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Authors: Melodie Campbell,Cynthia St-Pierre

Tags: #Mystery

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BOOK: A Purse to Die For
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It was nighttime again.
The
worst
time
.
T
onight it was thundering and lightning
. S
he pleaded
with
Mom
to
let her leave one light on, but the shadows were still spooky even if Macho told her not to be afraid.

"
But
,
Macho, something could happen here in my room and they
'
d all be playing cards downstairs or sleeping in their own rooms
. T
hey wouldn
'
t notice anything was wrong until next morning when they found me dead in my bed.
"

Not like Grandma
,
Macho said.

"
Exactly
like Grandma.
"

She lay awake and tried to count sheep
. T
he sky g
rew
lighter and lighter as the night wore on
. T
he moon came out from behind the clouds
. I
t was kind of pretty
,
but all she wanted was for the moon to go to sleep and the sun to come up.

 

 

 

Chapter 9

 

Gina stood at the bedroom window and gazed out onto the backyard. It seemed to go on for miles and miles in the dark. And that
'
s just the way she felt—in the dark.

A windfall of two million dollars. Grandma dying of cancer. Tony not her cousin. What else hadn
'
t she known? How were you supposed to keep your balance when everything you thought to be true suddenly got turned on its head?

"
We
'
ve got to talk,
"
Tony had whispered after dinner when they were clearing the plates.

"
Not now,
"
she had said.
"
I need to help Becki and Ian clear up.
"

"
Then meet me at—
"

"
Tony, can we do this tomorrow?
"
She felt the panic rise.
"
It
'
s nearly nine. I
'
m exhausted. I just want to go to bed.
"

She could see his eyes turn dark with disappointment. He moved away a bit, and looked so unhappy she almost recanted.

Because it wasn
'
t true. She wasn
'
t tired…only scared of facing the confrontation. That there would be one, she was sure. They would have to talk about this new aspect to their relationship. Could things go on as before? Could she pretend nothing had changed? The barrier of blood that had braced Gina for keeping her feelings in check was now gone. Vanished.

She would face it tomorrow when they met for breakfast. Everything would be clearer in the morning. She turned from the window, just missing the lone figure as it raced across the lawn.

 

What a hell of a day.
Tony didn
'
t feel like going to bed yet. When a truck hits you in the face, you don
'
t feel like sleeping. He went in search of a stiff drink.

Jerry was sitting on the library sofa holding a glass.

"
See you had the same idea,
"
he said with a welcome grin.

Tony headed to the drinks trolley, reached for a glass and poured whiskey from a decanter.
"
The drink of life,
"
he said grimly.
"
Cheers.
"
He flopped down in an easy chair.

Jerry saluted with his glass.
"
Linda is doing some sort of facial thing. Can
'
t stand that kind of primping, so I cleared out.
"

Tony nodded. He wasn
'
t feeling a desire for female company at the moment.

He gazed about the room. What a handsome place. He
'
d always loved the oak-panelled walls, the big stone fireplace and the comfortable furniture. When Tony was young, he thought there must be a thousand books in here. One rainy day he went about counting them. He counted all day in between meals, stopping only when he reached three thousand. And that wasn
'
t half.

"
The thing I can
'
t figure out is where she got the money from.
"
Jerry was raring to talk.
"
Eight million dollars, for crissake. How come I didn
'
t know about it?
"

The old clock struck a quarter chime. Tony drank from the glass and pondered his reply.

"
Where the heck did she get it?
"
Jerry continued to puzzle.

Tony was silent. Then he made his decision.
"
She inherited it from Italy two years ago. Some great uncle died, leaving her and two other cousins a bunch of apartment buildings in Palermo. They bought her out.
"
So the cat was out of the bag. Let the chips fall where they may.

Jerry rose to his feet.
"
You knew? She told you?
"

Tony nodded.

"
How long have you known?
"

"
From the beginning.
"

Jerry started to pace like a caged animal.
"
I can
'
t believe it. Does anyone else know?
"

"
Just you now. She made me promise.
"

"
Why you and not me?
"
Jerry insisted.
"
I
'
m her son—why didn
'
t she tell me?
"

"
That
'
s simple,
"
Tony offered.
"
I
'
m the only one in the family who speaks proper Italian. Remember, I did that exchange program in Rome for my degree. The papers from Italy were in the Siena dialect, which is what they now call
Italian
. Grandma was born in Palermo. She spoke and read only the Sicilian dialect. She needed someone who could translate and she wanted someone in the family.
"

He left it at that. No need to point out both Jerry and Reggie would have figured out a way to get at that money
. A
nd Grandma damn well knew it.

