Bananas Foster and a Dead Mobster (15 page)

"My car," Chef Otto shouts. "My beautiful car!"

I peer through the windshield to the scratch on the hood. The aftermath of Leo's sloppily aimed bullet. Chef Otto's nostrils flare, and his expression looks as if he's bitten into a lemon.

"We were almost killed, and all you can think about is your Ferrari?" I say. "Are you insane?"

"You have no idea how much this car costs, Poppy," he retaliates.

"More than your life apparently."

He zooms toward town, running a red light. I grip the edges of my seat while Susu tries to steady herself on my lap. Otto turns down the street leading toward the academy, and I shake my head before I can spit out any words of caution.

"You can't go there," I blurt out. "Leo is probably headed straight for campus."

"Then where do you suggest?" he argues. "Your place?"

"He knows where I live, Otto." I search my brain for places to hide. Anywhere we go we stick out like a sore thumb in this car. We'll have to ditch it, but Otto would probably rather die than see it shot up by an angry mobster. "Drive to the police station."

"No!" Chef Otto yells. "I am
not
going to be the headline of tonight's news."

"Set your ego aside, and do the right thing for once." I glare at him, but my look of disdain doesn't faze him.

"We'll hide out in Atlanta."

"Seriously?" I shake my head again. The noise from the engine is so loud that I'm having trouble thinking. "Leo will have someone waiting for us before we even get there,
and
we're kind of easy to spot."

"Fine," he mutters through his teeth. "Where's a place that Leo will never suspect?"

I can think of one, but I'm not sure it's a good idea.

"We'll have to hide the car somewhere and do a lot of running," I say. He pauses, taking a minute to think it over. "It's you or Victoria. You have to decide." Chef Otto scowls as he speeds closer to Calle Pastry Academy.

"If Vickie gathers another scratch I'm holding you personally responsible."

"It won't matter if we're both dead," I answer. "And you're the one who started all this in the first place." I pat Susu's back and stare out the window as we pass a dense patch of forest. I'm still amazed by how green the South is. But thick vegetation also means more rain and giant bugs.

"I did exactly what the police told me to do to lure him in," he responds.

"But?" I wait for him to confess that he did it all on his own.

"Okay." He nods. "I should've waited, but you have no idea what'll happen to my reputation if this case isn't wrapped up ASAP. I can't let the media catch wind of this."

Lies, lies, and more lies. This guy
has
to be a Bianco. I roll my eyes.

"Why? Are you afraid they'll discover your precious little secret?" My anger is doing all of my talking now. I'm too frustrated to bite it back any longer.

"What secret?" he blurts out. "What are you talking about?" He speaks so quickly that he couldn't make his guilt any more obvious.

"I know, Chef," I admit. "You should've been honest from the start. Maybe then Karl would still be alive."

"Poppy,
what
are you talking about?" His pinky finger twitches on the steering wheel.

"I know that you were adopted and that you're a Bianco by blood."

Chef Otto raises his eyebrows, keeping silent for a few seconds as he turns into campus. My stomach ties itself in knots as I wait for him to reply, but he takes his time. Otto heads for a random parking lot where we can leave his prized Ferrari. Maybe Leo will check the buildings on campus first and give us more time to contact Detective Reid.

"Poppy," Chef Otto finally says. "I wasn't adopted."

"Oh, please." My patience for him and his snide attitude are completely gone. "Just be honest for once! I don't care about your career. I don't care about your reputation, and I'm not going to waste my time selling a story about you to the papers. Not everything is about
you
."

"Poppy," Otto replies quietly as he parks his car. "I'm being serious here. I mean, I've seen pictures of my mother at the hospital with me. There's even video footage of my delivery if you want to watch it. But I wouldn't recommend it. It scared me through to my teens."

"No joke?"

"I swear on my nonna's cooking," he responds. "Are you telling me that the mafia isn't here to collect a debt?
My
debt?"

I nod.

"If you're not the long lost child of Vito Bianco…who is?"

I pound on the door, glancing behind me every other second to make sure Leo isn't lingering in the shadows. Chef Otto rubs the side of his face as if he's in the middle of a daydream. My chest is still tight, and my muscles are still tense. Every second we spend outside is a second too long.

Susu stays close to my side, giving me the confidence I need to swallow my fears.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I say out loud, pounding again on the apartment door.

It finally opens.

"Poppy?" Georgina looks surprised. She spots Otto next to me and immediately crosses her arms to hide her baggy T-shirt. Her face is makeup-free, and her long blonde hair is up in a ponytail. "Um, this really isn't a good time." She shies away from making eye contact with Chef Otto. "Ingrid is running me a bath."

"Please, let us in." I look over my shoulder and down the shadowy sidewalk. "We have nowhere else to go."

"What?" She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, turning her bare face so that Otto can't see her skin au naturel.

