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

by Alexie Aaron

  Dave called my cell. “You didn’t give me back my necklace.”

  “It’s mine,” I said and hung up.

  “What I meant to say is, you left the door open,” Dave said from behind me.

  “Did you follow me?” I asked, irritated.

  “No, we live in the same town, Cin. There is only one grocery store,” he said.

  I had to laugh at myself. “Well then, I guess we may run into each other from time to time.”

  “We’re working on the same investigation. We could share information.”

  “Not a chance. You never tell us anything worth anything. Talk to Harry if you have to, but I think we can call you and I finished.”

  “Who was it?” he asked, examining the melons in my basket.

  “Can you ask a clearer question?” I requested.

  “Who popped your post-trauma cherry,” he said crudely.

  “None of your fucking business.”

  “Harry?”

  “Do you hear yourself? Stop molesting my melons before I call the manager,” I said and giggled. “Molest my melons indeed.”

  “Answer me.”

  “No. Harry and I never have and never will cross that line. He’s my son, my partner, my friend.” I walked further down the aisle and began looking at the plum tomatoes.

  “Father Michael.”

  I turned around and my face answered him. He raised his hands and walked away. He was so cute, I had a hard time being mad at him. My phone rang, and expecting it to be him, I said, “It’s none of your business.”

  “What isn’t, Bella?”

  “Sorry, Marco, I thought you were someone else.”

  “I want to make love to you tonight.”

  I pulled the phone away from my face and looked at it. “Why?”

  “You’re beautiful, and I can’t stop thinking of that thing you do…”

  “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to be more clear,” I said, sensing Dave was loitering nearby.

  He told me. I blushed. “Haven’t you moved on? Come on, it’s been twelve hours. What’s wrong, is your black book on the fritz?”

  “Bella, you wound me, yet you know me. Come to see me. I will cook for you. You are too skinny. Let me feed you and then…”

  I walked over to the frozen foods, opened a freezer door, and stood half inside.

  “Marco, do you really want to do this? If you are being held hostage, say banana, and I’ll call the cops.”

  He laughed. “Come, Bella. I am making the sauce now. Be here in an hour. I promise you, I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Would you like me to bring anything?” I mouthed “Bernice” to Dave who was on the other side of the open freezer door.

  “Wine. Red.”

  “Fine, I’ll be there in an hour,” I said.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Marco replied and hung up.

  “You got a date?”

  “Yes, I do. I’m going to sit around with Bernice and gossip about the band. Care to come?”

  Dave shook his head. He followed me to the liquor department.

  “Do you know anything about wine?” I asked.

  “No. But I can read these cards,” he said, referring to the description under the bottles.

  I moved down the aisle to the more expensive vintages. He became suspicious. I picked up a bottle of Château Faizeau Montagne and looked at the card.

  “Cin, that’s sixty-five bucks.”

  “It says it’s a Merlot with violet, blackberry, black cherry and warm spices.”

  “It’s sixty-five dollars a bottle,” Dave said again.

  I picked up two of them just to piss him off.

  I moved on to La Prohibición.

  “Better choice, it’s fifty-five dollars. Why don’t you get three of them?” he sassed.

  “You’re a difficult person to shop with.” I put two of them in the cart. My thinking was to taste each and take the best. I looked at my watch and pushed what I had to the cashier.

  Dave wouldn’t leave, so I had him unload the cart. I’m not an evil woman, but I did enjoy this.

  He carried my groceries to my car, and I put them in the seat beside me. “I’ll give Bernice your love,” I said.

  “I don’t know Bernice.”

  “She knows you,” I said and got in the car. He bent forward, and I thought the guy was going to kiss me. But all he did was fasten my seatbelt.

  ~

  “Harry, taste these and tell me which one is going to go with pasta,” I called, putting one of each on the counter. I took the others into the bedroom with me as I searched for something to wear. I knew, had I put all the bottles on the counter, Harry would have tasted all four.