"
Oh. That makes sense.
"
Jerry ran a shaky hand through his hair.
"
But why didn
'
t she tell me after? Why didn
'
t she trust me?
"

Tony sighed.
"
Jerry, you know how she was. She loved knowing a secret and holding it over everyone. She probably would have told you eventually when she could have used it for something, like preventing you from going away. I don
'
t know.
"

Jerry plunked down on the sofa.
"
The crafty old bitch.
"
He finished the glass of whiskey and slammed it down on the end table.
"
One thing for sure. Wait until good ol
'
Reg hears about this. Eight million dollars right under his very nose all this time and he doesn
'
t even know it
'
s there.
"
He started to laugh and when the tears started to fall down his face, Tony joined in.

 

 

 

Chapter 10

 

Carla woke rather suddenly. It was morning. She didn
'
t know how she dared, but she poked Reggie several times to wake him.
He
dragged himself into a half-sitting position and pulled the covers up over his torso. She noted his rheumy eyes and his slackened limbs. He never woke up alert the way she did.

"
Woke up in the middle of the night and you were gone
,
"
she
said
.

"
Huh? Give me a break. What time is it?
"

"
Heard you talking on the phone before supper yesterday. You agreed to meet someone in the alley last night. That where you were, Reggie?
"

"
None of your business
.
"

"
You all paid up now?
'
Cause I
'
ve decided I
'
m not gonna deal with your gambling anymore. Not your gambling. Not your fists. None of it!
"
She glared at him.

"
What
'
s got into you?
"

"
You snuck out again. After you promised
.
"

"
Well, where were
you
?
"
he demanded.
"
When I got back,
you
were gone.

"
Had to pee,
"
she said.
"
Then I checked on our daughter. That
'
s where I was. And you
'
re in no position to point fingers. Don
'
t even know why I let you sleep, when I came back and saw you lying there snoring.
"

"
Admit it, baby, you love me,
"
he said, his voice like butter.

His skin was warm when he touched her. No, hot. He kissed her lips. She smelled his masculine scent. Damn, but he could always make her believe.
"
Maybe there
'
s hope…
"
she said, pulling away,
"
…and only because Mom left Nellie a fortune…and we can make a good life…like we planned long ago. Make Nellie happy. Travel all over the world if we want to. But not if you ruin it, Reggie
.
"

His bedroom eyes examined her.

"
I
'
ll divorce you,
"
she threatened.
"
I
'
ll get custody of our daughter and you
'
ll be out in the cold, Reggie. I mean it!
"

"
What you talking about, woman?
"

"
I deserve better than I
'
ve been getting,
"
she said, traitor tears accumulating.
"
I so deserve better
.
"

"
Can
'
t get better than me, baby,
"
he said—confident, seductive Reggie.

 

"
Oh my Lord! What
'
s going on now?
"
Becki wondered. Out her bedroom window she saw three police cars lined up along the curb in front of the house.

Must be a hostage situation.

"
Mom, be reasonable.
"

Maybe Nellie
'
s been kidnapped.

"
God forbid!
"

A drunk and disorderly?

"
Don
'
t you
know
what
'
s happening, Mom?
"

Since when have I ever been able to tip you off about something before you found out for yourself?

"
Makes me think being dead doesn
'
t have that many advantages.
"

You
'
re telling me!

Becki dressed hastily. She wasn
'
t a robe kind of person. Especially not when staying at someone else
'
s house. She pulled on a clean pair of black jeans, which obviously shrunk last time she washed them. A black t-shirt, which seemed snug too. Made sense. Vegetarians are prone to excessive carb consumption. Next, she combed her dark hair into a pony tail. She found if she kept it tight enough, there was a slight lifting effect to the face. She unrolled a pair of socks and slipped them on. Washing her face and applying all the various creams that were necessary when you were
fifty
would have to wait until she reassured h
ersel
f everything was fine. T
he police cars were only parked in front of 123 Hawthorne because...

Down the stairs. No one in the library. No one in the living room. No one in
the dining room.

She poked her head into every room, including Godmom
'
s quarters, just in case, but the ground floor was empty. False alarm. Plenty of time to go back upstairs, even have a bath before breakfast, then her long trip home. She glanced out a back window to assess the kind of day it was going to be after the unsettled weather last night.

