by S. M. Dapelo
“It’ll piss your cousins off,” sighed Mom.
“Even better. They’ve always treated me like crap. Plus, Bianca is the one who said you couldn’t guess I was pregnant in my second favorite dress,” I shrugged, following Luc out the door as I heard Elena laugh.
“Look at you, getting to choose stuff,” smiled Luc.
“Let’s just see what Dad needs,” I said.
“Before we go in there,” he put his hand out. A small white pill was in his hand, “Take your medicine. We’re away from your mom, but you need to have them in the morning.” I grabbed it from him, palmed it, and drank a sip of coffee. As we passed a vase and Luc was looking at something else, I tossed it and watched as the pill fell in. I never miss. Maybe I should have played basketball instead of painting.
We entered my dad’s office. He and Marc were standing in front of the television on the wall. He paused something when he turned to look at us. “Good, you’re both here. Alley needs to see this.” He hit play, and the news started.
A middle-aged man in an expensive suit stood in front of some steps with Dean Basden and Detective Royer standing behind him. “So, to repeat myself,” the man said. “No one from the Amato or the Romano families are considered suspects in the murder of Dominic Amato and the attempted assassination of Luca Romano. All family members have been alibied.”
“What about the wedding between Luca Romano and Alessandra Amato?” one reporter yelled.
“What of it?” shrugged the man. “Two people are getting married. It’s not uncommon. They just happen to be members of two successful families, also not uncommon.”
“Do you believe these families have mob ties?” yelled another.
“There has been no proof either of these families has links to the mafia, except they both have Italian last names.” The man crossed his arms. “If you know something, please bring the information forward. I’m sure the FBI would be interested. Though I’d have to ask if you think every family with an Italian last name is Mafia? Seems a little like profiling and we don’t do that in my department.”
He continued, “If there are any other questions about the case, please refer them to the Media Relations department. If we have a lead, we will let you know.” He walked away from the microphone. I noticed Dean’s jaw was clenched, but his partner seemed relaxed.
My father turned the television off, “So, nothing more to worry about. You’re in the clear Alley. You can relax and focus on the wedding.”
It almost made me smile that my father thought I was naïve. “They think you paid the police off,” I rubbed my arms. “Those reporters won’t let this go.”
“If they don’t, we sick our lawyers on them,” shrugged Dad. “Our lawyers are more terrifying than the IRS.”
Elena ran in, “Oh good, I caught you two.” She handed me a sheet of paper. “You have a doctor’s appointment in an hour. Then you need to go to the caterers and choose the menu, then to the bakery for a cake sampling. I’ve already chosen the style; you can choose the flavors.”
“I thought you and Mom were taking care of everything?” I frowned at the sheet. It looked like the excursion to the museum was off.
“You need to do something,” she growled. “Anyway, the reception is at Rozelle Court in the Nelson-Atkins, so we’re using their menu. Just choose something, and remember, only two fifty are coming to the reception.”
“How many?” I felt my mouth drop, “I don’t know two hundred and fifty people.”
“Of course you don’t,” she waved a hand at me. “But you’re opening a business, and your father and husband-to-be are affluent business owners. It’s not like we invited all five hundred that are coming to the ceremony.”
“Of course not,” I rolled my eyes, “That would just be silly.”
“Cosmo, she’s doing that thing again,” Elena stared at me.
“Please do what Elena asks,” my father walked around his desk. “It makes my life a lot easier.”
“Cosmo!” Elena glared at him.
Dad sat in his chair and just raised a single brow, “What? It does.”
“We’ll get everything taken care of, Elena,” Luc jumped in, taking the sheet from me. “I was going to take her to the museum anyway. This kills two birds with one stone.”
“See, Luca’s a good boy,” Elena smiled at me. Marc burst out laughing. Her gaze turned to him, “And while you’re here, Marco, let’s discuss what constitutes an acceptable date to your brother’s wedding.” She crossed her arms as his mouth dropped open.