  I put my Donna Karan outfit on over my best black lingerie. Shoes were going to be a problem. One of the pair I had worn with this dress I’d lost at the biker bar. So I chose the ones I’d worn to the opera. I didn’t know if it was tacky to wear the bracelet he had given me. To me, that seemed needy, but I put it in my purse, just in case he asked me where it was. By the time I had makeup on and my hair tamed, I would be a little late, but weren’t all women? He would expect that.

  I walked into the kitchen. Harry pointed to the sixty-five dollar one. I took his advice.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have a date, but if Buslowski asks, I went to Bernice’s.”

  “With whom are you having a date?” Harry asked, clearly buzzed.

  “Marco.”

  “Really,” he said, amused. “You must have done a number on him. He’s not a repeater.”

  I picked up a bottle and kissed Harry on the cheek. I stopped. “That was weird.”

  “Yes. Go and get laid and leave me alone, I’m taken. I’m going to call Sally and see if she’s up for pool and Merlot.”

  I was so paranoid that Buslowski would follow me that I didn’t drive through town. I skirted the village, going south, and crossed over to the island and drove north. I was five minutes late. I grabbed a bottle and walked into the lobby.

  “I’m here to see Marco D’Amore,” I said.

  “And you are?”

  “Bella,” I said.

  The doorman called up and announced that a Bella was here. “He says to go right up. It’s the penthouse.”

  “Thank you.” I walked into the elevator and started to have second thoughts. I rode it up and stepped out. I thought about turning around and going back down. Maybe I should put the bracelet around the bottle, ring the bell and leave. Classy, no? I was pondering all this when Marco opened the door.

  “Bella,” he said, walking towards me.

  I smiled. “Marco.” I looked at him, and he looked so normal. He was wearing some casual pants and a soft tee.

  “You look beautiful. Come on in. Let me take that.” He looked at the bottle and smiled. “Is this your favorite?”

  “No, but it’s Harry approved,” I said. “I know little about wine. I drink amber colored things. How are you, Marco?”

  “I am touched, Bella, that you care. I’m in a state. I want to finish my meal, but I want to make love to you. Choices.”

  “You are in a state,” I said, taking off my shoes.

  He looked at me funny.

  I looked down at my feet. I lifted one of them and said, “They are clean.”

  He laughed and scooped me up in his arms and deposited me on the couch. “You are a funny woman. You have no pretense. Wait here,” he ordered.

  He left me, and I quickly put on his bracelet. If I was going to be laughed at, may as well be laughed at all the way.

  He returned and handed me a box. It was a shoebox. I opened it, and inside were slippers. They were my size.

  “I am a silly man. I bought these after you lost your shoe at the gala. And then you were, you were gone. I kept them. Please allow me.”

  I lifted my foot and he put on a slipper. It fit. He put on the next slipper, and his hands traveled upwards. My skin was on fire.

  “Oh
, Marco,” I said.

  “I have dreamed of this, Bella,” he said, pulling off my panties. He undressed me slowly. He came to the bracelet and looked at me. His eyes were soft. He made love to me gently on the couch. Afterwards, he held me to him. He smiled as I touched him. I was fascinated by how quickly he responded to my caress. This time, I made love to him. He was vocal and at times spoke in Italian. He seemed to have enjoyed what I was doing very much. He pulled me into the bedroom, and I suspected there must be a blue pill prescription somewhere. No wonder he had so many lovers. He wore them out. Me, I was sated and grateful.

  He leaned over when we finished and kissed me tenderly. “When you were hurt, I cried. I wanted to kill Kyle, but he was already dead.”

  “Marco, Kyle killed me. They brought me back, but I was dead.”

  “Tell me, no, don’t. I don’t want you to be sad.”

  “I’ll tell you because you have been so kind,” I said. I pulled a cover over me because I felt too exposed. I told him every horrible thing. I watched him react, and after I had finished, he put a hand on either side of my face and kissed me long and hard. “I will make it all go away now, Bella.” And for that night he did. He traced the saber wound with his fingers and asked about the fainter silver scars. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted him to know.

