Dead and Disorderly (Behind the Blue Line Series Book 2) (21 page)

The male half of the older couple nodded toward the back of the restaurant, through the kitchen, and she nodded in understanding. She’d meet them out back, hopefully away from prying eyes and ears, since talking to specters that were only visible to her could look a bit awkward.

After ducking out the door and around the back, she found it thankfully unoccupied as the couple emerged from the kitchen, unnoticed by the staff who was rushing around inside. The male half held the door for the woman, presumably his wife, and they both smiled when they saw her.

They looked almost normal, a little paler than what she’d expect, but opaque like a living person. The only thing that really gave them away was the way no one around them seemed to notice their existence. This was not a family that would exclude anyone for any reason, so far as she could tell, and if there were truly there in body, somebody would have said something.

“Do I know you?” Nahia was still unclear as to how to address the dead as they stood visibly in front of her. Hopefully this pair would be more talkative than her last encounter.

The woman shook her head, and Nahia was fascinated by the way her small teardrop diamond earrings caught the afternoon sunlight. “You’re my Dominic’s girlfriend.”

She was pretty sure lying to the dead was a bad idea, so she admitted, “Somewhat. You’re who to him, exactly?”

The woman pressed a hand to her throat and flashed a nervous grin over her shoulder to her companion, who merely smiled indulgently. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I’m Donna, and this is my husband, Joe.”

The Ianuccis. That made sense, she supposed, this being her funeral and all. Nahia reached out a hand to shake theirs and then took it back with a chagrinned blush heating her face.
There needed to be some kind of etiquette manual, dammit!
She was messing up all over the place. “It’s lovely to meet you both. I’ve heard nothing but good things from Nico. He truly loved you.”

The tall man smiled broadly as he hugged his wife to his side. “We love him, too. I don’t think we’ve ever seen him so happy.” For some reason, their use of the present tense made her smile. Love truly was transcendent, after all. It was good to know.

“I’m glad. He’s kinda great.” She knew she was grinning like a lovesick teenager, but that’s how he made her feel.

Mrs. Ianucci nodded. “He feels the same. He told me all about you the last time we spoke after I came home from the hospital.”

The mention of her illness was a reminder of why they were all gathered together here, in back of the restaurant, away from the rest of the family. As much as she would love enjoying waxing on about her honey, she felt this probably wasn’t the time for small-talk. “May I ask why you wanted to see me? Rather,” she blushed again as she cringed at her wording, “why you wanted me to see you?”

Mrs. I giggled. “It’s fine, dear. This is about the letters.”

Of course it was. They were still on her kitchen table, untouched since the night before, the box still ringed in salt. Her suspicion about the murals jumped to the front of her mind. “What about them?”

Mrs. I reached down and laced her fingers with Mr. I’s, in a move Nahia had done with Nico so many times. “They belong to my brother, whom you’ve already met, apparently.”

Nahia nodded, and then came up short. “I’m sorry, your brother?” The math in her head didn’t mesh. If they came over after the war, that would make him—

Mrs. Ianucci’s voice cut into her thoughts. “My mother’s change of life baby. Joe and I took him in after he immigrated. Helped him get on his feet, much like we did with Dominic.” Pinning her down with a serious look, Mrs. I continued, “He doesn’t deserve to be trapped here. He didn’t do what he’s been accused of.”

Ah, so now the cryptic riddles start.
“Not quite sure what you mean, actually. What has he been accused of? And by whom?” And why in the hell could Aurelio not tell her himself? Near as she could figure quickly, it was probably because of the whole copious bleeding thing, but hell, he’d spoken the first time  she’d encountered him, so it was all a bit confusing.

Mrs. I smiled up at her husband, and for some reason, they seemed a bit more transparent. “Finish what you started and fix this,” she repeated with an earnest look, “and then take them to Veronica, and tell her our fate cannot be taken from us; it’s a gift. She’ll know we spoke and what to do with them.”

Really? “Should I be taking notes? Who’s Veronica? And that’s the message you want me to take to her? You sure that’s what you want?” They were now merely wisps, Nahia looked around nervously to see if anyone else could see what she did.

“Set my brother free, and look after our Dominic. He’s a good man, and you’re good together.”

Nahia was left alone, behind the restaurant, staring at the faded mocha brown of the closed kitchen door.
What the hell just happened? Really? Charged with a quest by the dead, that’s just awesome.
She growled low in her throat as she tore at her bun, suddenly overcome by a tension headache that only eased as her hair unraveled.

She was left with nothing but questions. Who was Veronica? What the hell was she supposed to do? More immediately, since she was sure he’d noticed her absence by now, what the hell was she going to tell Nico? She didn’t think that ‘conversing with your dead semi-grandmother’ would fly too well, regardless of how truthful it was.

“Did you sneak out to smoke, too?”

Nonna’s voice behind her startled her into turning around. “Oh, I—”
She…what? Was talking to her dead cousin? Had a message to deliver to someone she didn’t even know?
It was too much and her brain felt like it was leaking at the seams.

