by Peg Cochran
They walked down the sidewalk—Lucille kicking at the dead and dried leaves that had accumulated in the gutter.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know. I like the way the leaves sound when I do that. I always did—used to do that when I was a kid. It drove Angela crazy.”
“Yeah? Well, it’s driving me crazy. We don’t want anyone to hear us, right?”
They turned the corner and finally came face-to-face with Vin’s house. The windows were dark but it looked like the place had been done up real nice for Christmas. Lucille supposed Vin would turn the lights on when he got home.
Lucille tiptoed up to the garage and looked through the window.
“Empty,” she hissed at Flo, who was holding back.
“Where should we start?”
They surveyed the front lawn—there was a fountain in the middle of the yard that was still running, although soon the water would be turning to ice. It already looked sluggish to Lucille.
“Maybe Gabe tucked the money into the statue of the BVM?” Lucille started across the lawn toward the stone statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
There was a well at her feet, and Lucille tossed out the drying autumn leaves and felt around. “Nothing here.”
“How about the fountain?” Flo began to walk toward it.
They both peered over the cement edge of the fountain.
“Nothing,” Flo said in disgust. “What now?”
“He could have hidden it in the crook of one of those trees.” Lucille pointed at the few bare-branched maples that ringed the backyard.
“Okay, let’s take a look. I want to get out of here—I’m cold.” Flo shivered.
“I’ll start at this end and you start down there.” Lucille pointed toward a group of three trees.
She stuck her hand into the crook of the lowest branches of each tree but came up empty.
“Anything?” she called to Flo.
“No. You got any other ideas?”
Lucille looked around. There was a deck in back of the house. The furniture had been taken in, but the barbecue grill was still sitting out. It was one of them charcoal-burning types like she and Frankie had. Sometimes Frankie would grill a couple of burgers for dinner. Lucille would buy the meat, make the patties and take them out to Frankie. Then she’d whip up some side dishes—a little pasta salad, maybe some baked beans—and when the burgers were done, she’d go out and get the platter from her husband. And everyone would applaud Frankie for cooking dinner. Somehow she was just as tired when Frankie cooked dinner as when she did.
“Let’s take a look at the barbecue grill.”
Flo walked over to the deck and mounted the three steps to the top. Lucille was waiting. She had her hand on the cover and whisked it off as soon as Flo got there. It made her feel like a game-show host revealing the sixty-four-thousand-dollar prize.
A bag was sitting on top of the grill. The grill itself was grimy and greasy with food caked onto the metal slats. Lucille thought Vin ought to consider giving it a good cleaning before he started barbecuing again next summer.
“Do you think that’s the money?” Lucille asked, pointing at the paper bag.
“There’s only one way to find out.” Flo reached for the bag and opened it. “Holy cannoli, Lucille, get a load of this.”
Lucille peered inside and whistled. “There must be a couple of thousand dollars in there.”
“Even more, maybe.” Flo closed the bag up again. “Now that we’ve found it, I think we should get out of here. There’s no telling when this Vin guy will come home.”
“I agree,” Lucille said, following Flo down the steps of the deck. “Thank goodness it’s dark out. You’d be a sitting duck in that pink jacket.”
“Yeah,” Flo agreed. “If it had been summer, we’d have had to wait till later. As it is, we’re lucky there’s not much of a moon tonight. Let’s get back to the car. We should probably stick to the shadows over there.” She pointed toward the trees along the property line.
They began making their way across the lawn and had reached the front yard when suddenly they were illuminated in lights as bright as daylight.
“What the . . .” Flo looked around.
Lucille put a hand up to shade her eyes. Vin had spared no expense in decorating for Christmas. Lucille didn’t even want to think about what his electric bill was going to look like come January. Every inch of the house was outlined in lights, with more lights cascading down each side like waterfalls.
Giant spotlights lit up the entire front yard, along with the red-and-white-striped candy canes and life-sized plaster elves flanking the front door. Flo and Lucille were caught smack in the middle of their beams.
“Sheesh, now I know how prisoners must feel when they break out of jail,” Lucille said.
“Yeah, the only things missing are the sirens and the barking dogs.” Flo grabbed Lucille’s arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
Too late. They turned to find themselves facing a couple of guns leveled at them.
Chapter 17
Lucille saw her life passing in front of her eyes—circling the halls of the high school on Frankie’s arm wearing his leather jacket—their wedding and Cousin Louis getting drunk and falling in Mrs. DeStefano’s tray of lasagna—her and Frankie’s honeymoon down the shore and him winning her a stuffed animal at one of them games on the boardwalk—being amazed when she finally got pregnant with Bernadette—then Bernadette being born and growing up.
That last thought brought Lucille up short and the picture of Bernadette standing so close to Benny came to mind.
“What are we going to do, Lucille?” Flo hissed at her.
“You dames ain’t going to do nothing.” One of the men waved his gun at them. “We should have gotten rid of you before now, but our boss is getting soft in his old age.”
The other fellow snickered.
They reminded Lucille of the goons Benny had sent before to scare them. She had to hand it to them, they were doing a good job.
