Read Dirty Trouble Online

Authors: J.M. Griffin

Dirty Trouble (15 page)

BOOK: Dirty Trouble
7.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

I heaved a sigh of relief.

“The line was busy,” she stated and shrugged. “Order your lunch, Lavinia. I refuse to leave without lunch. The ravioli is splendid. Have some, it will do you good. You’re looking a little peaked and in need of a good meal.”

A good meal? That’s what I needed? Good golly!
What I needed was a psychiatrist, a savior, anybody please. My mind frayed around the edges. I damn near fainted from relief that Muffy
hadn’t
shot the mobster in front of his cronies, half the Hill, and me. Cripes. How did I end up in these situations?

Andre hustled over and stood in front of us with a smile bursting at the seams. He glanced at Muffy and then at me. I got a wink and then he asked for our order. He didn’t have a pad to write on, and I wondered if he was good enough that he could remember every order, of every person he waited on. Do they teach that in cop school? I don’t teach it in my criminalistics classes.

We ordered pasta, salad, and wine. I figured I might get some of the food down my throat, barring any further outbursts or dramatics from my wayward aunt. I never should have agreed to lunch – but there hadn’t been much choice. Maybe the wine would bring my blood pressure back to normal. If I were lucky enough, there wouldn’t be a homicide while we were in this chic restaurant, either.

When Andre brought our lunch, I left the table and headed toward the Ladies’ Room. Sure I’d be waylaid on my return, I dawdled a bit, hoping to avoid Antonio or his goons should they be waiting for me. I hung out in the spotless little room for a few moments longer than necessary, and then headed back to the table after peeking out the door.

Several tall potted palms with fanned fronds were clustered together near the end of the corridor. A hand reached out as I approached the plants. Someone hauled me into a small closet and closed the door. My first reaction was to reach up and touch someone rather hard with my fisted knuckles. I glanced up at the owner of the hand and realized it was Andre.

“Don’t do it, Lavinia. I just need a word with you,” he said under his breath, his hand enclosing my fist.

He grinned when I stepped closer and whispered, “What the hell are you doing here? Moonlighting?”
Dumb question, huh?

“Not likely,” he mumbled softly. “What would a nice girl like you be doing here?” The emerald green eyes held my gaze.

“My aunt insisted we come here for lunch. Why?”

We whispered as heavy feet sounded on the carpeted corridor nearby. Andre put his finger to my lips, reached out, and shut the light off. Nervous doesn’t come close to what I felt. The day continued to worsen instead of getting better. At least it wasn’t mundane.

I heard a man turn the corner and utter Italian words to someone with him. The man grunted an answer. Their voices faded and Andre turned the light back on. I glared at him for a second.
What the hell was going on?

“Have your lunch and get the hell out of here. The FBI has the place staked out. We’re waiting for one false move, and its goodbye to these thugs. Don’t get involved with these people, Lavinia,” he whispered.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get Auntie out of here right after lunch. I promise.” Quickly, moving away from him and the cramped space, I left the confines of the closet. At the end of the corridor, I scooted toward the dining room.

“Is everything all right, dear? You look a bit upset,” Auntie remarked when I slid into the seat.

“Everything is fine, Auntie. Let’s just eat and head home. I’ve got so much to do.” Anything was better than sitting amongst the mob, waiting for a hit. My imagination once again moved like a freight train. I was hard pressed to stop it.

Each time Andre Messino ushered someone into the room, I waited for an incident to take place, an incident where my aunt would haul off and slug someone. Instead, she merely nodded as mobsters passed our table to join Antonio.

My fear continued to climb as fast as my curiosity. What did these gangsters talk about while eating plates of pasta? Did they compare notes on upcoming slayings? Or was their conversation more on the humdrum side where they talked about their prostate problems. None of them were young – or virile, for that matter. At least I didn’t see them as virile.

We finished lunch, drained our coffee, and fled from Federal Hill. I waved to the invisible FBI folks as we left the restaurant. Either they were holed up in an apartment across the street or in a van nearby. It didn’t matter, since I would never come back to Da Ravioli again, and didn’t want to cause anyone grief. FBI agents aren’t always the friendliest of folks, and they have absolutely no sense of humor in these instances.