  “You tell me next time. Right now, we eat. He pulled out a robe. Somehow I expected it to be a woman’s robe, but it smelled like him. I angled my head and smelled it again. It didn’t evoke the memory of that night, so I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “You are a funny woman.”

  “It smells like you. I love the way you smell.”

  He smiled, his eyes soft. “Come, Bella, I feed you.”

  He did. The pasta sauce was wonderful. “It’s my own recipe,” he said. “The secret is the garlic.” He took a fork and loaded it with pasta and fed me. I closed my eyes and appreciated the taste. I opened them to see him observing me. I blushed. He smiled. The grace with which he fed me contrasted with my ineptitude in wrangling the spaghetti, loading it on a fork, and navigating it all the way to my mouth without dropping it down my front. It didn’t seem to bother him that I was clumsy. He just dipped his finger in my cleavage and rescued the noodle.

  I couldn’t figure him out. On one hand, he was a notorious womanizer - which he didn’t apologize for. But on the other hand, he gave so much of himself. I didn’t mind when he asked for things. He had succeeded in controlling me, and I didn’t care. Did it bother me that he was married or would soon move on to someone else? It would have bothered Cin, but Bella? No.

  Speculazione

  Tony asked me to come in and identify my panties. Could anything get more humiliating than that? I drove over to the Sheriff’s Office and waited in reception until Tony came down for me. He smiled when he saw me.

  “You look good,” he said.

  “I’ve had some rest and some sun,” I said. “I’m at your disposal.”

  I followed him past Buslowski, who turned around and looked at me with amusement.

  “I see you two are friends again,” Tony said.

  “He helped me pick out some wine. That’s all.”

  “How’d he do?”

  “He fell apart when I picked up an expensive bottle.”

  Tony laughed. “Wait here,” he said.

  I didn’t want to sit down, but the impulse of looking in his desk drawers was too great, so I made myself sit down.

  Sally came in and sat down next to me. “Harry and I loved that wine,” she said. When I told Buslowski about it, he gave me the oddest look. He asked how many bottles you left us. I told him three. He asked where the other bottle went, and I told him you took it with you. Then he asked what time you got home…”

  “I bet you cracked under pressure.”

  “Yes, I did. I told him you didn’t come home before I left.”

  “When did you leave?” I asked her.

  “Three.”

  “Oy,” was all I said.

  Tony came in with the evidence bag, and I shuddered before I got ahold of myself. Sally was a dear and put her arm around me. “Cin, it’s just laundry,” she said.

  “Yes, Tony, Detective, they are my panties.”

  “Thank you, Cin.”

  “Tony, how are you coming on the investigation?”

  “Carlos confessed to aiding and abetting in your kidnapping. We don’t have the murderer yet.”

  I left the office. Dave was standing beside my car. I tried to open my door, but he kept shutting it.

  “You’re being immature. Do I have to go in there and ask for you to be removed from my automobile?”

  “Tell me who the wine was for,” he demanded.

  “I don’t have to tell you anything,” I said, laughing.

  “Where were you last night? And don’t tell me you were with an eighty-year-old until after three in the morning.”

  “You don’t know Bernice.”

  “But Tony does. She is so delightful to talk to,” Dave said smugly.

  “She’s a peach,” I said, waiting for the other shoe to fall.

  “She confirmed that you two were drinking wine, and you fell asleep. She got up at her normal time to take her thyroid pill and sent you home.”

  I owed this woman a bottle of wine. “So you’re at my car because?”

  “I don’t believe her.”

  I started laughing. “If you put as much energy into this case as you do tracking down a bottle of wine I bought, then I’d be seeing Kyle’s killer caught. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m meeting Harry at Macy’s, and we are going to smell cologne together.”

  He walked off but came back. He scrunched up his face, and then his eyes popped open. “The scent. You smelled it in the workshop. I thought it was turpentine.”