"I'll explain everything." I push past her and slam the door shut as soon as Otto and Susu follow me inside. Ingrid emerges from the hallway and stops when she sees us.

"I'm listening," Georgina responds, raising her eyebrows.

"Okay." I take a deep breath and look to Otto for help, but he shrugs. "Wow. Where do I start?"

"Don't sugarcoat it." Georgina taps her foot. "Why are you barging in on me uninvited? And why is
he
with you?"

"Just call the police," I instruct her. "We've got a killer hot on our trail." I make sure the front door is locked, and I move away from the window. Georgina eyes Susu. She doesn't seem as fond of her now that her crush on Chef Otto has been smashed to pieces.

"Poppy—"

"She's telling the truth," Chef Otto cuts in. His biceps flex as he clasps his hands in front of him. "You're right, Poppy. It's my fault that the mafia is after us, and it's my fault that Karl's dead."

"Wait a second?" Georgina steps forward, showing off her loungewear and naked face. "Someone really is after you two?"

"Yes." I do my best not to shout it at her.

"So, you came
here
?" She rolls her eyes in disappointment. "What is wrong with you? First the car chase, and now this? Are you
trying
to get me killed?" As usual, Georgina is making this ordeal all about her. She and Otto really are two of a kind. "And what is the matter with the dog? She's going to stain all my furniture with whatever that gunk is on her fur. These couches are brand new."

"You two need to get your priorities straight," I comment, looking from Otto to Georgina.

"Just because your life is one big bowl of spilled cake batter doesn't mean you need to try to ruin it for the rest of us." Georgina holds her shoulders high and lifts her chin. I hate it when she does that.

"You know what?" I lie. "You're right. I dragged Otto all the way here just to get you to agree to all of my ideas for our final buffet. And PS, your couches are ugly even without the fur stains." The look on her face is priceless, and it's exactly what I'm going for. Annoyed and shocked all at the same time.

"Oh, you little—"

"Girls!" Chef Otto nudges my shoulder. "That's enough. Georgina, this is serious. We may not have much time here."

Georgina groans while glancing back at Ingrid, her parents' housekeeper slash bath attendant.

"I let you stay with me in New Orleans, and this is how you repay me," she replies. "And I was actually beginning to warm up to you, Poppy."

"Oh, I'm flattered." I guess our small moment of mutual understanding in Atlanta didn't count for anything. She's still that stubborn suck-up from day one of our first semester—the girl who was so desperate to secure her spot at the top of the class that she had to sabotage my work. She almost burned down the building in the process. "Really, your approval is all I care about."

"Cut the sarcasm, honey. It's not cute when you're an old spinster."

"I bet I'm younger than you," I bite back.

"Maybe on paper." She chuckles, looking me up and down. "But it doesn't make up for a sloppy presentation."

"You did not just say that." I lower my voice, aiming my best death glare at her.

"Being poised is a talent that not everyone can acquire," Georgina says as she shifts one hip to the side.

Chef Otto and Susu watch us in awe.

"Talk to me again when you've had a gun waved around in your face."

*   *   *

"For now, I'd like you to stay here with Georgina." Detective Reid checks the hall closet for the second time. "Leo Bianco can't be far, and he knows where you live. We haven't been able to confirm that he's left the area."

"One night is all I can muster." I glance at Georgina who is chatting with another officer. In the sparse moments that we managed to quit arguing, I called the detective directly. He has every officer in the county searching for Leo. It's sort of a comforting thought but not one that will help me sleep tonight.

"I'm confident that we'll catch him this time."

"What about Bree?" I ask.

"I'll send an officer to keep watch at your apartment as well as here," he responds. "As long as you stay put, Leo won't be able to get to you." He studies my expression. "Did you hear what I said, Poppy? I said
stay put
."

"I heard you." I sit on Georgina's couch and take a deep breath. My eyes feel heavy, and I end up leaning back and watching as Detective Reid talks with Chef Otto. Otto scratches behind Susu's ears and relays all the information he can about Leo Bianco including his not-so-brilliant attempt to follow him when he spotted the black Cadillac in front of Ward's Hardware Store. That plan backfired.

I close my eyes for a few minutes, letting my mind clear as best as it can. I open an eye just as Detective Reid is stepping outside. My eyes close again. It feels like seconds have passed, but when I open my eyes for the third time the room is dark except for a faint light coming from the kitchen. I get up slowly, stretching my limbs and sore back. I must've fallen asleep, and Georgina didn't bother to wake me. I contemplate lying back down on the couch until morning, but my thoughts are interrupted by the sound of whispers.

I pause and listen.

Georgina is in the kitchen, and she's upset about something. Another voice responds. At first, I make the assumption that the second person must be Ingrid, Georgina's former nanny slash housekeeper. She's the only other person who lives here.

