by B R Snow
“Gentlemen, this is Josie, my business partner.”
I heard the words come out of my mouth and found the label I’d given her unsatisfactory. But telling them that Josie was my best friend in the whole world and someone I’d run through fire for was a bit too much of a mouthful, so I settled for business partner.
“You’re the veterinarian,” Lou said, obviously impressed. “The one who performed brain surgery on Jimmy’s dog, right?”
“Guilty as charged,” Josie said, reaching for another piece of bread.
“I’m Lou. How’s the dog doing?”
“We think he’s going to be okay,” Josie said.
“That’s great. He’s a good dog,” Lou said, forcing his eyes off Josie and onto his menu. Then he put the menu down. “I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I forgot the rest of the introductions. “This is Paulie, and he’s the reason we’re sitting here with you at the moment. So I guess I should say thank you, Paulie.”
“You’re welcome,” Paulie said, not looking up from his menu.
“You think you might be able to do a little surgery on his brain?” Lou said, nodding at Paulie. “He could use a tune up.”
“Sure,” Josie deadpanned as she gave Paulie’s head the quick once over. “Bring him by tomorrow morning around nine.”
Lou laughed. Paulie didn’t find it quite as funny and only managed a fake smile.
“Relax, Paulie. I’m just having a little fun with you,” Lou said. “Next to him is Francis,”
“Hi, Francis,” I said, glancing at the large man with tiny eyes that, at first glance, appeared to be closed.
“Francis,” Josie said. “Like the Pope.”
“Yeah,” Francis said, nodding. “It’s my new nickname and sort of an inside joke.”
“Really?” I said, waiting for the punchline.
“You know, just like the Pope,” Lou said. “When you see him, the first thing you do is start praying.”
Lou started laughing, and the other three men joined in. Their laughter could have been genuine, but I was left with the feeling that laughing at Lou’s jokes was part of the job description.
“And on my right is Whispers,” Lou said.
“It’s nice to meet you, Whispers,” I said, smiling at the small man whose eyes kept darting around the restaurant but never seemed to land on anything specific.
Whispers responded quietly, and I had absolutely no idea what he said. I glanced at Josie.
“I got nothing,” Josie whispered.
Lou chuckled and placed an arm on Whispers’ shoulder.
“He’s aptly named, to say the least,” Lou said. “Isn’t that right, Whispers?”
Again, Whispers said something that sounded like a quick burst of wind. Lou listened carefully, then gave up and sat back in his seat.
“Yeah, whatever,” Lou said, refocusing on his menu. “By the way, dinner is on me.”
Our waitress approached, waved to Josie and me, and took our orders. She answered all the men’s questions, which were numerous, and suggested wine pairings where appropriate. She even managed to get Whispers’ order on the first take.
I had no idea how she managed to do that. To me, it sounded like Whispers had mumbled pffffft several times in a row.
“So, how long are you guys going to be in town, Lou?” I said, then flinched when Josie kicked my foot under the table.
“Just another day or two. But the weather has been so good we decided to take some time off and enjoy the River.”
“That’s great,” I said, beginning to frame my next question. I ignored the glare Josie was giving me. “It’s really too bad about what happened to Mr. Calducci.”
“Yeah,” Lou said.
The other three men watched Lou’s reaction and then nodded along sympathetically.
“And Franny,” I said, letting it hang in the air.
Whispers was the first one to snort.
That I heard.
“Yeah, it’s too bad about Franny,” Lou said.
“Did you work with her?” I said.
“Nobody really worked with Franny,” Lou said. “You kinda worked alongside her.”
“Well, you sure didn’t want to work in front of her,” Francis deadpanned.
All four men burst out laughing. Josie and I watched it play out and waited until they finished.
Sorry about that, Franny. Whatever grieving process these men had gone through over your recent demise appeared to be over.
“Any ideas who might have wanted to kill her?” I said, going for casual but probably crossing the line into nosy.
The other three men fell silent and glanced at Lou, waiting to take their cue from his reaction. Lou took a sip of wine and wiped his mouth with his napkin.
“Suzy, that’s a very long list of people. You’d save yourself a lot of time by looking at people who didn’t.”
He said it with a smile, but I could tell I’d touched a nerve. Josie caught it as well and nodded her head at the ladies room. She stood up, excused herself from the table, and waited for me to follow her. We entered and looked around to make sure we were the only ones there.
“An hour ago, you said you felt terrible about asking all those annoying questions,” she said, washing her hands.
“I did. With Howard.”
“Unbelievable. What is it with you? Dial it down and find your off-switch. You do know who these guys are, right?”
“When else will we have a chance like this?” I said casually as I examined my makeup in the mirror.
“A chance to do what? Get shot?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” I said, touching up my lipstick. “We’re just having a quiet dinner.”
“If you want a quiet dinner, then I suggest you let Whispers do all the talking,” Josie said.
Unable to maintain her frustration with me, Josie cracked up. I laughed along.
“He is odd, isn’t he?” I said.
