Dirty Trouble (27 page)

Stuffed into the armchair by the fireplace, I toasted my toes near the flames. I knew this ‘Calgon, take-me-away’ moment couldn’t possibly last. With a nod of acceptance, I clasped the goblet of ruby red wine and nibbled sharp, tangy cheese.

“Anyone important on the phone?” I asked.

“Just a friend checking in. Why?” His eyebrow rose as he stared at me.

“You sounded business like, and I wondered, is all.”

“There’s something you should know, Vinnie,” he said and took a seat across from me. “I hope you’ll understand when I tell you. Try not to get angry.”

Oh, my God. My father’s imminent arrest is what he planned to tell me. I just knew it. Or maybe the arrest of Aunt Muffy, and my father’s arrest would happen on Monday. What about my mother? What would she do? How would she handle that?
These thoughts scrambled through my befuddled brain.

With a deep breath, I nodded and gulped the wine – not tasting it.

“Monday, there’ll be some arrests made.”

Oh, God, I knew it. Here it comes
.

“Okay,” I said.

“You should stay in town. Go to the festival – enjoy your houseguests, or whatever it is you do during this weekend. Just don’t leave the village. Do you understand?” His serious face, his dark eyes held me pinned to the chair. I couldn’t move, though catapulting from the room entered my mind.

“Okay,” I mumbled again. My brain sped away – a freight train out of control. Off I went on a tangent.

Who did the feds plan to arrest?
I didn’t just need to know. I had to know. I
really
had to know.
Did my father ask another favor of some kind that implicated him in something illicit? What the hell was going on?

“The Hill is in celebration, as usual, for the Columbus Day holiday. On Monday, an FBI team, along with the PPD and state police, plan to arrest certain members of the social club next to En Croute.” Aaron sipped his wine and paused. “Marianna will also be taken into custody for her part in the crimes. It’s imperative that you stay here in the village. I can’t worry about you being caught up in the situation, especially if something goes awry.”

“Exactly who will be hauled in?” I asked, my voice just above a whisper.
God, please don’t let it be my dad.

“I can’t tell you that. Just promise you’ll stay out of it.”

“I promise,” I lied. My fingers, tucked into the fold of my sweatshirt, were crossed and double-crossed.
Would my father be arrested for a crime he hadn’t committed?
If so, then damn straight I’d be involved up to my very dark eyeballs.
What could this lunatic be thinking?
Well, I couldn’t blame Aaron. He wasn’t Italian and didn’t understand the pull of family responsibility.

“Convince me that you’ll stay here in Scituate and not interfere, Vinnie.” Furrowed eyebrows creased the tanned forehead of the handsome brute before me.

“How would you like me to do that, exactly?” I queried him with a twitch of a smile on my lips. Why I smiled I’ll never know, but the tension in Aaron’s face eased.

“That, my dear, is a leading question. However, if you show me your hands and swear that you won’t show up on Federal Hill on Monday, then I’ll take your word for it. You see, I know that when you cross your fingers, your promise doesn’t count.” The smile broadened into laughter, and white teeth gleamed in the firelight.

How did he know that I crossed my fingers? Why would that matter to him?
Caught out in the act of fibbing, I raised my hands, wiggled my fingers, and issued a few words to the effect that I wouldn’t interfere.

Placated, Aaron chuckled and said, “That didn’t really hurt, did it? You planned to show up when you heard me on the phone. Why, I wonder?”

Indignant, I blustered over the fact that he’d known I’d sneaked into the apartment while he was on the line, but I failed to mention why the arrests interested me so much.

“You only had to ask,” I said. “I’m happy to agree to this request. Honest.”

“So, why would you consider showing up? Afraid someone important to you would be arrested?”

“No,” I lied. “It’s just that I figured you’d tell me more than what you’ve shared so far.” I plucked the edge of my sweatshirt ribbing and refused to look at him, afraid he could read my mind.

“It’s impossible for me to say anything else. I could get into serious trouble for divulging this much.” He leaned back against the soft leather sofa, hands behind his head, staring at me.

“It’s all right, I can respect that. Besides, I’m certain the take down will go without a hitch. With so many professionals in one place, it has to, doesn’t it?” Yeah, right, with a slew of professionals and all that testosterone topping off egos, a screw-up somewhere along the line couldn’t help but happen. It’s just the way it goes.

