J.M. Griffin - Vinnie Esposito 05 - Season for Murder (25 page)

“This is so much better than my plan. Bill Princely might cover the deli, so I can help you out. When do you want to meet with Jimmy?”

Reluctant to get Lola directly involved, I hesitated. With my luck things would run amuck and we’d all be in danger. If my father ever found out I was meeting Jimmy “The Pipe” for anything whatsoever, he’d jump all over me for it. I’d never hear the end of it at mealtime, and would undoubtedly starve to death because I wouldn’t go there for dinner anymore. My thoughts ran like a train off the tracks until I pulled them up short and mentally scolded myself for being silly.
On the other hand
, my little voice said,
you know what you’re doing is foolish and tempting fate.

Yeah, yeah, I thought, and tried to shut the voice off. In an effort to end my mental conversation, I stood up from the counter and asked Lola if she was sure she wanted to go along with my harebrained scheme.

“Of course,” Lola blustered. “I can’t let you work through this alone. What kind of friend do you think I am?” The sparkle was still in her eyes, the Julia smile teetered around the corners of her mouth.

“Well, then, we’ll get this underway tomorrow. I’ll call you early in the morning, okay?” I smiled. Surely, there was no way I could talk her out of it even if I’d wanted to.

“Count me in,” Lola said with an air of excitement. “I’ll be at the deli early, but I’ll call Bill right now.” After Lola had asked him to take over the next day, she assured Bill everything was fine when he questioned her.

Unwilling to request help during the day, lately Lola had indulged herself with hours off from work. Winter brought less traffic to the deli, which allowed Lola to catch her breath. In the spring, summer, and fall, the deli ran full tilt and her workdays were long.

We finished the meal and drank most of the wine. By the time Lola left, she was filled with anticipation over our next venture into the realm of danger. I flicked lights off as I ambled through the apartment. The gas-fired flames dimmed and went out in the fireplace when I lowered the thermostat.

Grateful for the silence in the apartment, and in my head, I wandered toward the bedroom to get ready for bed. It had been an eventful day and tomorrow would be no different. I snuggled under the covers in the soft darkness, the down comforter tucked under my chin.

My mind traveled over what could go wrong with my plan. The possibilities seemed endless. What if Aaron was really in Washington and not in Rhode Island? Would there be a confrontation between me and Rafe if he showed up unexpectedly? What would happen then? Was I out of control or just sick of the whole issue at hand? On a hefty sigh, I flipped over on my side.

In silence, I lectured myself over the fact that I couldn’t predict what would or wouldn’t happen. The only answers I found were of the ‘do the best you can’ nature.

Chapter 22

Hours crawled past. I finally fell into a fitful sleep. The next thing I knew, the sun had crept across the bed and over my face. I stretched and yawned before tumbling from under the covers to begin a crazy day. How crazy? I was yet to find out.

The phone rang. Muffy was on the line. She said Jimmy agreed to meet us around eleven for a cup of espresso and a pastry. Jimmy didn’t need pastry and neither did I, I thought irrationally. I agreed to pick Muffy up around ten-thirty after I swung by for the cookies from my mother.

“You must be desperate to meet ‘The Pipe,’” Muffy murmured.

“You might say that, but it’s better than my mother taking residence at the Big House with Bubba-the-Bad-Guy’s girlfriend.” Jail and my mother were two things that just didn’t and would never go together.

“You’re right. I’m willing to help as much as I can, but if you end up in trouble, I don’t want to hear it, understand?” Muffy said in a stern voice.

What the hell, I thought, it hadn’t been so long ago when I’d had to haul Aunt Muffy’s butt out of jail. Now she had the nerve to preach to me, huh. Family … you have to love ’em, right? I sighed into the phone and thanked her for the effort she’d put into my plan.

Mollified, Muffy said she’d be waiting for me outside her house and to not be late. She rang off before I could comment, so I slipped the phone into the charger and stared at it for a few minutes. Was I nuts, or what? Could I handle the danger that I was about to step into? What the hell, my mother’s life was at stake here.

The phone rang three times before Lola answered in a voice a tad breathless. I asked if she would still help me out. Her answer was a resounding
yes,
followed by a tirade of questions.

“When are we going? What time do you want me to be ready?” Lola asked with the same enthusiasm she had the night before.