Auntie dropped me off at my parents’ house, at my request. A black Yukon SUV, with license plate HIRLLR, sat in the driveway.
Why was Aaron here?
I strode up the driveway and quietly entered the house.

The kitchen, empty and silent, held no signs of the occupants whatsoever. Voices issued from the living room, though, and I sidled up near the door to listen. I know it’s rude and one never hears well of oneself in an eavesdropping situation, but my curiosity got the better of me. If Aaron had the nerve to interrogate my mother, I wanted to know what it concerned.

“So you see, Lavinia has worked hard to become successful. Her brother did, too, though my husband made things easier for him,” Mom said.

“I see. Does Vinnie have any issues with this DeGreico character?”

“He did give her a terrible time, but I think that’s behind them now.”

Bless her soul, my mother thinks well of everyone. She hesitated to say anything bad. Unless it was at the umpire at my brother’s baseball games in high school, that is. I stood silent and waited.

Aaron’s deep voice continued, “It’s a shame Vinnie endured such torment from him. She’s a lovely and high-spirited woman.”

“She is. You know, when Tony haunted her, Lavinia never uttered a sound to us about it. It wasn’t until her apartment was set on fire that we found out. Gino was beside himself. He wanted to set the young man straight, but Lavinia would have none of it. She told him to let the law handle things.”

“How did Mr. Esposito intend to accomplish that, Mrs. Esposito?” Aaron asked.

I decided now was the time for my entrance. I stepped through the door and said, “Hey, you two. What’s going on?” The wide smile pasted on my lips assured everyone that things were fine. However, things were far from it. Aaron was here using my mother to gather information, and I didn’t like it – especially that last question.

“Hi, Lavinia, what are you doing here?” My mother glanced at her watch and stood up. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry to say it, but I’m going to be late if I don’t leave in a few minutes.” She glanced at Aaron and me.

Aaron’s gaze rested on me as I leaned against the door casing, hand on my hip. He smiled and rose from the armchair in greeting. His lips brushed my cheek.

“Auntie dropped me off, and I thought you could give me a ride home,” I said to my mother. “It’s a good thing Aaron is here since you’re going out, isn’t it?” I smiled.

“Sure is, dear. Sorry, I have a function at the ‘elderly housing’ complex shortly and can’t give you a ride. Your father is out with his Knights of Columbus friends arranging some type of fund-raiser. Since you and Aaron live in the same building, I’m sure he can drive you home.” Her glance leveled on Aaron and she smiled. “Can’t you?”

“Certainly, Mrs. Esposito, I’ll be happy to take Vinnie home,” he said.

Did he realize I overheard the conversation? If he did, he showed no sign of it. Did he care? I figured those would be two of the questions I’d ask, among others, on the ride home.

I turned to him once again and nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate the lift. I’ll meet you outside. I need to speak to my mother – alone.”

Dark eyes peered at me for a moment before he nodded. His long stride took him through the house, and outside. When he was out of earshot, I leaned toward my mother. I whispered to her about court and the actions of my aunt at the restaurant. She chuckled when I told her how Antonio blanched and sweated when Auntie reached inside her bag.

She whispered back, “That’s an old trick she used when we were young. One time she pulled out an apple and threw it at Johnny Mulroney. Then she started carrying a loaded squirt gun. When she got a hard time from anyone, they got soaked. It earned her a reputation.” She glanced around and then back at me. “Why are we whispering, dear?”

“I don’t need my neighbor knowing everything about our family, Mom. So watch what you tell him in the future, okay?”

“All right, dear – if you say so. We were just talking about Tony DeGreico and your job, things like that. Aaron is a personable and charming man.”

I recognized that wishful look on her face again and knew it was time to flee. I said my goodbyes and left the house.

Outside Aaron casually leaned against the truck, long legs in fitted jeans stretched out before him. A burgundy sweatshirt fit his muscled upper torso like it was made especially for him. He was a handsome hunk, but also an FBI agent on the hunt. My anger must have shown, since Aaron was quick to explain his visit to my mother.

“I happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop in to see your mother,” he said all innocent-like, when we climbed into the truck.

“I’m sure,” I answered with sarcasm. “This street is far out of anyone’s way. You just happened to fall into the neighborhood, right? That’s your story? You’re sticking to that, are you?” My voice sounded testy even to me. So far, I had a trying day, my head ached, and his visit to my parents’ house hadn’t made things any easier.

