For Love of Livvy (23 page)

My car eased into the parking lot next to Lola's Mini Cooper. I cut the motor, locked the doors and ambled toward the deli's back steps. When I entered the huge room, I noticed two girls behind the counter. A woman near the door read a newspaper and munched a sandwich. Another patron stretched across the sofa in front of the windows with a book and a steaming beverage. The counter help motioned that Lola was in the back room. I poked my head around the door to see what was cooking.

Aroma's assaulted my nose and I inhaled deeply. Fried calamari and hot peppers sat on the sideboard. Linguine cooked in the pot on the stove. I watched Lola dump olive oil into a pan loaded with chopped garlic. My taste buds went into overdrive at the thought of her cooking. Even though I was full from lunch, I would have eaten the pasta if it had been offered.

"It's not for you and by the way, Trooper Richmond came in earlier. He said he'd seen you in Cranston, so you won't need any of this food.” Her face crinkled into a smile as she finished the pasta dish and sent it out front.

"Did Richmond say anything else?"

"No why? Has there been a development?"

"That's what he said, he also told me to be careful."

"Is that all? Just be careful?"

"That's it, nothing more. Most of the time I feel the need to reach down his throat and rip the words out, but it wouldn't do any good. He'd probably just drag them back.” With those words, I left her in the kitchen and went home.

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After I unpacked the goodies from my mother, I stowed them in the fridge and hauled out my sketch pad. Flora and fauna was alive everywhere in the backyard. In an effort to relax, I headed outside. The sun was still bright as I settled on the deck steps.

Charcoal smudged across the page as I did a negative illustration. Dark against light played across the paper while my mind flickered back and forth over the gems. Thoughts about Aunt Livvy and the creep who wanted the stones back skittered alongside. Try as I might to stay out of it, the situation continued to eat at me.

Pages flipped over as I continued to sketch, moving on to pastel chalk after wiping the charcoal off my hands. Color scrambled across the surface. I blended it with my fingers. Spreading the color around is cathartic just to see what happened. Loose strokes, sharp strokes and blending brought the images of the yard alive on the rough textured sketchpad.

This went on for a long time until my fingers tingled from blending and shade dappled the yard. Sunlight ebbed, and I realized the day had fled. I leaned the pad against the rail and stood back assessing the work. Not bad for therapeutic work. I flipped page after page over. Tension had given way with each drawing. Colors splashed against one another and the result was wondrous.

I rubbed color from my hands on a nearby rag while I stared at the work. A vehicle pulled into the driveway and nosed up to the garage. The sound of a door closing echoed across the yard and feet crunched over the stones. Aaron was back and I wondered if he would stop in. I didn't have to wait long to find out.

A peremptory knock sent me to the door. I stepped into the kitchen and opened the door with a smile.

"Do you have a bruise on your face?” Aaron asked as he peered at my cheek.

Rubbing my skin with the rag, I realized pastel chalk had found its way onto my skin. I chuckled and shook my head.

"No, I've been outside sketching with pastels."

"So you've tried to stay out of trouble today.” He grinned. “That's a relief, to say the least. Can I take a look at what you accomplished?"

"Sure. I'll get the sketchpad."

I stepped through the French doors and scooped the pad from the railing. I gathered the supplies and brought them inside. The pad slid across the counter. While Aaron leafed through the sketches, I packed the pastels back into their carton.

A slight whistle caught my attention, and I glanced at Aaron in surprise.

"These are great. I really like this one.” He tipped the pad for me to see which drawing he meant.

"Take it. I have no use for it, and since you've been supportive, it's the least I can do."

Brown eyes slid over my face as he leaned across the counter and kissed me. It was a warm kiss, but unlike those I got from Marcus. When Marcus just brushed his lips across mine, my body had instant ignition. No doubt about it, Marcus Richmond had managed to get under my skin.

With a slight smile, I stepped back and washed my hands free of color. Anything to avoid the moment. As I turned, I watched Aaron struggle with the pad, fearful he'd tear the paper.

A paper knife sat amid the bag of supplies. I whipped it out. With deft skill, I had the sheet off the pad and slid the page toward Aaron.