“Just do me a favor. Keep the questions general and whatever you do, don’t suggest that any of them could have been involved.”
“Do you think they were?” I said, glancing at her through the mirror.
“Of course I do. That’s why I’m telling you not to suggest it.”
“Good point,” I said, heading for the door.
We headed back to the table and discovered that our appetizers had arrived. All four men stood, then settled back in, and the six of us ate in silence.
“I like women who have a healthy appetite,” Lou said, obviously impressed with our ability to match him bite for bite.
“Then you’re going to love, Josie,” I said.
“Funny,” Josie said, reaching for another roasted red pepper.
“What did we miss?” I said to Lou.
“Not much. We were just sitting here wondering out loud who might have shot Fatal Franny.”
I choked down the last of a slice of red pepper and took a sip of water.
“And what did you come up with?” I said, beaming at Lou.
“Just the usual suspects,” Lou said, helping himself to a stuffed mushroom.
“What about Calducci?” I blurted.
My question was enough to force Josie to put her fork down.
“What about him?” Lou said, also placing his utensils on his plate.
“Uh, well, since you were talking about Franny, I just thought you could have also discussed who might have been involved in Mr. Calducci’s death.”
“Well, we weren’t,” Lou said.
“Sure, sure,” I said, nodding. “I was wondering about something.”
“You were, huh?” Lou said, studying me closely.
“Yes, I was wondering what impact Mr. Calducci’s death would have on his overall business operations.”
Lou picked up his knife and fork and shook his head as he resumed eating.
“I heard you were a tenacious little thing,” he said, chuckling.
“Really? From who?” I said, glancing at Josie.
&n
bsp; “Don’t look at me,” she said, reaching for the plate of stuffed mushrooms.
“You have a reputation for being a bit of a snoop,” Lou said. “And it’s obviously well-earned.”
“I’m just curious by nature, that’s all.”
“Do yourself a favor, Suzy,” Lou said. “Stay out of this one. Whoever did whatever they did to Jimmy Calducci had their reasons.”
“Do you know what the reasons were?” I said, unable to stop myself.
Lou again set his knife and fork down and took a sip of wine. He wiped his mouth, then looked at me.
“Not that it’s any of your business, no. I don’t know what the reasons were. All I know is that it happened, and we’re going to have to wait and see how things play out.”
“Because there’s a lot at stake for your various businesses, right?” I said, leaning forward and placing my elbows on the table.
Lou shook his head and glanced over at Josie.
“Isn’t there something you can do to control her?”
“I was hoping to learn a few tricks from you, Lou,” Josie deadpanned.
“Funny,” I said, glaring at her.
Lou and the rest of the men did find it funny, and they laughed until our waitress arrived with our entrees. We sat quietly until she had served everyone and refilled our wine glasses. I took a bite of my steak, then started in again.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but it would seem that the death of a man in Calducci’s position would create havoc in his organization.”
“Lou,” Francis said, giving me the evil eye. “She’s putting me off my food.”
“It’s okay, Francis,” Lou said. “I’ll handle this. Just eat.” Then he focused on me. “What exactly can I say that will make you drop this particular subject?”
Whispers uttered something I didn’t get. But Lou did, and a big grin formed on his face as he continued to stare at me.
“Yeah,” Lou said, nodding. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, Whispers?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. I gulped and felt my hand tremble as I reached for my glass of water. I took a sip and made eye contact with Lou. It was obvious his question was a serious one, and I decided I couldn’t back down now.
A note to all the amateur sleuths out there. Be careful what you wish for.
“Uh, okay. Let me see,” I said. “I guess you could start by telling me if you think that Calducci’s and Franny’s deaths are connected.”
“Yes, I do,” Lou said, nodding.
“Do you think that the same person killed both of them?”
“Yes, probably.”
“And do you think their deaths are linked to the issue of who’s going to control Calducci’s operation?”
“Maybe.”
“Really?”
“What part of maybe don’t you understand, Suzy?” Lou said, sipping wine.
“No, I got it,” I said, frowning. “I was just expecting a different answer.”
“Then aren’t you glad you asked the question?” Lou said, chuckling.
Everyone at the table, except me, found his response funny, and I waited for the laughter to subside.
“Are you in line to take over Calducci’s operation, Lou?” I said.
All four men flinched, and I saw Whispers shaking his head at me. But I managed to resume eye contact with Lou who was staring at me hard. I was surprised to see some admiration mixed in with his frustration and anger.
“I’ll keep you posted,” Lou said, softly. “Is there anything else?”
“Just one more question,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“How’s your steak?”
Chapter 22
“Rocco, it looks fantastic.”
I had to agree with Josie. The downstairs bathroom did look great, and apart from the smell of fresh paint, it was a showcase. I couldn’t believe it was same space from a week ago.
“Thanks,” Rocco said, rinsing his paint brush in the sink. “You sure you’re happy with the color?”
“It’s perfect,” Josie said. “I’ve been thinking about painting my bedroom, and that color would look great in there, too. What’s it called?”
“I think it’s called Afternoon Magic or something like that. But I always refer to it as Mobster Sky Blue.”