“I’m taking Alley to her doctor’s visit,” Luc grabbed my hand and pulled me to the door. “Remember to explain to Marc what an acceptable outfit for his date is as well. Last time he went to a wedding, his date showed up wearing latex.”
“She did not,” I heard Luc’s brother protest as we left. “It was leather.”
13
After an awkward doctor appointment comprising of the nurse telling Luc in detail what happens at an OBGYN appointment to get him to stay in the waiting room and a shot to take care of our issue in a week, we went to the art museum.
“Dad used to take me here. Just me and him,” I smiled as we walked in. “He’d make his men stay out of sight and we’d get to be a normal father and daughter. I think it’s why I decided to be an artist.”
“That’s awesome,” he tucked me under his arm.
“What about your Dad?” I asked. “What’s your favorite memory of him?”
His face went neutral, and he slowly shook his head. “I can’t talk about it right now.” He looked down and gave a small smile, “Later?” I frowned but nodded.
We were met by our coordinator and led to an office at the restaurant to look at the various menu options. While there, Luc declared there would be no vegetarian option, and he wanted everything wrapped in bacon. I sent him to get us drinks, then quickly chose three other options, and smiled serenely as he walked back with my coke. We spent a quick hour afterward going to my favorite exhibitions in the museum before heading to the bakery.
After trying ten assorted flavors, we decided on half the cake being a traditional vanilla, the other half was a chocolate cappuccino. As we left Luc asked, “Do you need lunch?”
“Not even a little,” I sighed contently. God, I loved sugar. “How much did we eat?”
“A lot,” he chuckled. “Also, I know you changed the menu when I left to get you something to drink.”
“You can’t threat to starve vegetarians,” I growled.
“Don’t see why not?” he shrugged.
“Because my mother is vegan,” I said.
He stopped and made a face at me, “No, she’s not.”
“When have you ever seen her eat meat or any animal byproducts?”
He thought for a minute. “Huh,” he said as we walked back to the car, “Never noticed.”
“It’s not like you’ve been with my family a long time,” I smiled.
“I was at your dad’s place a week before I started hunting for you,” he shrugged. “Elena had already moved your mom in by then. I guess I was too busy profiling you.” I turned to stare at him. He put up his hands, “Be happy I work this way. It’s going to make finding your brother’s murderer much easier.”
“I guess.” I frowned as he opened the car door for me, “Can we stop by the gallery? I want to make sure no one’s tried to break in to get information on us.”
He got in on his side. “I was going to suggest it,” he started the car. “I got a text from Feddi. The movers dropped everything for the gallery off. I want to find the flash drive before Detective Doofus hits us with a search warrant.”
“Awesome, I can grab the painting for Marc and make sure everything traveled okay. Feddi took the pictures of the dancers himself.”
Luc frowned as he stared through the window. “Are you giving everything away?”
“I misspoke. Feddi sold almost everything, but the few pieces left I need to make sure of.” I laid my head on
my hand as I stared out the passenger window, “I’m not thinking of killing myself. Stop worrying.”
“I never said you were thinking of hurting yourself,” he argued.
“You’re worried about it. Pushing the meds, asking about me giving items away, going on and on about how I’m painting in black and white.” I turned to him, “Thank you for worrying, but I’m only depressed, not suicidal.”
He gave a small nod, “Sorry. Marc got worried when you announced he could have the painting. Then he saw the one you worked on with the black circles.”
I frowned, “What painting with the black circles?”
“The white canvas with a bunch of black circles on it. Some are huge and some are smaller,” he pulled into a parking space a few shops down from the gallery.
“The only canvas I have with black circles is from a stroke exercise. I do them about once a month. It’s about using the whole arm and not just the fingertips. It helps you get straighter lines and more rounded circles.” I shook my head, “I haven’t done any paintings that are just circles. That’s too abstract for me.”
“Remind me to hurt my brother the next time I see him,” he jumped out and raced around the car. I was already out by the time he reached me. “Remember to let me open the door for you. We have to worry about reporters waiting to pounce.”
