Unforgivable Cin An Opera in Three Acts (Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries Book 5)

by Alexie Aaron

  That’s how Dave found me, on the unmade bed, surrounded by the open coffins of my long departed shoes, with pieces of cardboard in my hair. He waded his way through my organization project and sat down on the bed.

  “Looks like you’ve had a hard day, dear.”

  I flushed with embarrassment. “I was looking for a pair of shoes, and… well… Let’s not go there,” I said.

  Dave got up, walked over to the closets and looked inside. “I could put your whole car in this closet. Look at all those shoes.”

  “There really aren’t as many as it seems. Most of those boxes are empty anyway,” I confessed. “I can’t seem to wear out a pair of shoes.”

  “I think we have a few in evidence lockers,” he said thoughtfully. He picked up a pair of shoes. “You look really hot in these.”

  “Hot eh?” I said, patting the bed.

  “Oh no, I’m just stopping off to ask you if you would like to go out with me this evening?”

  “I would love to.”

  “Wait, you haven’t asked where we’re going yet.”

  “Dave, where are you taking me?”

  “To the opera.”

  “No.”

  “Cin, you have to show your face there with your real boyfriend in tow.”

  “Kyle’s conducting. Aren’t we poking the bear, Dave?”

  “I do confess, I would like to punch Kyle’s lights out, but my superior officer warned me not to.”

  “I hate operas.”

  “Me too.”

  “Then why are we going?”

  “We’ve officially reopened the missing persons case on Eldora Capella.”

  “And how is my suffering through Don Giovanni going to help us find Eldora?”

  “The dresser, the baritone, and the first soprano were in the last production that Eldora was in when she disappeared, and they are in tonight’s Don Giovanni.”

  “I’m impressed, detective, or should I just call you dick?”

  Dave pointed his finger at me and said, “Be nice.”

  “How did you find all this out?”

  “Preston.”

  “You and Preston have become chums, have you?” I asked, curious.

  “No, but my dating you didn’t hurt. He’s costuming the production and will be there on opening night. He’s invited us to the after party and has given us tickets.”

  “So we have to sit through the opera first.”

  Dave laughed. “What is it with you and opera?”

  “She says it’s the rabid chauvinism,” Harry said from the doorway, holding up a suit bag. “I was washing my jeep, and someone drove up and handed this to me. I peeked inside, and since green is not my color, I imagine it’s yours.”

  I got up and slid on two box tops. Dave saved me from cracking my head on the open door. I grabbed the bag and, with as much dignity as I could muster, made my way into my closet where I hung up the bag and unzipped it. “It’s not mine,” I said, pulling the Roberto Cavalli floor-length, green dress out of the bag. I held up a dress that only had one long sleeve and a silver asp winding its way to the high slit. “Did you do this?” I asked Dave.

  “No, I can’t afford the dry cleaning on that,” he admitted.

  “Preston, I think. It’s my size, and the slit will expose the tattoo. I’m starting to feel like bait,” I complained.

  “You’re starting to smell like it too. Hit the shower,” Harry said.

  I gave him the death stare.

  Dave looked at me and Harry and back at me. “Are we going?” he asked.

  “Will you buy me an ice cream after?”

  “Yes, two scoops,” he said, smiling.

  “I’m in.”

  “I take it, I’m not invited,” Harry pouted.

  “Kyle is conducting,” I said.

  “I didn’t want to see Don Giovanni anyway,” he said, stomping off.

  “He’s not happy,” Dave said. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave. I have a mountain of paperwork and my tux to pick up.”

  “You have a tux?”

  “I do now.”

  “Rental?”

  “A gift from Preston.”

  “That may be a bribe, dick,” I warned him.

  He swept me into his arms and kissed me soundly before leaving me weak-kneed. “You do smell like bait,” he said over his shoulder. “Be ready at seven-thirty.”

  I raised my arm and sniffed. I did smell like bait.

  Carmen

  Dave timed our arrival to coincide with the first flashing of lights warning the stragglers to head to their seats. He walked me down the long center aisle. I heard gasps and whispers as I turned to walk down the row to our prized seats.

