J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 05 - Season for Murder (21 page)

The cash register zipped softly as it read the numbers on Lola’s credit card. The outfit was hung in a long plastic suit bag and handed over after Lola signed on the line. The suit folded over her arm, we left the shop.

“You do realize that you’ve made Rhoda Tunda’s commission for the week, don’t you?”

“Undoubtedly, but I don’t care. It felt good to be extravagant.” Lola grinned up at me. “Didn’t find anything you liked?”

“The problem was I liked it all. No, no, I couldn’t bring myself to spring for an outfit in that store, uh, uh, not me.” I chuckled as we headed toward the sales rack in the next shop down. I found two sweaters and a pair of earrings that came to less than one pair of earrings in the other shop. The purchases were bagged while I rambled on about my budget being blown to hell. Lola and I left the store in search of a place to eat.

With a friend who’s a chef, it isn’t easy to agree on a decent fast food restaurant. We ended up in the giant-sized food court where everything from Chinese food to burgers and fries was offered. I went in one direction and Lola headed in the other looking for something delicious, filling, and unusual. Why order what we could make at home? Whenever possible, Lola and I tried eating something new. Today was not that day, but it was a food court, not an epicurean’s delight.

We’d been at the mall for about two hours. In that time, my cell phone hadn’t jingled once. My mother wasn’t in the track down mode, nor had the police department called to ask if I’d identify any new dead bodies they’d acquired. We all need to be grateful for the little things in life.

“Do you have to be somewhere? Am I holding you up?” Lola asked with concern-filled eyes.

“No, I was just thinking how quiet my cell phone has been. It’s kind of nice, actually.” I smirked.

“Oh, okay.” She ate the sorbet she’d ordered and then asked, “What have you gotten your mother for Christmas?”

“I did a pastel painting for her. The framer will have it ready next weekend. I did think a bottle of her favorite perfume might be a good idea, too. What do you think?”

“Sounds perfect. Why don’t you see if Macy’s has her scent available?”

“Sure,” I said with a nod.

Macy’s was at the other end of the mall. After I’d eaten my fill of Chinese food, I felt like I needed to hike the length of the building and then run a few miles. We walked with purpose through the huge building until Lola grabbed my arm and hauled me into the nearest store.

I tripped on the base of a tall ad stand, tipping it over, while I tried to catch my balance. On its way to the floor, the corner of the stand hooked a rack loaded with scarves. Brilliant colored scarves fluttered to my feet, and tangled around my ankles. I tried to step forward, but the scarves tightened and tripped me. In a second, a counter of sweaters had tumbled forth. My arms flailed while I crashed to the floor.

Unable to get untangled, I sat upright, wrestled with the gauzy material clustered around my feet, and tossed sweaters aside. Lola giggled helplessly as she tried to help me out. Sales personnel gathered to watch while I pulled the strips of material loose.

“You do know you have to pay for those, ma’am?” One hand on his hip and the other bent at the wrist, the salesman motioned to all that littered the floor.

“Uh, I don’t think so,” I stammered.

Unable to contain her humor, Lola knelt back on her knees and gave in to the laughter that bubbled over. I found nothing funny about the incident, though I could understand her sense of humor. I fumbled with the last scarf and handed it to her with a grimace.

“Thanks,” she said.

“What the hell is this all about, Lola?” I whispered. “Why are we in this store? We were headed to Macy’s, not to this shop.”

She handed the remaining bunch of scarves to the salesperson. A flash of the Julia smile caught my eye, but it faded. It hadn’t worked on the clerk. I sat back astounded. This had to be a first. The Julia smile always worked. It never failed to get us out of tight spots, until today.

With pink spots in her cheeks, Lola turned to me. “I thought I recognized Rafael a ways down the mall. I didn’t want him to see us,” she murmured. “I can’t face him right now.”

On my feet once more, I stared around at the crowd that had formed to gawk at my not-so-graceful landing. I stared at each person in turn with my Italian attitude in place, until they shrugged and wandered back to their usual spots. All but one salesperson left. The geek with the attitude stood posturing and pointing to the sweaters, scarves, and signs that littered the floor.

