabinet.
Got it.
I would find out what that was all about later, I supposed. I took the butterscotch-oatmeal ba
rs out of the oven, set them to cool on the rack, and cleaned up my station.
Twenty minutes later, I was wrestling my conscience, and my nerves, as I crossed the cobblestones to the coffee shop. Gia was standing at the counter completely naked, wearing only an apron. Okay, that didn’t really happen but a girl can dream, can’t she?
Gia was waiting on two young women in painted-on jeans who were shamelessly flirting with him. He poured on the charm. I stood back and watched the spectacle while dealing with a tidal wave of body envy.
One of the girls wanted to put her phone number in Gia’s cell. He apologized and said it wasn’t with him. So she dug through her bag for a pen. Coming up empty, she turned and asked me for a pen.
I handed her mine. My eyes met Gia’s and he gave me a conspiratorial wink. The pretty little size two wrote her number on Gia’s hand, then handed the pen back and said, “Thank you, ma’am.”
I did my best old lady voice. “That’s okay, dearie, just drop the hickey in my bag. My arthritis is acting up som-p’in fierce and I can’t grip anythin’ jus’ now.”
“Oh, okay, sure thing.” She politely returned the pen to my purse, oblivious to my sarcasm.
When they’d left, Gia shook his head and chuckled. “Were you doing Aunt Ginny?”
“What’d ya think?”
“I think you’re evil.”
“So they say.”
He locked the front door and turned the sign to CLOSED. “Come. I have a surprise for you in the kitchen.”
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wouldn’t budge. “You do?”
“Yes, and get ready, it’s a big one.”
I took a deep breath.
“I wanted to give it to you the other day, but it wasn’t up yet.”
Oh God.
He spun around and covered my eyes with one hand. With the other, he led me into the room. “Are you ready?”
“Ah … well, the thing is … Oh. It’s a double oven.”
It was a totally different kind of sexy from the one I thought I was being offered. Gia had installed a cobalt-blue forty-eight-inch Viking dual fuel range. “It’s stunning.”
I moved closer and rubbed my hands down the side. I checked out the ovens, and the proofing drawer. “It’s beautiful. You’re going to love having this.”
Gia grinned. “Not me, bella, this is for you.”
“For me? How?”
“Now you can do all the baking for the shop right here. You don’t have to go to Momma’s anymore.”
I flung my arms around his neck and kissed him. “That may be the best news I’ve had in weeks.”
Gia held me close. “You don’t mind doing the baking here instead of your home? Until your own oven shows up. It should show up eventually, right?”
“I don’t know, the last I heard it was stranded somewhere in the Midwest. Baking here will make deliveries much easier and I won’t have to cart ingredients back and forth from my house.”
Gia kissed me. “I’m so glad you like it. Karla said you would resent me trying to force you to be here every day.”
“What’s that now?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “She, ah. She said if you wanted to be here more often you would be. That if I tried to trick you with this”—he pointed his elbow toward the oven—“that you would resent me pressuring you.”
I tried not to smile. “Are you trying to trick me?”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say trick.”
“What would you say?”
“I would say I’m sweetening the deal.”
I wondered how much of this was prompted by the admission that I had another man in my life. “I see. What if it didn’t work? What if I didn’t want to come in every day to bake?”
His eyes looked like a sad cow’s. “That would be fine. I can’t make you.”
“Okay, now that’s just pitiful.”
Gia’s face broke into a grin and he was back to his sexy old self. He pulled me close. “So, you don’t mind?”
“I’m very excited to come here and bake every day for the near future.”
“Good.” Gia kissed me and I wrapped my arms around his neck. The kiss deepened and I forgot all about Aunt Ginny’s attempts to pry off her anklet. “Do you want to stay awhile, and take the new oven out for her first spin?”
“I’d love to, but I have to find someone to help me with a covert operation.”
“Mia bella, what are you getting into now?”
I pulled the folder out of my bag and showed Gia the printouts. He pulled out a pair of reading glasses and slid them on.
I thought it was impossible for him to get any more attractive, but I was wrong.
Gia smiled. “Go on.”
I took a steadying breath. “The flash drive shows that it was Kylie who actually moved the money, not Brody. The funds were deposited into what I think is a bogus account.”
“What is bogus?”
I giggled. “It means fake. I don’t think the company listed actually exists. I need to get someone to confront Ken Freeman and show him the backup files.”