  “Isn’t that…”

  “Who is she throwing in the maestro’s face tonight?”

  “She still wears the ivy tattoo. Oh, how Eldora would have enjoyed this…”

  Dave assisted me with my gown before he sat down. He grabbed my shaking hand, leaned in and said, “You are the most beautiful woman here tonight.”

  I squeezed his hand. “And the most envied. You take my breath away.”

  He took a moment and searched my face as if looking for the truth. His eyes watered a moment before the trained investigator took over. He smiled and sat back.

  Kyle walked out to the center stage which was a bold and unusual move; most conductors stay in the orchestra pit. He was wearing a tux with his signature skinny black tie. Kyle acknowledged the audience’s applause. His eyes locked on me as the platform lowered, and he entered the orchestra pit. The house lights dimmed, and I felt relieved that I could no longer be seen. In moments, the music started. I sighed and did my best to concentrate on the music, leaving the opera to those who loved it.

  Dave insisted that we leave our seats at the intermission. “The show must go on,” he said, smiling. He escorted me to the ladies’ room, informing me that he would get me a drink and not to be too long. This was Buslowski speak informing me that I couldn’t hide in the washroom.

  I walked over to the large mirror and retouched my makeup. At home, I had followed Noelle’s Skyped instructions, which had me covering the bruise while discovering cheekbones at the same time. I smiled wickedly at myself, took a deep breath, and exited the room and went in search of Dave.

  “Pardon me, bella signora, for being so bold.” A handsome, tall man of sixty-some years stepped into my path. “I am Marco D’Amore. My mistress Leora would like to know who has gowned you?” His dark eyes twinkled.

  “Roberto Cavalli,” I said, bored. “It is too hot for Florida though.” I did an Angelina Jolie and stuck my leg through the slit, but instead of posing, my shoe popped off. “Damn,” I said as the shoe fell away from my foot.

  “Allow me, bella,” the man said, getting to his knees. I put my hand on his strong shoulder as he slid the shoe back on my foot. “There.”

  “Thank you for being my knight, Marco. Call me Cin,” I said, holding out my hand.

  Marco kissed it, and as he returned to his feet, a temperamental young blonde woman, dressed expensively, stomped over and pulled him away. He stopped and disengaged her hand from his arm. He turned and looked back at me as if to memorize everything about me. He turned back and spoke quietly to the young woman.

  I smiled mischievously, locking eyes with Dave who shook his head, clearly amused. I walked over to him. He handed me a glass of expensive bourbon. “Thank you, my beloved.”

  He leaned in and whispered, “And the Oscar goes to…”

  I laughed as if he had said something untoward. I took a sip and let him guide me through the throng to a quiet corner.

  “I heard the most interesting gossip at the bar, bella,” Dave said, emphasizing the Italian’s elegant term of address for me.

  “Do tell,” I said, taking a rather large sip.

  “I heard a sad tale of a baby diva who is going through men like they are wine. She likes them young but has recently been seen on the arm of an older man, obviously she
has moved on to money.”

  “Obviously,” I said, smoothing the lapel of his tux. “Is there a better aphrodisiac than money and power?”

  “That Italian…”

  “Marco D’Amore?”

  “Yes, D’Amore owns a great deal of South Beach and is a patron of the Palm Beach Opera.”

  “And how would you know this? I never took you for a gossip-sheet reader.”

  Dave glared at me.

  “Go on.”

  “He’s here with his mistress. Leora is the daughter of the lead soprano.”

  “It seems so sordid. I wonder if she was the bargaining chip, or perhaps the prize?”

  “No, you are the prize,” Dave said, sipping the last of his drink and encouraging me to finish mine.

  The whiskey had eased the tension from my shoulders. By the time we walked back to our seats, I didn’t care that several sets of eyes were watching me. I looked towards the box seats, and there sat Marco D’Amore. His mistress was notably absent. He smiled at me. My heart pounded in response. Dave cleared his voice, breaking the spell. I walked in and sat down.

  He put his finger under my chin and turned my head towards him. “Do I have to worry about you tonight?”