“I’ll pick you up around ten, and then we’ll go get Muffy. Be ready, okay?”

“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll be ready. You can count on me.”

She sounded as though she would explode from excitement at any moment. I wondered how I got into these situations, and considered the possible outcome. That was a dead-end issue, so I got dressed instead. Who knew what could happen? Not me, that’s for sure.

The car idled in front of the Salt & Pepper Deli while I waited for Lola to scramble down the steps. She draped the heavy knit wrap around her petite body as she scurried across the sidewalk. Millie and Bill stood in the windows staring at her departing figure.

Buckled into the seat, Lola threw an eager smile my way as I pulled into traffic. I raced to Cranston, scooped the cookies from my mother, and raced toward Muffy’s house. Lola wrapped the parcel of cookies inside the brown paper bag I’d brought, folding the edge over in a neat fashion. I worried over her anticipation of this adventure.

At exactly ten-thirty, I pulled up in front of Muffy’s house. She stepped off the front porch of her bungalow and took her place in the front seat when Lola moved into the back. Muffy’s demeanor was somewhat grim. I knew she wasn’t happy about her role. Hey, what’s family for if not to assist in a time of great need? I couldn’t figure out why she was in such a snit, but it didn’t take long to find out.

“Good morning, Auntie,” I greeted her.

“This is the dumbest thing you’ve done yet, Lavinia.” Muffy huffed. “‘The Pipe’ is no one to fool around with. He’s a maniac by any sense of the word. You know it, and so does everyone else.”

“This is a simple meeting. We aren’t doing anything stupid.” I tried to reassure her, though I wasn’t so sure myself.

My eyes slipped to the rearview mirror, taking in the backseat. Lola’s eyes still blazed with a look of anticipation. It was only one against two. The odds were still in my favor. I took a deep breath and drove to Federal Hill. It’s a splendid place any time of the year, but during the holiday season, it was extra special. The shops were gaily decorated for the holidays, trattoria’s offered tasty delicacies and everyone appeared cheerful.

We turned down the back street, off Atwells Avenue, and parked near the Social Club.

Muffy glanced at me and asked, “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“It’ll be fine. There’s nothing to worry about, honest,” I said. “We’re simply having an espresso and pastry with your friend Jimmy. I’ll give him the damn cookies and hope for the best. End of story.” A thin layer of patience prevailed and, for the life of me, I knew I had to hang onto it.

The three of us strolled along the sidewalk toward the Social Club. Jimmy, dressed in a heavy black cashmere coat that I swore cost more than my car, waited for us outside. His shoes and suit were of the Armani nature. Fine leather gloves covered his hands, and a soft fedora sat atop his head. Gray hair peeked from under the edges of the hat. He was no spring chicken.

I stood in awe of this well-dressed thug. His hands were huge, the size of frying pans. His thick neck sat on his broad shoulders, like a tree trunk with deep roots on a mountaintop. Even with Jimmy’s heavy coat, I could tell his chest breadth was enormous. He stood at least six feet tall and was scary as hell. I trembled inside and hoped it didn’t show.

“Good morning, ladies,” Jimmy said with a crooked grin. A deep scar paved through his cheek from his earlobe down into the corner of his mouth. Some women might find that attractive, but I was ready to shit my drawers. A crooked nose, broken at some time in the past, sat below his cold, beady, black eyes. Inwardly, I shivered.

Muffy stepped forward and the thug leaned down to kiss her cheek. He murmured words in Italian that I strained to hear, but couldn’t. She nodded and turned to us with a steely grin. Her black orbs narrowed a tad, she nodded toward me, and I stepped forward. After I’d been hugged and kissed on the cheek by this gorilla-sized ruffian, Lola took her turn. It’s an Italian thing to be greeted this way. The hugging and kissing part is ritualistic and expected. It doesn’t matter if it’s welcome or not.

Was I tempted to turn and run? Hell, yeah. I didn’t, though. It wasn’t an option. I stepped into my role as deal-maker, and hoped this was a stellar performance, Oscar material even. Maybe the camera had caught us in action already, since Rafe’s car was missing this morning when I left the house.

Herded down the sidewalk toward several restaurants that embraced the Piazza’s courtyard, I held the brown bag close to my body and furtively glanced around as though I had something to hide. I tried not to search the windows of apartments above the restaurants. It wouldn’t be a smart move to forewarn anyone that this wasn’t an honest-to-goodness deal of some sort. The FBI was far from stupid, and might catch on to what I was up to. Call me paranoid, but there you have it.