“Oh, I love your hair!” Nonna pulled a smoke out of her pack with her lips and gestured toward the turquoise streak. She looked Nahia over closely as she deftly pulled her lighter from her bosom and lit her smoke, eyes narrowing. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

Nahia touched her hair where it fell over her shoulder and looked down at her feet. Today was…this whole week was… She suddenly felt the need to bum a smoke from Nico’s grandmother. “No, Nonna. I don’t think I am okay. I just had the weirdest thing happen.”

Nico loved talking to his uncles. Uncle Richie had been on Atlantic City PD Vice before he retired to Boca and always had great stories. So did Uncle Carmine of NYPD, and Uncle Joe from up in Philly. It was times like this when he felt like he’d really taken his place in his family, had taken a small place among this pantheon of men he’d grown up revering. The additional upside was that it gave him time away from his mother.

He didn’t want to leave the acrimony between them, especially since they were leaving in a couple days, but he didn’t wish to go toe to toe over Nahia and his relationship with her every time they saw each other. It wasn’t fair to him and it wasn’t fair to Nahia, though not exactly unexpected. His mother had told him no woman was ever going to be good enough for him once, and he’d thought she was joking, at least a little bit. Maybe she’d been trying on the caricature of the typical television Italian mom, but then, Nahia was really the first one he’d brought home, as such, to meet them, so he’d never really had to test the theory.

She had been surprisingly accepting of his mother’s antipathy, even going so far as to defend her point of view to him. It was almost as if she expected she would not be welcome, which hurt him more than he wanted to ponder for any length of time. Nahia was a part of his life now, and somehow his mother was going to have to come to terms and cope.

The depths of his feelings for his beautiful eccentric far outstripped the time they’d spent together. It didn’t seem like it had only been about a week, give or take,, because he felt whole with her, and thus felt like it had been a lifetime. Just this morning, when they’d awakened together to get ready for the funeral, it had felt so natural sharing that space with her, a time he would have otherwise preferred to spend in solitary contemplation and reflection.

Looking around the room, one that was filled with short and sassy brunettes, though most of them were a relation of one sort or another, he sought her out only to come up empty. Humming in vague annoyance, he didn’t notice the empty wine glass on the bar until his mother hopped up onto the stool next to him.

“Dominic,” she muttered dismissively, signaling Simon for another round.

“Ma,” he answered immediately, knowing what he wanted to say, but not knowing how to open the conversation without a large scene breaking out in the middle of the restaurant bar. “Look I’m sorry about the other night. I—”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Today is about Donna, and that’s where my mind is. I love you, even when you make choices I don’t approve of, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” With her wine glass, she raised it lightly in a toast, and then left him alone again as she returned to her table across the room.

Well, alrighty then. So much for that
. “I love you, too, Ma.” One more scan of the room and he found two people missing, and knew immediately where to find them both. He tossed back the dregs of his whiskey in one swallow and headed out the front door.

“…and she told me to tell Veronica our fate cannot be taken from us; it’s a gift. What the hell does that even
mean
?” Nahia felt like a massive weight had been lifted from her shoulders after confessing the whole incident to Nonna. The old lady had been surprisingly receptive to what she’d told her, completely unfazed by the revelation that she was a ghost hunter who apparently actually spoke to them. She didn’t go into the whole haunted house, furniture throwing thing, since she didn’t really want to revisit it herself. Nonna actually took it quite a bit better than Nahia, but that wasn’t saying much.

Nonna had laughed as soon as she said what Mrs. Ianucci told her, a carefree laugh that made her look thirty years younger, but just for a moment. “It’s Dante. It means life is as it should be: a gift to be embraced.” She began to sniffle then, trying valiantly to hide it behind a gossamer veil of cigarette smoke. “She was my best friend, and I loved her. I’m glad you got to meet her.”

The sadness on Nonna’s face had Nahia reaching for her own tissue, even as she pressed a spare into the older woman’s hands. The more she thought about it, the more the meeting made sense. “You’re Veronica.”

Nonna nodded shakily.

“I’m sorry I made you cry.”

Waving off the apology with her tissue, she took a deep drag on her smoke. “You’re fine. It’s just been a long day.” She sniffed once more and then regarded her seriously. “Does Dominic know?”

“Does Dominic know what?” He rounded the corner with an amused look on his face until he took in their tears. He was at Nonna’s side instantly casting a worried look at his girlfriend. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and shoved him off playfully, pushing him toward Nahia, who slid easily into his embrace, finding comfort in having her head on his shoulder. “We’re fine, Nico. Just having a little girl talk.”

His grandmother snorted and tossed her cigarette down, grinding it out beneath the toe of her chunky black orthopedic shoe. “Your girl here has a gift. Did you know she can commune with the dead?”

Nahia’s eyes widened as far as they could without losing an eyeball in the alley, looking between her man and his grandmother. She hadn’t expected the old lady to dime her out quite so quickly, and she could feel the shock settle through him as he stiffened next to her. “Nico, it’s not what it sounds like.”