Murder is the Pits (34 page)

Penny Sue interrupted, “Fran, we thought he
was a fisherman, but he was watching our behinds the whole time you
were away. Larry saved my life in the bus race. And he is in
contact with Rich!”

All of us nodded, knowing that meant Enrico
was FBI, DEA, Secret Service or some other clandestine government
something.

“What the heck?” Fran said, slapping
Enrico’s shoulder. “Everyone has to do something. Come back to the
house, I’ll cook you a real Italian dinner. I have a big tray of my
lasagna in the freezer, and you can meet Carlo, your great nephew,
who’s a—”

I interrupted. “—a Klingon.”

Larry/Enrico chuckled. “
Star Trek
is
one of my favorite shows.” His lips tensed, then slowly stretched
into a grin. “I
would
like to get my trunk. If I come to
your house, it can be only you, Carlo, and me. I can’t stay long,
and you’re sworn to secrecy.”

Fran patted his cheek. “Anything you want is
fine with me. Secrecy? No problem, we’re family.”

* * *

October 3, New Smyrna Beach, FL

It was noon,
and we’d already done
more than most people do in a whole day. Ruthie’s father had taken
a fall—a broken wrist and luckily not a hip. In any event, she
needed to go home as soon as possible. She was driving back with
Penny Sue—seven hours, close to what it took by plane when you
considered airport security and the commutes to and from the
airport. We’d packed the Mercedes with their essentials and I
promised to send the rest by UPS the next day.

We sat at the kitchen counter ruminating
over the events of the last eight weeks. Three hurricanes, a
nor’easter, five deaths counting Scooter, a grand slam at the
races, close to a million dollars in contributions for hurricane
victims, and I had purchased the condo next door.

All of that was weird, but the strangest
event was the phone call we received that morning from the Federal
judicial assistant who had kept postponing our depositions. Al
passed away during the night from a heart attack, so our services
wouldn’t be needed, after all.

We should be happy, yet the news was so
unexpected it left us numb. Al and his mob had been hanging over
our heads for close to a year. The Russian component—and
Enrico!—was completely unexpected. Who would have guessed the
Russians were trying to protect us? Who would have guessed
Larry/Enrico was with the government? Who would have guessed that
Pearl and her casino chiselers were a separate issue all together
and not connected to the mob war?

The doorbell rang as we were about to click
our cans of green tea and say goodbye.

Penny Sue huffed down the hall. “You know
it’s Guthrie.” She flung open the door. Wrong. It was Woody with a
giant bouquet of flowers.

“Can we call a truce?” he asked. Penny Sue
unlatched the screen door and waved him in.

“Flowers, how nice,” I said. I found a vase
under the sink and filled it with water. “This is unexpected.”

Woody looked as uncomfortable as any person
could be. “My mother’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, pretty
advanced. You did me a big favor when you didn’t press charges
against her. With her mental state, she might have gotten off if
she’d been charged, but it would have caused my family a lot of
heartache. It’s hard to believe Mom went down hill so fast and I
never noticed.”

I took the flowers, put them in the vase,
and fluffed them. I thought of my marriage with Zack. “Yeah,
sometimes we’re too close to a situation to notice what’s really
going on. Anyway, I’ve purchased the condo next door,” I said
brightly, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Then we’ll be neighbors. I’m moving my
family into Mom’s condo, our native land. Our tribe was absorbed
into the Seminoles, but this area has special meaning to me.” He
ducked his head, seeming very sincere for a lawyer. “I hope we can
put the past behind us and be friends.”

In unison, Ruthie and I parroted one of her
favorite adages, “The past is gone, it can touch me not.”

A tear streaked down Woody’s cheek. Now
Penny Sue was uncomfortable—dumbfounded to be more accurate.
Typical Penny Sue, not knowing what to do, she offered Woody a
scotch.