“Why are you so upset, Vinnie? Has something happened?” Dark eyebrows rose in concern as we left the neighborhood and started the drive toward Scituate.

“What happened?” I faced him with a look of incredibility on my face. “You went to visit my mother, probably knowing full well that my father was out. You worked her for information about me and our family. Why is that, Aaron?”

“It isn’t what you think,” he began.

“How the hell do you know what I think? Do you ask? No, you don’t. You just start digging around in places you have no business going. In the future, if you want to know something about my family, or me, you damned well better ask me instead of my mother. Got that?” I guess my temper was on the rise, since my voice echoed off the truck windows.

We reached the Scituate Reservoir land, not far from the village. Aaron pulled the Yukon over to the side of the road. He cut the engine and leaned against the side window, his gaze wandering over my face. The silence between us lengthened while I glared at him.

“I can see it’s been a tough day, Vin. I’m sorry if you’re offended that I went to see your mother. This fire incident concerns me greatly, and I’m trying to figure out who’s behind it. The car crash was bad enough, but with the fire added to it, well, it seems more than coincidental. That’s all, nothing more.”

“Fine. Just remember in the future, if you want any information, ask me and not my mother. Got that?”

“Yeah, I got it. Loud and clear.” His eyes took on a twinkle.

I stared.

“Does this mean I can’t go to dinner there anymore?” A chuckle followed the question.

It was too hard for me to stay angry, so I sat back and smiled. I’d suffered another overreaction attack, which had become a bad habit.
Maybe I’d read him wrong once again and didn’t that make me feel a tad foolish?
Uh, huh.

“I guess you can go to dinner. Just don’t go without me, that’s all. Okay?”

“Sure thing.” He chuckled, started the truck, and took me home.

 

Chapter 14

 

Aaron parked on the street in front of the house, and we walked back toward the garage. The rancid smell of charred wood filtered through the breeze from the back corner of the building, which lay in ruins. What the fire hadn’t destroyed, the firefighters had. I walked around the old structure, inside and out, taking stock of the damage.

When I stepped outside, Aaron rounded the other corner. He peered into the garage and shook his head. We turned and wandered toward the deck on the back of the house. The poor evergreen was fried to a crisp, the branches charred. The ground at the base lay covered with ashes from the burned greenery.

“I guess that evergreen tree is done for.” I said on a light note. I wasn’t really in a lighthearted mood, mind you.

“I’d say so. The garage can be repaired though,” Aaron offered. “I know a guy who does this sort of thing for a reasonable price, if you’re interested.”

“Sure, just give me his name, and I’ll call him. Have you spoken to the fire marshal?”

“Not yet. Maybe Marcus has a preliminary report. By the way, did you want to pick up your new car? I totally forgot about it.”

With a grin, I glanced at the handsome brute. “I did. It’s been a long and nerve-wracking day, but I do want to pick it up. Can I hitch a ride?”

“Sure thing, ma’am.” His eyebrows waggled while his smile brought a wide grin to my face.

“Sorry I lost my temper earlier. I get overprotective of my family, especially after last summer.”

A muscular arm swung over my shoulder as he leaned in close and kissed my brow.

“No problem, beautiful. I understand.”

This was a term he’d never used before and it brought a smile to my face. While Marcus was forthright with his feelings and overtures, Aaron used a more conservative approach. There was no doubt in my mind that he found me attractive and wanted a relationship. However, Marcus won my heart, hands down.

The French door slid sideways after I unlocked it, and I turned to Aaron. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready to pick up the car. I just need to get some paperwork and my checkbook.”

“Sure, I’ll check my messages and be right down. Okay?”

With a nod, I sauntered into my office and shuffled through a load of paperwork from the car dealership. My cell phone jingled when I turned to leave. The number displayed was Richmond’s, and I answered on the second jingle.

BOOK: Dirty Trouble
7.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Johnny V and the Razor by Ryssa Edwards
In Harmony by Helena Newbury
Tangled by Mary Balogh
Phantom Eyes (Witch Eyes) by Tracey, Scott
Kill Shot by J. D. Faver
An Ensuing Evil and Others by Peter Tremayne
Entombed by Keene, Brian