Yesterday's Stardust (5 page)

Renata—The calzone was royally delicious. I don’t know about your brother, but I know that God, the real King of the Universe, loves you very much.

The temperature dropped with the sun and made sitting in the car bearable. Dani locked the doors, leaving the windows open a crack. She reached in the backseat and pulled out the diary. In spite of its obvious age, she hoped it was China’s. It wasn’t. The inscription in the front read
To Francine from Mama and Daddy. Happy 15th Birthday. December 4, 1923.

She put the book back in the milk crate. It would be an interesting read sometime when she could focus on something other than the house across the street. Wedging her bag behind her, she leaned against the passenger door, slipped off her sandals, and rested bare feet on the dashboard in front of the steering wheel. She’d wait another hour or so, maybe until midnight.

“Hey, kid! Open the door!”

Dani bolted upright. Red and blue lights splashed the dashboard, sidewalk, and side of the building. She’d fallen asleep. Was she dreaming? The hammering on the window matched the pounding of her pulse.

“I said open the door! Get out or I’ll—”

“Cool it, Nicky.” A calmer voice spoke over the angry one. “He’s probably passed out.”

Dani sat up, trying to remember where she was. She turned, only to look straight into the beam of a flashlight. The light shifted. As her vision cleared, she stared at the gold and blue of a Kenosha City Police badge.

The scene in the apartment flashed before her. Her hands turned cold and tingly. How could she have been so stupid as to walk into that apartment just minutes after the police left, and then to park across the street? If they had any suspicions that Miguel’s death was not suicide, wouldn’t they have the place under surveillance? And if China had given them her name…
the note.
Had she picked it up or had she left a calling card complete with phone number? Hand trembling, she rolled down the window.

“Step out of the car, please.”

As Dani obeyed, squinting in the light, an angry hiss emanated from the figure behind the officer. “Got a problem, Nicky?” the officer asked, never taking his eyes off her.

“‘Step out of the car, please,’” the man behind the officer mocked. “You sound like you’re talking to your mother.”

The officer shook his head and ran the flashlight from Dani’s head to her toes. A look of surprise crossed his face, and the light switched off. “May I see your driver’s license,
ma’am?”

“Huh?” The shadowy figure stepped closer into the hazy, yellow light of the street lamp.

Dani reached into the car. Her hand slid toward her open bag. The officer raised one hand. “Take the bag out of the car first, please.”

Pulling it out by one strap, Dani noted the officer’s hand resting on the handle of his holstered revolver. She drew out her wallet, pulled out her license, and handed it to him.

“May I see your vehicle registration, please?”

How could she explain the car? “It’s…not my car. I’m just borrowing it.”

“Yeah, right.” This from the dark-haired man in jeans and a white T-shirt.

“Who owns the car?”

“Vito Savona. He’s a friend—I work with him. Mine broke down and he loaned me his, and”—she closed her mouth, aware that too much talk could sound like she had something to hide.

A glance passed from the officer to the other man. The look clearly said, “I hope you feel like an idiot.”

The man with the dark hair shrugged, looked down then suddenly up again. “You gonna believe her? Just like that?”

The officer sighed. “No. I’m going to call it in, but you want to go call Vito? You want to deal with Lavinia at two in the morning? You go call, and I’ll question your car thief some more.”

The man muttered under his breath as he turned. “How’d you ever get to be a cop, anyway?”

Stifling a smile the officer yelled, “Shut up, Nicky, and bring us some coffee.” Turning the full force of his smile on Dani, he held up one finger. “Stay right there. This’ll only take a couple of minutes.” He walked back to the squad car.

Dani watched his face in the glow of his computer. He shut off the flashing lights before he got out. “No thefts reported, and your record is clean. Sorry if we scared you.”

Dani’s brain processed slowly. Why wasn’t he questioning her about Miguel? Suddenly, part of the conversation registered. “You know Vito?”

The man laughed. “Everybody knows Vito. Nicky and I went to school with his boys. Every kid in the neighborhood knew if he got kicked out of the house, the Savona’s door was always open—or if it wasn’t, we knew how to pick it with a credit card and a bobby pin. ‘Course we knew we’d get a lecture and a kick in the butt, too.”

He nodded toward the restaurant. “Unfortunately, some of us just remember life’s kicks, not the hospitality.” The look in his eyes typed a mental note. There was a story here.

The man removed his cap, revealing buzz-cut blond hair. “So, prove to me you didn’t steal Vito’s car.”

Dani warmed to his smile. “I think you just did.”

The officer raised his left brow and cocked his head.

“Why would anyone steal from a man who would give you the shirt off his back before you asked for it?”

He laughed again. “You obviously know Vito. I’m convinced.” He extended his hand. “Todd Metzger. The suspicious dude is Dominick Fiorini.”

“Ah.” His royal high-and-mightiness in the flesh?

“So, you homeless or something, Danielle?”

Dani laughed, partially from relief the questions weren’t headed in a different direction. The booming beat of a rap song thundered from a low-slung car approaching the corner. The distraction gave her a chance to formulate an answer. The car rolled to a stop.

“Hey, Sergeant Metzger, whatcha’ think?”

“Sounds great, HoJo, but tamp it down. It’s two a.m.”

The boy’s compliance surprised Dani. In the relative quiet, the sidewalk no longer vibrated. “We keep the peace just for you, okay?” He gave a wicked smile. “Maybe we go wake up the Vamps.”

“Maybe you go home and quit worrying your mama.”

The boy laughed and pulled away, squealing tires as he turned. Todd shook his head. “Now, what were you saying?”