"There, now you won't tear the paper. Are you hungry? My mother sent me home with leftovers today. I'll share if you don't mind eating second hand food.” I grinned at his laughter.

"Sounds like a great idea to me. I dreaded a meal alone and don't like to cook anyway. If it's no trouble, I'll stay."

I opened the fridge and loaded the countertop with plastic containers stuffed with food. We had enough for an army. I had no problem envisioning Aaron's ability to make a dent in the pile of leftovers.

The microwave worked overtime as I heated plates stacked with an assortment of delicious goodies. Aaron pulled napkins from the holder and set out the flatware I slid in his direction. The microwave stopped, I turned to take the dishes out when the phone rang.

I stared at it for a second and checked the caller I.D. There was no number visible and I let the answering machine pick up. When the greeting ran its course, the creepy voice scratched its way across the room.

"The stones must be returned tomorrow. If you don't answer the next call, you'll wish you had. We know you're there and that you have the thug from upstairs with you.” The irritating voice ended and the call disconnected.

Surreal, my senses went into overload. My heart pounded in my ears, I could hardly breathe. I clutched the hot dishes in mitt covered hands and stared at the phone. Sweat gathered on my brow and panic rose like bile in my throat. Somebody watched me carefully, was the house bugged? Was I on video camera?

In a nanosecond, Aaron was at my side. He rescued the dishes as they started to slide downward and hucked them on the counter. He turned back to me as I swayed, grabbing my arms.

"Don't leave me now,” he said in a stern voice. “It'll be okay Vinnie, I won't let anyone harm you."

In an instant I found myself eased onto a stool while my brain cleared. My hand shook when I wiped my brow, and I stared in fear at the hulk before me. Speech was impossible. My throat was dry as an arid desert. Numb, I sat while Aaron's concerned face took on what looked like barely masked anger.

Strong hands moved up my arms encasing my face. “You'll be fine, honest,” he said.

He ran the cold water tap and offered me a tall glass. When I didn't take it from him, he set it down and gave me a slight shake.

"Vinnie, snap out of it. You're scaring the crap out of me."

Jumbled thoughts of my demise if I didn't get the damned gems back crowded an already overactive imagination. With immense effort, I snapped back to reality and nodded at the concerned giant. The water sat next to me and I slid my hand around the glass clasping it tight until my knuckles turned white. Raising the shaking glass to my lips, I drank half the water and cleared my throat.

"I'm all right, really. Fine, honest.” I tried to smile, but was unsure of my success. After all, what did I have to smile about? My favorite aunt was dead, her car burnt to a cinder, someone kept breaking into my apartment. There were phone threats from a creep, and my newly acquired shop was currently under investigation for the transference of stolen property. Wow, could life get any better than that?

"Don't get paranoid on me, okay? If someone is watching the place, they realize I live upstairs. There are no lights on in the apartment, so it's safe to assume I'm down here with you, right? As far as the threat, that's a bit dramatic, so don't take it seriously. You are under surveillance all the time, Vinnie,” he rationalized.

"You're a great guy, and I know you're probably right. To be frank, I'm so tired of this whole affair that I could just spit."

Laughter echoed around the room as he stared down at me. He shook his head and said, “Only you could make me laugh at what is an incredibly antagonistic situation."

"Yeah, I'm a real comedian,” I said with a toss of my head. “I'll tell you what, I'm not about to succumb to some idiot's threats. I refuse to be pushed around. It ain't happenin’ today."

Sliding from the chair, I grabbed the plates and put them back into the micro. The food was still warm, but not hot enough for me. I wanted it as hot as my temper. When the timer shut off, I slid the meals from it and placed one in front of Aaron, who had resumed his seat.

"At least the color has returned to your face. For a minute there, I thought you'd pass out,” Aaron said.

"It was a close one, but I'm back and mad as hell. Fear will not take over my life. I'm determined to bring the whole thing to an end, and I'll do whatever it takes."

"God help us.” His brow arched. “Don't act rash, please."

