by Tessa Kelly
“Just kept yelling she was the victim here, that Dad ruined her wedding and I should be kicked off the police force for being the son of a murderer. Thought she'd take my head off.”
“Hmm. Sound like the lady is protesting too much.” I kept my tone light, though inside I was seething.
Poor Will. He didn’t deserve this. None of us did.
Sure, it was no secret Angela had a temper. Did that make her capable of murder? And what about her new husband?
“I wonder if David was really so ‘cool’ with Angela spending the night at Sonny’s,” I said.
“I thought about that,” Will admitted. “Actually, things might be even more complicated. Detectives Greene and Carver spoke to some of the Luce della Vita wait staff this morning. According to one of the waitresses, Sonny and Dave’s partnership wasn’t all that solid, either. The waitress overheard Sonny demanding that Dave show him all the financial paperwork for the restaurant. She said she heard Sonny saying he had proof David and Alex were going to cut him out of the partnership.”
“Do you think he really had proof?” I asked. “Or was he just suspecting something?”
“That’s what we gotta find out. At least, there’s good news,” he added. “Dad’s going before the judge in a couple of hours. If all goes well, they’ll let him out on bail.”
“I hope so,” I said. “I hate to think of him spending another night in that place.” Then I remembered why I called. “Was Kim there when you talked to Angela?”
“No. She mighta been in the house, but Angela never let me in. Why?”
“I found out something about Kim today,” I said. “It sounds like she also had a problem with Sonny.” I related Liam's account about the fight he’d overheard in the cellar. “What do you think? Can you try and find out what that was all about?”
“Definitely. I’ll pass the info on to Greene and Carver,” Will said. “They’ll get to the bottom of it. Thanks, sis.”
I was about to let him go when another thought struck me, “Hey, I was just thinking. What about that book collector from Boston, one who hired Sonny to get the Raymond Chandler edition?”
“What about him?”
“Is there a way to find out his name and address? From Sonny’s phone, maybe?”
“There should be.” Will sounded thoughtful. “You think he’s got a connection to the murder?”
“Not sure. It’s just a feeling I have. Something about that whole thing doesn’t seem right.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Will. Later.”
I put the phone back in my pocket. In spite of me, my thoughts returned to Angela's words about Dad and how the police already had their killer. My hand tightened into a fist on Marlowe’s leash. Will told me not to take Angela’s words personally. Easier said than done. It would take a lot of Felisha’s aromatherapy candles to erase this one. All I had to hope for was that others in the neighborhood didn’t share Angela’s attitude toward Dad.
Approaching my block, I rounded the corner and nearly bumped into Dora.
“Sandra!” She flinched and took half a step back.
Was I making her uncomfortable? She’d always been friendly with me before. Or did she also believe Dad was guilty?
“Hi, Dora. You okay?”
“Sure... sure. Just going for a walk and then maybe an early lunch.”
“Oh, so you’re heading over to Kathy’s? I’ll be running there myself, just as soon as I drop off this rascal at home.” I nodded at Marlowe who wagged his tail vigorously.
“Well.” Dora crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the sidewalk. Definitely, she was acting very odd for her. “I was thinking of trying that new place on Henry Street. I’ve been hearing great things about their brunch specials.”
“I see.” She was even avoiding Kathy’s bakery, her usual lunch place. It wasn’t difficult to guess why. How could she give up on Dad so quickly? Did she seriously believe he’d killed someone?
I had thought she really liked him. Maybe he’d been right in not pursuing her after all.
“Um, so how’s your Dad?” Dora asked in a quiet voice.
I forced out a smile. “We’re hoping they’ll let him out on bail tonight. Will’s seeing to that.”
“That’s good. It was awful watching the cops take him away last night. ”
This was more like it. I felt a thawing in my chest. Maybe I’d read too much into Dora’s words before. “You should go by and see him once he's out,” I urged her. “I know it would lift his spirits.”
“You think so?” She looked me in the eyes for the first time. There was so much uncertainty and hope in her gaze I knew she definitely hadn’t given up on my father.
“Of course. It'll make him happy to know you're on his side. Now, I'm sorry, but I really gotta go. I’m late as it is!”
Marlowe and I reached my building at a run. As the elevator rose to the fifth floor, I caught my reflection in the smooth metal of the doors. I looked tired, but also hopeful. My conversations this morning had filled me with a feeling that the investigation was moving along. Soon, Dad would be home and the real killer would be in the police custody. Sure, there was no new real evidence yet, but things were looking up.
Who knew, maybe there was even a new message waiting for me upstairs from a potential employer, inviting me to come to an interview. Still flying on my newfound optimism, I checked my email as soon as I got out of the elevator.
My optimism proved unfounded. There were no new messages.
Chapter 6
The bright-red front of Kathy’s bakery stood out in the middle of the block as I rounded the corner thirty minutes later. The glass door was wide open and two tables had been placed out on the sidewalk so that customers could enjoy the weather. No one was taking advantage of them today.