“I was just waiting for a friend to get home, and I fell asleep.”

Nodding in the direction of the disappearing taillights, he said, “Not the best part of town to camp out in.”

She was about to respond with a lame answer when the “suspicious dude” approached with what could only be called a sheepish look on his face. His lack of eye contact with the sergeant was obvious. He looked directly at Dani. “Vito wants to talk to you.”

The officer smiled but didn’t comment as Dominick turned and led the way into the building. He opened a side door and walked in, leaving Todd to catch it before it could hit Dani. Todd shrugged. “Sorry. He flunked Manners 101.”

“Sounds like you’re used to apologizing for him.”

“Always have. In his defense, he’s seen too much in this neighborhood. And Vito’s car was stolen twice last year.”

Dani stood for a minute, adjusting to the fluorescent-lit room. A massive, flour-dusted table took up the center, one half covered with mounds of rising dough, the other crammed with loaves fresh from the oven. She stared at the dark-haired Dominick’s profile as he pummeled a mass of dough.

The pounding stopped, and he began shaping with the hands of an artist, the muscles in his arms flexing. His fingers pulled exactly the right amount of dough to shape and twist breadsticks with the speed and ease of a master.

Footsteps pulled Dani’s attention from the performance in front of her. Dani turned. Renata, in flip-flops and a baggy shirt and shorts she’d probably been sleeping in, held a phone, long curled cord looped over her arm. Surprise registered on the girl’s face. “You?” Her brow furrowed. “I don’t know what’s going on, Vito,” she spoke into the phone, “but here’s your car thief.”

As Dani took the phone, she nodded in Dominick’s direction. “His eminence?”

Renata nodded, a smile lighting her dark eyes. “Wanna kiss his ring?”

“Maybe I’ll request an audience when he’s in a better mood.”

“Won’t happen.”

Dani put the phone to her ear. “Hi Vito.” She couldn’t help the apologetic, little-girl voice. “I’m sorry.”

“You okay? Did that piece of junk break down on you?”

“I’m fine. The car’s fine. I was just waiting for a friend to get home, and I fell asleep. I’m sorry they had to wake you up. Tell Lavinia I’m sorry.”

“Forget it. Why didn’t that
stupido
kid believe you? Always making mountains out of mole hills, that kid. And a worse temper than me. Don’t you let him get to you, you hear? Don’t let him mess with your head. You tell him if he lays a finger on you, I’ll rearrange his face, okay?”

Dani laughed. “I’ll tell him, Vito. Now kiss your wife and go back to sleep.”

“Now that we’re awake maybe I do more than kiss—”

“Hey.” Lavinia’s voice cut over his. “Dream on, old man.”

Dani was laughing as she turned back to face the table where Todd the policeman smothered a piece of fresh bread with butter then sprinkled it with garlic salt. He held it out to her. “So, Vito gonna press charges?”

“Nah, but he did ask for my shoe size.”

Renata laughed, “Cool. Cement shoes—everybody’s wearing ‘em.”

Todd opened his mouth then shut it as the tip of Dominick’s knife slammed into the table. Dark eyes turned on Dani as he pulled it out and pointed the blade at her. “I don’t know who you are or what you were doing out there, but sleeping in a car in this neighborhood is a really stupid, brainless thing to do, and laughing about it is even stupider.”

Renata rolled her eyes. “Lay off, Nicky.”

“No, I won’t lay off. And I won’t lay off you, either. You haven’t got any more sense than she does, hanging around with—”

“Wait a minute.” Dani glared back at him. “Don’t start on her. It’s me you’ve got a problem with, and I think you’ve made your point.”

“I haven’t gotten even remotely close to my point. I should have left you out there and let the Vamps or the Roses make the point.”

Todd put his hand on Nicky’s shoulder. “Cool it, Nick.”

Nicky shrugged the hand off, never taking his eyes off Dani. “You know how happy you’d make some homey, lyin’ there like you’re wearing a sign saying, ‘Here I am, dumb and stupid on a silver platter. Come and get me.’”

Dani slapped the piece of bread on the table. “I accidentally fell asleep in a locked car.”

“You think a locked car with the window open three inches is protection? Tell that to the kid across the street who got shot in his own house this afternoon.”

“He didn’t get shot. He shot himsel—I don’t have to listen to this.”

Bare feet slapped as she ran out the door and onto the sidewalk, “dumb and stupid on a silver platter” echoing in her head.

D
ani eyed the clock as she stumbled in the door.
“Everyone should have at least one three a.m. friend.”

She’d heard it at a seminar last year and decided the night she’d heard it, to find out if she did. Anna Nelson had answered in a panic on the second ring. Evan had answered on the fourth with a yawn and a “What’s wrong?” Both ended up laughing.

How many people have
two
three a.m. friends? And was it wrong to wake them both? One to vent about the enraged Italian who’d screamed at her—the other to describe the Roman statue of a man in a white apron who shaped dough with hands that would put Michelangelo’s to shame?

She kicked off her shoes and felt her way to the bathroom without turning on a light. Anna would make her laugh, make her forget the horrible day at least for a few moments. And then she’d ask questions, and then she’d agree with the silver platter comment.

Evan would make her pray for the cranky Italian who thought he ruled the universe.

She splashed water on her face and went to bed, still dressed, determined not to dream about a stained wall and a shrouded body and flashing lights.

After two hours of pretend sleep, she got up and grabbed her gym bag. An hour of ducks and jabs, strikes and blocks, and she was drenched in sweat and finally spent enough for the sleep she no longer had time for.