  “Yes. There is an interested Italian to the left of me and an angry conductor to my right. Am I overplaying this?”

  “So this is an act?” he asked.

  “It’s why we’re here. I’m the bait, remember?”

  The lights dimmed. He sat back. I closed my eyes, sensing that I had enjoyed Marco a bit too much for Dave’s comfort.

  The audience seemed to love Kyle’s rendition of Don Giovanni. He garnered more applause and attention than the principal players. I wasn’t going to rise with the others to honor the conductor, but Dave had grabbed my elbow. Perhaps he too noted the dangers of poking the bear. Kyle looked at me, and I nodded my head slightly which brought a large smile from the young man. Shit, what was worse? Fanning the flames or pouring oil on them? I clung to Dave’s arm as Kyle’s face changed from happiness to hunger.

  I sat back down and waited for the crowd to lessen before we would make our way to the lobby and then on to the banquet room for the party.

  “Can’t we go home now?” I asked Dave.

  “Are you tired, bella?” he mocked.

  “I have this bad feeling, as if cards have been dealt, that no matter how I play them, I’m going to lose.”

  “We have picked up a lot of intel, but Preston is counting on us to arrive at the party. He is going to watch the principal players to see their reactions to you.”

  “I see you have hatched quite a plan between the two of you. I’m surprised.”

  “Cin, I used to have quite a different job before I came here.”

  “Do you miss it?” I asked. “Do you want to go back?”

  “Some days I do.”

  He helped me to my feet, and we lazily made our way to the lobby. I didn’t turn around and look at the stage. I knew Kyle stood there in the wings looking at me. I could feel the hate.

  ~

  “Diva, I am so glad you came,” Preston said, taking my hand and guiding me away from Dave. I have so many people for you to meet.”

  “The costumes were fantastic. For me, they were the best part of the opera,” I said honestly.

  “Come on, give the boy wonder his due. It was a fabulous opera,” Preston said loudly. “I heard that you met Marco.”

  “How?”

  “The gossips had my ear moments after Prince Charming put the glass slipper on your foot. Excellent move, diva.”

  “Was he around when Eldora was here?”

  “Yes. He was one of her lovers. A favorite, if memory serves me.”

  “I bet there isn’t anything you have forgotten… But I have. Thank you for the loan of the dress.”

  “Oh no, that is a gift. Roberto owes me a favor. You look stunning in it.”

  I blushed.

  “You’re not used to this, are you, diva?”

  “No. I’m but an ensemble player, hardly a diva,” I admitted.

  “You want me to believe that you landed that man by being meek?” Preston said, pointing at Dave.

  “I got him blown up,” I replied.

  There was a taped fanfare playing in the speakers.

  “Oh no, now it starts. Cin, remember, do not leave this room alone, especially with Kyle,” he cautioned.

  I followed his gaze. The principal players and conductor entered the room. Kyle acknowledged the smattering of applause before walking directly over to me.

  “You look beautiful tonight, Cin.”

  “Thank you, Kyle. Your opera was inspired.”

  “Don Giovanni and I were a good fit.”

  I smiled. If I didn’t already know the man before me was evil, I could have enjoyed this conversation. As it was, my stomach was clenched.

  “Why is it that your pupils are always so large?”

  “Poison. I survived a spray of the poison of the Datura flower.”

  “Who would want to do something so horrible to you?” he asked, his voice edged with sarcasm.

  “I ask myself that every day. Now, if you would excuse me…”

  “I do not.” Kyle reached for me.

  A hand turned me away quickly. I had expected Dave had come to my rescue, but Marco stood before me. He smiled knowingly.

  He looked over at Kyle and said, “Kyle, you cannot monopolize bella all evening.”

  “No, patron, how silly of me,” Kyle said and left.

  “Thank you, Marco. Once again you have come to my aid,” is what I said. What I thought was, “Where the hell is Buslowski?”

  “Tell me about this ivy,” Marco asked, indicating my exposed leg.

  “I was costumed at the gala. The tattoo came with the dress,” I said laughing. “The joke is on me, however, because it doesn’t come off.”