  “No, I know what turpentine smells like. I also know what Marco smells like, and it wasn’t him.”

  Buslowski’s face clouded. “I don’t like him.”

  “Not many men do,” I said, getting in the car and starting it. I put the top down as Dave was now sitting on the hood of my car. “Get your ass off my car.”

  “I’m coming.”

  “No. Okay, get in.”

  He sat down and put the seat back as far as he could.

  “Put on your seatbelt, Lieutenant,” I ordered.

  He buckled it, smiling. He flipped open his phone and called in his location.

  “That’s right, I’m going to Macy’s, Sally, to smell cologne. What do you mean it’s about time?” He put his phone back in his pocket.

  I drove to Macy’s.

  “What did you bring him for?” Harry asked.

  “He wouldn’t get off the hood of my car.”

  “He would have if you started driving,” Harry said.

  Dave looked over at him and frowned.

  I started by picking out Marco’s cologne. L’Homme Sport by Yves Saint Laurent. “Anything that smells similar to this, I don’t want to smell,” I instructed the salesman. “The smell I’m looking for is distinct. It had patchouli and ginger tones.”

  After a nauseating hour of smelling cologne, his colleague behind the perfume counter got involved. She wafted a scented card past my nose, and I did a tail dive. Kyle stood before me.

  “What is that?” I asked, holding on to the counter.

  “Rose Anonyme,” she said. She sprayed Buslowski.

  I closed my eyes, and he walked by me. “That’s it. I know that’s it. Please excuse me. I need a bathroom.” I was directed to the nearest one, and I ran there. I made it just before I threw up. Kyle was there with me. “We’re close,” I told him. “I know it’s Preston. Maybe this will get us closer to proving it. Can’t you help me?” I asked the hallucination. He simply smiled.

  I walked out and found Harry waiting for me outside the bathrooms.

  “Dave’s scrubbing his neck,” he said. “Well, that ends one mystery. The killer wore Rose Anonyme. Are you sure it couldn’t have been a woman?�
�

  “I don’t know anymore,” I said. “I was so sure it was Preston. Maybe he wears it?” I asked no one in particular. “Can you give Buslowski a ride back to the office? I’m not feeling so well.”

  “Sure. You better escape now.”

  I walked quickly to the parking garage. I stopped and realized I had walked this way before. I looked around. “Damn you, Sidney,” I said as I realized this was the last place I’d seen my former lover. I was getting quite a sense overload. I walked into the garage and got in my car. I carefully drove it out, stopped at the curb, and opened up the top, taking in the air.

  Buslowski hopped in the car.

  “Damn it. Harry was supposed to take you back,” I said. Harry ran out, and I just shook my head. I looked over at Harry and waved it was okay.

  “What happened in there?” he asked.

  “The scent brought it all back, and I got sick.”

  “You need help.”

  “I’m getting help. I need you to stop whatever you’re doing.”

  “Then tell me who you fucked when I wouldn’t.”

  “No.”

  “Then you’re stuck with me. Might as well feed me,” he said.

  “I just vomited in there. I’m taking you back,” I said and sped off towards the sheriff’s headquarters.

  “How are you doing?”

  “This weekend, quite well. Today, not so much.”

  “So who are you dating?”

  “Not you.”

  “Cruel woman,” he said. “Who?”

  “Marco D’Amore took me to Carmen.”

  “And…”

  “What do you want from me? I don’t exactly rack ’em and stack ’em. Although that does sound like a good idea.”

  “That’s what D’Amore does.”

  “Well, bully for him. It’s a great idea. It’s a man’s world. If I did that, I’d get a very bad reputation. Or would I?” I pondered aloud. I pulled into the lot and right up to the door. “Get out.”

  “I’m going. See you later.”

  “No later. See you never,” I said and drove off. My phone rang, and I pulled over to answer it. I didn’t want Buslowski to pull me over and bust me for driving while talking on the cell phone.