“Sorry,” I winced, “I didn’t even think.”
“That’s fine. Just keep it in mind, please,” he put his hand on the small of my back as walked up the sidewalk. I noticed a piece of the brown paper had fallen from one corner of the window. I was going to have to fix that. Especially with people nosing around.
We walked in and Tiffany looked up from the paint cans. “Oh hi,” she smiled. “I know I wasn’t supposed to be here today, but I was just making sure this is the right shade of white before the painters come in the morning.”
“There're shades of white?” Luc asked.
“Yes,” we both answered, then smiled at each other.
“Luc, why don’t you head to the office, I’ll fix the paper in the window. I’ll be just a moment,” I said.
“Oh, I’ll get it,” Tiffany said. “I don’t want anyone snooping around.” She headed to the window, grabbing the corner of the paper. Luc shrugged and pulled me by the hand toward the office.
Suddenly he stilled, his eyes narrowing, and he turned his head just a fraction toward the door. “Down,” he roared as he grabbed me, and threw me to the ground, covering me with his own body as the sound of gunfire and shattering glass filled the room. After it stopped, you could hear screaming outside. Luc got up, his hands prodding me, “Are you hit?”
“No,” I shook my head, taking in the room. I could smell copper. A still figure on the floor by the broken window caught my attention and my heart stuttered. “Oh my God,” I gasped, racing toward the form. “Tiffany,” I slid next to her and tried to stop the bleeding from her torso with my hands. Her breath rattled for a second, then she stilled, and her eyes glazed over. “Tiffany, you’re going to be okay,” I kept pressing on her wounds. “Luc, call an ambulance.” I was crying. I knew I should start CPR but was unsure of what to do. I froze.
“Alley, it’s too late,” Luc tried to pull me from her.
“No,” I cried, tearing my arm from his hands. “She’s going to be okay. She’s just unconscious.”
“Alley,” his voice got hard. “She’s dead. You can’t do anything.” I looked down, realizing my hands were sticky and covered in her blood. I tried wiping them off, then realized I was smearing her blood all over me. Luc pulled me to my feet and walked to the door and opened it. I had barely heard the pounding.
Three police officers ran in. “Is anyone hurt,” a small brunette woman asked. She took in my appearance, “Ma’am are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I began hyperventilating as I pointed toward Tiffany, “Tiffany’s hurt. She needs help. I can’t remember what to do.” The two taller officers ran toward the body as I shook.
“She’s in shock,” the policewoman said. “I’m calling an ambulance.”
“Tell them to send the medical examiner as well,” one officer said. “It’s too late for this one.”
“I should have fixed the paper myself, then this wouldn’t have happened to her,” I whispered.
“No, then you’d be dead,” Luc hugged me tighter.
“Sir, you’re getting blood on you,” the officer said.
“Don’t care,” he muttered. “I texted Feddi,” he said into my hair. “I 9-1-1’d it. He’ll grab everyone and triangulate on my signal. They’ll be here shortly.”
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but soon the area was swarming with police. We had three in our gallery along with Feddi and Marc, who had shown up within minutes. I heard Feddi mention there were at least a dozen other’s outside. Marc stood to the side making calls when Detectives Basden and Royer walked in. The paramedics had me seated in a chair, a blanket around me.
“What did you see?” Royer asked with no preamble.
“Detective, she’s in shock,” the officer admonished him. She hadn’t left my side since entering.
“I have to insist Miss Amato be taken to the hospital,” Samantha walked in. A crease appeared between her brows as she stared at Luc, then gave a small nod. “We’ll set up a time you can interview her.”
“We have someone dead here,” Basden got in the lawyer’s face.
“Yes, and it’s horrible,” she agreed. “But considering Miss Amato and Mr. Romano were both here as well, I think we can assume they didn’t shoot her. They are victims as well. Miss Amato is in shock and needs to get medical attention. Mr. Romano should be looked at as well.”
“Yeah,” Basden’s deadpanned. “He’s devastated.”