Apart from my brother wolfing down a chicken pesto on focaccia, the only other customer in the bakery was Mrs. O'Hara, an elderly widow with such a deep penchant for Kathy's carrot cake that even murder couldn't deter her from her daily fix. As I came in, she finished paying at the counter and Josh, Kathy’s new employee, came around to help her carry the food to a table.
“Is over there okay?” He pointed with his chin to the long table in front of the plush burgundy couch by the wall. A company of eight could easily fit there. “No one else is taking up space, you might as well make yourself comfortable.”
“Why don’t you take it to one of those nice tables outside,” Mrs. O’Hara said. Her eyes met mine. “Such a nice day, dear. Makes you want to sit out there and take it all in for a while.”
Not a mention of the murder or Dad's arrest, though she had to know all about it. In a neighborhood like ours, news traveled fast. This was what I liked about the old lady. She wasn't one for gossip.
I smiled, relieved. “Good morning, Mrs. O'Hara. How are you?”
“Oh, I'm fine." She waved a dismissive hand. “But, like I told your sister, if there's anything you need, dear, just ask.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
I stepped aside for them to pass.
“Hi, Sandra.” Josh gave me a quick nod, barely glancing in my direction. Maybe it was my imagination, but I had the distinct impression Josh didn’t like me much. I told myself it didn’t bother me.
The door swung closed behind them, giving Will and me a moment alone. I made a beeline to his table. “How come you’re not at the station this morning?”
Will swallowed a chunk of his sandwich and chased it down with coffee. “Been following a lead on a case a few blocks down, decided to stop by for a bite before heading back.”
“A lead? Something about Dad’s case?”
“No, this was unrelated. I went there after Angela's.”
I nodded. My brother was discreet. He didn’t often talk about his cases, and I respected that. But Dad’s case was different. And the fact that Will wasn’t officially investigating it meant we could discuss it.
&n
bsp; “Did you find anything out about that book collector yet?” I reached for the small glass vase with the peach dahlia at the center of the table and turned it around. The flower was noticeably wilted. So were the ones on the other tables. Kathy had a habit of changing them regularly. That she forgot was just another reminder of the shadow that had fallen on our lives.
Will took another big bite of his focaccia and I had to wait for him to swallow before he answered. “I called detective Carver after we hung up, mentioned it might be a good idea to look him up. He agreed. He’ll go through Sonny’s emails and phone calls and see what they can dig up. When he finds something, he’ll let me know.”
“Thanks, Will.” From the bakery’s back room, Kathy signaled that it was time to get to work. I nodded to let her know I wouldn’t take more than five minutes, then reached over and took a sip of Will’s cappuccino.
Outside, Josh put Mrs. O'Hara's carrot cake and coffee on the table and leaned against the glass door. He stretched, his short-sleeve tee tightening around his shoulders. It looked like he, too, wanted to take five.
I couldn’t blame him. The day was beautiful and sunny. A day meant for bumming around at the beach, not being stuck inside discussing a murder. I sighed and turned to Will again.
“You know what I’ve been wondering?”
He stared at me over his coffee cup. “Yeah?”
“Sonny was only in his early fifties, he wasn’t even an old man.”
“So?”
“So. Why did he feel the need to make a will? Isn’t that a little strange?”
He frowned. “Now that you say it, you might be right. It’s like he knew he was going to die, or something.”
“What if he did know?” I asked.
“You mean...”
“No, not that he’d get killed. What do we know about his health?”
A look of comprehension dawned on Will’s face. “Oh, I see. You might be on to something there, sis. Well, if he had health problems he didn’t want his family to know about, it shouldn’t be difficult to find out. Besides, the preliminary autopsy results should come in soon. Then we’ll know more.”
The door opened again, and Josh walked in and went behind the counter. Will stuffed the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and downed his coffee in one big gulp.
I snorted. “Careful, there. Don’t you remember Mom scolding you for eating too fast?”
He rolled his eyes. “The way you and Kath eat, if I didn't hurry, there’d be nothing left for me. Speaking of Kath...” He nodded towards the back room where my sister’s pinched eyebrows and thin lips spelled trouble for me.
I hurried to get up. “Thanks for the info. Text me if you find out anything new.”
“Sure thing, sis.”
I headed for the back to face Kathy’s wrath but then decided to arm myself with an iced coffee first. Slipping behind the counter, I edged past Josh who was busy cleaning the milk steamer. He paid me no attention. I reached for the milk jug on the counter beside him, conscious of our hands brushing as I did.
This was the extent of our contact. Not that the thought of asking Josh out hadn't crossed my mind when he first started working at Kathy's, but dating in the workplace was hardly a good idea. Especially since Josh also moonlighted as a part-time assistant at Dad’s book store. Besides, while I had no doubts about Josh's good looks, the jury was still out on whether I even liked him. His standoffishness and sarcasm were off-putting and made me wonder if we had anything in common.
Josh's deep brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he smirked and nodded toward the back. “You figure you haven’t got her mad enough yet, you decided to go for the full-blown thunderbolt?”
I shrugged, squishing down irritation. People smirking at me always brought up memories of my ex. Memories I was all but eager to keep buried.
“Don’t worry. I can handle my sister.”
“Sure, why not? Can’t be all that bad when the boss is also family. Right?”