“Think of something, Lucille. I’m not ready to meet my maker. At least give me a chance to put on some lipstick and powder my nose,” Flo said under her breath.
“I don’t think he’s going to care, and I’m fresh out of ideas,” Lucille whispered back.
“Okay, we’re going to take it nice and slow. You gals head toward the car at the curb over there.” The goon motioned toward a dark sedan parked at the end of Vin’s driveway.
Lucille and Flo began walking in that direction. Lucille dragged her feet as much as possible, but then one of the men shoved the barrel of the gun into her back and she had no choice but to pick up her pace.
She still had the paper sack of money in her hands, and she was afraid she was going to drop it—her hands were slippery with sweat. Her heart was beating pretty hard, too. She hoped she didn’t have no heart attack and have to have one of them stints put in like Frankie had done.
They were almost to the car now. Lucille felt her knees begin to shake. Were the goons going to take them back to the Watchung Reservation? No one would hear a gun going off there. She heard Flo utter a choked-off sob, and suddenly she wasn’t scared no more. It took a lot to piss Lucille off, and right now she was really, really pissed off.
How dare these guys threaten them like this? She wasn’t going to take this lying down.
An idea was forming in her brain. She wasn’t the smartest person in the world, that was for sure, but she did know about one thing—the thing the scientists called human nature.
Lucille opened the paper bag of money as quietly as possible. She saw Flo shoot her a look and Lucille shook her head slightly, warning Flo to be quiet.
They were a stone’s throw from the car when Lucille reached into the bag and tossed a big handful of money over her shoulder.
“Whoa,” one of the goons yelled.
Lucille risked a glance behind her and saw the two men chasing the bills that were skittering across the lawn in the wind.
“Run,” Lucille yelled to Flo, and they took off.
“We’ll never make it back to the Mustang before they catch us,” Flo said, panting heavily. She looked behind her. “They’ve stopped chasing the money and they’re gaining on us. What are we going to do?”
Lucille looked around. A UPS truck was pulled up to a house across the street. The light inside the truck was on, and Lucille watched as a young man, dressed in brown, chose a package and leaped out of the truck.
He was probably delivering an order someone had placed for Christmas. She really had to start her shopping, Lucille thought. And get the tree out of the storage area in the basement. It was going to be Lucy’s first Christmas, and Lucille knew she was going to love seeing the sparkling lights and ornaments. Lucille couldn’t wait.
If she lived that long.
She couldn’t run much more. Her chest hurt and her throat was dry. She really had to start working out. She grabbed the edge of Flo’s jacket and said, “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“That truck over there.”
“Lucille, we can’t.”
“Are you kidding? You’re the one who reminded me that we’ve stolen a fire truck. And a hearse and an ambulance.”
“Okay, I’m in.”
Somehow they managed to put on a burst of speed.
“I’m glad I wore my boots with the wedge heel instead of the stilettos,” Flo gasped.
“So am I.”
They reached the truck and leapt aboard. The keys were in the ignition and the motor was running.
Lucille jumped into the driver’s seat.
“How come you always get to drive?”
“You want to take the wheel? Go ahead. Be my guest.”
“Never mind. Let’s just get out of here.”
Lucille peeled away from the curb, floored it, and they shot down the street. They could hear the UPS driver shouting as they turned the corner.
“We’re going to be in trouble, Lucille. Big trouble.”
“Yeah? Well, at least we’re not going to be dead.”
“They’re going to follow us, you know. And we won’t be hard to spot.”
“That’s why we’re going to the police station.”
“In a stolen vehicle?” Flo gasped. “Are you nuts?”
“The cops will be glad to get their money back, and we’ll explain about the truck.”
“Throw ourselves on their mercy, you mean.”
Lucille turned onto Springfield Avenue.
“Can you see if they’re gaining on us?”
Lucille looked into the rearview mirror. “I don’t know. There’s a bunch of dark cars behind us. I can’t tell which one is theirs.”
“Well, hurry—before they catch up with us.”
“I’m going as fast as I can.”
Lucille took the turn onto Elkwood Avenue on two wheels. Seconds later they pulled into the parking lot of the police department. A dark sedan shot past them and disappeared into the shadows down the road.
• • •
They were sitting in the chief’s office. He had called Sambucco in, and Lucille was shocked by how thin and tired Richie looked.
Sambucco scrubbed a hand over his face. He looked from Flo to Lucille and shook his head.
“So you two decided to find the missing money, am I right?” Sambucco finally said after an awkward pause.
“Yeah,” Lucille answered. “On account of we didn’t want you going to jail.”
“Thanks,” Sambucco said, rubbing his eyes.
Had that been a tear she’d seen? Lucille wondered.
“How did you know where to look?” Sambucco perched on the edge of the chief’s desk and crossed his legs.
Lucille looked at Flo, but Flo just shrugged her shoulders.
“Uh, well, we kinda thought that maybe someone was looking after the money and they hid it like.”
“And then they couldn’t remember where they’d hidden it,” Flo chimed in.
“You wouldn’t happen to know who this mystery person is, would you?”
