The Spia Family Presses On (36 page)

Sal became a high profile talent agent for full-figured models. I didn’t want to know if it was legit or not. Once they were off the property, they were no longer my concern.

But Jimmy was direct family, and if he had killed both Dickey and Peter Doyle, and probably Carla, he would have to be turned in, something the entire family had agreed upon when we first moved onto the land.

My only problem was getting hard evidence and only one person could help with that, and she was waiting for me to spring her from the Santa Rosa jail.

I wondered if normal people ever had these problems.

An hour later, after two tablespoons of our Italian blend olive oil
—
my sensitive tummy really needed it
—
and a handful of cured Lucques olives from France, crunchy but delicate with a hint of almonds and avocados, I headed up the freeway to pick up my mom. Those overworked prison guards had to be as tired of her by now as she was tired of them.

Santa Rosa was a forty-minute drive, give or take five or ten minutes depending on traffic. Of course, that didn’t take Benny’s phone call into consideration. Luckily, I had already strapped my Bluetooth earpiece around my ear before I stepped in the truck so I didn’t have to go digging for it in my purse when my phone did its doorbell ring.

It was Uncle Benny.

“Your mom’s been booked for Dickey’s murder,” he calmly said into my ear.

My speed picked up along with my heart rate, and my trusty little GPS that I’d activated through a connection in my now basically redundant cigarette lighter, estimated my time of arrival to be in exactly twenty-four minutes.

“On what grounds?” I asked, hoping against all that was even remotely good in the world this booking had no real basis and Benny could work his magic to spring her.

“The bullet in Dickey’s head came from your mom’s revolver.” Of course it did. Lisa already said it would. I tried to breathe through my nose, slowly, but my chest was locked down at the moment. The most I could do was take in a short burst of air and try not to drive into the nearest ditch.

“Are you still there?” Benny asked after what seemed like forever.

“I’m here,” I said in some deep voice I didn’t recognize. “Go on.”

“I cannot seem to get a straight answer out of anyone about how them cops came across her gun. Your mom never pulls that thing out. Where did the police find it? Do you know? As I recall, they did not have a warrant to search the house.”

“Umm,” I hesitated, so not wanting to tell him what happened.

“Are you there? Damn cell phones. I hate these things.”

I had no choice but to tell the truth. “I’m here. They didn’t need to search the house. It’s a long story, but long story-short, it fell out of a futso.”

I could hear him suck in a breath. “How did . . . in the barn?”

“Well, no, actually. Out in Mom’s parking lot.”

A moment of silence.

“You want to tell me how that happened?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Is your mother’s life important to you?”

“Do fish need water?” I didn’t know why that phrase came to mind, but I guessed because he was being ridiculous.

“Just tell me how this happened.”

I told him the sordid details and all the while I could hear him sucking on his cigar. When I finished he said, “Just tell your mom I’ll do everything I can to have her out in time for her weekly Sunday afternoon card game.”

As if that was somehow important. “I wouldn’t want her to miss that,” I shot back, knowing I sounded like a total bitch.

“Mia, it is the routines of life that keeps your mom happy. You of all people should know that by now.”

“You’re right.” But this changed everything. My mom’s life was truly at stake.

“You need to reassure her that everything is going to be fine.”

Like anyone had that kind of power over my mom. “Me? Why me? Can’t you do the reassuring? Seems as if you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

That didn’t come out the way I’d hoped.

“Yeah, so what? Your mother needed comforting when she found out Dickey got it, so I spent a little time with her in the house right after we found him while you and Lisa were busy entertaining Leonardo and his cop friend. One thing led to another and now me and your mother are, shall we say, officially an item. But right now I have to concentrate on the paperwork to get her out of there, and you have to be a good daughter and convince her that this rap will never stick.”

That explained his absence from the porch the night Dickey was killed. At least I knew he wasn’t in the barn moving the body. He was in the house moving my mom.

“Do you know who did it?” I asked him.

“I am working on it, but I have to admit, going legit has its limitations.”

This was not the news I wanted to hear. I was probably closer to tracking down the killer than he was.

How did this happen?

“But why did my mom take Leo and Nick out to the barn that night if she knew Dickey was in there?” Something that had always bugged me.

“What, you think I am crazy? I did not divulge the details of Dickey’s whack to your mom. She was in no state to hear it. I merely told her that he had met with an unfortunate end. It was all she needed to know at the time.”

This was good news. “But she lied about the worker cutting his hand on the millstone. Why would she do that?”

“Sweetheart, your mom has been around the block. Give her some adlib credit, will you?”

“So my mom didn’t lie, she improvised?”

“Yeah, that is what she does. She improvises.”

And to finally understand the way my mother’s mind works?

Priceless.

“Okay. I’ll talk to her, but can I see her so soon after she’s been booked?”

“Yes. I got a special circumstance approval from the shift supervisor for you just a little while ago.”

“How did you know I’d agree to this? Wouldn’t it be easier if you just bailed her out?”

“It’s going to take a few hours for the family to raise bail. Besides, you know how to handle your mom better than I do.”

“You owe me,” I told him. “Big time.”

“Sure, hon. Whatever you want.”

“A different family.”

“That I cannot do.”

“Then, don’t make offers you can’t keep.”

“I will try to remember that next time.”

He chuckled and hung up.