Jimmy strolled with Muffy, her hand tucked within the crook of his thick arm. She seemed right at home, and well, why wouldn’t she? This Mafia Moll hung out with the best, and worst, of the crooks, thugs, and ‘businessmen’ on the Hill. I was sure she knew the ins and outs of the bad-boy business, but kept it to herself.

When Muffy had gotten into trouble with the law in the past, from her association with a ‘businessman’ for the mob, the cops had tried to break her and couldn’t. My aunt, a woman of short stature, had a spine of steel and a viper attitude to match. If she ever tangled with a rattlesnake, I’d bet on Muffy as the victor anytime.

We entered a narrow restaurant spliced in between others, near the corner of the Piazza. The smell of fresh-baked rolls and pastries tickled my nostrils. I could feel my mouth water. My stomach growled. Embarrassed, I glanced at everyone. A wide grin covered Lola’s face. I guessed she was the only one who had heard the rumble.

Empty tables lined the walls of the restaurant. I took a seat at one of them, facing the window. Jimmy sat adjacent to me and Muffy sat across from him. This left one chair, filled by Lola. The set up held a perfect camera view.

I set the package of cookies in the center of the table and shrugged out of my coat. A slim waiter took our order. He spoke Italian and greeted us with a grin. His nametag said he was Marcello Andreoni. Black curly hair, rich dark eyes, and strong cheekbones reminded me of Rudolph Valentino.

I smiled and watched him take in the four of us. His eyes rested on Jimmy for a second before he wrote down the order given by Jimmy in Italian.

We hadn’t been asked what we wanted, it had been assumed we would like what Jimmy ordered for us. There was no way I was about to disagree, so I simply nodded when he glanced at me. Lola did the same and Muffy, well, she just grinned at all of us, pleased somehow.

Marcello moved away from the table toward the counter. I glanced at the other patrons who read newspapers and sipped their espresso. The atmosphere was subdued, but friendly at the same time.

When the pastry and espresso arrived, I dug in with fervor. Jimmy sipped his beverage and waited for the waiter to bring something else. In a moment, a bottle of Anisette liquor was delivered to the table. A measure was poured into each cup as the waiter refilled the tiny cups with more of the powerful brew. My eyes slid to Muffy, but all I saw was an imperceptible nod.

At the other side of the table, Lola was having a grand time all by herself. She ate the food, and spoke with Jimmy in a soft voice at the same time. His rapt attention had to have been due to the Julia smile. She could flash that smile anywhere, well nearly anywhere, and men fell at her feet. Good grief. I watched in fascination at the way she handled herself. The woman was undaunted. My breath caught in my throat when she asked what type of business he was in.

“The security business is my area of expertise,” Jimmy rumbled in his deep voice with an offhand manner. “I make sure that nothing happens to the people I protect. If there should be an instance, then I personally take care of things.”

The ongoing tremor of fear in my body hiked to ten points on the Richter scale. I glanced around in hope that nobody noticed. Focused on my food, I picked at the pastry before me. The fork cut into the buttery crust and I nibbled the tasty treat. My loss of appetite was unusual to say the least. It wasn’t often that I didn’t enjoy food. Fear may have been the cause this time.

After a few moments, Jimmy turned to me and then gestured to the brown package on the table with a heavy ringed hand. His eyes rested on it for a fraction of a second before he turned to me with a full-on gaze.

A forced smile crossed my face as I picked up the neatly folded bag and handed it to him. I explained that it was a gift. I turned my face away from the window and leaned toward Jimmy. I murmured that it was a gift from Nonni and my mother ‘The Bake Sale Queen
’
and that it was intended for his mother.

Surprise and pleasure slid across his heavy features, one after the other, while he gazed at me. I smiled and waited for his response. The only hope I had was that he wouldn’t open the package. I wanted Rafe, or Aaron, to think this was a deal, not a batch of cookies.

His smile widened and he nodded in satisfaction thanking me for the gift. He mentioned that he’d seen my mother on the news when she was interviewed. One thing about thugs, mobsters, and that brand of lawbreaker, is that family is still everything. Respect for family means much to these people. Anybody else is fair game.