Excuse me? I straightened to face him. “I don’t get treated any different here than you do. What I had to talk to my brother about was important, and Kathy knows it.”
He paused cleaning the steamer and frowned at me. “Why are you getting defensive? I didn't say you were treated differently, just that it must be nice to work for family.”
“As in, because I'm related I get to do what I want. Is that what you mean?”
He shrugged. “Look. Whatever. Forget it, okay?”
I took a deep breath, reminding myself it didn't matter what he thought. Still, how could he act so insensitive when Dad was in so much trouble?
“You wouldn't say 'whatever' if it was your Dad who was being held on suspicion of murder he didn’t commit.”
Without giving him the time to retort, I turned on my heels and headed for the back room. The jury had just got back with the verdict on Josh, and it wasn’t good. Just as well. My track record with men didn't exactly inspire confidence.
My last serious relationship ended five years ago in college, in a spectacular crash-and-burn the night before Christmas Eve. I had stopped by my boyfriend’s apartment to hide his presents under the tree and found him there with his other girlfriend I didn't know existed.
It was what sent me running off abroad the summer after my graduation. I spent the next two years backpacking through eight different countries and working my way at odd jobs until finally getting it together enough to come back to New York. These days, even the mention of a relationship raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
I decided not to give Josh another thought.
In the back room, Kathy was busy measuring out the sugar into the huge mixer beating peanut butter for the cookies. The place was filled with delicious smells coming from the two giant ovens behind her.
She didn’t look up or say anything as I came in. I hesitated, then decided it was best not to explain my lateness and just get to work. I put on my striped red apron, tied my hair up in a ponytail, and washed my hands.
Then I hurried over to my work table to survey the day’s workload on the metal racks next to it. Five specialty birthday cakes to be decorated before closing. Which meant I would have to skip lunch and work straight through if I were to get them done by five o’clock.
From the next table over, Felisha grinned at me. A tray of Kathy’s famous cheesecake brownies in front of her, she pushed her bracelets further up her forearms and armed herself with a serrated slicing knife. Catching Kathy’s fuming glance, she wiped the smile off her face and went back to cutting the brownies into even squares.
Kathy finished mixing the sugar. As she straightened, she rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. It left a white trace of flour. Abandoning the peanut butter concoction to churn in the giant machine, she hurried toward the walk-in fridge. As she passed my table, I touched her shoulder.
“Kath, I just wanted to know if he had any news about Dad.”
She stopped and sighed, then shook her head. “No, it’s fine. I’m not really mad. I was just getting nervous because of Jeff. He was starting to grumble and I really don’t want to have another fight today.”
I threw a glance at her husband at the other end of the bakery. He was putting together a new rack for the cookies and making a big production of it as if the job was exceedingly taxing. He was deliberately avoiding my gaze.
“Well, don’t worry,” I said. “Jeff will have nothing to complain about. I’ll have everything done before he heads out on deliveries. I’m very motivated to leave here on time.”
“Why?” Kathy raised an eyebrow at me. “You’ve got some big plans? A date maybe?”
“Of course not.” I took a tissue from the tissue box on the shelf and wiped the flour from her forehead. “You really think I'd go on a date with some guy when Dad is in so much trouble? It's just that, there’s somewhere I have to stop by tonight. So, yes. I guess I have plans.”
And they involved going over to Luce della Vita after work. Having learned wha
t I did from Will, I knew I had to do some major snooping around.
Chapter 7
Like I promised Kathy, I worked hard all afternoon, taking no breaks for lunch. But amid the baking and decorating, my thoughts kept circling back to the intriguing new piece of information Will shared that morning. If the waitress’s account was to be believed, there had been trouble among the partners of Luce della Vita. Was it serious enough to kill over? The more I thought about it, the more Sonny’s alleged fight with David seemed probable.
In the beginning, when the restaurant first opened, the partnership must’ve been a great solution. Sonny had the money to make the business happen, and the attractive proposition made it easy for the Sorrento brothers to overlook the cons in favor of the pros. At first.
By all accounts, Sonny was often querulous and short-tempered. As months went by, and the restaurant started to turn a profit, the downside of the partnership became more difficult to ignore.
Or it may have been that the brothers simply got tired of having to answer to a third person and wanted to take the reins in their own hands.
Whatever the reason, the partnership soured, and the Sorrento brothers were looking to dissolve it. Then, if somehow Sonny found out about their plan and threatened to stop it, the fact amounted to a pretty solid motive for murder.
By the time I finished drawing a frosting teddy bear on the last birthday cake, my mind was made up. I couldn’t wait. I needed to find out whether there was any substance behind this lead.
As I hung up my apron and let out my ponytail, Felisha looked up from a tray of chocolate cupcakes she was decorating with pink roses.
“You’re leaving already?” she pouted. “I thought we were walking home together. We could, like, stop by the health food store and get groceries.”
“Groceries?”
Felisha wanting to food shop with me could mean only one thing.
“Let me guess,” I said. “You found some new and complicated recipe, and you want me to be your guinea pig. Am I right?”
“Not a guinea pig.” She grinned. “Call yourself a lucky Beta taster.”