I hit number two on my phone and Lisa picked up on the first ring. “My mom’s been booked. She’s in jail for Dickey’s murder. The bullet in his head was from her gun just like you said, but please don’t tell me Nick already told you ‘cause I won’t be able to handle that you didn’t tell me as soon as you found out. I mean, my nerves are pretty much shot right now and knowing that my best friend
—
”

She interrupted me. “Mia, of course I didn’t know. He wouldn’t tell me something like that, and if he did, I’d have called you the minute I knew. So stop fretting and slow down.”

I backed my lead foot off the gas. I had been doing almost ninety. “But how did you know I was driving?”

“I didn’t. I was talking about slowing down your emotions.”

“Oh,” I said now that the speedometer read sixty-five. “That too.” I eased my death grip on the steering wheel.

“I haven’t heard from Nick since last night. When did this happen?” She sounded sleepy.

“I don’t know. Benny just told me. I was on my way to Santa Rosa to pick up my mom, and now it’s just for a visit. This could get ugly.”

“Look at it this way. You’ll finally be able to talk to her alone.”

She made my mom’s incarceration seem like an advantage.

“Do you always look at the bright side of things?”

“Only when my best friend is running on empty. You probably hardly slept last night, and I know you’re not eating, which describes the life of a teenager, but not a thirty-year-old woman. You’re going to self-destruct if you don’t slow down.”

“I’ll slow down when I’m on that plane to Maui.”

“We’re still going? I thought now that your mom
—
”

“Nothing, short of my own death, can keep me from going.”

“You made my skin prickle. Don’t say that kind of shit out loud. Not while there’s a killer running around in the family nest.”

I let out a heavy sigh. She was so right.

“One more thing to add to the family tree, whoever killed Dickey had it all planned.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. After catching Liz last night this sleuthing thing is getting easier. Thugs always seem to screw-up. We just have to find the screw-ups. Wait. I just realized your phone is working. Since when?”

“Since my mom picked up a new one this morning. There’s a real saint under all that bluster. They were able to save my SIM card so everything’s cool.”

When she said “cool,” I thought of Jimmy and an idea saturated my thoughts. “Hey, what are you doing later this afternoon? I’m thinking we should pay Jimmy a visit. Clues are adding up in his favor, especially since my conversation with Hetty.”

“Don’t jump to any conclusions until you talk to your mom. There’s no telling what she might say now that she’s facing a life sentence. Maybe Benny did it, or Ray. Did you ever think of that?”

“Benny was still in witness protection when Carla was murdered, and Ray was living in New Jersey running his fake plumbing business. As for killing Dickey we would have never found the body if either one of them did it. Those guys traveled in higher circles. No, either Jimmy did it himself or he’s connected to the person who did. I really need you to come with me when I talk to him.”

“Can’t,” Lisa said. “I have a signing in an hour, but it shouldn’t last more than a few hours. I can meet you afterwards.”

“Your signing’s go that long? What do you talk about?”

“I don’t. It takes that long for me to sign all the books.”

“Who are you and what did you do with my best friend who once refused to read anything other than comic books?”

“I shut her down and replaced her with a clone of an English major.”

“Oh, that’s right. I seem to remember a dorm room, and a campus of some sort, but everything else is just a blur. Too bad. I might have a different life right now if I’d paid attention. One that doesn’t include trying to finger my cousin’s murderer or talking to yet another family member behind bullet proof glass.”

“I’ve never done that. Take me with you next time?”

“I’m hoping there won’t be a next time.”

“Sorry, sweetie, that’s my life, not yours.”

“Rub it in why don’t ya?”

She giggled. “Gotta run. Call me later. I’ll meet you at Jimmy’s bar. Wait. I don’t think you should be hanging around there alone. Might not be safe. I have a bad feeling about this. On second thought, maybe you should wait for me. Safety in numbers and all of that.”

She had a point. Jimmy was now suspect number one, and he might not react well to my snooping. “I’ll call Federico and have him meet me there. He’ll act as my body guard.”

“Good idea. Where’s the ring?”

“Around my neck. Still seems like the safest place.”

“Seems like it makes you a huge target.”

“Only if the wrong person finds out about it.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be. Federico won’t let anything happen to me.”

“Okay, but be careful. Damn, I wish you’d read my books.”

“Believe me, so do I.”

We clicked off and I immediately phoned Federico who was more than happy to meet me at Jimmy’s bar.

My mom was already seated on the other side of the Plexiglas when I walked into one of several tiny, cream-colored, private visiting rooms of the jail. The rectangular space was brightly lit, with a half-glass door behind me and the same behind her. The walls were constructed out of sturdy cinderblock, and thickly painted in that yellowish white that institutions seem to favor. All in all, it gave off that clean secure effect one comes to grow accustomed to when your last name happens to be Spia.

It was the first time I’d been in this particular institution, and it was far cheerier than say, Folsom, where Uncle Ray had spent a good portion of his life. There was nothing cheery about gray, overcrowded Folsom where Ray hobnobbed with the likes of Charles Manson and other more noteworthy villains.

Mom seemed almost jolly despite her incarceration. It wasn’t the first time she’d been booked and printed. According to what little I remembered this would be number three. Of course, the other two turned out to be misdemeanors, and let’s not forget she was taken in for questioning when my dad disappeared, but getting booked for an actual murder had to be an entirely different experience.