“Maybe not.” Marc moved forward, “But he won’t leave Alley’s side so you might as well let him go. Oh,” he handed his phone to the detective, “and I have someone who wants to speak to you.”
Basden rolled his eyes, “Let me guess, the Capitan.”
Marc laughed, “No.” Then his face went serious, “It’s the mayor.”
Basden’s face turned white as he grabbed the phone and started stuttering. I couldn’t make more than, “Yes sir. No sir.”
Samantha smirked. “I like the way you work,” she said to Marc.
“You’re sure you’re happily married?” he whined at her.
“Extremely,” she nodded.
“Leave her alone,” growled Luc. “If Ethan finds out you’re hitting on her, we’ll lose his backing.” Marc sighed and nodded.
Marc’s face went grim as he watched the medical examiner wheel Tiffany out, “She deserved better than this.”
“We’ll get her justice,” Luc said to him. “Right now, I need to get Alley checked out and home.”
“I’ll keep things under control here and get the window replaced,” Marc said. “Don’t be surprised if reporters show up at the hospital.”
I was loaded into an ambulance with Luc at my side and was soon set up in the emergency room. My clothes were taken, and the staff gave me scrubs to change into, as was Luc. After the doctor checked me out, Luc sat next to me stroking my hair as I laid on the bed. Both of the detectives walked into the room, “We are to kindly ask if you think you will be available tomorrow to answer questions,” ground out Basden. “Your clothes are being entered into evidence.”
“Wait until after lunch,” Luc glowered at him. “I want Alessandra rested.”
“That’s fine,” smirked Basden. “We’re going to be busy the rest of the night and most of the morning. We’ll need to search the gallery thoroughly, since it’s a crime scene. We wouldn’t want to miss any evidence.”
“If you’re not asking questions, leave,” I said. “You’d think you’d show more compassion. Tiffany was your prom date.”
“You knew the victim,” growled Royer to Basden. “You and I need to have a discussion about your involvement in this case.”
“
There’s no involvement,” Basden shot back. “I haven’t seen either of them since high school graduation.”
“You know them,” growled Royer. “We’ll deal with this later. Back at the department.” He turned to Luc and me, “We’ll be by tomorrow afternoon around one.” Then stomped out of the room with Basden behind him.
“Somebody’s getting kicked off the case,” sang Luc with a small smile. Then he sobered, “Let’s get out of here. We both need to get showered.”
“How did you know? You got me to the ground before they fired any shots?” I asked.
“Button, I’ve been doing this a long time,” he sighed. “I noticed a car shadow was taking way too long to pass by and that tape shouldn’t have gotten loose. It’s duct tape. It just clicked.”
“They’re gonna find the flash drive,” I sighed, getting up.
“Nope. Why do you think Feddi and Marc showed up so fast? If it’s in the office, they’ve already got it,” Luc whispered.
“We do,” Marc walked into the room. “Feddi’s taking you to your apartment tonight. I’ve tripled security. I’ve already arranged it with Amato.”
“We don’t need a safe house,” Luc crossed his arms.
“It’s non negotiable. Don’t make me call in Ryker.” Marc’s face was stone, “Someone tried to kill one of you. And you,” he pointed at his brother, “have already had an attempt. No matter what you think, you’re my brother. You’ve always been here for me, and I’ll always be here for you. Amato and I are calling everyone into a meeting tonight. I want to make sure it’s not one of his guys trying to stop the merger.”
“Merger?” I stared at him.
He waved a hand, “Wedding, same thing.” He looked at Luc who was rolling his eyes, “Take your fiancé to the safe house, pamper her and make her feel protected. By tomorrow we’ll know if it was one of ours or not.”
“Fine,” Luc growled. “But it should involve me too.”
“You will be if it turns out one of Amato’s guys took the shot. Otherwise, there’s no reason to.” He led us out to another dark SUV in the back of the hospital, no reporters to be seen. “Don’t forget, Luca. I’m in charge, not you.”