“And who will clean this mess?” With pursed lips, he tried to peer down his elongated, pointed nose at me. I stood a good three inches above him, so the effect he wanted was lost.

“That would be your job,” I said and dusted off my jeans. There was no dust, just embarrassment on my part for having been the klutz of the day.

“That is not acceptable,” he remarked in a snooty tone of voice. “If you don’t clear this debris from the floor, I’ll call security.”

“Be my guest.” I leaned toward him and then strode from the store with Lola in tow.

The salesman blustered, then ran out of the store and yelled, “Stop, thief, stop.”

I wheeled around and headed back toward the man. He backed into the store as I closed in on him, his hands fluttering upward in a protective motion. Lola clutched my arm as several security guards came running. My free hand reached toward the scrawny neck of my persecutor just as the first two-point-five officer entered the store. One of them, with his baton at the ready, identified himself as mall security. When I turned toward him, he dropped the baton and stared.

“Miss Esposito, what are you doing here?” Officer Peter DeGriek stared at me, his mouth agape.

“I’m not a thief and this man is harassing me.” I leaned toward Peter and whispered, “Did I tell you that your final grade is a B+?”

A wide smile covered his pudgy face at the thought of a passing mark he had neither worked for, nor deserved. I had to get out of this situation any way possible. With a nod and some preening, Peter swelled like a puffer fish and did his best imitation of a cop.

“I’m sure this is only a misunderstanding. I know Miss Esposito personally and can vouch for her honesty.” Other security personnel had arrived. Peter began to brag about the grade he’d acquired this semester.

How stupid could a person get? Final exams hadn’t even been administered yet. Duh, ya know?

Within minutes, the entire incident was diffused as the store clerk became enamored with one of the male security guards. I stared for a second before I eased out of the shop when he engaged the officer in conversation. He strutted back and forth to display his charms. Hey, ‘each to his own’ is my motto. If this salesman liked his own gender, that was fine with me.

The pace quickened as Lola and I hauled ass down the length of the mall. I glanced over my shoulder. I thought I saw Aaron Grant off in the distance. In an effort to make sure it wasn’t a mirage, I stopped dead and turned around. The man was now nowhere to be seen. Feeling rather foolish, I figured it had been wishful thinking that he was there. Life was too complicated at the moment, and I could use some of his soothing company.

At the perfume counter of Macy’s, I purchased my mother’s favorite bottle of scent. Advising Lola it was time to leave while we could, we couldn’t cut back through the mall to where the car was parked. It seemed prudent to walk around the outside of the massive structure. If that’s considered avoidance, so be it. I’d had enough adventure for one day.

We rounded the last corner toward the car park and stopped in our tracks. Rafael leaned against the hood of the Altima. His arms crossed, and seeming at ease, he waited for us and grinned when we got closer.

“Have some trouble in the mall, ladies?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, Lola dragged me into a store and I tripped.” That was a good enough explanation, I thought.

“Hmm, I thought you were avoiding me,” he suggested and glanced at both of us in turn.

“Why would we do that?” Lola asked.

“That’s what I was wondering.” Rafe’s glance rested on me. “Is everything all right, Vin?”

“It couldn’t be better. Why do you ask?” I lied. What else could I do?

“Just curious, that’s all. You seemed a bit frayed around the edges when the salesman called security.” His chest heaved as he laughed in silence. The smile didn’t quite warm his eyes. I wondered if he knew that we realized who and what he was.

“The twit wanted me to clean up the mess. I might have if he hadn’t been such an ass about it.” I could feel the flames of hell flicking toward my bum cheeks as I stood there thinking of lies to tell this man, who was a liar himself.

“What are you doing here?” I asked and made it obvious when I looked for the purchases that he may have made.

“Just searching for that last minute gift for my sister, but I didn’t find it.”

Another lie, I thought. Lola must have had the same thought, but before she could utter a word, I stepped to the car door and unlocked it. Tossing my bags inside, I watched Lola hang her outfit on the hook inside the car door.

“Have you heard from the cops yet about the murders of those two women?” Rafael asked.

“Nothing yet. They probably won’t tell me,” I said. “It’s curious that there isn’t even a suspect for the death of Mrs. Galumpky.”