But the voice that whispers back sounds like a man.

Otto.

I walk toward the kitchen. I don't know how I'm supposed to get any sleep with the two of them talking all night. Besides, what do the two of them have to talk about? Georgina's made it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with Chef Otto anymore.

"Hey, can you keep it down? I'm trying to—"

"Poppy," Georgina blurts out—her eyes as wide as two peach pies. She gulps, taking a step away from the man in the room. It is not Chef Otto. My chest tightens as I study the smirk on Leo Bianco's face. He's wearing a new collared shirt, and there's a bulge on his shoulder from a thick bandage.

"Call the police!" I shout, grabbing Georgina's hand. She doesn't run like I expect her to. Instead, she stays rooted in the kitchen facing the man who wants to kill me and now probably her. "Don't just stand there."

"She's not going anywhere." Leo chuckles and casually sits at the kitchen table. "And now that you're awake, we don't have to whisper."

"What?" My eyes dart from the front door to the kitchen window. Both appear to be intact. "How did you get in here?"

"Haven't you figured it out by now, Poppy?" Leo scans the table and counters for something to eat…or maybe he's looking for a weapon of sorts. "Georgina let me in."

My head turns toward Georgina. She stares down at the kitchen floor, crossing her arms over her nightgown. I shake my head. Why would Georgina let him in? Why would she open the door to the man who is responsible for Karl's death and who knows how many others. Why would she let in the man who wants me dead?

"I don't understand," I respond. Georgina takes a deep breath but doesn't say anything. "Georgina?" I nudge her shoulder, hoping she'll talk. "Georgina!"

"I
had
to, okay," she finally answers. Her cheeks are scarlet, and the rest of her skin is chalky.

"Don't be stupid."

"I'm serious," she replies, glaring at me.

"Why?"

Leo chuckles even louder. He leans back in his seat and makes himself more comfortable. He seems all too confident that neither of us will be calling the police any time soon. He brushes the top of his shoulder.

"You might as well tell her," Leo instructs. Georgina narrows her eyes, looking at him the way she looks at me sometimes when she's frustrated.

"I told you I haven't decided yet," Georgina mutters back.

"This isn't a choice, my dear." Leo clears his throat and pauses.

"Fine," Georgina says through her teeth. "I'll go, but I want you out of here. Got it?"

"I'll leave when—"

"You'll leave
now
," she commands him. Her sudden outburst pleases Leo rather than upsets him. He grins, nodding at her like a proud parent.

"You speak with great force." He compliments her. "Your father carries that same trait."

"Father?" I question. My suspicions suddenly become clear. The article in Gino Milani's date book. The address of the old adoption agency. Vito Bianco on his deathbed and the mob scoping out Calle Pastry Academy. The long lost child of Vito "More Dough" Bianco really
isn't
Chef Otto.

It's Georgina.

I place a hand on my racing heart.

"That's right," Leo confirms. "And she should be proud."

"You're adopted?" I ask.

Georgina nods.

"My mother gave me up when I was a baby, and then she died in a fire," she admits. Her voice is soft and solemn.

"The adoption agency closed down a long time ago," Leo continues. "But we've been searching for her for years. Her mother betrayed us all, but the boss still wants to meet her before he dies." He looks at Georgina. "Their relationship was a tornado of chaos, but he did love your mother."

"How long have you known?" I ask her.

"I knew my biological mother was dead, but I didn't know who my father was," Georgina answers. "Not until New Orleans."

"After a few failed attempts to make contact here in Georgia, you brought her to us, Poppy. I suppose I should thank you for that." Leo shrugs.

"You're going to thank me and then kill me?" I gulp.

"It's the way these things go sometimes," Leo responds.

"Why didn't you say anything?" I study the look on Georgina's face, trying to determine if what she's saying is genuine.

"Would you?"

"I don't know," I confess. I think back to when this all started—the morning of the farmers' market. "So Gino was in town—"

"Observing me," Georgina finishes. My mind flashes back to the things Cole and I found in Gino's apartment. One of them was a pair of binoculars.

Gino would've made contact with Georgina that same day if he hadn't been killed. I clutch my sides, short of breath. Who else could've known why Gino was here? Georgina has to be lying, and she has to be the killer. If Georgina wants nothing to do with her mafia inheritance then the secret would've died with Gino Milani. But then Leo was sent to finish the job.

Is Georgina the killer I've been searching for?

The one who stole my chef's knife and set me up?

"Poppy," Georgina comments, "you don't look so good."

"Of course not." Leo chuckles. "The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"Georgina," I say. "How could you?" My stomach feels sour just thinking about all the time we've spent together. Our moment of mutual understanding back at Cakeville. She's a better liar than I gave her credit for. The greatest liar of them all.

Now I'm dead for sure.