  “Still, it suits you, like it did her…”

  “I’m sorry, who?”

  “Eldora Capella. Surely you know her?”

  “I’m sorry, the world of opera is mysterious to me. I just stepped in to help out. My playground is very different, I assure you.”

  “It doesn’t have possessive conductors in it?”

  “Very few.”

  “Ah. I confess to having seen you at the gala, bella. I saw Kyle romancing you on the stage. I wanted to be him.”

  This is where I was asking myself, “How the hell do you respond to that?” I just looked at Marco, trying to think of a response.

  “Your stare unnerves me, bella.”

  I tilted my head. “I’m sorry, it was unintentional. Do you forgive me, Marco?”

  “I would if I thought you meant it, bella,” he said. “You are not a naïve child, but a ripe woman who is used to having her way.”

  “How can you judge me? You don’t know me,” I spat. I turned around and walked through the crowd, snagging a flute of champagne on my way. I looked for a friendly face, and although there were many silent invitations given to me, none were where I would be vertical for long. I sighed and looked for some place to sit and catch my breath.

  “Cin, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Ryan approached me from the side.

  “I didn’t either. My date insisted,” I said. “I’m looking for someplace to sit down. How can a banquet hall have no chairs?”

  “Come, there is an alcove with a few seats.” Ryan held out his elbow, and I took it. He led me past the bar and over to where a small room had been sculpted out of the main room, adorned by ceiling-to-floor curtains. There was an upholstered bench with throw pillows made of the curtain’s material scattered along it.

  I sat down and took a sip of the champagne and wrinkled my nose.

  “Not to your taste?” Ryan asked, watching me.

  “No, I’m not a wine person. I like amber things, whiskies, bourbons…”

  “I shall get you one, and then we need to talk.”

  “Fine,” I said.


  I sat back and crossed my leg. It was a big mistake as my skirt split and I found myself bare to my panties. I grabbed at the skirt and uncrossed my legs quickly, but I had caught the attention of the lead baritone, a very drunk Pello Viteri.

  “What have we here?” he said in a husky whisper. “It is a present half-wrapped.”

  I stood up. “Pardon me.” I started walking and found myself outmaneuvered.

  He was a large man but very light on his feet. He walked me backwards into the wall. Pello looked down at me. “What’s the rush?”

  “Please, I’m with someone.”

  Pello ran his hands over me.

  “She said, she was with someone,” Kyle barked as he pulled Pello off of me. “Come, Cin, you have been playing me for a fool for too long.”

  I didn’t have much choice. Kyle’s fingers dug into my arm as he pulled me out of the alcove and through the nearest doors. He grabbed my bag out of my hand before I could get to my cell phone. I was unfamiliar with where I was in the opera building. Only the night lighting was on. I was pushed into a dark office, and the door was kicked shut behind us.

  “Please, Kyle, don’t hurt me,” I said as he picked me up and slammed me into the wall. He took ahold of the fabric of the dress and ripped upwards. He lifted me up, and I knew there wasn’t a graceful way of getting out of this, so I bit him hard on the neck, drawing blood. He backed off, dropping me. I crawled away and got to my feet, making for the door. I made it into the hall and started running for the blurred exit sign. I hit the door but found it chained.

  “Who chains an emergency exit?” I cried.

  I heard footsteps and panting behind me. I ran for where I was sure there was another exit. To my horror, I got turned around. I backed into a dark open room. I smelled paint. It was a workshop of some kind. I had made the middle of the large room when the lights went on. Kyle stood there in the doorway, smiling. “I’m going to make love to you, and then I’m going to choke the life out of you,” he said.

  My eyes searched the tables for something to defend myself with. There were prop swords and spears, but they were stacked against the far wall. Kyle strode forwards and the lights went out. I dropped to the floor and made myself small under the table. There was the sound of something heavy hitting the table, and it was flipped backwards, the edge hitting me hard on the top of the head. I saw white but managed to keep my wits. But I soon wished otherwise as Kyle’s hand caught my foot and pulled me towards him. “You’re mine, you bitch,” he growled. Kyle wrapped his black tie around my throat and pulled.