Lucille shook her head vehemently. She wasn’t going to say nothing—that way she could tell Angela with a clear conscience that she hadn’t given Gabe up.
“I don’t know what to say,” Sambucco said. “Thank you. I love you both.”
And this time Lucille was positive she saw a tear in his eye.
“There’s one small problem,” Lucille said as she stood up.
“Oh?”
“It’s no big deal really. But when we were being chased by the two guys with guns, we sort of had to borrow a UPS truck to get away from them.”
“Borrow?”
“Yeah.”
Sambucco sighed and closed his eyes. He opened them again and looked at the chief.
“We’ll take care of it,” the chief said, with a smile hovering around his mouth.
“Tell me more about the men with guns. You’re sure they had guns?”
Lucille nodded. “They were going to shoot us.”
Sambucco looked skeptical and seemed to be wrestling with his thoughts. “Do you have any idea why these guys wanted to shoot you?”
“Because we found the money,” Flo said quickly, not looking at Sambucco.
“What did they look like?”
“Scary,” Lucille said. “Really scary.”
“Can you give me a little more than that to go on? I can’t put an APB out looking for someone scary. We’ll end up with half the town in here.” He scratched his head. “Were they tall? Short? Bearded or clean-shaven?”
“Let me think,” Lucille said. “Taller than me.”
“Which includes just about the entire population of New Providence.” He waved a hand. “Go on.”
“Dark hair, right, Flo?”
Flo nodded. “Stocky. Short and stocky.”
“So far we’ve got short, stocky and scary. Anything else?”
They shook their heads.
“It was dark,” Lucille explained.
“Sure, sure.” Sambucco sighed again. “We’ll keep an eye out, and meanwhile, I’ll arrange for a patrol car to swing by your houses every couple hours.” Sambucco slid off the corner of the chief’s desk. “Come on. I’ll give you two a ride back to Flo’s car. And I’ll make sure those two scary guys aren’t hanging around.”
Lucille glanced at Sambucco. Why did she have the feeling that he didn’t believe them?
They were about to head out of the building when Lucille had an idea.
“You two go on ahead. I’ll call Frankie to come get me.”
Flo shot her a grateful look. Lucille stood and watched as Flo and Richie walked toward his car. They were almost out of sight when she saw Richie put his arm around Flo’s shoulders. Lucille smiled with satisfaction.
Chapter 18
Lucille stood by the door and waited for Frank. A blast of cold air washed over her every time someone opened the door, but it felt good—the station was stifling. She could hear the steam knocking in the pipes and hissing through the radiators.
Frank didn’t sound none too thrilled when she called him—he had already settled into his favorite chair and had a rerun of the ball game on. But there was no way she was horning in on Richie and Flo. They needed some time alone to figure things out. She was confident they would.
Finally Frank pulled up in front of the building. Lucille ran out and pulled open the car door.
“Geez, Lucille, what are you doing at the police station?”
“I’ll explain,” Lucille said.
“This I gotta hear.”
Lucille shot him a look, although she knew he couldn’t see it in the dark.
She explained about Gabe and the money and how she and Flo had found it, putting Richie in the clear and hopefully letting Gabe off the hook. She left out the part about the goons and the UPS truck—no need to worry Frank in his condition.
“So you and Flo are like two superheroes, finding the money and sav
ing the day.”
Lucille knew sarcasm when she heard it so she didn’t say nothing—she looked out her window the rest of the way home.
Besides, she was worried about getting dinner on the table. Frankie would be hungry, and when he was hungry he could eat a whole bag of chips, and they weren’t on his new diet.
Frank didn’t say anything either. They walked into the house together in silence.
There was a good smell coming from the kitchen. Lucille sniffed. Tomato sauce, cheese? What was going on? She found Bernadette at the sink, an apron tied around her waist, Lucy in her bouncy chair and a pan of lasagna sitting on the stove with steam rising from the top.
“You made dinner.” Lucille was dumbfounded. Maybe there was hope for her daughter after all.
Bernadette shrugged. “It’s no big deal.”
“I think it is. I really appreciate it.” Lucille went over to Bernadette and kissed her on the cheek.
Bernadette scowled and pulled away. “Don’t make a thing out of it, okay?”
“Sure, sure. Let me go wash my hands, and then I’ll set the table.”
Lucille scurried into the powder room. She felt light-headed. She and Flo had found the missing money, Richie was no longer in trouble, and Bernadette had made dinner. It was shaping up to be a good day after all.
The lasagna was delicious. Lucille noticed Bernadette watching her nervously as she took her first bite.
“It’s perfect,” she said as she put her fork down. “Just like Grandma makes.”
Bernadette grunted and picked up her own fork.
“Speaking of your grandmother . . .”
Frankie looked up in alarm.
“She’s decided she doesn’t want to live at New Beginnings anymore.”
This time Frank grunted. “She doesn’t have much choice, does she?”
Lucille hesitated. “She’s sort of been thrown out.”
“Sort of?” Frank stopped with a forkful of lasagna halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean by sort of?”
“Okay, they asked her to leave. Is that plain enough for you?” Lucille felt herself becoming defensive.