She spotted a police car in the alley behind the garage. Not to mention a blue-uniformed cop. She left the house by the back door. Crunching maple leaves underfoot, she waved to Gina. Gina was wearing a lovely, form-fitting jogging outfit. Becki didn
'
t think it was tight because it somehow shrunk in the wash. Usually friendly, Gina didn
'
t wave back. Instead, she bent over like she had stitches in her side. Or needed to redirect blood to her head so she wouldn
'
t pass out. Or was about to hurl.

Tony dashed to Gina
'
s side. Then he looked up at Becki and made an awkward, jerky movement. Not an effective salutation. Somehow, the whole scene whispered
sinister
. However, not being a just-ignore-what-you-don
'
t-want-to-know kind of woman, Becki continued on. Cops barked ominous commands. A woman sitting on a bench turned.

"
Mandy!
"
Becki exclaimed. She bent down and hugged this dear woman—was surprised to find her cheek cold and moist.
"
Been such a long time! So nice to see you!
"

"
And you.
"
But Fiorenza
'
s daughter-in-law, Tony
'
s mother, directed her eyes toward yellow plastic tape, wrapped carelessly around trees and other less natural markers.

And Becki saw what the fuss was all about. Inside the barrier was a body.

 

Most people just ignore six-year-olds. But the detective Nellie saw at Grandma
'
s funeral had set up in the library and he was interviewing everybody. Including her. Mom walked into the room with her. Held her hand.

Nellie peered up at
the detective
. He was sitting behind the desk. The lamp she
and Mom
liked was turned on
and a
ll sorts of pretty colours reflect
ed
off the top of the desk. They were told to sit in the chairs in front of him
,
like he was the teacher and they were the students.

"
Nellie, I
'
m Detective Dumont. How
'
re you?
"

"
Fine.
"

"
Did your mom tell you what happened?
"

"
Yes.
"

"
Will you answer some questions for me?
"

"
Okay.
"

He got up, pushed his chair back
and
walked down one side of the room. She didn
'
t follow him with her eyes. Didn
'
t want to.

"
Did you notice anything different about last night?
"
he asked, his voice coming now from the back of the room.

"
Last night it was thundering and lightning out,
"
she said.

Mom nodded
,
smiled at her and squeezed her hand as if saying,
'
Y
ou
'
re doing fine.
'

"
Anything else?
"

"
Couldn
'
t sleep.
"

"
Why couldn
'
t you sleep?
"
he asked, his voice floating across from the other side of the room.

"
Scared.
"

"
Of what?
"

"
Lightning
.
"
Duh.

"
Did you hear anything out of the ordinary?
"

"
Where?
"

"
Anywhere.
"

"
The grown-ups downstairs. We had company.
"

"
What were the grown-ups doing?

"
Eating, drinking, talking and stuff.
"

"
Did anyone come up and see you?
"

"
Not after Mom tucked me in.
"

Detective Dumont slumped back into his chair.
"
If I show you a picture of a woman, would you be able to tell me if you
'
ve seen her before?
"

"
Guess so.
"

He passed a picture to Mom
, who
examined it carefully, like when she looked through books Nellie picked out at the library before they checked them out.
She
passed the picture to
Nellie
.

Because Mom had said some strange lady was found at the end of their property, Nellie expected it to be a picture of someone she didn
'
t know. Someone she
'
d never seen. But when she glanced at the picture, she jumped in her seat and a noise flew out from the back of her throat. She suddenly didn
'
t want to hold the photo. Her hand wobbled when she handed the picture back to Detective Dumont.

"
Recognize her?
"

She remembered the night when she woke up and waited for Mom to come in and check on her
. T
he bedroom door
had
creaked open and light from the hall shone on the heavy curtains covering her window and the foot of her bed where her animals were lined up
,
and the blank wall beside her bed where Mom
'
s silhouette projected like a shadow puppet growing larger as she approached the bed
. N
ot turning her head

because she was supposed to be asleep
—Nellie had
opened her eyes just a
bit
and
found
some
other
woman lean
ing
over
her.

"
Ahhh!
"

Nellie thought she
'
d better not say the other woman looked as surprised in the photo as when Nellie yelled,
"
I want Mom!
"

But the detective prodded,
"
You have something you want to say?
"

She shook her head.

"
Tell me,
"
he said, his voice rising.

Mom frowned at him. Mom never let anyone, not even Father, raise his voice at her.

"
Can I ask a question?
"
Nellie wondered.

BOOK: A Purse to Die For
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