The phone rang downstairs, and I hitched off the chair to scoot down into my apartment. My stocking feet slid across the hardwood floor, and I raised the receiver to my ear.

A tad breathless, I answered the call. “Hello.”

“Is this Lavinia?” the male voice asked.

“Yes, it is. Who’s calling?”

“This is Peter Bedeek, the gentleman who assisted you outside of En Croute. Remember me?”

“Uh huh, I do. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to warn you that things on the Hill will get sticky Monday. You need to keep your parents away from the area. Understand what I’m tellin’ you?”

“Got it, no problem. I’ll make sure they won’t show up. Thank you for calling. I appreciate it.”
Appreciate it? Am I nuts?
Slipping the phone into the charger, I leaned against the desk, drumming the enamel on my teeth with the tips of my fingernails.

Some thug calls me on the phone and instructs me to keep my parents off the Hill and I’m supposed to be happy about that? Not only did the FBI want me out of the way, but now thugs issued orders to me. Do I look like a mob moll? Someone who follows orders from a pack of witless wonders? Nah, not me.

Slowly I returned to the hallway and yelled up the stairs that I’d be turning in for the night. Aaron yelled down that he’d see me in the morning, and closed the door. I swung my door shut and twisted the lock in place.

I’d been toasty warm in front of the fire, and relaxed from the wine until the phone had rung. I ambled into the bedroom, pulled the thick down comforter away from the pillows, and snuggled underneath. It didn’t take long for body heat to radiate throughout the bed.

My eyes drooped lower and lower as sleep descended. I had no clue how this evening managed to get beyond my grasp. Not that I’m a control freak or anything, but I do like order – even though it doesn’t seem that way.

* * * *

I awoke to another day of company. The guests rolled in and out while my pastry supply dwindled. Nothing out of the ordinary took place. At the end of the day I heaved a relieved sigh.

Around seven o’clock that evening, I turned on the fireplace, set out wine glasses, and waited for Marcus to tumble in. Aaron had been gone since five. I wondered if he was prepping for the arrests the next day.

The phone rang as I settled on the sofa. The voice I’d come to know so well brought a smile to my face.

“Where are you, Marcus? I’m waiting here by the fire for you,” I said.

“Sorry, Vin, I can’t make it. I’ve been held over and am pulling another shift.”

“Cripes, now I’ll have to drink all this wine by myself.” I laughed as his chuckle crossed the distance.

“Did you get the results of the fingerprints?”

“Yeah,” he said. “They were the same as what Anderson found.”

“I figured as much, but it was worth a try. Right?”

“Indeed. I’ve got to go. Stay warm and I’ll see you tomorrow sometime, all right?”

I rang off and settled in for a movie and a glass of wine.

Chapter 25

Sunshine cascaded through the French doors in the kitchen while I prepared a pot of coffee. My glance strayed to Evergreen, parading back and forth on the deck outside. Every now and then, his keen eyes glared through the glass while he waited. He wanted a snack, so I rifled the fridge to comply with the silent demand.

Chilly, brisk-moving air filled my lungs and tickled my nose as I stepped outside to deposit the plate on the deck. I murmured soft words of welcome to the beast and watched him wolf down the food. In no time flat the dish was empty, licked clean and shiny by his sandpaper tongue.

The rangy animal licked his lethal paws before he washed his fluffy face. I watched in awe as he cleaned toes that concealed spring-loaded claws. Every now and then, Evergreen chewed one claw while all the others sprang forward. I turned and left him to finish his bath and went inside to take one of my own.

 When the phone rang, I hustled to answer it. My mother’s voice echoed in my ear.

“Lavinia, your father is heading up to the Hill today. He’s going to march in the procession to the church. He’d like us to meet him there for dinner at the Piazza DiAglio. Do you have any guests coming by today?”

“No guests today, Mom, but I hoped you and Dad would come here and take in the festival.” No such idea had entered my mind, but I needed to come up with an excuse so my parents would stay away from the action on the Hill.

“Oh dear, I hadn’t even thought of that. Well, can’t we just go up to watch your father march and then have dinner at your house?”