Gia paged through the ledgers. “How is this connected to Aunt Ginny’s arrest?”
“Brody was accused of embezzling thousands of dollars of clients’ money. He was fired for it, but he was murdered before the auditors could start an official investigation. I’ve been looking at Ken this whole time, thinking he might have killed Brody for damaging his firm’s reputation of integrity, or even possibly out of anger that the Teen Center won the grant that Ken felt the animal shelter deserved.”
Gia’s head bobbed. “People have killed for less.”
“And this guy has some serious anger issues. But here we clearly have files that implicate Kylie in the embezzlement. Now I’m wondering if I’ve been wrong about Ken all along. If Kylie was robbing clients, and framing Brody, she might have killed him to cover it up.”
“Because the dead can’t prove their innocence.”
“Exactly.”
Gia took off his glasses and put them away. He paced the length of the kitchen and back, thinking. “Is it possible that these people stole the money together, and killed Brody to cover it up?”
“An eyewitness did claim to have seen someone resembling Aunt Ginny coming out of the victim’s house the night of the murder. It’s possible that we’re looking for a killer and an accomplice.”
“So, what do you need me to do?”
“You’re going to help me?”
Gia shrugged. “This is no problem. I’ll call Karla to cover the shop.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “That would mean so much to me. This guy is seriously full of rage every time I see him. You need to be careful in there.”
Gia flexed his pecs. “I’ve been working out.”
Oh my, the room is spinning. I’m hearing music.
“Bella. Bella. Your phone is ringing.”
“Oh … hello.”
“McAllister!”
“I’m on my way.” I clicked off. “I have to go to the escape room. Aunt Ginny is wreaking havoc with her anklet again.”
“What is this escape room?”
“My house. Aunt Ginny has already beaten it several times. I’ll explain when I come back to get you at one thirty.”
“I’ll be right here waiting for you.”
I rushed home. Officer Birkwell was standing guard at the front door. His lips were set in a grim line. I handed him a bag of butterscotch-oatmeal bars as a peace offering. His shoulders heaved as he took a deep breath. “Thank you. Good luck in there.”
I steeled myself for what was to come. Sawyer and Aunt Ginny were sitting side by side on the couch in terse silence. Sawyer gave me a strained smile. Figaro sat on the piano bench, his eyes alert and his whiskers twitching.
“Everything okay in here?”
They both answered me. “Yes, sure. Everything’s fine.”
“Why is Aunt Ginny covered in blue paint?”
Aunt Ginny wouldn’t make eye contact. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh-kay.”
Sawyer stood up and grabbed her purse. On her way past me she said, “I was wrong. You’re a saint.” And she shot out the door with a bang.
It looks like I would have to get Aunt Ginny a new babysitter for the afternoon shift, and I needed to find someone fast. My two o’clock meeting was rapidly approaching. If I was lucky, I could put an end to this whole mess this afternoon.
Chapter 45
“Thank you for coming on such short notice.” Kim was one of my best friends from high school, and the most flamboyant and daring of our group.
She took off her military jacket revealing a Hello Kitty T-shirt over striped leggings. “It’s no trouble. I wish I had known sooner what you were going through. I could have helped you look for Aunt Ginny. Rick works nights now, so I’m home all alone with the iguana.”
I tilted my head in Aunt Ginny’s direction. “She’s been very difficult to control. Sawyer may not talk to me again for days.”
Kim chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Isn’t that right, Mrs. Frankowski?”
Aunt Ginny sat on the couch with her arms crossed. She scowled at Kim. “What’s that going down your shoulder?”
“I just came from Island Tattoo. It’s a cherry blossom branch and hummingbirds. Why are you covered in blue?”
“Paint grenade. What did you do to your hair?”
“Chameleon dye. It changes colors in the sunlight. I see you went with the purple.”
“Vo-Tech.”
Aunt Ginny and Kim gave each other an appraising chin nod.
“Okay, well, you two have fun.” I took Kim aside and said, “Don’t let her out of your sight. Whatever she says she is going to do, don’t believe her.”
Kim nodded. “Okay.”
Aunt Ginny stuck her tongue out at me.
Down at the mailbox, Officer Birkwell was debriefing Officer Consuelos at the changing of the guard. I said goodbye for the night to the former, and apologized in advance to the latter. Then I headed back over to the Washington Street Mall to pick up my partner in crime.