The fork twirled in his hand. Aaron stared at me in speculation for a moment and then dug into the scrumptious food on his plate. A moan of satisfaction issued from his throat and I laughed.

"My mother is an excellent cook, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed. She can cook for me anytime.” He chuckled between mouthfuls of food.

My own fork worked overtime as I enjoyed every bite. My mind sped forward. I'd had enough and the craft store was going to be my first stop tomorrow. If Richmond wouldn't hand over the jewels, then to hell with it, I'd get my own.

We finished dinner and went outside with glasses filled with wine. A cool, gentle breeze ruffled the leaves on the old oak tree at the end of the garage. A symphony of grasshoppers played and the hum of Japanese beetles accompanied the croak of frogs. Who needed the Boston Symphony at Tanglewood with this wonderful array of sound right here?

The silence between us was comfortable. I leaned my head back against the lounge cushion. Aaron relaxed, stretching his long legs out before him in the chair opposite me. I turned my head and asked softly, “Richmond said there's been a break in the investigation, what do you know about that?"

"We've come up with a new lead. Someone with a grudge ratted to us and all we need is hard evidence. It's nearly over, Vinnie, trust me."

"I do trust you, both of you. I know I got angry before, but it's just been difficult for me and my family lately. Livvy was pretty special to all of us and for the life of me, I can't believe she's guilty. By the way, her death certificate said the cause of death was unknown. What do you make of that?"

"The coroner couldn't find anything wrong with her. She appeared healthy so he had no choice but to put that on the certificate. Was that difficult for you?"

"Somewhat, but my mother has been hard pressed to deal with it. She doesn't cry in front of me, but she probably does so when no one is around. I've promised to find out what happened and by God, I will.” Why I was so open with this man, I can't say. It seemed like the time for honest questions and answers. Maybe this was his technique and if it was, it was damned good.

"Please stay out of it and let us do our jobs. You must realize Richmond won't thank you for any interference and neither will I."

A hint of something carried in his voice. My guess was desperation over the fact that I might act stupid. Well, it wouldn't be the first time that had happened and as far as I was concerned, it wouldn't be the last. I wanted action, the situation was on my last nerve.

"Well, I'll try not to disappoint you guys, but I'm not about to sit around and wait forever."

"Vinnie.” His eyes slanted toward me.

That one word carried a bushel of meaning, but I wouldn't consider standing down. I'd made up my mind and that was it. No one could deter me from my goal. If nobody liked it, tough cookies.

Having drained the wine from my glass, I stood up. It was time to call it a night. I turned to go inside as Aaron followed me. I took his wine glass and set it in the sink before he ambled toward the door with his newly acquired artwork. I slid the French doors closed and locked them, then followed Aaron to the kitchen door. Bolting it after he left with a smile and a peck on the cheek, I went toward the counter.

The phone rang and I picked it up without hesitation.
To hell with caution, it's time for action.

"Hello?"

"Hey Vin, it's Lola. Have you thought over the craft stone idea?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact that's my mission tomorrow. I got another call from the creep. It seems someone is watching the apartment,” I said. “Grant was here for dinner when the creep called. He knew Aaron was here with me. It makes me nuts to think someone is that close, and I can't see them."

"I can only imagine how you must feel. Do you want me to come over?"

"No, that's not necessary, thanks though. Aaron is upstairs and all I have to do is give a yell and he'll be down here in a flash."

"So, what else happened while Aaron was there for dinner?"

I could hear the sly smile that accompanied the words. I grinned and said, “Nothing, absolutely nothing. He's a good guy, but Richmond ... well, he hikes my pulse without trying."

Laughter tinkled across the line, and I laughed with her.

"I'm headed to pick that stuff up tomorrow and when the creep calls again, I'll be ready for him."

"Right, let me know what I can do to help you. This is a great adventure for me, even though it's scary as hell for you."

She disconnected. I stretched while heading into the bedroom to change my clothes. I tossed laundry onto the bed and donned a pair of boxer briefs and a silk camisole. In bare feet, I wandered into the laundry room and slid the louvered doors open to reveal the washer compartment. I'd barely loaded the dirty clothes into the machine when there was a rap on the sliding French door.