Over the past week, we’d discovered that Rocco loved to interject mobster references into his conversations whenever the opportunity presented itself. He thought he was funny and his patter was part of his boyish charm. Some of them were funny, most of them made us nervous, but they did serve as a helpful reminder about the background of the man who’d impressed us with his abilities wielding a crowbar and nail gun.
“Okay, Rocco,” Josie said, nodding. “I’ll play. Why is it called Mobster Sky Blue?”
“Because if you get whacked outside on a clear day, it’s the last color you’ll see,” Rocco said. Then he glanced back and forth at us. “Get it?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Josie said, frowning. “Good one. On second thought, maybe I’ll just go with a yellow.”
“How about some lunch?” I said.
“You read my mind.”
“What do you say, Rocco?” I said. “The least we can do is feed you one last time.”
“You talked me into it,” Rocco said, setting the paintbrush aside to wash his hands. “You wouldn’t happen to have any of that eggplant parmesan left, would you?”
Josie shook her head.
“Sorry, Rocco. You’re a day late.”
“Really?” he said, surprised. “That was a big tray.”
“We needed to make room in the fridge for the ziti Chef Claire made,” Josie said, shrugging.
“Yeah, that’s the reason there’s none left,” I said.
We headed for the kitchen, and I poured iced tea for the three of us while Josie grabbed the tray of ziti from the fridge. She cut a huge chunk from it and put it in the microwave. While we waited, I wrote Rocco’s final check and slid it across the island. He glanced at it, smiled, then slid it into his pocket.
“Be sure and let me know if you decide to do any more projects around the house,” Rocco said.
“Will do, Rocco,” I said. “You’re really good.”
“That was nothing,” he said. “You should see me when I really get warmed up with that nail gun.”
He gave me a mischievous grin.
“Rocco, I know you’re joking,” I said. “At least I hope you are. But sometimes the mobster references make me kinda nervous.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I got into that habit hanging around those people. I think I do it because I never want to forget how far I’ve come since I left the life. My shrink says it’s not a problem as long as all I do is talk about it. She calls it an appropriate defense mechanism.”
I raised an eyebrow when he referenced therapy. But the microwave beeped before I could formulate a question and I decided not to try to look under that particular carpet. Josie served us, and we started eating with a vengeance. Chef Claire’s ziti was always better the second day, and, judging by the way we were cleaning our plates, I didn’t like the ziti’s chances of surviving for a third.
“I meant to ask you guys,” Rocco said. “How was your dinner with Lou and his gang the other night?”
I glanced across the island at Josie who paused eating long enough to shake her head.
“How do you know we had dinner with Lou?” I said.
“It’s a small town,” Rocco said, shrugging as he reached for the bowl of salad.
“Dinner was fine,” I said. “Lou’s a piece of work, but he seems to be a straight shooter.”
Rocco chuckled through a mouthful of Romaine.
“I didn’t mean it that way,” I said. “But I imagine he’s pretty good with a gun.”
“He is.”
“But that guy Whispers made me nervous,” I said.
“Yeah, Whispers tends to have that effect on most people.”
; “What’s the deal with him anyway?” Josie said. “I couldn’t understand a word he said all night.”
“Well, Whispers made a decision years ago to keep his mouth shut as much as possible,” Rocco said, refilling our iced teas.
“Does he have some sort of speech impediment he’s embarrassed about?” Josie said.
“Yeah, he had a temporary one a while back,” Rocco said. “But he made a full recovery.”
“What happened to him?” Josie said.
“Nail gun in the tongue,” Rocco said, spearing a forkful of ziti.
“Should I ask?” I said to Rocco.
“No, you shouldn’t,” Josie said.
I decided that the mental picture was enough and refocused on my lunch. Two bites later, another thought popped into my head.
“Lou said that he wasn’t sure that Calducci’s or Fatal Franny’s murder had anything to do with people fighting for control of his operation,” I said.
“Lou’s a smart guy,” Rocco said.
“So, you agree with him?” I said.
“At first, I wasn’t sure. But, yeah, I think I do.”
“Are you saying you know who killed them?” I whispered, my eyes wide.
“No, I didn’t say that at all,” Rocco said. “Why are you always jumping to conclusions like that?”
“Because if she didn’t,” Josie said. “She’d never get any exercise.”
“Funny.”
But it was. And I was forced to endure a long round of laughter.
“But to answer your question, Suzy, yes, I have my suspicions,” Rocco said, helping himself to some more salad.
“Would you care to share your ideas?” I said.
“No. As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one important fact when it comes to the question of who killed Calducci and Franny.”
“And what would that be?” I said, leaning forward.
“It wasn’t me,” Rocco said, beaming at both of us.
Josie snorted.
“I’m going to miss you, Rocco,” she said, patting him on the forearm. “When are you heading back home, anyway?”
“Actually, that’s something I need to discuss with you,” he said, putting down his fork and wiping his mouth. “The lease on my place is up, and I’ve been thinking about making a change. I like it up here.”