“Mmm, if you say so. I know nothing about law and order, so I couldn’t say,” he said with a smile.

A choking sensation caught in my throat, and I started to cough. Lola slapped my back as I drew in large quantities of air to relieve the lack of oxygen. Tears streamed down my cheeks while I fought to breathe. Damn, this man was a good liar. Convincing, very convincing.

“Here,” she said. “Have a sip of water.” Lola handed me the bottle of water from the car console. I swigged a few gulps then capped the bottle tight. I handed it back and started to enter the car. Lola made an excuse to Rafe that she had to get to the deli. We left him in the lot watching us drive away.

“What the hell,” she yelled, her fist clenched. “He is such a liar. I thought you were going to choke to death over it.”

Clearing my throat, I said, “He’s good, I’ll give him that much. He’s after the money. I think he was the one after the journal last night. Maybe he’s a double agent. You know, an agent for the government and for the mob at the same time.” I pulled the car over to the street curb and turned to Lola. “I never get between family, you know that, but I’ve got to tell you this much. This man is involved in the murders way beyond an investigation. I think he did the deeds, Lola.”

For a long moment, we were quiet. No sound came from either of us as we both digested what I had just said. The thoughts had scuttled around in my brain, but hadn’t jumped out of my mouth until now. As for Lola, well, I couldn’t begin to guess what was going through her mind. Those deep, dark eyes were difficult to read. Her face was void of emotion.

“Do you have proof of this accusation, Vin?” Lola’s dark round eyes held mine.

“No, just a feeling.” Should I tell her of the dream? Would she think I’d gone bonkers? Maybe I had. Who knew for sure?

The near black-eyed stare held me for a long time, waiting for an explanation. I caved in with guilt.

“I had a dream last night, and when I woke up, I knew who broke into my house. It was Rafe. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I’ve become that he’s the killer.”

“You’re not serious, right? This doesn’t make any sense.” Lola rolled her eyes and leaned against the passenger window.

“He works for those FBI people. How could, and why would, he be the killer?” Lola asked.

“Say he’s working both sides of the street. On one side, he’s an agent and on the other, he works with crooks. The mob has laundered money through that senior center one way or another for ages. We both know that, right?”

Reluctant to admit it, Lola nodded and gave an elongated, “Yes.”

“The more I think of Rafe’s actions, and now that we know he’s been working undercover with the FBI, the more inclined I am to believe he’s been playing both sides. Rafe comes across as innocent and all that, but these guys are excellent actors. I see it all the time with the undercover cops I teach. You never know what personality you’re dealing with from case-to-case. It’s like they’re schizophrenics or something. It’s part of the job.”

“So that’s it? You have a gut feeling because of a dream?”

“That about sums it up. I’m sorry if I’ve insulted your family or hurt your feelings, Lola. Honest.”

A hefty sigh slipped from Lola as she nodded her acceptance of the apology.

“Look, if you’re right, we have to prove it, and if you’re wrong, we could end up hip deep in crapola. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Indeed I do,” I admitted. “So, how are we going to prove it either way without ending up armpit deep in shit?”

“Good question. Let’s both think on it awhile.” She straightened around in the seat and refastened her seatbelt. “Let’s go home.”

I pulled the car into traffic and headed toward the deli. The silence in the car was nerve wracking, and I searched for a way to break it. Nothing came to mind as we journeyed the back roads toward Scituate.

When I drew the car to the curb outside the deli, Lola prepared to leave. Her dark gaze met mine and she smiled. “Do you want to come in for a snack? I know you must be hungry again by now.” A giggle ended the sentence.

Relief that she wasn’t angry, or hurt, ripped through me. I smiled and agreed to the idea. I swung the car into the lot and we headed inside.

Once the garment bag with her outfit was stowed into the back closet, we sat at the stainless steel table in the kitchen and let Bill wait on us. He served bowls of stew and sandwiches before he disappeared out front. We listened to his conversation with Millie. He explained how to make the best calzone in the northeast. I chuckled and Lola grinned as we ate.

“Millie should feel special. Bill doesn’t share his cooking secrets with anyone. Have you come up with ideas on how we can prove your allegations?”

Her troubled gaze met mine.