My mother, the compromiser. If she could make things work out for everyone, she would, but not today. A sense of panic took hold of me, I wondered how I could keep my father from making the trip to the Hill.
Dang.

“Does he have to participate in that affair? I really looked forward to having you both here for the day.” If nothing else, I could always use emotional blackmail. It might work on Mom, but Dad was another matter altogether.

“I’m sorry, dear, but he’s left the house and I won’t see him until we meet later.” Her voice sounded tense. Maybe it was guilt. I wasn’t sure.

“Fine, then, I’ll come by and pick you up. We’ll head to the Hill together.” Shit, now I would be in trouble with Aaron. If Marcus found out, I’d be in double trouble.

Family first, then whatever comes next. That’s my motto.

Dressed in jeans, three-inch heeled boots and a heavy burgundy sweater over my turtleneck jersey, I drove toward Cranston. Inching into the driveway, I noticed Aunt Muffy’s car parked behind Mom’s. Great, I’d have to deal with Mob Moll Muffy as well as my parents. The day had taken a nosedive, and a sense of weighted doom settled over me like a cloak of chain mail.

A pathetic sigh left my lips as I stepped up the stairs and into the house. Muffy sat at the table, dressed to the nines, handbag at the ready. My mother strode through the kitchen door, her scarlet jacket draped over her arm.

“We’re ready to go. You look a bit stressed, dear. Is everything all right? You haven’t had a disagreement with Marcus or Aaron, have you?” Her face and voice were filled with concern, and I knew I couldn’t utter a sound about my real issues.

With a shake of my head, I said, “No, I wanted to tell you that Tony DeGreico has been arrested. He’s violated probation and will be sent to jail.” I left out the why and how of it all.

“I’m so relieved. He deserves to be in jail, especially after what he did to you, Lavinia. How did you find out?”

“Marcus told me last night that he’d be headed back to a cell.”
How’s that for lying by omission?

The three of us left the house, heading for the car, as the grey Crown Victoria blocked the end of the driveway. My mother smiled and waved to Marcus. Aunt Muffy just stared at him, and then her black eyes slanted toward me. After she gave him a nod, the two women entered my car to wait. Marcus strode up the driveway and grasped my arm, hustling me toward the street.

“We need to talk, now.”

“Fine, but take your hand off me before you alarm my mother.” Alarm me, is what I meant.

His hand dropped from my arm as he turned to face me. Marcus’s face wore a grim expression which meant that his news wouldn’t make my day any better.
Crap, I hate when that happens.

“What is so important that you came by my mother’s house?”

“I called your cell phone, but you didn’t answer. After I found you weren’t home I swung by here. Tony was bailed out of jail this morning. A big-time attorney coughed up the bail money and made some kind of deal with the DA and the judge. I want you to be extremely careful today. Tony will be nastier than ever if he finds you.”

Quaking inside, I nodded in agreement. Marcus leaned in and kissed my lips ever so tenderly. For a moment, my breath caught in my throat.

“You be careful today, too. Why don’t you stop by later tonight for pizza?” I asked.

“Sure. And dessert, too?” His brows waggled, and a wicked grin crossed his features.

Laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep inside, and I nodded. How I could find humor at this point in time was anybody’s guess. I watched Marcus drive away and I strode back to the car. My mother and Aunt Muffy had mile-wide, all-knowing grins on their faces as I slid behind the wheel. A chuckle from me brought soft laughter from them as we left for the Hill.

“You serious about this cop?” Aunt Muffy asked.

“Yeah, I’m afraid so.” I chuckled at her shaking head.

“He’ll break your heart, ya know.”

“So could anyone else. Life is a chance I have to take.” My little voice felt compelled to agree with Auntie at this juncture, but I switched it off and drove toward Federal Hill.

Throngs of viewers milled around the Hill, peering into quaint shops as they slurped down pepper and meatball sandwiches, munched on doughboys, and sipped espresso. My mouth watered over the doughboys. When fried in unhealthy fat, rich bread dough puffed up and was then mounded with granulated sugar.
Ah, don’t you love unhealthy stuff?

I scanned the crowd for a glimpse of my father, but he was nowhere to be seen. Lined with parade enthusiasts, Atwells Avenue, the thoroughfare that ran the length of the Hill, began to quiet down as the procession for Saint Christopher started.